MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE.   
Printed for T. Bassett M. Gillyflower & W. Hensman.   

ESSAYS OF MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE.  
IN THREE BOOKS.  
With Marginal Notes and Quotations of the cited Authors.  
And an Account of the Author's LIFE.  
New rendered into English By CHARLES COTTON, Esq.  — Viresque acquirit eundo. Virg. lib. 4. Aen. 
The First Volume.  
LONDON, Printed for T. Basset at the George in Fleetstreet, and M. Gillyflower and W. Hensman in Westminster-Hall, 1685.   

To the Right Honourable GEORGE Marquis, Earl, and Viscount Hallifax, Baron of Eland, Lord Privy Seal, and one of His Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council.  
MY LORD,  
IF I have set down, the only opportunity I ever had of kissing your Lordship's Hands, amongst the happy Encounters of my Life, and take this occasion, so many Years after, to tell you so, your Lordship will not, I hope, think yourself injured by such a Declaration from a Man that honours You; nor condemn my Ambition, when I publish to the World, that I am not altogether unknown to You. Your Lordship, peradventure, may have forgot a Conversation so little worthy your remembrance: but the memory of your Lordship's obliging fashion to me all that time, can never die with me; and though my Acknowledgement arrives thus late at you, I have never left it at home when I went abroad into the best Company. My Lord, I cannot, I would not flatter you, I do not think your Lordship capable of being flattered, neither am I inclined to do it to those that are: but I cannot forbear to say, that I then received such an impression of your Virtue, and Noble Nature, as will stay with me for ever. This will either excuse the Liberty I presume to take in this Dedication, or, at least, make it no wonder; and I am so confident in your Lordship's Generosity, that I assure myself you will not deny your Protection to a Man whose greatest Public Crime is that of an ill Writer. A better Book (if there be a better of the kind (in the Original I mean) had been a Present more fitly suited to your Lordship's Quality and Merit, and to my Devotion: I could heartily wish it such: but as it is, I lay it at your Lordship's Feet, together with  
My Lord, Your Lordship's Most humble, and most obedient Servant, Charles Cotton.   

THE TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE TO THE READER.  
MY Design in attempting this Translation, was to present my Country with a true Copy of a very brave Original; How far I have succeeded in that Design is left to every one to judge; and I expect to be the more gently censured, for having myself so modest an Opinion of my own Performance, as to confess that the Author has suffered by me, as well as the former Translator; though I hope, and dare affirm, that the misinterpretations▪ I shall be found guilty of, are neither so numerous, nor so gross. I cannot discern my own Errors, it were impardonable in me if I could, and did not mend them; but I can see his (except when we are both mistaken) and those I have corrected; but am not so ill natured as to show where. In truth, both Mr. Florio, and I are to be excused, where we miss of the sense of the Author, whose Language is such in many Places, as Grammar cannot reconcile, which renders it the hardest Book to make a justifiable version of that I yet ever saw in that, or any other Language I understand: insomuch, that though I do think, and am pretty confident, I understand French as well as many Men, I have yet sometimes been forced to grope at his meaning. Peradventure the greatest Critic would in some Places have found my Author abstruse enough. Yet are not these Mistakes I speak of either so many, or of so great importance, as to cast any scandalous blemish upon the Book; but such as few Readers can discover, and they that do, will I hope easily excuse.  
The Errors of the Press, I must in part take upon myself, living at so remote a distance from it, and supplying it with a slubbered Copy from an illiterate Amanuensis; the last of which is provided against in the Quires that must succeed.   

THE LIFE OF MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE, Almost entirely taken out of his own WORKS.  
THE Race of Michael Seigneur de Montaigne, in Perigord, was Noble, but Noble without any great lustre till his time: As to Estate, he was seized of above two thousand Crowns of yearly Revenue. He was born to his Father the third in order of Birth of his Children, and by him delivered to Gossips of the meanest Condition to be baptised, with a Design rather to oblige, and link him to those who were likely to stand in need of him, than to such as he might stand in need of. He moreover sent him from his Cradle to be brought up in a poor Village of his, and there continued him all the while he was at Nurse, and longer, forming him to the lowest, and most common manner of Living: Wherein he certainly so well inur'd himself to Frugality and Austerity, that they had much ado, during all the time of his Infancy especially, to correct the refusals he made of things that Children of his age are commonly greedy of, as Sugars, Sweetmeats, Marchpanes, and the like.  
No doubt the Greek and Latin Tongues are a very Fair and a very great Advance; but, as he himself observes, they are now a days too dear bought. His Father having made all diligent inquiry that possibly could be amongst the Learned Men for an exquisite method of Education, was cautioned of the inconvenience then in Use, and told, that the tedious time that is employed in the Languages of the Ancient Greeks and Romans, which cost them nothing, is the only reason, that we cannot arrive to that grandeur of Soul, and perfection of Knowledge that was in them. The expedient that he found out for this was, that whilst he was at Nurse, and before he began to Speak, he delivered him to the Care of a Germane, who since died a famous Physician in France, totally ignorant of our Language, and very well versed in the Latin Tongue. This Man, that he had brought out of his own Country, and entertained with a very great Salary for this purpose, had the Child continually in his Arms, to whom there were added two others more moderately Learned, to attend him, and to Relieve the first, which three entertained him with no other Language but Latin. As to the rest of the Family, it was an inviolable Rule, that neither his Father, nor so much as his Mother, Man or Maid, spoke any Word in his hearing, but such as every one had learned only to prattle with him. And 'tis not to be believed how all of them profited by this Method; his Father and Mother learned by this means Latin enough to understand, and to serve themselves withal at need, as also those Servants did, who were most about his Person. To be short, they did Latin it at such a Rate, that it overflowed to the Neighbouring Villages, where, by Use, several Latin Appellations of Artisans and their Tools, have got footing, and there remain to this day. For his part, he was above six years old before he understood any more of French, or Perigordin, than of Arabic, and without Art, Books, Grammar, or Precepts, without Whipping, and without Tears, he had learned to speak as pure Latin as his Master, for he could neither alter it nor mix it. If, for Example, they gave him a Theme after the College Mode; they gave it to others in French, but they were fain to give it him in ill Latin to put it into good: And Nicholas Gronchi, who has writ a Book de Comitiis Romanorum, Guiliaume Guerente, who has writ a Commentary upon Aristotle, George Buchanan, that great Scotch Poet, and Mark Anthony de Mureta, whom both France and Italy acknowledge for the best Orator of his Time, his Domestic Tutors, have oft since told him, that he had that Language in his Childhood so ready, and at hand, they were afraid to accost him.  
As to the Greek, his Father designed to have it taught him by Art, but by a new Method, and that by way of Sport and Recreation. they tossed their Declensions to and fro, after the manner of those, who by certain Tricks upon the Chessboard, learn Arithmetic, and Geometry: so, amongst other things, he had been advised to make him relish Learning and Duty, by an unforced Will, and his own Device, and to Educate his Soul with all Sweetness and Liberty, without Austerity or Compulsion. Which he also did to such a degree of Superstition, that seeing some are of Opinion, that it troubles the Brain of Children to be suddenly roused in a Morning, and to be snatched away from sleep, wherein they are much deeper plunged than men, with haste and violence; he always caused him to be waked by the sound of some Musical Instrument, and was never unprovided of a Musician for that purpose.  
But, as they who are impatient to be cured, submit to all sorts of Remedies, and every one's Advice; the good Man, being extremely timorous of failing in a thing he had so much set his Heart upon, suffered himself at last to be carried away by the common Opinion, which, like Cranes, always follow that which went before, and submitted to Custom, having now no more those Persons about him, who had given him the first Instructions, that he had brought out of Italy. And about the sixth Year of his Age sent him to the College of Guyenne, at that time very flourishing, and the best in France. And there it was not possible to add any thing to the Care he had in choosing for him the best Chamber-Tutors, and in all other Circumstances of Education, wherein he reserved several particular Forms, contrary to the College Usance; but so it was, that it was a College still, and this unusual method of Education, was here of no greater advantage to him, than at his first coming to prefer him to one of the higher Classes, for at thirteen Years of Age, he had run through his whole Course.  
At the Age of three and thirty he married a Wife, though, might he have been left free to his own Choice, he would have avoided marrying, even Wisdom herself, had she been willing. But 'tis to much purpose, says he, to resist Custom, and the common Usance of Life will have it so. Nevertheless, this Marriage of his was not Spontaneous, he was put upon it, and led to it by odd Accidents. And as great a Libertine as he confesses himself to be, he more strictly observed his Matrimonial Vow, than he expected from, or had proposed to himself.  
His Father left him Montaigne in Partage, as the eldest of his Sons, Prophesying that he would Ruin it, considering his Humour, so little disposed to live at home: But he was deceived, for he lived upon it as he entered into it, excepting, that it was something better, and yet without Office, or any other Foreign helps. As to the rest, if Fortune never did him any violent or extraordinary Offence, so she never showed him any signal Favour: Whatever he had in his House that proceeded from her Liberality, was there before he came to it, and above a hundred Years before his Time: He never in his own particular had any solid and essential Advantages, for which he stood indebted to her Bounty. She showed him Airy, Honorary, and Titular Favours, without Substance; She procured for him the Collar of the Order of St. Michael, which, when young, he coveted above all other things, it being at that time the utmost mark of Honour of the French Nobless, and very Rare. But of all her Favours, there was none with which he was so well pleased, as an Authentic Bull of a Roman Burgess, that was granted to him with great civility and bounty, in a Journey he made to Rome, which is transcribed in Form in the sixth Chapter of the third Book of his Essays.  
Messieurs de Bourdeaux, elected him Mayor of their City, being then out of the Kingdom, and at Rome, and yet more Remote from any such Expectation, which made him excuse himself; but that would not serve his turn, and moreover the King interposed his Command. 'Tis an Office that ought to be looked upon with the greatest Esteem, as it has no other Perquisits and Benefits belonging to it, than the mere honour of its Execution. It lasts but two years, but may, by a second Election, be continued longer, though that rarely happens. It was to him, and had been so twice before, once some years since to Monsieur de Lausac, and more lately to Monsieur de Byron, Marshal of France, in whose place he succeeded, and left his to Monsieur de Matiguon, also Marshal of France, proud of so noble a Fraternity. His Father, a Man of great Honour and Equity, had formerly also had the same Dignity. All the Children his Wife brought died at Nurse saving Leonor an only Daughter, whom he disposed in marriage some two Years before his Death.  
The first printing of his Essays was in the Year 1580, at which time the public Applause gave him, as he says, a little more assurance than he expected. He has since added, but corrected nothing: His Book having been always the same, saving that upon every new Impression, he took the Privilege to add something, that the Buyer might not go away with his Hands quite empty. His Person was strong, and well knit; his Face not fat, but full, his Complexion betwixt Jovial and Melancholic, moderately Sanguine and hot; his Constitution healthful and sprightly, rarely troubled with Diseases, till he grew into Years, that he begun to be afflicted with the Colic and Stone: As to the rest, very obstinate in his hatred, and contempt of Physicians Prescriptions; an hereditary Antipathy; his Father having lived threescore and fourteen Years, his Grandfather threescore and nine; and his great Grandfather almost fourscore Years, without having ever tasted any sort of Medicine.  
He died in the Year 1592., the 13 th' of September: a very constant, and Philosophical Death, being aged fifty nine Years, six Months, and eleven Days; and was buried at Bourdeaux, in the Church of a Commandery of St. Anthony, now given to the religious Fevillantines: where his Wife Francoise de la Cassaigne, and his Daughter, have erected for him an honourable Monument, having, like his Ancestors, passed over his Life and Death in the Catholic Religion.   

The Contents of the Chapters of the first Book.  

Ch. 1. THat Men by various ways arrive at the same End.  
Chap. 2. Of Sorrow.  
Chap. 3. That our Affections carry themselves beyond Vs.  
Chap. 4. That the Soul discharges her Passions upon false Objects, where the true are wanting.  
Chap. 5. Whether the Governor of a Place besieged aught himself to go out to parley.  
Chap. 6. That the Hour of Parle is dangerous.  
Chap. 7. That the Intention is Judge of our Actions.  
Chap. 8. Of Idleness.  
Chap. 9 Of Liars.  
Chap. 10. Of Quick or Slow Speech.  
Chap. 11. Of Prognostication.  
Chap. 12. Of Constancy.  
Chap. 13. The Ceremony of the Interview of Princes.  
Chap. 14. That men are justly punished for being obstinate in the Defence of a Fort, that is not in reason to be defended.  
Chap. 15. Of the Punishment of Cowardice.  
Chap. 16. A Proceeding of some Ambassadors.  
Chap. 17. Of Fear.  
Chap. 18. That Men are not to judge of our Happiness, till after Death.  
Chap. 19 That to study Philosophy is to learn to Die.  
Chap. 20. Of the Force of Imagination.  
Chap. 21. That the Profit of one Man is the Inconvenience of another.  
Chap. 22. Of Custom, and that we should not easily change a Law received.  
Chap. 23. Various Events from the same Counsel.  
Chap. 24. Of Pedantry.  
Chap. 25. Of the Education of Children. To Madam Diana of Foix, Countess of Gurson.  
Chap. 26. That it is folly to measure Truth and Error by our own capacity.  
Chap. 27. Of Friendship.  
Chap. 28. Nine and twenty Sonnets of Estienne de la Boetie to Madam de Grammont, Countess of Guisson.  
Chap. 29. Of Moderation.  
Chap. 30. Of Cannibals.  
Chap. 31. That a Man is soberly to judge of Divine Ordinances.  
Chap. 32. That we are to avoid Pleasures, even at the expense of Life.  
Chap. 33. That Fortune is oftentimes observed to act by the Rule of Reason.  
Chap. 34. Of one Defect in one Government.  
Chap. 35. Of the Custom of wearing clothes.  
Chap. 36. Of Cato the younger.  
Chap. 37. That we Laugh and Cry for the same thing.  
Chap. 38. Of Solitude.  
Chap. 39 A Consideration upon Cicero.  
Chap. 40. That the Relish of Goods and Evils does in a great Measure depend upon the Opinion we have of them.  
Chap. 41. Not to Communicate a Man 's Honour.  
Chap. 42. Of the Inequality amongst us.  
Chap. 43. Of Sumptuary Laws.  
Chap. 44. Of Sleep.  
Chap. 45. Of the Battle of Dreux.  
Chap. 46. Of Names.  
Chap. 47. Of the Incertainty of our Judgement.  
Chap. 48. Of Horses dressed to the Menage, called Destrials.  
Chap. 49. Of Ancient Customs.  
Chap. 50. Of Democritus and Heraclitus.  
Chap. 51. Of the Vanity of Words.  
Chap. 52. Of the Parsimony of the Ancients.  
Chap. 53. Of a Saying of Caesar.  
Chap. 54. Of Vain Subtleties.  
Chap. 55. Of Smells.  
Chap. 56. Of Prayers.  
Chap. 57 Of Age.    

ERRATA.  
PAge 8. l. 15. read Satiety. p. 18. l. 23. r. were to deprive. p. 25. l. 13. r. solicitude. ib. l. 28. r. solicitude. p. 28. l. 11. r. solicitude. p. 44. l. 21. r. of the two Counts. p. 58. l. 4. r. come to the Court. p. 65. l. 14. r. from dreams. p. 70. l. 8. r. conlineet. p. 72. l. 9 r. fortuitous. id. l. 16. r. fortunately. p. 73. l. 13. r. flying way. p. 77. l. 21. r. it is enough. p. 85. l. 30. r. Periander. p. 96. l. 13. r. Panic. ib. l. 18. dicique. p. 111. l. 26. r. imbellis. p. 132. l· 14. r. 'twas I ib. l. 17. r. answer him. and l. 26. r. lassitude. p. 136. l. 8. r. his inflamed. p. 153. l. 1. r. his sight. p. 157. l. 21. r. changed. p. 159. l. 20. r. Whirle-batts. p. 170. l. 18. r. cense the men. p. 188. l. 5. r. those. p. 190. l. 7. r. of doing. p. 200. l. 17. r. were to. p. 229. l. 14. r. form of. p. 232. l. 22. r. Grammar. p. 233. l. 7. r. incite. p. 238. l. 27. r. hope. p. 239. l 2. r. with any one. p. 240. l. 5. r. Cento's. What other Erratas shall occur, not here mentioned, the Reader is desired to amend at his discretion.   

ESSAYS OF Michael Seigneur de Montaigne.  
The First BOOK.  

CHAP. I. That Men by various Ways arrive at the same end.  
THE most likely and most usual way in Practice of appeasing the Indignation of such as we have any way offended, when we see them in Possession of the Power of Revenge, and find that we absolutely lie at their Mercy, is by Submission (than which, 
Submission mollifies the Hearts of the offended.  nothing more flatters the Glory of an Adversary) to move them to Commiseration and Pity: and yet Bravery, Constancy, and Resolution, however quite contrary means, have sometimes served to produce the same effect. 
Edward the Black Prince.  Edward the Black Prince of Wales (the same who so long governed our Province of Guienne, a Person whose high Condition, excellent Qualities, and remarkable Fortune, have in them a great deal of the most noble and most considerable Parts of Grandeur) having, through some Misdemeanours of theirs, been highly incensed by the Limosins, and in the heat of that Resentment taking their City by Assault, was not, in the Riot commonly attending such Executions, either by the Out-cries of the People, or the Prayers and Tears of the Women and Children, abandoned to Slaughter and prostrate at his Feet for Mercy, to be stayed from prosecuting his Revenge; till, penetrating further into the Body of the Town, he at last took notice of three French Gentlemen, 
Remarkable Valour of three French Gentlemen.  who with incredible Bravery, alone sustained the whole Power of his victorious Army: and then it was, that the Consideration of, and the Respect unto so remarkable a Virtue, first stopped the Torrent of his Fury, and that his Clemency, beginning in the Preservation of these three Cavaliers▪ was afterwards extended to all the remaining Inhabitants of the City. 
Scanderbag.  Scanderbag Prince of Epirus, in great Wrath pursuing one of his Soldiers, with a resolute Purpose to kill him, and the Soldier having in vain tried by all the ways of Humility and Supplication to appease him, seeing him notwithstanding obstinately bend to his Ruin, resolved, as his last Refuge, to face about and expect him with his Sword in his Hand; which Behaviour of his gave a sudden stop to his Captain's Fury, who for seeing him assume so notable a Resolution, received him to Grace: an Example, however, that might suffer another Interpretation with such as have not read of the prodigious Force and Valour of that invincible Prince. The Emperor Conrade the 3 d. having besieged Guelpho Duke of Bavaria, would not be prevailed upon, what mean and unmanly Satisfactions soever had been tendered to him, to condescend to milder Conditions, than that the Ladies and Gentlewomen only who were in the Town might go out without Violation of their Honour, on Foot, and with so much only as they could carry about them. 
Conjugal Love.  Which was no sooner known, but that out of Magnanimity of Heart, and an Excess of good Nature, they presently contrived to carry out, upon their Shoulders, their Husbands and Children, and even the Duke himself; a Sight at which the Emperor was so pleased, that, ravished with the Generosity of the Action, he wept for Joy, and immediately extinguishing in his Heart the mortal and implacable Hatred he had conceived against this Duke, he from that time forward, treated Him and His with all Humanity and Affection. The one, or the other, of these two ways, would with great Facility work upon my Nature; for I have a marvellous Propensity to Mercy and Mildness, and to such a degree of Tenderness, that I fancy, of the two I should sooner surrender my Anger to Compassion than Esteem: And yet Pity is reputed a Vice amongst the Stoics, who will that we secure the Afflicted, but not that we should be so affected with their Sufferings as to suffer with them. 
Pity reputed a Vice amongst the Stoics.  I conceived these Examples not ill suited to the Question in hand, and the rather, because therein we observe these great Souls, assaulted and tried by these two several ways, to resist the one without relenting, and to be shaken and subjected by the other.  
It is true, that to suffer a Man's Heart to be totally subdued by Compassion, may be imputed Facility, Effeminacy, and Over-tenderness; whence it comes to pass, that the weakest Natures, as of Women, Children, and the common sort of People, are the most subject to it: but after having resisted, and disdained the Power of Sighs and Tears, to surrender a Man's Animosity to the sole Reverence of the sacred Image of Virtue, this can be no other than the Effect of a strong and inflexible Soul, enamoured of, and ravished with a Masculine and obstinate Valour. Nevertheless, Astonishment and Admiration may in less generous Minds beget a like Effect. Witness the People of Thebes, who having put two of their Generals upon Trial for their Lives, for having continued in Arms beyond the precise Term of their Commission, very hardly pardoned Pelopidas, who bowing under the weight of so dangerous an Accusation, had made no manner of Defence for himself, nor produced other Arguments than Prayers and Supplications to secure his Head; whereas, on the contrary, Epaminondas being brought to the Bar, and falling to magnify the Exploits he had performed in their Service, and after a haughty and arrogant manner reproaching them with Ingratitude and Injustice, they had not the Heart to proceed any further in his Trial, but broke up the Court and departed, the whole Assembly highly commending the Courage and Confidence of this Man. 
The Cruelty of Dionysius the Tyrant.  Dionysius the elder, after having by a tedious Siege, and through exceeding great Difficulties, taken the City of Rhegium, and in it the Governor Phyton, a very gallant Man, who had made so obstinate a Defence, he was resolved to make him a tragical Example of his Revenge; in order whereunto, and the more sensibly to afflict him, he first told him, That he had the Day before caused his Son and all his Kindred to be drowned: To which Phyton returned no other Answer but this, That they were then by one Day happier than he. After which, causing him to be stripped, and delivering him into the Hands of the Tormentors, he was by them not only dragged through the Streets of the Town, and most ignominiously and cruelly whipped, but moreover, vilified with most bitter and contumelious Language: yet still, in the Fury of all this Persecution, he maintained his Courage entire all the way, with a strong Voice and undaunted Countenance proclaiming the glorious Cause of his Death; namely, for that he would not deliver up his Country into the Hands of a Merciless Tyrant; at the same time denouncing against him a sudden Chastisement from the offended Gods. At which the Tyrant rolling his Eyes about, and reading in his Soldiers Looks, that instead of being incensed at the haughty Language of this conquered Enemy, to the Contempt of him their Captain and his Triumph, they not only seemed struck with Admiration of so rare a Virtue, but moreover inclined to Mutiny, and were even ready to rescue the Prisoner out of the Hangman's hands, he caused the Execution to cease, and afterwards privately caused him to be thrown into the Sea. Man (in good earnest) is a marvellous vain, fickle, and unstable Subject, and on whom it is very hard to form any certain or proportionate Judgement. For Pompey could pardon the whole City of the Mammertines, 
Pompey.  though furiously incensed against it, upon the single Account of the Virtue and Magnanimity of one Citizen, Zeno, who took the Fault of the Public wholly upon himself; neither entreated other Favour, but alone to undergo the Punishment for all: and yet Sylla's Host, having in the City of Perusia manifested the same Virtue, obtained nothing by it, either for himself or his Fellow-Citizens. And, directly contrary to my first Examples, the bravest of all Men, and who was reputed so gracious and civil to all those he overcame, Alexander the Great, 
Alexander.  having after many great Difficulties forced the City of Gaza, and entering, found Betis, who commanded there, and of whose Valour in the time of this Siege he had most noble and manifest Proof; alone, forsaken by all his Soldiers, his Arms hacked and hewed to pieces, covered all over with Blood and Wounds, and yet still fight in the Crowd of a great Number of Macedonians, who were laying on him on all sides, he said to him, nettled at so dear bought a Victory, and two fresh Wounds he had newly received in his own Person, Thou shalt not die Betis so honourably as thou dost intend, but shalt assuredly suffer all the Torments that can be inflicted on a miserable Captive. To which Menaces the other returning no other Answer, but only a fierce and disdainful Look; What, 
Obstinate silence of Besis.  says the Conqueror (observing his obstinate Silence) Is he too stiff to bend a Knee! Is he too proud to utter one suppliant Word! I shall certainly conquer this Silence; and if I cannot force a Word from his Mouth, I shall at least extract a Groan from his Heart. And thereupon converting his Anger into Fury, presently commanded his Heels to be bored through, causing him alive to be dragged, mangled, and dismembered at an infamous Carts-Tail. Was it that the height of Courage was so natural and familiar to this Conqueror, that because he could not admire, he should the less esteem this Hero? Or was it that he conceived Valour to be a Virtue so peculiar to himself, that his Pride could not, without Envy, endure it in another? Or was it that the natural Impetuosity of his Fury was incapable of Opposition? Certainly, had it been capable of any manner of Moderation or Society, it is to be believed, that in the Sack and Desolation of Thebes, to see so many valiant Men lost and totally destitute of any further Defence, cruelly massacred before his Eyes, would have appeased it: where there were above six thousand put to the Sword, of which not one was seen to fly, or heard to cry out for Quarter; but on the contrary, every one running here and there to seek out and to provoke the Victorious Enemy to help them to an honourable end. Not one who did not to his last Gasp yet endeavour to revenge himself, and with all the Arms of a brave Despair to sweeten his own Death in the Death of an Enemy. Yet did their Virtue create no Pity, and the length of one day was not enough to satiate the Thirst of the Conquerors Revenge; but the Slaughter continued to the last Drop of Blood that was capable of being shed, and stopped not till it met with none but naked and impotent Persons, old Men, Women, and Children, of them to carry away to the number of thirty thousand Slaves.   

CHAP. II. Of Sorrow.  
NO Man living is more free from this Passion than I, who neither like it in myself, nor admire it in others, and yet generally the World (I know not why) is pleased to grace it with a particular Esteem, endeavouring to make us believe, That Wisdom, Virtue, and Conscience, shrowded themselves under this grave and affected Appearance. Foolish and sordid Disguise! The Italians however under the Denomination of Vn Tristo, decipher a clandestine Nature, a dangerous and ill-natured Man: and with good reason, it being a Quality always hurtful, always idle and vain, and as cowardly, mean, and base, by the Stoics expressly, and particularly forbidden their Sages: But the Story, nevertheless, says, that Psammenitus, King of Egypt, being defeated and taken Prisoner by Cambyses King of Persia, seeing his own Daughter pass by him in a wretched Habit, with a Bucket to draw Water, though hi● Friends about him were so concerned as to break out into Tears and Lamentations at the miserable sight; yet he himself remained unmoved, without uttering a Word of Discontent, with his Eyes fixed upon the Ground: and seeing moreover his Son immediately after led to Execution, still maintained the same Gravity and Indifference; till spying at last one of his Domestics dragged away amongst the Captives, he could then hold no longer, but fell to tearing his Hair, and beating his Breast, with all the other Extravagancies of a wild and desperate Sorrow. A Story that may very fitly be coupled with another of the same kind, of a late Prince of our own Nation, who being at Trent, and having News there brought him of the Death of his elder Brother, but a Brother on whom depended the whole Support and Honour of his House, and soon after of that of a younger Brother, the second Hope of his Family, and having withstood these two Assaults with an exemplary Resolution, one of his Servants happening a few days after to die, he suffered his Constancy to be overcome by this last Accident; and parting with his Courage, so abandoned himself to Sorrow and Mourning, that some from thence were forward to conclude, that he was only touched to the Quick by this last Stroke of Fortune; but, in truth, it was, that being before brim full of Grief, the least Addition overflowed the Bounds of all Patience. Which might also be said of the former Example, did not the Story proceed to tell us, That (Cambyses ask Psammenitus, Why, not being moved at the Calamity of his Son and Daughter, he should with so great Impatience bear the Misfortune of his Friend? It is (answered he) because this last Affliction was only to be manifested by Tears, the two first exceeding all manner of Expression. And peradventure something like this might be working in the Fancy of the ancient Painter, who being in the Sacrifice of Iphigenia to represent the Sorrow of the Assistants proportionably to the several Degrees of Interest every one had in the Death of this fair innocent Virgin; and having in the other Figures laid out the utmost Power of his Art, when he came to that of her Father, he drew him with a Veil over his Face, meaning thereby, that no kind of Countenance was capable of expressing such a degree of Sorrow. Which is also the reason why the Poets feign the miserable Mother Niobe, having first lost seven Sons, and successively as many Daughters, to be at last transformed into a Rock, 

Diriguisse malis, 
Ovid. Met. lib. 6.    

— Whom Grief alone  
Had Power to stiffen into Stone.   Thereby to express, that melancholic, dumb, and deaf Stupidity, which benumbs all our Faculties when oppressed with Accidents greater than we are able to bear; and indeed the Violence and Impression of an excessive Grief must of necessity astonish the Soul, and wholly deprive her of her ordinary Functions: as it happens to every one of us, who upon any sudden Alarm of very ill News, find ourselves surprised, stupefied, and in a manner deprived of all Power of Motion, till the Soul, beginning to vent itself in Sighs and Tears, seems a little to free and disengage itself from the sudden Oppression, and to have obtained some room to work itself out at greater Liberty.  


Aeneid. l. 11.  Et via vix tandem voci laxata dolore est.   

Yet scarce at last by struggling Grief, a Gate  
Unbolted is for Sighs to sally at.   
In the War that Ferdinand made upon the Widow of King John of Hungary about Buda, a Man at Arms was particularly taken notice of by every one for his singular gallant Behaviour in a certain Encounter; unknown, highly commended, and as much lamented, being left dead upon the Place: but by none so much as by Raisciac a Germane Lord, who was infinitely enamoured of so unparalleled a Virtue. When the Body being brought off, and the Count, with the common Curiosity coming to view it, the Arms were no sooner taken off, but he immediately knew him to be his own Son. A thing that added a second Blow to the Compassion of all the Beholders; only he, without uttering a Word, or turning away his Eyes from the woeful Object, stood fixtly contemplating the Body of his Son, till the Vehemency of Sorrow having overcome his Vital Spirits, made him sink down stone-dead to the Ground. 

Chi puo dir com' egli arde è in picciol fuoco? 
Petrarca, Sonetto 158.    

— What Tongue is able to proclaim  
How his Soul melted in the gentle Flame?   say the Inamorato's, when they would represent an insupportable Passion.  

misero quod omnes  
Eripit sensus mihi. Nam simul te  
Lesbian aspexi, 
Cat. Epig. 52.  nihil est super mi  
Quod loquar amen.  
Lingua sed torpet tenuis sub artus  
Flamma dimanat sonitu suopte  
Tinniunt aures, gemina teguntur  
Lumina nocte.   

— all-conquering Lesbian, thine Eyes  
Have ravished from me all my Faculties:  
At the first Glance of their victorious Ray  
I was so struck I knew not what to say;  
Nor had a Tongue to speak, a subtle Flame  
Crept through my Veins; my tinkling Ears became  
Deaf without Noise, & my poor Eyes I found  
With a black Veil of double Darkness bound   
Neither is it in the height and greatest fury of the Fit that we are in a condition to pour out our Complaints, or to sally into Courtship, the Soul being at that time overburdened, and labouring with profound Thoughts; and the Body dejected and languishing with Desire; and thence it is, that sometimes proceed those accidental Impotencies that so unseasonably surprise the willing Lover, and that Frigidity which by the force of an immoderate Ardour so unhappily seizes him even in the very lap of Fruition: For all Passions that suffer themselves to be relished and digested are but moderate.  


Seneca Hipol. Act. 2. Scen. 3.  Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.   

His Grief's but easy who his grief can tell,  
But piercing Sorrow has no Article.   
A surprise of unexpected Joy does likewise often produce the same Effect.  


Virg. Aeneid. 3.  Vt me conspexit venientem, & Troja circum  
Arma amens vidit, magnis exterrita monstris,  
Diriguit visu in medio, calor ossa reliquit,  
Labitur, & longo vix tandem tempore fatur.   

Soon as she saw me coming, and beheld  
The Trojan Ensigns waving in the Field,  
O'er-joyed, and ravished at th'unlooked for sight,  
She turned a Statue, lost all feeling quite;  
Life's gentle Heat did her stiff Limbs forsake,  
She swooned, and scarce after long swooning spoke.   
To these we have the Examples of the Roman Lady, who died for Joy to see her Son safe returned from the defeat of Cannae; and of Sophocles, and Dionysius the Tyrant, who died of Joy; and of Talva, who died in Corsica, reading News of the Honours the Roman Senate had decreed in his Favour. We have moreover one, in our times, of Pope Leo the tenth, who, upon News of the Taking of Milan, a thing he had so ardently and passionately desired, was rap't with so sudden an excess of Joy, that he immediately fell into a Fever and died. And for a more authentic Testimony of the imbecility of Humane Nature, it is recorded by the Ancients, that Diodorus the Logician died upon the Place, out of an extreme Passion of Shame, for not having been able in his own School, and in the presence of a great Auditory, to disengage himself from a nice Argument that was propounded to him. I for my part am very little subject to these violent Passions; I am naturally of a stubborn Apprehension, which also by Discourse I every day harden, and fortify more and more.   

CHAP. III. That our Affections carry themselves beyond us.  
SUch as accuse Mankind of the Folly of gaping and panting after future things, and advise us to make our benefit of those which are present, and to set up our rest upon them, as having too short a reach to lay hold upon that which is to come, and it being more impossible for us, than to retrieve what is past; have hit upon the most universal of Humane Errors, if that may be called an Error to which Nature itself has disposed us, who in order to the subsistence, and continuation of her own Work, has, amongst several others, prepossessed us with this deceiving Imagination, as being more jealous of our Action, than afraid of our Knowledge. For we are never present with, but always beyond ourselves. Fear, Desire, and Hope, are still pushing us on towards the future, depriving us in the mean time of the sense and Consideration of that which is, to amuse us with the thought of what shall be, even when we shall be no more.  


Seneca, Epist. 98.  Calamitosus est Animus futuri anxius.   

A Mind that anxious is of things to come,  
Is still abroad, finding no rest at home.   
We find this great Precept often repeated in Plato, Do thine own Work, and know thyself. Of which two Parts, both the one and the other generally comprehend our whole Duty, and consequently do each of them complicate and involve the other; for, who will do his own Work aright, will find that his first Lesson is to know himself: and who rightly understands himself will never mistake another Man's Work for his own, but will love and improve himself above all other things, will refuse superfluous Employments, and reject all unprofitable Thoughts and Propositions. And, as Folly on the one side, though it should enjoy all it can possibly desire, would notwithstanding never be content, so on the other, Wisdom does ever acquiesce with the present, and is never dissatisfied with its immediate Condition: and that is the reason why Epicurus dispenses his Sages from all Foresight and Care of the future. Amongst those Laws that relate to the Dead, I look upon that to be the best, by which the Actions of Princes are to be examined and sifted after their Decease. They are equal at least, whilst living, if not above the Laws, and therefore what Justice could not inflict upon their Persons, 'tis but reason should be executed upon their Reputations, and the Estates of their Successors; Things that we often value above Life itself: A Custom of singular Advantage to those Countries where it is in use, and by all good Princes as much to be desired, who have reason to take it ill, that the Memories of the Tyrannical and Wicked should be used with the same Reverence and Respect with theirs. We owe, 'tis true, Subjection and Obedience to all our Kings, whether good or bad, alike, for that has respect unto their Office; but as to Affection and Esteem, those are only due to their Virtue. Let it be granted, that by the Rule of Government we are with Patience to endure unworthy Princes, to conceal their Vices, and to assist them in their indifferent Actions, whilst their Authority stands in need of our Support: yet, the Relation of Prince and Subject being once at an end, there is no reason we should deny the Publication of our real Wrongs and Sufferings to our own Liberty and common Justice, and to interdict good Subjects the Glory of having submissively and faithfully served a Prince, whose Imperfections were to them so perfectly known, ne'er to deprive Posterity of so good an Example; and such as out of respect to some private Obligation, shall, against their own Knowledge and Conscience, espouse the Quarrel, and vindicate the Memory of a faulty Prince, do a particular Right at the Expense and to the Prejudice of the Public Justice. Livy does very truly say, That the Language of Men bred up in Courts is always sounding of vain Ostentation, and that their Testimony is rarely true, every one indifferently magnifying his own Master, and stretching his Commendation to the utmost extent of Virtue and Sovereign Grandeur: and 'tis not impossible but some may condemn the Freedom of those two Soldiers, who so roundly answered Nero to his Face, the one being asked by him, Why he bore him ill Will? I loved thee, answered he, whilst thou wert worthy of it, but since thou art become a Parricide, an Incendiary, a Waterman, a Fiddler, a Player, and a Coachman, I hate thee as thou dost deserve: and the other, Why he should attempt to kill him? Because, said he, I could think of no other Remedy against thy perpetual Mischiefs. But the public and universal Testimonies that were given of him after his Death (and will be to all Posterity, both of him and all other wicked Princes like him) his Tyrannies and abominable Deportment considered, who, of a sound Judgement, can reprove them? I am scandalised, I confess, that in so sacred a Government as that of the Lacedæmonians, there should be mixed so hypocritical a Ceremony at the Enterrment of their Kings; where all their Confederates and Neighbours, and all sorts and Degrees of Men and Women, as well as their Slaves, 
Ceremony of the Lacedæmonians at the Enterrment of their Kings.  cut and slashed their Foreheads in Token of Sorrow, repeating in their Cries and Lamentations, That that King (let him have been as wicked as the Devil) was the best that ever they had; by this means attributing to his Quality the Praises that only belong to Merit, and that of Right is properly due to the most supreme Desert, though lodged in the lowest and most inferior Subject. Aristotle (who will still have a hand in every thing) makes a Quaere upon the Saying of Solon, That none can be said to be happy until he be dead. Whether then any one of those who have lived and died according to their Heart's Desire, if he have left an ill Repute behind him, and that his Posterity be miserable, can be said to be happy? Whilst we have Life and Motion, we convey ourselves by Fancy and Preoccupation, whither and to what we please; but once out of Being, we have no more any manner of Communication with what is yet in Being: and it had therefore been better said of Solon, That Man is never happy, because never so till after he is no more.  

— Quisquam  

Lucret. lib● 3.  Vix radicitus è vita se tollit, & ejicit  
Sed facit esse sui quiddam super inscius ipse,  
Nec removet satis à projecto corpore seize, & Vindicat.   

No dying Man can truss his Baggage so,  
But something of him he must leave below:  
Nor from his Carcase that doth prostrate lie  
Himself can clear, or far enough can fly.   
Bertrand de Glesquin, dying before the Castle of Rancon near unto Puy in Auvergne, the Besieged were afterwards, upon Surrender, enjoined to lay down the Keys of the Place upon the Corpse of the dead General. Bartolomew d' Alviano, the Venetian General, happening to die in the Service of the Republic in Brascia; and his Corpse being to be carried through the Territory of Verona, an Enemy's Country, most of the Army were of Opinion to demand safe Conduct from the Veronese, supposing, that upon such an Occasion it would not be denied: but Theodoro Trivulsio highly opposed the Motion, rather choosing to make his way by force of Arms, and to run the hazard of a Battle, saying, it was by no means decent, and very unfit, that he who in his Life was never afraid of his Enemies should seem to apprehend them when he was dead. And in truth, in Affairs of almost the same Nature, by the Greek Laws, he who made Suit to an Enemy for a Body to give it Burial, did by that Act renounce his Victory, and had no more Right to erect a Trophy; and he to whom such Suit was made, was ever, whatever otherwise the Success had been, reputed Victor. By this means it was, that Nicias lost the Advantage he had visibly obtained over the Corinthians, and that Agesilaus on the contrary, assured that he had before very doubtfully gained of the Baeotians. These Proceedings might appear very odd, had it not been a general Practice in all Ages, not only to extend the Concern of our Persons beyond the Limits of Life, but moreover, to fancy that the Favour of Heaven does not only very often accompany us to the Grave, but has also, even after Life, a Concern for our Ashes: of which there are so many ancient Examples (waving those of our own Observation of later date) that it is not very necessary I should longer insist upon it. Edward King of England, and the first of that Name, having in the long Wars betwixt him and Robert King of Scotland, had sufficient Experience of how great Importance his own immediate Presence was to the Success of his Affairs, having ever been victorious in whatever he undertook in his own Person; when he came to die, bound his Son in a solemn Oath, that so soon as he should be dead, he should boil his Body till the Flesh parted from the Bones, and reserve them to carry continually with him in his Army, so often as he should be obliged to go against the Scots; as if Destiny had inevitably grappled Victory even to those miserable Remains. Jean Zisca, the same who so often in Vindication of Wicliffe's Heresies, infested the Bohemian State, left order that they should flay him after his Death, and of his Skin to make a Drum, to carry in the War against his Enemies, fancying it would much contribute to the Continuation of the Successes he had always obtained in the War against them. In like manner, certain of the Indians, in a Day of Battle with the Spaniards, carried with them the Bones of one of their Captains, in consideration of the Victories they had formerly obtained under his Conduct. And other People of the same new World do yet carry about with them in their Wars the Relics of valiant Men who have died in Battle, to incite their Courage, and advance their Fortune: of which Examples, the first reserve nothing for the Tomb, but the Reputation they have acquired by their former Achievements; but these proceed yet further, and attribute a certain Power of Operation. The last Act of Captain Bayard is of a much better Composition; who, finding himself wounded to Death with a Harquebus Shot, and being by his Friends importuned to retire out of the Fight, made Answer, That he would not begin at the last Gasp to turn his Back to the Enemy; and accordingly still fought on, till feeling himself too faint, and no longer able to sit his Horse, he commanded his Steward to set him down against the Root of a Tree, but so that he might die with his Face towards the Enemy, which he also did. I must yet add another Example equally remarkable, for the present Consideration, with any of the former. The Emperor Maximilian, great Grandfather to Philip the Second, King of Spain, was a Prince endowed throughout with great and extraordinary Qualities, and amongst the rest, with a singular Beauty of Person; but had withal, a Humour very contrary to that of other Princes, who for the dispatch of their most Important Affairs convert their Close-stool into a Chair of State, which was, that he would never permit any of his Bedchamber, 
Modesty of Maximilian the Emperor.  in what familiar degree of Favour soever, to see him in that Posture; and would steal aside to make Water as religiously as a Virgin, and was as shy to discover either to his Physician, or any other whatever, those Parts that we are accustomed to conceal: and I myself, who have so impudent a way of Talking, am nevertheless naturally so modest this way, that unless at the Importunity of Necessity, or Pleasure, I very rarely and unwillingly communicate to the Sight of any, either those Parts or Actions that Custom order us to conceal, wherein I also suffer more Constraint than I conceive is very well becoming a Man, especially of my Profession: but he nourished this modest Humour to such a degree of Superstition, as to give express Orders in his last Will, that they should put him on Drawers so soon as he should be dead; to which methinks he would have done well to have added, that he should have been hoodwinked too that put them on. The Charge that Cyrus left with his Children, that neither they nor any other should either see or touch his Body after the Soul was departed from it, 
Cyrus' Reverence to Religion. Xenophon.  I attribute to some superstitious Devotion of his, both his Historian, and Himself, amongst other great Qualities, having strewed the whole Course of their Lives with a singular Respect to Religion. I was by no means pleased with a Story was told me by a Man of very great Quality, of a Relation of mine, and one who had given a very good Account of himself both in Peace and War; that coming to die in a very old Age, of an excessive Pain of the Stone, he spent the last Hours of his Life in an extraordinary Solitude about ordering the Ceremony of his Funeral, pressing all the Men of Condition who came to see him, to engage their Word to attend him to his Grave, importuning this very Prince, who came to visit him at his last Gasp, with a most earnest Supplication, that he would order his Family to be assisting there, and withal representing before him several Reasons and Examples to prove that it was a Respect due to a Man of his Condition; and seemed to die content, having obtained this Promise, and appointed the Method and Order of this Funeral Parade. I have seldom heard of so long-lived a Vanity. Another, though contrary Solitude (of which also I do not want domestic Example,) seems to be somewhat a Kin to this; That a Man shall cudgel his Brains at the last Moment's of his Life, to contrive his Obsequies to so particular and unusual a Parsimony, as to conclude it in the sordid expense of one single Servant with a Candle and Lantern. And yet I see this Humour commended, and the Appointment of Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, who forbade his Heirs to bestow upon his Hearse even the common Ceremonies in use upon such Occasions. Is it yet Temperance and Frugality to avoid the Expense and Pleasure of which the use and knowledge is imperceptible to us? See here an easy and cheap Reformation. If Instruction were at all necessary in this case, I should be of Opinion, that in this, as in all other Actions of Life, the Ceremony and Expense should be regulated by the Ability of the Person deceased; and the Philosopher Lycon prudently ordered his Executors to dispose of his Body where they should think most fit, and as to his Funerals, to order them neither too superfluous, nor too mean. For my part, I should wholly refer the ordering of this Ceremony to Custom, and shall, when the time comes, accordingly leave it to their Discretion, to whose Lot it shall fall to do me that last Office. Totus hic locus est contemnendus in nobis non negligendus in nostris; 
Cicero tusc. l. 1.  The Place of our Sepulture is wholly to be contemned by us, but not to be neglected by our Friends; and it was a holy Saying of a Saint, Curatio funeris conditio Sepulturae, 
August. de Civit. Dei.  pompa Exequiarum, magis sunt vivorum solatia, quam subsidia mortuorum, The Care of Funerals, the Place of Sepulture, and the Pomp's of Exequys, are rather Consolations to the Living than any Benefit to the Dead. Which made Socrates answer Criton, who at the Hour of his Death asked him, how he would be buried, How you will, said he. If I could concern myself further than the Present about this Affair, I should be most tempted, as the greatest Satisfaction of this kind, to imitate those who in their Life-time entertain themselves with the Ceremony of their own Obsequies beforehand, and are pleased with viewing their own Monument, and beholding their own dead Countenance in Marble. Happy are they who can gratify their Senses by Insensibility, and live by their Death! I am ready to conceive an implacable Hatred against all Democracy and Popular Government, (though I cannot but think it the most natural and equitable of all others) so oft as I call to mind the inhuman Injustice of the People of Athens, who, without Remission, or once vouchsafing to hear what they had to say for themselves, put to death their brave Captains newly returned triumphant from a Naval Victory they had obtained over the Lacedæmonians near the Arginusian Isles; the most bloody and obstinate Engagement that ever the Greeks fought at Sea; for no other Reason, but that they rather followed their Blow and pursued the Advantages prescribed them by the Rule of War, than that they would stay to gather up and bury their Dead: an Execution that is yet rendered more odious by the Behaviour of Diomedon, who being one of the condemned, and a Man of most eminent, both politic and military Virtue, after having heard their Sentence, advancing to speak, no Audience till then having been allowed, instead of laying before them his own Innocency, or the Impiety of so cruel an Arrest, only expressed a Solitude for his Judge's Preservation, beseeching the Gods to convert this Sentence to their own Good, and praying that for neglecting to pay those Vows which he and his Companions had done (which he also acquainted them with) in Acknowledgement of so glorious a Success, they might not pull down the Indignation of the Gods upon them; and so without more Words went courageously to his Death. But Fortune a few Years after punishing them in their kind, made them see the Error of their Cruelty: for Chabrias, Captain-General of their Naval Forces, having got the better of polis, Admiral of Sparta, about the Isle of Naxos, totally lost the Fruits of his Success and Content with his Victory of very great Importance to their Affairs: not to incur the danger of this Example, and lose a few Bodies of his dead Friends that were floating in the Sea, gave opportunity to a world of living Enemies to sail away in Safety, who afterwards made them pay dear for this unseasonable Superstition.  

Quaeris quae jaceas post obitum loco? 
Seneca Troa Choro. 2.   
Quae non nata jacent.   

Dost ask where thou shalt lie when dead?  
With those that never Being had.   
This other restores the sense of Repose to a Body without a Soul: 

Neque sepulcrum, quo recipiat, habeat portum corporis: 
Cicero Tusc. l. 1.   
Vbi remissa humana vita, Corpus requiescat à malis.   

Nor with a Tomb as with a Haven blest,  
Where, after Life, the Corpse in Peace may rest.    
As Nature demonstrates to us, that several dead things retain yet an occult Sympathy and relation to Life; Wine changes its flavour and complexion in Cellars, according to the changes and seasons of the Vine from whence it came; and the Flesh of Venison altars its condition and taste in the powd'ring-tub, according to the seasons of the living Flesh of its kind, as it is observed by the curious.   

CHAP. IU. That the Soul discharges her Passions upon false Objects, where the true are wanting.  
A Gentleman of my Country, who was very often tormented with the Gout, being importuned by his Physicians totally to reclaim his Appetite from all manner of salt Meats, was wont presently to reply, that he must needs have something to quarrel with in the extremity of his Fits, and that he fancied, that railing at, and cursing one while the Bolognia Sausages, and another the dried Tongues and the hams, was some mitigation to his pain. And in good earnest, as the Arm when it is advanced to strike, if it fail of meeting with that upon which it was designed to discharge the blow, and spends itself in vain, does offend the Striker himself; and as also, that to make a pleasant Prospect the Sight should not be lost and dilated in a vast extent of empty Air, but have some Bounds to limit and circumscribe it at a reasonable distance, 

Ventus ut amittit vires, nisi robore densae  
Occurrant Sylvae, spatio diffusus inani.   

As Winds do lose their strength, unless withstood  
By some dark Grove of strong opposing wood.    
So it appears, that the Soul, being transported and discomposed, turns its violence upon itself, if not supplied with something to oppose it, and therefore always requires an Enemy object on which to discharge its Fury and Resentment. Plutarch says very well of those who are delighted with little Dogs and Monkeys; that the amorous part that is in us, for want of a legitimate Object, rather than lie idle, does after that manner forge, and create one frivolous and false; as we see that the Soul, in the exercise of its Passions, inclines rather to deceive itself, by creating a false and fantastical Subject, even contrary to its own Belief, than not to have something to work upon. And after this manner Brute Beasts direct their Fury to fall upon the Stone or Weapon that has hurt them, and with their Teeth even execute their Revenge upon themselves, for the Injury they have received from another.  

Pannonis haud aliter post ictum saevior Vrsa 
Claudian.   
Cui jaculum parva Lybis amentavit habena,  
Se rotat in vulnus telumque irata receptum  
Impetit, & secum fugientem circuit Hastam.   

So the fierce Bear, made fiercer by the smart  
Of the bold Lybians mortal guided Dart,  
Turns round upon the Wound, and the tough Spear  
Contorted o'er her Breast does flying bear.   
What causes of the misadventures that befall us do we not invent? what is it that we do not lay the fault to right or wrong, that we may have something to quarrel with? Those beautiful Tresses, young Lady, you may so liberally tear off, are no way guilty, nor is it the whiteness of those delicate Breasts you so unmercifully beat, that with an unlucky Bullet has slain your beloved Brother; quarrel with something else. Livy, speaking of the Roman Army in Spain, says, that for the loss of two Brothers, who were both great Captains, Flere omnes repent, & offensare capita, 
Livy dec. 3. l. 5.  that they all wept, and tore their Hair. 'Tis the common practice of Affliction. And the Philosopher Bion said pleasantly of the King, who by handfuls pulled his Hair off his Head for Sorrow, Does this man think that Baldness is a Remedy for Grief? Who has not seen peevish Gamesters worry the Cards with their Teeth, and swallow whole Bales of Dice in revenge for the Loss of their Money? Xerxes' whipped the Sea, and writ a Challenge to Mount Athos; Cyrus employed a whole Army several days at work, to revenge himself of the River Gnydus, for the Fright it had put him into in passing over; and Caligula demolished a very beautiful Palace for the Pleasure his Mother had once enjoyed there. I remember there was a Story currant, when I was a Boy, That one of our Neighbouring Kings having received a Blow from the Hand of GOD, swore he would be revenged, and in order to it, made Proclamation, that for ten Years to come no one should pray to him, or so much as mention him throughout his Dominions: by which we are not so much to take measure of the Folly, as the Vainglory of the Nation of which this Tale was told. They are Vices that indeed always go together; but such Actions as these have in them more of Presumption than want of Wit. Augustus Caesar, having been tossed with a Tempest at Sea, fell to defying Neptune, and in the Pomp of the Circensian Games, to be revenged, deposed his Statue from the place it had amongst the other Deities. Wherein he was less excusable than the former, and less than he was afterwards, when having lost a Battle under Quintilius Varus in Germany, in Rage and Despair he went running his Head against the Walls, and crying out, O Varus! give me my Men again! for these exceed all Folly, forasmuch as Impiety is joined with it, invading God himself, or at least Fortune, as if she had Ears that were subject to our Batteries; like the Thracians, who when it Thunders or Lightens, fall to Shooting against Heaven with a Titanian Madness, as if by Flights of Arrows they intended to reduce God Almighty to Reason. Though the ancient Poet in Plutarch tells us, 

Point ne se faut couroucer aux affairs,  

Plutarch.  Il ne leur chaut de toutes nos choleres.   

We must not quarrel Heaven in our Affairs,  
That little for a mortal Anger cares.    
But we can never enough decry nor sufficiently condemn the senseless and ridiculous Sallies of our unruly Passions.   

CHAP. V. Whether the Governor of a Place besieged aught himself to go out to parley.  
LVcius Marcius, the Roman Legate, in the War against Persius' King of Macedon, to gain time wherein to reinforce his Army, set on foot some Overtures of Accommodation, with which the King being lulled asleep, concluded a Cessation for certain days, by this means giving his Enemy opportunity and leisure to repair his Arms, which was afterward the Occasion of his own Ruin. The elder sort of Senators, notwithstanding mindful of their Forefathers Virtue, were by no means satisfied with this Proceeding; but on the contrary condemned it, as degenerating from their ancient Practice, which they said was by Valour, and not by Artifice, Surprises, and Night-Encounters; neither by pretended Flight, Ambuscadoes, and deceitful Treaties, to overcome their Enemies; never making War till having first denounced it, and very often assigned both the Hour and Place of Battle. Out of this generous Principle it was that they delivered up to Pyrrhus his treacherous Physician, and to the Etrurians their disloyal Schoolmaster. And this was indeed a Procedure truly Roman, and nothing allied to the Grecian Subtlety, nor the Punic Cunning, where it was reputed a Victory of less Glory to overcome by Force than Fraud. Deceit may serve for a need, but he only confesses himself overcome who knows he is neither subdued by Policy, nor Misadventure, but by dint of Valour, in a fair and manly War. And it very well appears by the Discourse of these good old Senators, that this fine Sentence was not yet received amongst them, 

— Dolus an virtus quis in Host requirat? 
Aeneid. l. 2.    

No Matter if by Valour, or Deceit,  
We overcome, so we the better get.    
The Achaians (says Polybius) abhorred all manner of double-dealing in War, not reputing it a Victory, unless where the Courages of the Enemy were fairly subdued. 
Tacit. in Agric.  Eam vir sanctus, & sapiens sciet veram esse victoriam, quae salva fide, & integra dignitate parabitur. An honest and a prudent Man will acknowledge that only to be a true Victory which he has obtained without Violation of his own Faith, or any Blemish upon his own Honour, says another.  


Ennius.  Vos ne velit, an me regnare hera quidve ferat for'rs  
Virtute experiamur.   

If you or I shall rule, le's fairly try,  
And Force and Fortune give the Victory.   
In the Kingdom of Ternates, amongst those Nations which we so broadly call Barbarians, they have a Custom never to commence War till it be first denounced; adding withal, an ample Declaration of what they have to do it withal, with what, and how many Men, what Ammunitions, and what both offensive and defensive Arms; but that being done, they afterward conceive it lawful to employ this Power without Reproach, any way that may best conduce to their own ends. The ancient Florentines were so far from obtaining any Advantage over their Enemies by Surprise, that they always gave them a Months Warning before they drew their Army into the Field, by the continual Tolling of a Bell they called Martinella. For what concerns us who are not so scrupulous in this Affair, and who attribute the Honour of the War to him who has the better of it, after what manner soever obtained, and who after Lysander say, Where the Lion's Skin is too short we must eech it out with the Fox's Case. The most usual Occasions of Surprise are derived from this Practice, and we hold that there are no moments, wherein a Chief aught to be more circumspect, and to have his Eye so much at watch, as those of Parle's, and Treaties of Accommodation; and it is therefore become a general Rule amongst the Martial men of these latter Times, that a Governor of a Place never ought in a time of Siege to go out to parley. It was for this that in our Father's days the Signior de Montmard and d' Assigni defending Mouson against the Count de Nassau, were so highly censured; yet in this Case it would be excusable in that Governor, who going out, should notwithstanding do it in such manner, that the Safety and Advantage should be on his side; as Count Guido de Rangoni did at Reggio (if we are to believe Bellay, for Guicciardin says it was he himself) when Monsieur de l' Escut approached to parley, who stepped so little a way from his Fort, that a Disorder happening in the interim of Parle, not only Monsieur de l' Escut and his Party who were advanced with him found themselves by much the weaker, (insomuch that Alessandro de Trivulcio was there slain) but he himself was constrained, as the safest way, to follow the Count, and relying upon his Honour to secure himself from the danger of the Shot within the very Walls of the Town. Eumenes, being shut up in the City of Nora by Antigonus, and by him importuned to come out to speak with him, as he sent him word it was fit he should to a better Man than himself, and one who had now an Advantage over him, returned this notable Answer, Tell him, said he, that I shall never think any Man better than myself, whilst I have my Sword in my hand: and would never consent to come out to him, till first, according to his own Demand, Antigonus had delivered him his own Nephew Ptolomeus in Hostage. And yet some have done rather better than worse in going out in Person to parley with the Assailant; witness Henry de Vaux, a Cavalier of Champagne, who being besieged by the English in the Castle of Commercy, and Bartholomew de Bone, who commanded at the Leaguer, having so sapped the greatest part of the Castle without, that nothing remained but setting Fire to the Props to bury the Besieged under the Ruins, he requested the said Henry to come out to speak with him for his own Good; which the other accordingly doing, with three more in Company with him, and his own evident Ruin being made apparent to him, he conceived himself singularly obliged to his Enemy, to whose Discretion after he and his Garrison had surrendered themselves, Fire being presently applied to the Mine, the Props no sooner began to fail, but the Castle was immediately turned topsy turvy, no one Stone being left upon another. I could, and do, with great Facility, rely upon the Faith of another; but I should very unwillingly do it in such a Case, as it should thereby be judged that it was rather an Effect of my Despair, and want of Courage, than voluntary, and out of Confidence and Security in the Faith of him with whom I had to do.   

CHAP. VI That the Hour of Parle is dangerous.  
I Saw notwithstanding lately at Mussidan, a Place not far from my House, that those who were driven out thence by our Army, and others of their Party, highly complained of Treachery, for that during a Treaty of Accommodation, and in the very interim that their Deputies were treating, they were surprised, and cut to pieces: a thing that peradventure in another Age, might have had some colour of foul Play; but (as I said before) the Practice of Arms in these days is quite another thing, and there is now no Confidence in an Enemy excusable, till after the last Seal of Obligation; and even then the Conqueror has enough to do to keep his Word: so hazardous a thing it is to intrust the Observation of the Faith a Man has engaged to a Town that surrenders upon easy and favourable Conditions, to the Necessity, Avarice, and Licence of a victorious Army, and to give the Soldier free Entrance into it in the heat of Blood. 
The Faith of military Men very uncertain.  Lucius Aemilius Regillus, a Roman Praetor, having lost his time in attempting to take the City of Phocaea by force, by reason of the singular Valour wherewith the Inhabitants defended themselves against him, conditioned at last to receive them as Friends to the People of Rome, and to enter the Town, as into a Confederate City, without any manner of Hostility; of which he also gave them all possible Assurance: but having for the greater Pomp brought his whole Army in with him, it was no more in his Power, with all the Endeavour he could use, to command his People: so that Avarice and Revenge despising and trampling under foot both his Authority and all Military Discipline, he there at once saw his own Faith violated, and a considerable part of the City sacked and ruined before his Face. Cleomenes was wont to say, That what Mischief soever a Man could do his Enemy in time of War was above Justice, and nothing accountable to it in the Sight of Gods and Men. And according to this Principle, having concluded a Cessation with those of Argos for seven days, the third Night after he fell upon them when they were all buried in Security and Sleep, and put them to the Sword; alleging for his Excuse, That there had no Nights been mentioned in the Truce: but the Gods punished his Perfidy. In a time of Parle also, and that the Citizens were intent upon their Capitulation, the City of Cassilinum was taken by Surprise, and that even in the Age of the justest Captains, and the best Discipline of the Roman Militia: for it is not said, that it is not lawful for us in Time and Place to make Advantage of our Enemies want of Understanding, as well as their want of Courage: and doubtless War has a great many Privileges, that appear reasonable, even to the Prejudice of Reason. And therefore here the Rule fails, Neminem id agere ut ex alterius praedetur inscitia, 
Cicero de Offic. l. 3.  That no one should pray upon another's Folly. But I am astonished at the great Liberty allowed by Xenophon in such Cases, and that both by Precept, and the Example of several Exploits of his complete General. An Author of very great Authority, I confess, in those Affairs, as being in his own Person both a great Captain and a Philosopher of the first Form of Socrates his Disciples; and yet I cannot consent to such a measure of Licence as he dispenses in all Things and Places. Monsieur d' Aubigny, having besieged Capua, and played a furious Battery against it, Signior Fabricio Colonne, Governor of the Town, having from a Bastion begun to parley, and his Soldiers in the mean time being a little more remiss in their Guard, our People took advantage of their Security, entered the Place at unawares, and put them all to the Sword. And of later Memory, at Yvoy, Signior Juliano Romero having played that part of a Novice to go out to Capitulate with the Constable, at his Return found his Place taken. But, that we might not scape Scot-free, the Marquis of Pescara having laid Siege to Genoa, where Duke Octavio Fregosa commanded under our Protection, and the Articles betwixt them being so far advanced that it was looked upon as a done thing, and upon the Point to be concluded, several Spaniards in the mean time being slipped in under the Privilege of the Treaty, seized on the Gates, and made use of this Treachery as an absolute and fair Victory: and since at Ligny in Barrois, where the Count de Brienne commanded, the Emperor having in his own Person beleaguered that Place, and Bartheville, the said Count's Lieutenant, going out to parley, whilst he was Capitulating the Town was taken. 


Ariosto. Cant. 15.  Furio il vincer sempre maj laudabil cosae  
Vinca si o per fortuna, o per ingegno.   

Fame ever does the Victor's Praises ring,  
And Conquest ever was a glorious thing,  
Which way soe'er the Conqueror purchased it,  
Whether by Valour, Fortune, or by Wit.   say they: But the Philosopher Chrysippus was of another Opinion, wherein I also concur; for he was used to say, That those who run a Race, aught to employ all the Force they have in what they are about, and to run as fast as they can; but that it is by no means fair in them to lay any hand upon their Adversary to stop him, nor to set a Leg before him to throw him down. And yet more generous was the Answer of that great Alexander to Polypercon, who persuaded him to take the Advantage of the Night's Obscurity to fall upon Darius; By no means (said he) it is not for such a Man as I am to steal a Victory, Malo me fortunae poeniteat, 
Quint. Curt. 1.4.  quam victoriae pudeat, I had rather repent me of my Fortune than be ashamed of my Victory.  

Atque idem fugientem haud est dignatus Orodem 
Aeneid. l. 10.   
Sternere, nec jacta coecum dare Cuspide vulnus:  
Obvius, adversoque occurrit, seque viro vir  
Contulit, haud furto melior, sed fortibus armis.   

His Heart disdained to strike Orodes dead,  
Or, unseen, basely wound him as he fled;  
But gaining first his Front, wheels round, and there  
Bravely opposed himself to his Career:  
And fight Man to Man, would let him see  
His Valour scorned both Odds and Policy.    

CHAP. VII. That the Intention is Judge of our Actions.  
'TIS a Saying, That Death discharges us of all our Obligations. However, I know some who have taken it in another Sense. Henry the Seventh, King of England, articled with Don Philip Son to Maximilian the Emperor, and Father to the Emperor Charles the Fifth, when he had him upon English Ground, that the said Philip should deliver up the Duke of Suffolk of the White Rose, his mortal Enemy, who was fled into the Low Countries, into his Hands; which Philip (not knowing how to evade it) accordingly promised to do, but upon condition nevertheless, that Henry should attempt nothing against the Life of the said Duke, which, during his own Life he performed; but coming to die, in his last Will, commanded his Son to put him to Death immediately after his Decease. And lately, in the Tragedy, that the Duke of Alva presented to us in the Persons of two Counts, Egmont and Horn, at Brussels, there were very remarkable Passages, and one amongst the rest, that the said Count Egmont (upon the security of whose Word and Faith Count Horn had come and surrendered himself to the Duke of Alva) earnestly entreated that he might first mount the Scaffold, to the end that Death might disengage him from the Obligation he had passed to the other. In which Case, methinks Death did not acquit the former of his Promise, and the second was satisfied in the good Intention of the other, even though he bade not died with him: for we cannot be obliged beyond what we are able to perform, by reason that the Effects and Intentions of what we promise are not at all in our Power, and that indeed we are Masters of nothing but the Will, in which, by necessity, all the Rules and whole Duty of Mankind is founded and established. And therefore Count Egmont, conceiving his Soul and Will bound and indebted to his Promise, although he had not the Power to make it good, had doubtless been absolved of his Duty, even though he had outlived the other; but the King of England wilfully and premeditately breaking his Faith, was no more to be excused for deferring the Execution of his Infidelity till after his Death, than Herodotus his Mason, who having inviolably, during the time of his Life, kept the Secret of the Treasure of the King of Egypt his Master, at his Death discovered it to his Children. I have taken notice of several in my time, who, convinced by their Consciences of unjustly detaining the Goods of another, have endeavoured to make amends by their Will, and after their Decease: but they had as good do nothing, and delude themselves both in taking so much time in so pressing an Affair, and also in going about to repair an Injury with so little Demonstration of Resentment and Concern. They owe over and above something of their own, and by how much their Payment is more strict and incommodious to themselves, by so much is their Restitution more perfect, just, and meritorious; for Penitency requires Penance: but they yet do worse than these, who reserve the Declaration of a mortal Animosity against their Neighbour to the last Gasp, having concealed it all the time of their Lives before, wherein they declare to have little regard of their own Honour whilst they irritate the Party offended against their Memory; and less to their Conscience, not having the Power, even out of Respect to Death itself, to make their Malice die with them; but extending the Life of their Hatred even beyond their own. Unjust Judges, who defer Judgement to a time wherein they can have no Knowledge of the Cause! For my part, I shall take Care, if I can, that my Death discover nothing that my Life has not first openly manifested, and publicly declared.   

CHAP. VIII. Of Idleness.  
AS we see some Grounds that have long lain idle, and untilled, when grown rank and fertile by rest, to abound with, and spend their Virtue, in the Product of innumerable sorts of Weeds, and wild Herbs, that are unprofitable, and of no wholesome use, and that to make them perform their true Office, we are to cultivate and prepare them for such Seeds as are proper for our Service. And as we see Women that without the Knowledge of Men do sometimes of themselves bring forth inanimate and formless Lumps of Flesh, but that to cause a natural and perfect Generation they are to be husbanded with another kind of Seed; even so it is with Wits, which if not applied to some certain Study that may fix and restrain them, run into a thousand Extravagancies, and are eternally roving hear and there in the inextricable Labyrinth of restless Imagination.  

Sicut aquae tremulum labris ubi lumen ahenis  
Sole repercussum, aut radiantis imagine Lunae, 
Aeneid. l. 8.   
Omnia per-volitat latè loca, jamque sub auras  
Erigitur, summique ferit laquearia tecti.   

Like as the quivering Reflection  
Of Fountain Waters, when the Morning Sun  
Darts on the Basin, or the Moon's pale Beam  
Gives Light and Colour to the captive Stream,  
Whips with fantastic motion round the place,  
And Walls and Roof strikes with its trembling Rays.   
In which wild and irregular Agitation, there is no Folly, nor idle Fancy they do not light upon: 

— velut aegri somnia, vanae  

Hor. de Arte Poetica.  Finguntur species—   

Like sick men's Dreams, that from a troubled Brain  
Phantasms create, ridiculous and vain.    
The Soul that has no established Limit to circumscribe it, loses itself, as the Epigrammatist says, 


Martial. lib. 7. Epig. 72.  Quisquis ubique habitat, maxim nusquam habitat.   

He that lives every where, does no where live.    
When I lately retired myself to my own House, with a Resolution, as much as possibly I could, to avoid all manner of Concern in Affairs, and to spend in privacy and repose the little remainder of time I have to Live: I fancied I could not more oblige my mind than to suffer it at full leisure to entertain and divert itself, which I also now hoped it might the better be entrusted to do, as being by Time and Observation become more settled and mature; but I find, 

— variam semper dant otia mentem. 
Lucan. l. 4.    

— Even in the most retired Estate  
Leisure itself does various Thoughts create.   that, quite contrary, it is like a Horse that has broke from his Rider, who voluntarily runs into a much more violent Career than any Horseman would put him to, and creates me so many Chimaeras and fantastic Monsters one upon another, without Order or Design, that, the better at leisure to contemplate their Strangeness and Absurdity, I have begun to commit them to Writing, hoping in time to make them ashamed of themselves.   

CHAP. IX. Of Liars.  
THere is not a Man living, whom it would so little become to speak of Memory as myself, for I have none at all; and do not think that the World has again another so treacherous as mine. My other Faculties are all very ordinary and mean; but in this I think myself very singular, and to such a Degree of Excellence, that (besides the Inconvenience I suffer by it, which merits something) I deserve, methinks, to be famous for it, and to have more than a common Reputation: though, in truth, the necessary 〈◊〉 of Memory considered, Plato had Reason when he called it a great and powerful Goddess. In my Country, when they would decipher a Man that has no Sense, they say, such a one has no Memory; and when I complain of mine, they seem not to believe I am in earnest, and presently reprove me, as though I accused myself for a Fool, not discerning the Difference betwixt Memory and Understanding; wherein they are very wide of my Intention, and do me Wrong: Experience rather daily showing us on the contrary, that a strong Memory is commonly coupled with infirm Judgement: and they do me moreover (who am so perfect in nothing as the good Friend) at the same time a greater Wrong in this, that they make the same Words which accuse my Infirmity, represent me for an ingrateful Person; wherein they bring my Integrity and good Nature into Question upon the account of my Memory, and from a natural Imperfection, unjustly derive a defect of Conscience. He has forgot, says one, this Request, or that Promise; he no more remembers his Friends, he has forgot to say or do, or to conceal such and such a thing for my sake. And truly, I am apt enough to forget many things, but to neglect any thing my Friend has given me in charge, I never do it. And it should be enough, methinks, that I feel the Misery and Inconvenience of it, without branding me with Malice, a Vice so much a Stranger, and so contrary to my Nature. However, I derive these Comforts from my Infirmity; first, that it is an Evil from which principally I have found reason to correct a worse, that would easily enough have grown upon me, namely, Ambition; this Defect being intolerable in those who take upon them the Negotiations of the World, an Employment of the greatest Honour and Trust among Men: secondly, that (as several like Examples in the Progress of Nature demonstrate to us) she has fortified me in my other Faculties, proportionably as she has unfurnished me in this; I should otherwise have been apt implicitly to have reposed my Wit and Judgement upon the bare Report of other Men, without ever setting them to work upon any Inquisition whatever, had the strange Inventions and Opinions of the Authors I have read been ever present with me by the Benefit of Memory: thirdly, That by this Means I am not so talkative, for the Magazine of the Memory is ever better furnished with matter than that of the Invention; and had mine been faithful to me, I had e'er this, deafed all my Friends with my eternal Babble, the Subjects themselves rousing and stirring up the little Faculty I have of handling, and applying them, heating and extending my Discourse. 'Tis a great Imperfection, and what I have observed in several of my intimate Friends, who, as their Memories supply them with a present and entire Review of things, derive their Narrative from so remote a Fountain, and crowd them with so many impertinent Circumstances, that though the Story be good in itself, they make a shift to spoil it; and if otherwise, you are either to curse the Strength of their Memory, or the Weakness of their Judgement: and it is a hard thing to close up a Discourse, and to cut it short, when you are once in, and have a great deal more to say. Neither is there any thing wherein the Force and Readiness of a Horse is so much seen, as in a round, graceful, and sudden stop; and I see even those who are pertinent enough, who would, but cannot stop short in their Career: for whilst they are seeking out a handsome Period to conclude the Sense, they talk at random, and are so perplexed, and entangled in their own Eloquence, that they know not what they say. But above all, old Men, who yet retain the Memory of things past, and forget how often they have told them, are the most dangerous Company for this fault; and I have known Stories from the Mouth of a Man of very great Quality, otherwise very pleasant in themselves, become very troublesome, by being a hundred times repeated over and over again. The fourth Obligation I have to this infirm Memory of mine, is, that by this means I less remember the Injuries I have received; insomuch, that (as the Ancient said) I should have a Protocole, a Register of Injuries, or a Prompter, like Darius, who, that he might not forget the Offence he had received from those of Athens, so oft as he sat down to Dinner, ordered one of his Pages three times to whoop in his Ear, Sir, remember the Athenians: and also, the Places which I revisit, and the Books I read over again, still smile upon me with a fresh Novelty. It is not without good Reason said, That he who has not a good Memory should never take upon him the Trade of Lying. I know very well, that the Grammarians distinguish betwixt an Untruth and a Lie, and say, that to tell an Untruth is to tell a thing that is false, but that we ourselves believe to be true; and that to Lie, is to tell a thing which we know in our Conscience to be utterly false and untrue; and it is of this last sort of Liars only that I now speak. Now these do either wholly contrive and invent the Untruths they utter, or so alter and disguise a true Story, that it always ends in a Lie; and when they disguise and often alter the same Story according to their own Fancy, 'tis very hard for them at one time or another to escape being trapped, by reason that the real Truth of the Thing having first taken Possession of the Memory, and being there lodged, and imprinted by the way of Knowledge and Science, it will be ever ready to present itself to the Imagination, and to shoulder out any Falsehood of their own contriving, which cannot there have so sure and settled Footing as the other; and the Circumstances of the first true Knowledge evermore running in their Minds, will be apt to make them forget those that are illegitimate, and only forged by their own Fancy. In what they wholly invent, forasmuch as there is no contrary Impression to justle their Invention, there seems to be less danger of tripping; and yet even this also, by reason it is a vain Body, and without any other Foundation than Fancy only, is very apt to escape the Memory, if they be not careful to make themselves very perfect in their Tale. Of which I have had very pleasant Experience, at the Expense of such as profess only to form, and accommodate their Speech▪ to the Affair they have in hand, or to the Humour of the Person with whom they have to do; for the Circumstances to which these men stick not to enslave their Consciences; and their Faith being subject to several Changes, their Language must accordingly vary: from whence it happens, that of the same thing they tell one Man, that it is this, and another that it is that, giving it several Forms and Colours; which Men, if they once come to confer Notes, and find out the Cheat, what becomes of this fine Art? To which may be added, that they must of Necessity very often ridiculously trap themselves; for, what Memory can be sufficient to retain so many different Shapes as they have forged upon one and the same Subject? I have known many in my Time, very ambitious of the repute of this fine piece of Discretion; but they do not see, that if there be a Reputation of being wise, there is really no Prudence in it. In plain Truth, Lying is a hateful and an accursed Vice. We are not Men, nor have other Tie upon one another, but our Word. If we did but discover the Horror and ill Consequences of it, we should pursue it with Fire and Sword, and more justly than other Crimes. I see that Parents commonly, and with Indiscretion enough, correct their Children for little innocent Faults, and torment them for wanton childish Tricks, that have neither Impression, nor tend to any Consequence: whereas, in my Opinion, Lying only, and (what is of something a lower Form) Stomach, are the Faults which are to be severely whipped out of them, both in the Infancy and Progress of the Vices, which will otherwise grow up and increase with them; and after a Tongue has once got the Knack of lying, 'tis not to be imagined how impossible almost it is to reclaim it. Whence it comes to pass, that we see some, who are otherwise very honest Men, so subject to this Vice. I have an honest Lad to my Tailor, who I never knew guilty of one Truth, no not when it had been to his Advantage. If Falsehood had, like Truth, but one Face only, we should be upon better Terms; for we should then take the contrary to what the Liar says for certain Truth; but the Reverse of Truth has a hundred thousand Figures, and a Field indefinite without Bound or Limit. The Pythagoreans make Good to be certain and finite, and Evil, infinite and uncertain; there are a thousand ways to miss the White, there is only one to hit it. For my own part, I have this Vice in so great horror, that I am not sure I could prevail with my Conscience to secure myself from the most manifest and extreme Danger, by an impudent and solemn Lye. An ancient Father says, That a Dog we know is better Company than a Man whose Language we do not understand. Ut externus non alieno sit hominis vice, 
Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 7. cap. 1.  As a Foreigner, to one that understands not what he says, cannot be said to supply the Place of a Man, because he can be no Company. And how much less sociable is false Speaking than Silence? King Francis the First bragged, that he had, by this means, non-plused Franciso Taverna, the Ambassador of Francisco Sforza, Duke of Milan, a Man very famous for his Eloquence in those days. This Gentleman had been sent to excuse his Master to his Majesty about a thing of very great Consequence; which was this: King Francis, to maintain evermore some Intelligence in Italy, out of which he had lately been driven, and particularly in the Duchy of Milan, had thought it (to that end) convenient to have evermore a Gentleman on his Behalf to lie Leaguer in the Court of that Duke; an Ambassador in Effect, but in outward Appearance no other than a private Person who pretended to reside there upon the single Account of his own particular Affairs; which was so carried, by reason that the Duke, much more depending upon the Emperor, especially at a time when he was in a Treaty of a Marriage with his Niece, Daughter to the King of Denmark, and since Dowager of Lorraine, could not own any Friendship or Intelligence with us, but very much to his own Prejudice. For this Commission than one Merveille a Milanese Gentleman, and a Equerry to the King, being thought very fit, he was accordingly dispatched thither with private Letters of Credence, his Instructions of Ambassador, and other Letters of Recommendation to the Duke about his own private Concerns, the better to colour the Business; and so long continued in that Court, that the Emperor at last had some Inkling of his real Employment there, and complained of it to the Duke, which was the Occasion of what followed after, as we suppose; which was, that under Pretence of a Murder by him committed, his Trial was in two days dispatched, and his Head in the Night struck off in Prison. Signior Francisco then being upon this Account, came to the Court of France, and, prepared with a long counterfeit Story to excuse a thing of so dangerous Example, (for the King had applied himself to all the Princes of Christendom, as well as to the Duke himself, to demand Satisfaction for this Outrage upon the Person of his Minister) had his Audience at the morning Council; where, after he had for the Support of his Cause, in a long premeditated Oration, laid open several plausible Justifications of the Fact, he concluded, that the Duke his Master had never looked upon this Merveille for other than a private Gentleman, and his own Subject, who was there only in order to his own Business, neither had he ever lived after any other manner; absolutely disowning that he had ever heard he was one of the King's Domestic Servants, or that his Majesty so much as knew him, so far was he from taking him for an Ambassador. When having made an end, and the King pressing him with several Objections and Demands, and sifting him on all hands, graveled him at last, by ask, why then the Execution was performed by Night, and as is were by Stealth? At which the poor confounded Ambassador, the more handsomely to disengage himself, made Answer, That the Duke would have been very loath, out of Respect to his Majesty, that such an Execution should have been performed in the Face of the Sun. Any one may guests if he was not well schooled when he came home, for having so grossly tripped in the Presence of a Prince of so delicate a Nostril as King Francis. Pope Julius the Second, having sent an Ambassador to the King of England, to animate him against King Francis, the Ambassador having had his Audience, and the King, before he would give a positive Answer, insisting upon the Difficulties he found in setting on foot so great a Preparation as would be necessary to attack so potent a King, and urging some Reasons to that Effect, the Ambassador very unseasonably replied, that he had also himself considered the same difficulties, and had represented as much to the Pope. From which Saying of his, so directly opposite to the Thing propounded, and the Business he came about, which was immediately to incite him to War, the King first derived Argument, (which also he afterwards found to be true) that this Ambassador, in his own private Bosom, was a Friend to the French; of which having advertised the Pope, his Estate at his Return home was confiscate, and himself very narrowly escaped the losing of his Head.   

CHAP. X. Of quick or slow Speech.  

Onc ne fut à tous toutes Grace's donnees.   

All Graces by All-liberal Heaven  
Were never yet to all men given.   
AS we see in the Gift of Eloquence, wherein some have such a Facility and Promptness, and that which we call a present Wit, so easy, that they are ever ready upon all Occasions, and never to be surprised: and others more heavy and slow, never venture to utter any thing but what they have long premeditated, and taken great Care and Pains to fit and prepare. Now, as we teach young Ladies those Sports and Exercises which are most proper to set out the Grace and Beauty of those Parts wherein their chiefest Ornament and Perfection lie; so in these two advantages of Eloquence, to which the Lawyers and Preachers of our Age seem principally to pretend. If I were worthy to advise, the slow Speaker, methinks, should be more proper for the Pulpit, and the other for the Bar; and that because the Employment of the first does naturally allow him all the Leisure he can desire to prepare himself, and besides, his Career is performed in an even and unintermitted Line, without stop or interruption; whereas, the Pleader's Business and Interest compels him to enter the Lists upon all Occasions, and the unexpected Objections and Replies of his adverse Party, justle him out of his Course, and put him, upon the Instant, to pump for new and extempore Answers and Defences. Yet, at the Interview betwixt Pope Clement and King Francis at Marcelles, it happened quite contrary, that Monsieur Poyett, a man bred up all his Life at the Bar, and in the highest Repute for Eloquence, having the Charge of making the Harangue to the Pope committed to him, and having so long meditated on it beforehand, as (as it was said) to have brought it ready made along with him from Paris; the very day it was to have been pronounced, the Pope, fearing something might be said that might give Offence to the other Prince's Ambassadors who were there attending on him, sent to acquaint the King with the Argument which he conceived most suiting to the Time and Place, but by chance quite another thing to that Monsieur de Poyett had taken so much Pains about: so that the fine Speech he had prepared, was of no use, and he was upon the Instant to contrive another; which finding himself unable to do, Cardinal Bellay was constrained to perform that Office. The Pleader's Part is, doubtless, much harder than that of the Preacher; and yet, in my Opinion, we see more passable Lawyers than Preachers. It should seem that the nature of Wit is, to have its operation prompt and sudden, and that of Judgement, to have it more deliberate, and more slow: but he who remains totally silent for want of leisure to prepare himself to speak well, and he also whom leisure does no ways benefit to better speaking, are equally unhappy. 'Tis said of Severus, that he spoke best extempore, 
Severus Cassius.  that he stood more obliged to Fortune, than his own Diligence, that it was an advantage to him to be interrupted in speaking, and that his Adversaries were afraid to nettle him, lest his Anger should redouble his Eloquence. I know experimentally, a Disposition so impatient of a tedious and elaborate Premeditation, that if it do not go frankly and gaily to work, can perform nothing to purpose. We say of some Compositions, that they stink of Oil, and smell of the Lamp, by reason of a certain rough harshness that the laborious handling imprints upon those where great Force has been employed: but besides this, the solicitude of doing well, and a certain striving and contending of a mind too far strained, and over-bent upon its Undertaking, breaks, and hinders itself, like Water, that by force of its own pressing violence and abundance, cannot find a ready issue through the neck of a Bottle, or a narrow Sluice. In this condition of Nature, of which I was now speaking, there is this also, that it would not be disordered, and stimulated with such a Passion as the Fury of Cassius; for such a Motion would be too violent and rude: it would not be justled, but solicited, and would be roused and heated by unexpected, sudden, and accidental Occasions. If it be left to itself, it flags and languishes, Agitation only gives it grace and vigour. I am always worst in my own possession, and when wholly at my own dispose, Accident has more title to any thing that comes from me, than I; Occasion, Company, and even the very rising and falling of my own Voice, extract more from my Fancy, than I can find when I examine and employ it by myself; by which means, the things I say are better than those I write, if either were to be preferred, where neither are worth any thing. This also befalls me, that I am at a loss, when I seek, and light upon things more by chance, than by any inquisition of my own Judgement. I perhaps sometimes hit upon something when I write that seems quaint and sprightly to me, but will appear dull and heavy to another. But let us leave this Subject. Every one talks thus of himself according to his Talon. For my part, I am already so lost in it, that I know not what I was about to say, and in such cases, a stranger often finds it out before me. If I should always carry my Razor about me, to use so oft as this inconvenience befalls me, I should make clean work: but some Occurrence or other, may at some other time, lay it as visible to me as the Light, and make me wonder what I should stick at.   

CHAP. XI. Of Prognostications.  
FOr what concerns Oracles, it is certain, that a good while before the coming of our Saviour Christ, they began to lose their Credit; for we see that Cicero is troubled to find out the cause of their decay, in these words; 
Cic. de Divin. l. 2.  Curio isto modo jam Oracula Delphis non eduntur, non modo nostra aetate, sed jam diu, ut nihil possit esse contemptius? What should be the reason that the Oracles at Delphos are so uttered, not only in this Age of ours, but moreover a great while ago, that nothing can be more contemptible? But as to the other Prognostics, calculated from the Anatomy of Beasts at Sacrifices, (which Plato does in part attribute to the natural Constitution of the Intestines of the Beasts themselves) the scraping of Poultry, the flights of Birds: Aves quasdam rerum augurandarum causa natus esse putamus; 
Cic. de Natura Deor. l. 2.  We think some sorts of Birds to be purposely created upon the account of Augury, Claps of Thunder the winding of Rivers, 
Ibidem.  Multa cernunt Auruspices, multa Augurs provident, multa Oraculis declarantur, multa Vaticinationibus, multa Somniis, multa Portentis, Soothsayers and Augurs conjecture and foresee many things, and many things are foretold in Oracles, Prophecies, Dreams, and Portents; and others of the like Nature, upon which Antiquity founded most of their public and private Erterprises, Christian Religion has totally abolished. And although there yet remain amongst us some Practices of Divination from the Stars, from Spirits, from the Shapes and Complexions of men, for Dreams and the like, (a notable Example of the wild curiosity of our Nature to grasp at and anticipate future things, as if we had not enough to do to digest the present) 

— cur hanc tibi rector Olympi 
Lucan. l. 2▪   
Solicitis visum mortalibus addere curam,  
Noscant venturos ut dira per omnia clades?  
Sat subitum quodcunque paras, sit coeca futuri  
Mens hominum fati, liceat sperare timenti.   

Why, thou great Ruler of Olympus, why  
Hast thou to timorous Mortality  
Added this Care, that men should be so wise  
To know, by Omens, future Miseries?  
Free us from this unnecessary care,  
Unlooked for send the Ills thou dost prepare;  
Let humane Minds to future things be blind,  
That Hope, amidst our Fears, some place may find.   (Ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit: Miserum est enim nihil proficientem angi: It is not indeed convenient to know what shall come to pass; for it is a miserable thing to be vexed and tormented to no purpose.) Yet are they of much less Authority now than heretofore. Which makes the Example of Francis Marquis of Saluzzo so much more remarkable; who being Lieutenant to King Francis the First, in his Army beyond the Mountains, infinitely favoured and esteemed in our Court, and obliged to the King's Bounty for the Marquizate itself, which had been forfeited by his Brother; and as to the rest, having no manner of Provocation given him to do it, and even his own Affection opposing any such Disloyalty; suffered himself to be so terrified (as it was confidently reported) with the fine Prognostics that were spread abroad in favour of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, and to our Disadvantage, (especially in Italy, where these foolish Prophecies were so far believed, that great Sums of Money were laid, and others ventured out upon return of greater when they came to pass, so certain they made themselves of our Ruin) that having bewailed to those of his Acquaintance who were most intimate with him, the Mischiefs that he saw would inevitably fall upon the Crown of France, and the Friends he had in that Court, he unhandsomely revolted, and turned to the other side; but to his own Misfortune nevertheless, what Constellation soever governed at that time. But he carried himself in this Affair like a Man agitated with divers Passions; for having both Towns and Forces in his hands, the Enemy's Army under Antonio de Leva close by him, and we not at all suspecting his Design, it had been in his Power to have done more than he did; for we lost no Men by this Infidelity of his, nor any Town, but Fossan only, and that after a long Siege, and a brave Defence. 

Prudens futuri temporis exitum 
Hor. l. 3. Ode 29.   
Caliginosa nocte premit Deus,  
Ridetque si mortalis ultra  
Fas trepidat.   

Th' eternal Mover has in Shades of Night  
Future Events concealed from humane sight,  
And laughs when he does see the timorous Ass  
Tremble at what shall never come to pass.   

— ille potens sui 
Ib. Ode 41▪   
Laetusque deget, cui licet in diem  
Dixisse vixi cras vel atra  
Nube Polum pater occupato,  
Vel sole puro.   

He free and merrily may live, can say,  
As the day passes I have lived to day;  
And for to morrow little does take Care,  
Let the World's Ruler make it foul or fair.   


Id. l. 2. Ode 16.  Laetus in praesens animus quod ultra est  
Oderit curare:   

A mind that's cheerful in its present State,  
To think of any thing beyond will hate.   And those who take this Sentence in a contrary Sense, 
Cic. de Divin. l. 2.  interpret it amiss. Ista sic reciprocantur, ut & si Divinatio sit, Dii sint, & si Dii sint, sit Divinatio, These things have that mutual Relation to one another, that if there be such a thing as Divination, there must be Deities; and if Deities, Divination: much more wisely Pacuvius; 


Id. ex Pacuvio.  Nam istis qui linguam avium intelligunt,  
Plusque ex alieno jecore sapiunt, quam ex suo,  
Magis audiendum, quam auscultandum censeo.   

Who the Birds Language understand, and who  
More from Brutus' Livers than their own do know,  
Are rather to be heard than harkened to.    
The so celebrated Art of Divination amongst the Tuscans, took its Beginning thus: A Labourer striking deep with his Coulter into the Earth, saw the Demy-God 
* Indiginae dixere Tagem, qui primus Hetruscam. Edocuit gentem casus aperire futuros. Ovid. Meta. l. 15.  Tages to ascend with an Infantine Aspect, but endued with a mature and Senile Wisdom. Upon the Rumour of which, all the People ran to see the sight, by whom his Words and Science, containing the Principles and means to attain to this Art, were recorded, and kept for many Ages. A Birth suitable to its Progress! I for my part should sooner regulate my Affairs by the chance of a Die, than by such idle and vain Dreams. And indeed, in all Republics, a good share of the Government has ever been referred to chance. Plato, in the civil Regiment that he models according to his own Fancy, leaves the Decision of several things of very great Importance wholly to it, and will, amongst other things, that such Marriages as he reputes legitimate and good, be appointed by Lot, and attributing so great Virtue, and adding so great a Privilege to this accidental choice, as to ordain the Children begot in such Wedlock to be brought up in the Country, and those begot in any other to be thrust out as spurious and base; yet so, that if any of those Exiles, notwithstanding, should peradventure in growing up give any early hopes of future Virtue, they were in a Capacity of being recalled, as those also who had been retained were of being exiled in case they gave little Expectation of themselves in their greener Years. I see some who are mightily given to Study, poor and comment upon their Almanacs, and produce them for Authority when any thing has fallen out pat: though it is hardly possible, but that these wellwishers to the Mathematics in saying so much, must sometimes stumble upon some Truths amongst an infinite Number of Lie. Quis est enim qui totum diem jaculans non aliquando contineet? 
Adagium Cic. de Divin.  For who shoots all day at Butts that does not sometimes hit the White? I think never the better of them for some accidental Hits. There would be more certainty in it if there were a Rule and a Truth of always lying. Besides, no Body records their Flim-flams and false Prognostics, forasmuch as they are infinite and common; but if they chop upon one Truth, that carries a mighty Report, as being rare, incredible, and prodigious. So Diogenes, surnamed the Atheist, answered him in Samothrace, who showing him in the Temple the several Offerings and Stories, in Painting, of those who had escaped Shipwreck, said to him, Look you (said he) you who think the Gods have no care of humane things, what do you say by so many Persons preserved from Death by their especial Favour? Why, I say, (answered he) that their Pictures are not here who were cast away, which were by much the greater number. Cicero observes, that of all the Philosophers who have acknowledged a Deity, Xenophanes only has endeavoured to eradicate all manner of Divination: which makes it the less a Wonder, if we have sometimes seen some of our Princes, to their own cost, rely too much upon these Fopperies. I wish I had given any thing, that I had with my own Eyes seen those two great Rarities, the Book of Joachim the Portuguese Abbot, which foretold all the future Popes, their Names, and Figures; and that of the Emperor Leo, which prophesied of all the Emperors and Patriarches of Greece. This I have been an Eye-witness of, that in public Confusions, men astonished at their Fortune, have abandoned their own Reason superstitiously to seek out in the Stars the ancient Causes and Menaces of their present mishaps, and in my time have been so strangely successful in it, as to make men believe, that this Study, being proper to fix and settle piercing and volatile Wits, those who have been any thing versed in this knack of unfolding and untying Riddles, are capable in any sort of Writing, to find out what they desire. But above all, that which gives them the greatest Room to play in, is the obscure, ambiguous, and fantastic Gibberish of their prophetic Canting, where their Authors deliver nothing of clear Sense, but shrowded all in Riddle, to the end that Posterity may interpret, and apply it according to their own Fancy. Socrates' his Daemon, or Familiar, might perhaps be no other but a certain Impulsion of the Will, which obtruded itself upon him without the advice or consent of his Judgement; and in a Soul so enlightened as his was, and so prepared by a continual exercise of Wisdom and Virtue, 'tis to be supposed, those Inclinations of his, though sudden and undigested, were ever very important, and worthy to be followed. Every one finds in himself some Image of such Agitations, of a prompt, vehement, and foetuitous Opinion. 'Tis I that am to allow them some Authority, who attribute so little to our own Prudence, and who also myself have had some, weak in Reason, but violent in Persuasion and Dissuasion, (which were most frequent with Socrates) by which I have suffered myself to be carried away so foetunately, and so much to my own Advantage, that they might have been judged to have had something in them of a Divine Inspiration.   

CHAP. XII. Of Constancy.  
THE Law of Resolution and Constancy does not imply, that we ought not, as much as in us lies, to decline, and to secure ourselves from the Mischiefs and Inconveniencies that threaten us; nor consequently, that we shall not fear lest they should surprise us: on the contrary, all decent and honest ways and means of securing ourselves from Harms, are not only permitted, but moreover commendable, and the Business of Constancy chiefly is, bravely to stand to, and stoutly to suffer those Inconveniences which are not otherwise possibly to be avoided. There is no motion of Body, nor any guard in the handling of Arms, how irregular or ungraceful soever, that we dislike or condemn, if they serve to deceive or to defend the Blow that is made against us; insomuch, that several very warlike Nations have made use of a retiring and flying away of Fight, as a thing of singular Advantage, and by so doing have made their Backs more dangerous than their Faces to their Enemies. Of which kind of Fight, the Turks yet retain something in their Practice of Arms to this day; and Socrates, in Plato, laughs at Laches, who had defined Fortitude to be a standing firm in their Ranks against the Enemy: What (says he) would it then be a reputed Cowardice to overcome them by giving Ground? urging at the same time the Authority of Homer, who commends Aeneas for his Skill in running away. And whereas Laches, considering better on't, justifies his first Argument upon the Practice of the Scythians, and in general all Cavalry whatever, he again attacks him with the Example of the Lacedaemonian Foot, (a Nation of all other the most obstinate in maintaining their Ground) who in all the Battle of Platea, not being able to break into the Persian Phalanx, unbethought themselves to disperse and retire, that by the Enemies supposing they fled, they might break, and disunite that vast Body of Men in the Pursuit, and by that Stratagem obtained the Victory. As for the Scythians, 'tis said of them▪ that when Darius went his Expedition to subdue them, he sent, by an Herald, highly to reproach their King, That he always retired before him, and declined a Battle; to which Indathyrsez (for that was his Name) returned Answer, That it was not for fear of him, or of any Man living, that he did so, but that it was the way of Marching in practice with his Nation, who had neither tilled Fields, Cities, nor Houses to defend, or to fear the Enemy should make any Advantage of: but that if he had such a Stomach to fight, let him but come to view their ancient place of Sepulture, and there he should have his Fill. Nevertheless, as to what concerns Cannon Shot, when a Body of Men are drawn up in the Face of a Train of Artillery, as the Occasion of War does often require, 'tis unhandsome to quit their Post to avoid the Danger, and a foolish thing to boot, forasmuch as by reason of its Violence and Swiftness we account it inevitable, and many a one, by ducking, stepping aside, and such other motions of Fear, has been sufficiently laughed at by his Companions. And yet in the Expedition that the Emperor Charles the Fifth made into Provence, the Marquis de Guast going to discover the City of Arles, and venturing to advance out of the Blind of a Windmill, under favour of which he had made his Approach, was perceived by the Signior de Bonneval and the Seneschal of Agenois, who were walking upon the Theatre Aux arenes; who having showed him to the Sieur de Villiers, 
A Theatre where public Shows of Riding, Fencing, etc. were exhibited.  Commissary of the Artillery, he traversed a Culverin so admirable well, and levelled it so exactly right against him, that had not the Marquis, seeing Fire given to it, slipped aside, it was certainly concluded, the Shot had taken him full in the Body. And in like manner, some Years before, Lorenzo de Medici, Duke of Urbin, and Father to the Queen-Mother of France, laying Siege to Mondolpho, a Place in the Territories of the Vicariat in Italy, seeing the Cannoneer give Fire to a Piece that pointed directly against him, it was well for him that he ducked, for otherwise, the Shot, that only razed the top of his Head, had doubtless hit him full in the Breast. To say truth, I do not think that these Evasions are performed upon the account of Judgement; for how is any Man living able to judge of high or low Aim on so sudden an Occasion? And it is much more easy to believe, that Fortune favoured their Apprehension, and that it might be a means at another time, as well to make them step into the danger, as to teach them to avoid it. For my own part, I confess, I cannot forbear starting when the Rattle of a Harquebus thunders in my Ears on a sudden, and in a Place where I am not to expect it, which I have also observed in others, braver Fellows than I; neither do the Stoics pretend, that the Soul of their Philosopher should be proof against the first Visions and Fantasies that surprise him; but as a natural Subject, consent that he should tremble at the terrible noise of Thunder, or the sudden Clatter of some falling Ruin, and be affrighted even to Paleness and Convulsion. And so in other Passions, provided a Man's Judgement remain sound and entire, and that the Scite of his Reason suffers no Concussion nor Alteration, and that he yields no consent to his Fright and Discomposure. To him who is not a Philosopher, a Fright is the same in the first part of it, but quite another thing in the second; for the Impression of Passions does not remain only superficially in him, but penetrates further, even to the very Seat of Reason, and so, as to infect and to corrupt it. He judges according to his Fear, and confirms his Behaviour to it. But in this Verse you may see the true State of the wise Stoic learnedly and plainly expressed: 

Mens immota manet, lachrymae volvuntur inanes. 
Virg. Aen. l. 2.    

The Eye perhaps frail, fruitless showers reins,  
Whilst yet the Mind firm and unshook remains.    
The wise Peripatetic is not himself totally free from perturbations of Mind, but he moderates them by his Wisdom.   

CHAP. XIII. The Ceremony of the Interview of Princes.  
THere is no Subject so frivolous, that does not merit a Place in this Rhapsody. According to the common Rule of Civility, it would be a kind of an Affront to an Equal, and much more to a Superior, to fail of being at home, when he has given you notice he will come to visit you. Nay, Queen Margaret of Navarr further adds, that it would be a Rudeness in a Gentleman to go out to meet any that is coming to see him, let him be of what condition soever; and that it is more respective, and more civil to stay at home to receive him, if only upon the account of missing of him by the way, and that is enough to receive him at the door, and to wait upon him to his Chamber. For my part, who as much as I can endeavour to reduce the Ceremonies of my House, I very often forget both the one and the other of these vain Offices, and peradventure some one may take Offence at it; if he do, I am sorry, but I cannot find in my heart to help it; it is much better to offend him once, than myself every day, for it would be a perpetual slavery; and to what end do we avoid the servile attendance of Courts, if we bring the same, or a greater trouble, home to our own private houses? It is also a common Rule in all Assemblies, that those of less quality are to be first upon the Place, by reason that it is a State more due to the better Sort to make others wait and expect them. Nevertheless, at the Interview betwixt Pope Clement and King Francis at Marselles, the King, after he had in his own Person taken order in the necessary Preparations for his Reception and Entertainment, withdrew out of the Town, and gave the Pope two or three day's respite for his Entry, and wherein to repose and refresh himself before he came to him. And in like manner, at the Assignation of the Pope and the Emperor at Bolognia, the Emperor gave the Pope leave to come thither first, and came himself after; for which, the reason then given was this; that at all the Interviews of such Princes, the greater ought to be first at the appointed Place, especially before the other, in whose Territories the Interview is appointed to be, intimating thereby a kind of deference to the other, it appearing proper for the less to seek out, and to apply themselves to the greater, and not the greater to them. Not every Country only, but every City, and so much as every Society, have their particular Forms of Civility. There was care enough taken in my Education, and I have lived in good Company enough to know the Formalities of our own Nation, and am able to give Lesson in it; I love also to follow them, but not to be so servilely tied to their observation, that my whole Life should be enslaved to Ceremony; of which there are some, that provided a man omits them out of Discretion, and not for want of Breeding, it will be every whit as handsome. I have seen some People rude, by being over-civil, and troublesome in their Courtesy: though, these Excesses excepted, the knowledge of Courtesy and good Manners is a very necessary study. It is, like Grace and Beauty, that which begets liking and an inclination to love one another at the first sight, and in the beginning of an Acquaintance and Familiarity; and consequently, that which first opens the door, and intromits us to Better ourselves by the Example of others, if there be any thing in their Society worth taking notice of.   

CHAP. XIV. That Men are justly punished for being obstinate in the Defence of a Fort that is not in reason to be defended.  
VAlour has its bounds, as well as other Virtues, which once transgressed, the next step is into the Territories of Vice, so that by having too large a Proportion of this Heroic Virtue, unless a man be very perfect in its limits, which upon the Confines are very hard to discern, he may very easily unawares run into Temerity, Obstinacy, and Folly. From this consideration it is, that we have derived the Custom in times of War, to punish even with Death those who are obstinate to defend a Place that is not tenable by the Rules of War. In which case, if there were not some Examples made, men would be so confident upon the hopes of Impunity, that not a Hen-roost but would resist, and stop a Royal Army. The Constable Monsieur de Montmorency, having at the Siege of Pavia been ordered to pass the Tesine, and to take up his Quarters in the Fauxbourg St. Antony, being hindered so to do by a Tower that was at the end of the Bridge, which was so impudent as to endure a Battery, hanged every man he found within it for their labour. And again since, accompanying the Dauphin in his Expedition beyond the Alps, and taking the Castle of Villain by Assault, and all within it being put to the Sword, the Governor and his Ensign only excepted, he caused them both to be trussed up for the same reason; as also did Captain Martin du Bellay, than Governor of Turin, the Governor of St. Bony, in the same Country, all his People being cut in pieces at the taking of the Place. But forasmuch as the Strength or Weakness of a Fortress is always measured by the Estimate and Counterpoise of the Forces that attack it (for a Man might reasonably enough despise two Culverines', that would be a Madman to abide a Battery of thirty pieces of Cannon) where also the Greatness of the Prince who is Master of the Field, his Reputation, and the Respect that is due unto him, is always put into the Balance, 'tis dangerous to affront such an Enemy: and besides, by compelling him to force you, you possess him with so great an Opinion of himself and his Power, that thinking it unreasonable any Place should dare to shut their Gates against his victorious Army, he puts all to the Sword, where he meets with any Opposition, whilst his Fortune continues; as is very plain in the fierce and arrogant Forms of summoning Towns, and denouncing War, savouring so much of Barbarian Pride and Insolence in use amongst the Oriental Princes, and which their Successors to this day do yet retain and practise. And even in that remote Part of the World where the Portuguese subdued the Indians, they found some States where it was an universal and inviolable Law amongst them, that every Enemy, overcome by the King in Person, or by his representative Lieutenant, was out of Composition both of Ransom and Mercy. So that above all things, a Man should take heed of falling into the hands of a Judge who is an Enemy and victorious.   

CHAP. XV. Of the Punishment of Cowardice.  
I Once heard of a Prince, and a great Captain, having a Narration given him as he sat at Table of the Proceeding against Monsieur de Vervius, who was sentenced to Death for having surrendered Bullen to the English, openly maintained, that a Soldier could not justly be put to Death for his want of Courage. And, in truth, a Man should make a great Difference betwixt Faults that merely proceed from Infirmity, and those that are visibly the Effects of Treachery and Malice: for in the last they will fully act against the Rules of Reason, that Nature has imprinted in us; whereas in the former it seems as if we might produce the same Nature, who left us in such a state of Imperfection, and defect of Courage for our justification. Insomuch, that many have thought we are not justly questionable for any thing but what we commit against the Light of our own Conscience. And it is partly upon this Rule, that those ground their Opinion, who disapprove of Capital and Sanguinary Punishments inflicted upon Heretics and Miscreants; and theirs also, who hold that an Advocate or a Judge are not accountable for having ignorantly failed in their Administration. But as to Cowardice, it is most certain, that the most usual way of chastising that is by Ignominy and Disgrace; and it is supposed that this Practice was first brought into use by the Legislator Cherondas; and that before his time the Laws of Greece punished those with Death who fled from a Battle; whereas he ordained only that they should be three days exposed in the public Place dressed in women's Attire, hoping yet for some Service from them, having awaked their Courage by this open Shame; Suffundere malis hominis sanguinem quam effundere, choosing rather to bring the Blood into their Cheeks than to let it out of their Bodies. It appears also, that the Roman Laws did anciently punish those with Death who had run away: for Ammianus Marcellinus says, that the Emperor Julian commanded ten of his Soldiers, who had turned their Backs in an Encounter against the Parthians, to be first degraded, and afterwards put to death, according (says he) to the ancient Laws, and yet elsewhere, for the like Offence, he only condemns others to remain amongst the Prisoners under the Baggage Ensign. The punishment the People of Rome inflicted upon those who fled from the Battle of Cannae, and those who run away with Cneius Fulvius, at his Defeat, did not extend to death. And yet methinks Men should consider what they do in such Cases, lest disgrace should make such Delinquents desperate, and not only faint Friends, but implacable and mortal Enemies. Of late memory, the Seigneur de Franget, Lieutenant to the Marshal de Chattilion's Company, having by the Marshal de Chabanes been put in Governor of Fontarabie, in the Place of Monsieur de Lude, and having surrendered it to the Spaniard, he was for that condemned to be degraded from all Nobility, and both himself and his Posterity declared ignoble, taxable, and for ever incapable of bearing Arms; which severe Sentence was afterwards accordingly executed at Lions: and since that, all the Gentlemen who were in Guise when Count Nassau entered into it underwent the same Punishment, as several others have done since for the like Offence. Notwithstanding, in case of such a manifest Ignorance or Cowardice as exceeds all other ordinary Example, 'tis but reason to take it for a sufficient Proof of Treachery and Malice, and for such it ought to be censured and punished.   

CHAP. XVI. A Proceeding of some Ambassadors.  
I Observe in all my Travels this Custom, ever to learn something from the Information of those with whom I confer (which is the best School of all other) and to put my Company upon those Subjects they are the best able to speak of: 

Basti all nocchiero ragionar de venti,  
All bifolco de j Torj, 
Ariosto. Navita de ventis, de tauris narrat aratra, Ememorat miles vulnera, pastor oves propert▪  & le sue Piaghe  
Contj'l guerrier, conti'l Pastor glj armenti.   

The Seamen best can reason of the Winds,  
Of Oxen none so well as labouring Hinds;  
The huffing Soldier best of Wounds and Knocks,  
And gentler Shepherds of their harmless Flocks.   For it often falls out, that, on the contrary, every one will rather choose to be prating of another Man's Province than his own, thinking it so much new Reputation acquired; witness the Jeer Archidamus put upon Pariander, That he had quitted the Glory of being an excellent Physician to gain the Repute of a very bad Poet. And do but observe how large and ample Caesar is to make us understand his Invention of building Bridges, and contriving Engines of War, and how succinct and reserved in Comparison, where he speaks of the Offices of his Profession, his own Valour, and military Conduct. His Exploits sufficiently prove him a great Captain, and that he knew well enough; but he would be thought a good Engineer to boot; a quality something rare, and not much to be expected in him. The elder Dionysius was a very great Captain, as it befitted his Fortune he should be; but he took very great Pains to get a particular Reputation by Poetry, and yet he was never cut out for a Poet. A Gentleman of the long Robe being not long since brought to see a Study furnished with all sorts of Books, both of his own and all other Faculties, took no occasion at all to entertain himself with any of them, but fell very rudely and impertinently to descant upon a Barricado placed before the Study-door, a thing that a hundred Captains and common Soldiers see every day without taking any notice or offence.  

Optat ephippia bos piger, optat arare caballus.   

The lazy Ox would Saddle have and Bit,  
The Steed a Yoke, neither for either fit.   
By this course a Man shall never improve himself, nor arrive at any Perfection in any thing. He must therefore make it his Business, always to put the Architect, the Painter, the Statuary, as also every Mechanic Artisan, upon discourse of their own Capacities. And to this purpose, in reading Histories, which is every Body's Subject, I use to consider what kind of Men are the Authors; which, if Persons that profess nothing but mere Learning, I, in and from them principally observe and learn the Style and Language; if Physicians, I upon that account the rather incline to credit what they report of the Temperature of the Air, of the Health and Complexions of Princes, of Wounds, and Diseases; if Lawyers, we are from them to take notice of the Controversies of Right and Title, the Establishment of Laws and Civil Government, and the like; if Divines, the Affairs of the Church, Ecclesiastical Censures, Marriages and Dispensations; if Courtiers, Manners and Ceremonies; if Soldiers, the things that properly belong to their Trade, and principally the Accounts of such Actions and Erterprises wherein they were personally engaged; and if Ambassadors, we are to observe their Negotiations, Intelligences, and Practices, and the Manner how they are to be carried on. And this is the reason why (which perhaps I should have lightly passed over in another) I dwelled upon and maturely considered one Passage in the History writ by Monsieur de Langey (a Man of very great Judgement in things of that nature) which was, after having given a Narrative of the fine Oration Charles the Fifth had made in the Consistory at Rome, and in the Presence of the Bishop of Mascon and Monsieur de Velley our Ambassadors there, wherein he had mixed several tart and injurious Expressions to the Dishonour of our Nation; and amongst the rest, That if his Captains and Soldiers were not Men of another kind of Fidelity, Resolution, and sufficiency in the Knowledge of Arms, than those of the King, he would immediately go with a Rope about his Neck and sue to him for Mercy, (and it should seem the Emperor had really this, or a very little better Opinion of our military Men, for he afterward, twice or thrice in his Life, said the very same thing) as also, that he challenged the King to fight him in his Shirt with Rapier and Poigniard in a Boat: the said Sieur de Langey pursuing his History, adds, that the forenamed Ambassadors, sending a Dispatch to the King of these things, concealed the greatest part, and particularly the two last Passages. At which I could not but wonder, that it should be in the Power of an Ambassador to dispense with any thing which he ought to signify to his Master, especially of so great Importance as this, coming from the Mouth of such a Person, and spoke in so great an Assembly; and should rather conceive it had been the Servant's Duty faithfully to have represented to him the whole and naked Truth as it passed, to the end, that the Liberty of disposing, judging, and concluding, might absolutely have remained in him: for either to conceal, or to disguise the Truth for fear he should take it otherwise than he ought to do, and lest it should prompt him to some extravagant Resolution, and in the mean time to leave him ignorant of his Affairs, should seem, methinks, rather to belong to him who is to give the Law, than to him who is only to receive it; to him who is in supreme Command, and best can judge of his own Interests, and not to him who ought to look upon himself as inferior in Authority, so also in Prudence and good Counsel: but let it be how it will, I for my Part would be loath to be so served in my little Concerns. We do so willingly slip the Collar of Command upon any Pretence whatever, and are so ready to usurp upon Dominion, and every one does so naturally aspire to Liberty and Power, that no Utility whatever derived from the Wit or Valour of those he does employ, aught to be so dear to a Superior, as a downright and sincere Obedience. To obey more upon the Account of Understanding than of Subjection, is to corrupt the Office, and to subvert the Power of Command; insomuch that P. Crassus, the same whom the Romans reputed five times happy, at the time when he was Consul in Asia, having sent to a Greek Engineer to cause the greater of two Masts of Ships that he had taken notice of at Athens, to be brought to him, to be employed about some Engine of Battery he had a design to make; the other, presuming upon his own Science, and sufficiency in those Affairs, thought fit to do otherwise than directed, and to bring the less; which also, according to the Rules of Art, was really more proper for the use to which it was designed: but Crassus, though he gave ear to his Reasons with great Patience, would not however take them, how sound or convincing soever, for current Pay, but yet remained so highly offended at his Disobedience, that he caused him to be sufficiently whipped for his Pains, valuing the Interest of Discipline much more than of the thing. Notwithstanding, we may on the other side consider, that so precise and implicit an Obedience as this, is only due to positive and limited Commands. The Employment of an Ambassador is never so confined; several things in the management of Affairs, and in the various and unforeseen Occurrences and Accidents that may fall out in the Management of a Negotiation of this nature, being wholly referred to the absolute Sovereignty of their own Conduct: neither do they simply execute only, but also to their own Discretion and Wisdom form and model their Master's Pleasure; and I have in my time known Men of Command who have been checked for having rather obeyed the express Words of the King's Letters, than the necessity of the Affairs they had in hand. Men of Understanding do yet to this day condemn the Custom of the Kings of Persia, to give their Lieutenants and Agents so little Rein, that upon the least arising Difficulties they must evermore have Recourse to their further Commands; this delay in so vast an extent of Dominion having often very much prejudiced their Affairs. And Crassus, writing to a man whose Profession it was best to understand those things, and pre-acquainting him to what use this Mast was designed, did he not seem to consult his Advice, and in a manner invite him to interpose his better Judgement?   

CHAP. XVII. Of Fear.  

Obstupui, 
Virg. Aen. l. 2.  steteruntque comae & vox faucibus haesit.   

I was amazed, struck Speechless, and my Hair  
On end upon my Head did wildly stare.   
I Am not so good a Naturalist as to discern by what secret Springs Fear has its motion in us; but I am wise enough to know, that it is a strong Passion, and such a one, that the Physicians say there is no other whatever that sooner disthrones our Judgement from its proper Seat; which is so true, that I myself have seen very many become frantic through Fear; and even in those of the best settled Temper, it is most certain, that it begets a terrible Astonishment and Confusion during the Fit. I omit the Vulgar sort, to whom it one while represents their Great-Grandsires, risen out of their Graves in their Shrowds, another while Hobgoblins, Spectres, and Chimaeras: but even amongst Soldiers (a sort of men over whom, of all others, it ought to have the least Power) how often has it converted Flocks of Sheep into armed Squadrons, Reeds and Bulrushes into Pikes and Lances, Friends into Enemies, and the French White into the Red Crosses of Spain! When Monsieur de Bourbon took the City of Rome, an Ensign who was upon the Guard at the Bourg St. Pierre, was seized with such a Fright upon the first Alarm, that he threw himself out at a Breach with his Colours upon his Shoulder, and ran directly upon the Enemy, thinking he had retreated toward the inward Defences of the City, and with much ado, seeing Monsieur de Bourbon's People, who thought it had been a Sally upon them, draw up to receive him, at last came to himself, and saw his Error; and then facing about, he retreated full speed through the same Breach by which he had gone out; but not till he had first blindly advanced above three hundred Paces into the open Field. It did not however fall out so well with Captain Julius his Ensign at the time when St. Paul was taken from us by the Count de Bures and Monsieur du Reu, for he, being so astonished with Fear, as to throw himself and his Fellows out at a Skyt-gate, was immediately cut to pieces by the Enemy; and in the same Siege it was a very memorable Fear, that so seized, contracted, and froze up the Heart of a young Gentleman, that he sunk down stone dead in the Breach, without any manner of Wound or Hunt at all. The like Madness does sometimes push on a whole Multitude; for in one of the Encounters that Germanicus had with the Germans, two great Parties were so amazed with Fear, that they ran two opposite ways, the one and the other to the same place, from which either of them had fled before. Sometimes it adds Wings to the Heels, as in the two first, and sometimes nails them to the Ground, and fetters them from moving; as we read of the Emperor Theophilus, who, in a Battle he lost against the Agarens, was so astonished and stupefied, that he had no Power to fly; adeo pavor etiam auxilia formidat, 
Quint. Curt. l. 3.  so much does Fear dread even the means of Safety; till such time as Manuel, one of the principal Commanders of his Army, having jogged and shaked him so as to rouse him out of his Trance, said to him, Sir, if you will not follow me, I will kill you: for it is better you should lose your Life, than, by being taken, to lose your Empire. But Fear does then manifest its utmost Power and Effect, when it throws us upon a valiant Despair, having before deprived us of all sense both of Duty and Honour. In the first pitched Battle the Romans lost against Hannibal, under the Consul Sempronius, a Body of ten thousand Foot, that had taken a Fright, seeing no other Escape for their Cowardice, went, and threw themselves headlong upon the great Battalion of the Enemies, which also with wonderful force and fury they charged thorough and thorough, and routed with a very great slaughter of the Carthaginians, by that means purchasing an ignominious flight at the same price they might have done a glorious Victory. The thing in the World I am most afraid of is Fear, and with good reason, that Passion alone, in the trouble of it, exceeding all other Accidents. What Affliction could be greater or more just than that of Pompey's Followers and Friends, who, in his Ship, were Spectators of that horrid and inhuman murder? Yet so it was, that the Fear of the Egyptian Vessels they saw coming to board them, possessed them with so great a Fear, that it is observed they thought of nothing, but calling upon the Mariners to make haste, and by force of Oars to escape away, till being arrived at Tyre, and delivered from the apprehension of further danger, they then had leisure to turn their thoughts to the loss of their Captain, and to give vent to those tears and lamentations that the other more prevalent Passion had till then suspended.  

Tum pavor sapientiam omnem mihi ex animo expectorat.   

My Mind with great and sudden fear oppressed,  
Was, for the time, of Judgement dispossessed.   
Such as have been well banged in some Skirmish, may yet, all wounded and bloody as they are, be brought on again the next day to charge: but such as have once conceived a good sound Fear of the Enemy, will never be made so much as to look him in the Face. Such as are in immediate Fear of losing their Estates, of Banishment, or of Slavery, live in perpetual Anguish, and lose all Appetite and Repose; whereas such as are actually poor, Slaves and Exiles, ofttimes live as merrily as Men in a better Condition: and so many People, who, impatient of the perpetual Alarms of Fear, have hanged and drowned themselves, give us sufficiently to understand, that it is more importunate and insupportable than Death itself. The Greeks acknowledge another kind of Fear exceeding any we have spoke of yet, a Passion that surprises us without any visible Cause, by an impulse from Heaven; so that whole Armies and Nations have been struck with it. Such a one was that, which brought so wonderful a Desolation upon Carthage, where nothing was to be heard but Voices, and Outcries of Fear, where the Inhabitants were seen to sally out of their Houses as to an Alarm, and there to charge, wound, and kill one another, as if they had been Enemies come to surprise their City. All things were in strange Disorder and Fury; till with Prayers and Sacrifices they had appeased their Gods: and this is that they call a Punic Terror.   

CHAP. XVIII. That Men are not to judge of our Happiness till after Death.  

— scilicet ultima semper  

Ovid. Met. l. 3.  Expectanda dies homini est, divique beatus,  
Ante obitum nemo supremaque funera debet.   

Mens last days still to be expected are,  
ere we of them our Judgements do declare;  
Nor can't of any one be rightly said,  
That he is happy, till he first be dead.   
EVery one is acquainted with the Story of King Croesus to this purpose, who being taken Prisoner by Cyrus, and by him condemned to die, as he was going to Execution, cried out, O Solon, Solon! which being presently reported to Cyrus, and he sending to inquire of him what it meant, Croesus gave him to understand, that he now found the Advertisement Solon had formerly given him true to his Cost, which was, That men, however Fortune may smile upon them, could never be said to be happy, till they had been seen to pass over the last day of their Lives, by reason of the uncertainty and mutability of Humane things, which upon very light and trivial occasions, are subject to be totally changed into a quite contrary condition. And therefore it was, that Agesilaus made answer to one that was saying, what a happy young man the King of Persia was, to come so young to so mighty a Kingdom; 'Tis true, (said he) but neither was Priam unhappy at his years. In a short time, of Kings of Macedon, Successors to that mighty Alexander, were made Joiner's and Scrivener's at Rome, of a Tyrant of Sicily, a Pedant at Corinth, of a Conqueror of one half of the World, and General of so many Armies, a miserable Suppliant to the rascally Officers of a King of Egypt. So much the prolongation of five or six Months of Life cost the Great and Noble Pompey; and no longer since than our Father's days, Ludovico Sforza, the tenth Duke of Milan, whom all Italy had so long truckled under, was seen to die a wretched Prisoner at Loches, but not till he had lived ten Years in Captivity, which was the worst part of his Fortune. The fairest of all Queens, 
Marry, Qu. of Scots.  Widow to the greatest King in Europe, did she not come to die by the hand of an Executioner? Unworthy and barbarous Cruelty! and a thousand more Examples there are of the same kind; for, it seems, that as Storms and Tempests have a Malice to the proud, and overtow'ring heights of our lofty Buildings, there are also Spirits above that are envious of the Grandeurs here below.  


Lucret. l. 5.  Vsque adeo res humanas vis abdita quaedam  
Obterit, & pulcros Fasces, saevasque secures  
Proculcare ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur.   

By which it does appear, a Power unseen  
Rome's awful Fasces, and her Axes keen  
Spurns under foot, and plainly does despise,  
Of humane Power the vain Formalities.   
And it should seem also that Fortune sometimes lies in wait to surprise the last Hour of our Lives, to show the Power she has in a Moment to overthrow what she was so many Years in building, making us cry out with Laberius, 
Macrob. l. 2. c. 2.  Nimirum hac die una plus vixi, mihi quam vivendum fuit, I have lived longer by this one day than I ought to have done. And in this Sense, this good Advice of Solon may reasonably be taken; but he being a Philosopher, with which sort of Men the Favours and Disgraces of Fortune stand for nothing, either to the making a Man happy or unhappy, and with whom Grandeurs and Powers, Accidents of Quality, are upon the Matter indifferent: I am apt to think that he had some further Aim, and that his meaning was, that the very Felicity of Life itself, which depends upon the Tranquillity and Contentment of a well-descended Spirit, and the Resolution and Assurance of a well-ordered Soul, ought never to be attributed to any Man, till he has first been seen to play the last, and doubtless the hardest act of his Part, because there may be Disguise and Dissimulation in all the rest, where these fine Philosophical Discourses are only put on; and where Accidents do not touch us to the Quick, they give us leisure to maintain the same sober Gravity; but in this last Scene of Death, there is no more counterfeiting, we must speak plain, and must discover what there is of pure and clean in the bottom. 

Nam verae voces tum demum pectore ab imo 
Lucret. l. 3.   
Ejiciuntur, & eripitur persona, manet res.   

Then then at last Truth issues from the Heart,  
The Vizor's gone, we act our own true part.   Wherefore, at this last all the other Actions of our Life ought to be tried and sifted. 'Tis the Master-day, 'tis the day that is judge of all the rest, 'Tis the Day (says one of the Ancients) that aught to be judge of all my foregoing Years. To Death do I refer the Essay of the Fruit of all my Studies. We shall then see whether my Discourses came only from my Mouth, or from my Heart. I have seen many by their Death give a good or an ill Repute to their whole Life. Scipio, the Father-in-law of Pompey the great, in dying well, wiped away the ill Opinion, that till then every one had conceived of him. Epaminondas being asked which of the three he had in greatest esteem, Chabrias, Iphicrates, or himself; You must first see us die (said he) before that Question can be resolved: and in truth, he would infinitely wrong that great Man, who would weigh him without the Honour and Grandeur of his End. God Almighty has ordered all things as it has best pleased him: But I have in my time seen three of the most execrable Persons that ever I knew in all manner of abominable living, and the most infamous to boot, who all died a very regular Death, and in all Circumstances composed even to Perfection. There are brave, and fortunate Deaths. I have seen Death cut the Thread of the Progress of a prodigious Advancement, and in the height and Flower of its increase of a certain Person, with so glorious an end, that in my Opinion his Ambitious and generous Designs had nothing in them so high and great as their Interruption; and he arrived, without completing his course, at the Place to which his Ambition pretended, with greater Glory, than he could himself either hope or desire, and anticipated by his Fall the Name and Power to which he aspired, by perfecting his Career. In the Judgement I make of another man's Life, I always observe how he carried himself at his Death; and the principal Concern I have for my own, is, that I may die handsomely, that is, patiently, and without noise.   

CHAP. XIX. That to study Philosophy, is to learn to die.  
CIcero says, That to study Philosophy is nothing but to prepare a Man's self to die. The reason of which is, because Study and Contemplation do in some sort withdraw from us, and deprive us of our Souls, and employ it separately from the Body, which is a kind of Learning to die, and a resemblance of Death; or else because all the Wisdom and reasoning in the World, does in the end conclude in this Point, to teach us not to fear to die. And to say the Truth, either our Reason does grossly abuse us, or it ought to have no other Aim but our Contentment only, nor to endeavour any thing but in Sum to make us live well, and, as the Holy Scripture says, at our Ease. All the Opinions of the World agree in this, That Pleasure is our end, though we make use of divers means to attain unto it, they would otherwise be rejected at the first motion; for who would give Ear to him that should propose Affliction and Misery for his end? The Controversies and Disputes of the Philosophical Sects upon this Point are merely verbal, Transcurramus solertissimas nugas, 
Seneca Epist.  Let us skip over those learned and subtle Fooleries and Trifles; there is more in them of Opposition and Obstinacy than is consistent with so sacred a Profession: but what kind of Person soever Man takes upon him to personate, he over-mixes his own part with it; and let the Philosophers all say what they will, the main thing at which we all aim, even in Virtue itself, is Pleasure. It pleases me to rattle in their Ears this Word, which they so nauseate to hear; and if it signify some supreme Pleasure and excessive Delight, it is more due to the Assistance of Virtue, than to any other Assistance whatever. This Delight, for being more gay, more sinewy, more robust, and more manly, is only to be more seriously voluptuous, and we ought to give it the Name of Pleasure, as that which is more benign, gentle, and natural, and not that of Vigour, from which we have derived it: the other more mean and sensual part of Pleasure, if it could deserve this fair Name, it ought to be upon the Account of Concurrence, and not of Privilege; I find it less exempt from Traverses and Inconveniences, than Virtue itself; and besides that, the Enjoyment is more momentary, fluid, and frail, it has its Watchings, Fasts, and Labours, even to Sweat and Blood; and moreover, has particular to itself so many several sorts of sharp and wounding Passions, and so stupid a Satiety attending it, as are equal to the severest Penance. And we mistake to think that Difficulties should serve it for a Spur, and a seasoning to its Sweetness, as in Nature one Contrary is quickened by another, and to say when we come to Virtue, that like Consequences and Difficulties overwhelm and render it austere and inaccessible; whereas, much more aptly than in Voluptuousness, they enable, sharpen, and heighten the perfect and divine Pleasure they procure us. He renders himself unworthy of it who will counterpoise his Expense with the Fruit, and does neither understand the Blessing, nor how to use it. Those who Preach to us, that the quest of it is craggy, difficult, and painful, but the Fruition pleasant and grateful, what do they mean by that, but to tell us that it is always unpleasing? The most perfect have been forced to content themselves to aspire unto it, and to approach it only without ever possessing it. But they are deceived, and do not take notice, that of all the Pleasures we know, the very Pursuit is pleasant. The Attempt ever relishes of the quality of the thing to which it is directed, for it is a good part of, and consubstantial with the Effect. The Felicity and Beatitude that glitters in Virtue, shines throughout all her Apartments and Avenues, even to the first Entry, and utmost Pale and Limits. Now of all the Benefits that Virtue confers upon us, the Contempt of Death is one of the greatest, as the means that accommodates Humane Life with a soft and easy Tranquillity, and gives us a pure and pleasant Taste of Living, without which all other pleasure would be extinct; which is the Reason why all the Rules by which we are to live centre and concur in this one Article. And although they all in like manner with one consent endeavour to teach us also to despise Grief, Poverty, and the other Accidents to which humane Life, by its own Nature and Constitution, is subjected, it is not nevertheless with the same Importunity, as well by reason the forenamed Accidents are not of so great necessity, the greater part of Mankind passing over their whole Lives without ever knowing what Poverty is, and some without Sorrow or Sickness; as Xenophilus the Musician, who lived a hundred and six Years in a perfect and continual Health; as also because, at the worst, Death can, whenever we please, cut short, and put an end to all these Inconveniences. But as to Death, it is inevitable. 

Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium  
Versatur Vrna, serius, 
Horat. l. 2. Ode 3.  ocius  
Sors exitura, & nos in aeternum  
exilium impositura Cymbae.   

We all are to one Voyage bound; by turn,  
Sooner or later, all must to the Urn:  
When Charon calls aboard we must not stay,  
But to eternal Exile sail away.   And consequently, if it frights us, 'tis a perpetual Torment, and for which there is no Consolation nor Redress. There is no way by which we can possibly avoid it, it commands all Points of the Compass; we may continually turn our Heads this way and that, and pry about as in a suspected Country, quae quasi saxum Tantalo semper impendet, 
Cicero de finib. l. 1.  but it, like Tantalus his Stone, hangs over us. Our Courts of Justice often send back condemned Criminals to be executed upon the Place where the Fact was committed; but carry them to all fine Houses by the way, and prepare for them the best Entertainment you can, 

— non Sicula Dapes 
Hor. l. 3. Ode 1.   
Dulcem elaborabunt saporem:  
Non Avium, Citharaeque cantus  
Somnum reducent.   

— the tastes of such as these  
Choicest Sicilian Dainties cannot please,  
Nor yet of Birds, or Harps the Harmonies  
Once charm asleep, or close their watchful Eyes.   do you think they could relish it? and that the fatal end of their Journey being continually before their Eyes, would not alter and deprave their palate from tasting these Regalios?  


Claud.  Audit iter numeratque dies spatioque viarum  
Metitur vitam, torquetur peste futura.   

He time and space computes, by length of ways  
Sums up the number of his few sad days,  
And his sad thoughts, full of his fatal doom,  
Can dream of nothing but the blow to come.   
The end of our Race is Death, 'tis the necessary Object of our aim, which if it fright us, how is it possible to advance a step without a Fit of an Ague? the Remedy the Vulgar use, is not to think on't: but from what brutish stupidity can they derive so gross a blindness? They must bridle the Ass by the Tayl. 


Lucret. l. 4.  Qui capite ipse suo instituit vestigia retro.   

He who the order of his steps has laid  
To light and natural motion retrograde,   'tis no wonder if he be often trapped in the Pitfall. They use to fright People with the very mention of Death, and many cross themselves, as it were the name of the Devil; and because the making a man's Will is in reference to dying, not a man will be persuaded to take a Pen in hand to that purpose, till the Physician has passed sentence upon him, and totally given him over, and then betwixt Grief and Terror, God knows in how fit a condition of Understanding he is to do it. The Romans, by reason that this poor syllable Death was observed to be so harsh to the Ears of the People, and the sound so ominous; had found out a way to soften and spin it out by a Periphrasis, and instead of pronouncing bluntly, such a one is dead, to say, such a one has lived, or such a one has ceased to live; for, provided there was any mention of Life in the case, though past, it carried yet some sound of Consolation. And from them it is that we have borrowed our expression of the late Monsieur such and such a one. Peradventure (as the Saying is) the term we have lived is worth our money. 
The Author's birth  I was born betwixt eleven and twelve a clock in the Forenoon the last of February 1533. according to our Computation, beginning the Year the first of January, and it is now but just fifteen days since I was complete nine and thirty years old; I make account to live at least as many more. In the mean time, to trouble a man's self with the thought of a thing so far off, is a senseless Foolery. But what? Young and Old dye after the very same manner, and no one departs out of Life otherwise, than if he had but just before entered into it; neither is any so old and decrepit, who has heard of Methusalem, that does not think he has yet twenty years of Constitution good at least. Fool that thou art, who has assured unto thee the term of Life? Thou depend'st upon Physicians Tales and Stories, but rather consult Experience, and the fragility of Humane Nature: for, according to the common course of things, 'tis long since that thou liv'dst by extraordinary Favour. Thou hast already outlived the ordinary term of Life, and that it is so, reckon up thy Acquaintance, how many more have died before they arrived at thy Age, than have attained unto it, and of those who have ennobled their Lives by their Renown, take but an Account, and I dare lay a Wager, thou wilt find more who have died before than after five and thirty years of age. It is full both of Reason and Piety too, to take Example by the Humanity of Jesus Christ himself, who ended his Life at three and thirty years. The greatest man, that ever was no more than a man, Alexander, died also at the same Age. How many several ways has Death to surprise us? 


Hor. l. 2. Od. 13.  Quid quisque vitet, nunquam homini satis  
Cautum est in horas.   

Man fain would shun, but 'tis not in his Power  
T' evade the dangers of each threatening hour.   To omit Fevers and Pleurisies, who would ever have imagined that a Duke of Britain should be pressed to death in a Crowd, as that Duke was at the entry of Pope Clement into Lions? Have we not seen one of our 
* 
Henry TWO of France, running against Montgomery.  
2. Philip the eldest son of Lewis the Gross, the 40th King of France.   Kings killed at a Tilting, and did not one of his Ancestors die by the justle of a Hog? Aeschylus, being threatened with the fall of a house, was to much purpose so circumspect to avoid that danger, when he was knocked o'th' head by a Tortoise-shell falling out of an Eagles Talons in the Fields. Another was choked with a Grapestone; an Emperor killed with the scratch of a Comb in combing his Head. Aemilius Lepidus, with a stumble at his own threshold, and Anfidius with a justle against the door, as he entered the Council Chamber. And betwixt the very Thighs of Women, Cornelius Gallus the Praetor, Tigillinus Captain of the Watch at Rome, Ludovico Son of Guido de Gonzaga Marquis of Mantua, and (of worse example) Spensippus, a Platonic Philosopher, and one of our Popes. The poor Judge Bebius, whilst he reprieved a Criminal for eight days only, was himself condemned to death, and his own day of Life was expired. Whilst Caius Julius the Physician was anointing the Eyes of a Patient, Death closed his own; and, if I may bring in an Example of my own Blood; A Brother of mine, Captain St. Martin, a young man, of three and twenty years old, who had already given sufficient testimony of his Valour, playing a match at Tennis, received a blow of a Ball a little above his right Ear, which, though it was without any manner of sign of Wound, or depression of the Skull, and though he took no great notice of it, nor so much as sat down to repose himself, he nevertheless died within five or six hours after, of an Apoplexy occasioned by that blow. Which so frequent and common Examples passing every day before our Eyes, how is it possible a man should disengage himself from the thought of Death; or avoid fancying that it has us every moment by the Collar? What matter is it, you will say, which way it comes to pass, provided a man does not terrify himself with the expectation? For my part, I am of this mind, that if a man could by any means avoid it, though by creeping under a Calf's skin, I am one that should not be ashamed of the shift: all I aim at is, to pass my time pleasantly, and without any great Reproach, and the Recreations that most contribute to it, I take hold of, as to the rest, as little glorious and exemplary as you would desire. 

— praetulerim delirus inersque videri,  

Horace, Epist. 2. l. 2.  Dum mea delectant mala me, vel denique fallant,  
quam sapere, & ringi.   

A Fool, or Coward, let me censured be,  
Whilst either Vice does please, or cozen me,  
Rather, than be thought wise, and feel the smart  
Of a perpetual aching, anxious Heart.   But 'tis folly to think of doing any thing that way. They go, they come, they gallop and dance, and not a word of Death. All this is very fine: but withal, when it comes either to themselves, their Wives, their Children, or Friends, surprising them at unawares, and unprepared, then what torment, what out-cries, what madness and despair! Did you ever see any thing so subdued, so changed and so confounded? A man must therefore make more early trial of it; and this brutish negligence, could it possibly lodge in the Brain of any man of Sense (which I think utterly impossible) sells us its merchandise too dear. Were it an Enemy that could be avoided, I would then advise to borrow Arms even of Cowardice itself to that effect: but seeing it is not, and that it will catch you as well flying, and playing the Poltroon, as standing to't like a man of Honour.  

Nempe & fugacem persequitur virum, 
Idem. l. 3. Ode. 2.   
Nec parcit umbellis juventae  
Poplitibus timidoque tergo.   

No speed of foot prevents Death of his prize,  
He cuts the Hamstrings of the man that flies;  
Nor spares the tender Stripling's back, does start  
T' outrun the distance of his mortal Dart.   
And seeing that no temper of Arms is of proof to secure us, 


Propert. l. 3. Eleg. 17. alias 16.  Ille licet ferro, cautus se condat, & aere  
Mors tamen inclusum protrahet inde caput.   

Shell thee with Steel or Brass, advised by dread,  
Death from the Cask will pull the cautious Head.   let us learn bravely to stand our ground, and fight him. And to begin to deprive him of the greatest Advantage he has over us, let us take a way quite contrary to the common course. Let us disarm him of his Novelty and Strangeness, let us converse, and be familiar with him, and have nothing so frequent in our thoughts as Death; Let us upon occasions represent him in all his most dreadful shapes to our imagination; at the stumbling of a Horse, at the falling of a Tile, at the lest prick with a Pin, let us presently consider, and say to ourselves, Well, and what if it had been Death itself? and thereupon let us encourage and fortify ourselves. Let us evermore amidst our jollity and Feasting, set the remembrance of our frail condition before our Eyes, never suffering ourselves to be so far transported with our Delight, but that we have some intervals of reflecting upon, and considering how many several ways this Jollity of ours tends to Death, and with how many dangers it threatens it. The Egyptians were wont to do after this manner, who in the height of their Feasting and Mirth, caused a dried Skeleton of a Man to be brought into the Room to serve for a Memento to their Guests.  

Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum, 
Horat. l. 1. Epist. 4.   
Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur hora.   

Think every day, soon as the day is past,  
Of thy Lives date, that thou hast lived the last;  
The next day's joyful Light thine Eyes shall see,  
As unexpected, will more welcome be.   
Where Death waits for us is uncertain; let us every where look for him. The Premeditation of Death is the Premeditation of Liberty; who has learned to die has forgot to serve. There is nothing of Evil in Life, for him who rightly comprehends, that Death is no Evil: to know how to die delivers us from all Subjection and Constraint. Paulus Aemylius answered him whom the miserable King of Macedon, his Prisoner, sent to entreat him that he would not lead him in his Triumph, Let him make that Request to himself. In truth, in all things, if Nature do not help a little, it is very hard for Art and Industry to perform any thing to purpose. I am in my own Nature not melancholic, but thoughtful; and there is nothing I have more continually entertained myself withal than the Imaginations of Death, even in the gayest and most wanton time of my Age.  


Catullus. Num. 69.  Jucundum cum aetas florida ver ageret.   

Of florid Age in the most pleasant Spring.   
In the Company of Ladies, and in the height of Mirth, some have perhaps thought me possessed with some Jealousy, or meditating upon the Uncertainty of some imagined Hope, whilst I was entertaining myself with the Remembrance of some one surprised a few days before with a burning Fever of which he died, returning from an Entertainment like this, with his Head full of idle Fancies of Love and Jollity; as mine was then, and that for aught I knew the same Destiny was attending me. 


Lucret. l. 3.  Jam fuerit, nec post unquam revocare licebit.   

But now he had a Being amongst Men,  
Now gone, and ne'er to be recalled again.   Yet did not this Thought wrinkle my Forehead any more than any other. It is impossible but we must feel a sting in such Imaginations as these at first; but with often revolving them in a Man's Mind, and having them frequent in our Thoughts, they at last become so familiar as to be no trouble at all: otherwise, I for my Part should be in a perpetual Fright and Frenzy; for never Man was so distrustful of his Life, never Man so indifferent for its Duration. Neither Health, which I have hitherto ever enjoyed very strong and vigorous, and very seldom interrupted, does prolong, nor Sickness contract my Hopes. Methinks I scape every minute, and it eternally runs in my Mind, that what may be done to morrow may be done to day. Hazards and Dangers do, in truth, little or nothing hasten our end; and if we consider how many more remain and hang over our Heads, besides the Accident that immediately threatens us, we shall find that the Sound and the Sick, those that are abroad at Sea, and those that sit by the Fire, those who are engaged in Battle, and those who sit idle at home, are the one as near it as the other. Nemo altero fragilior est: 
Senec. Ep. 91.  nemo in crastinum sui certior, No Man is more frail than another, no more certain of the morrow. For any thing I have to do before I die, the longest leisure would appear too short, were it but an Hours Business I had to do. A Friend of mine the other day turning over my Table-Book, found in it a Memorandum of something I would have done after my Decease, whereupon I told him, as it was really true, that though I was no more than a League's distance only from my own House, and merry and well, yet when that thing came into my Head, I made haste to write it down there, because I was not certain to live till I came home. As a man that am eternally brooding over my own thoughts, and who confine them to my own particular Concerns, I am upon the matter at all hours as well prepared as I am ever like to be, and Death, whenever he shall come, can bring nothing along with him I did not expect long before. We should always (as near as we can) be booted and spurred, and ready to go, and above all things to take care at that time to have no business with any one but a man's self: 


Horat. l. 2. Ode 16.  Quid brevi fortes jaculamur aevo Multa?   

Why cut'st thou out such mighty Work, vain man?  
Whose Life's short date's comprised in one poor span?   For we shall there find work enough to do, without any need of Addition; One complains, more than of Death, that he is thereby prevented of a glorious Victory; another, that he must die before he has married his Daughter, or settled, and provided for his Children; a third seems only troubled that he must lose the society of his beloved Wife; a fourth, the conversation of his Son, as the principal Concerns of his Being. For my part, I am, thanks be to God, at this instant in such a condition, that I am ready to dislodge, whenever it shall please him, without any manner of regret. I disengage myself throughout from all Worldly Relations, my leave is soon taken of all but myself. Never did any one prepare to bid adieu to the World more absolutely and purely, and to shake hands with all manner of Interest in it, than I expect to do. The deadest Deaths are the best. 

— miser, o miser, 
Lucret. l. 3.  (aiunt) omnia ademit  
una dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae;   

Wretch that I am (they cry) one fatal day  
So many joys of Life has snatched away.   And the Builder, 

— manent (dit il.) opera interrupta, 
Aeneid. l. 4.  minaeque  
Murorum ingentes, aequataque machina Coelo.   

Stupendious Piles (says he) neglected lie,  
And towers whose Pinnacles do pierce the Sky.   A man must design nothing that will require so much time to the finishing, or at least with no such passionate desire to see it brought to Perfection. We are born to action. 

Cum moriar medium solvar & inter opus. 
Ovid. Amor. lib. 2. Eleg. 10.    

When Death shall come, he me will doubtless find  
Doing of something that I had designed.   I would always have a man to be doing, and, as much as in him lies, to extend, and spin out the Offices of Life; and then let Death take me planting Cabbages, but without any careful thought of him, and much less of my Garden's not being finished. I saw one die, who at his last gasp seemed to be concerned at nothing so much, as that Destiny was about to cut the thread of a Chronicle History he was then compiling, when he was gone no farther than the fifteenth or sixteenth of our Kings. 


Lucret. l. 3.  Illud in his rebus non addunt, nec tibi earum  
Jam desiderium rerum, superinsidet una.   

They tell us not that dying we've no more  
The same desires and thoughts that heretofore.   We are to discharge ourselves from these vulgar and hurtful Humours and Concerns. To this purpose it was, that men first appointed the places of Sepulture, and Dormitories of the dead, near adjoining to the Churches, and in the most frequent places of the City, to accustom (says Lycurgus) the common People, womans, and Children, that they should not be startled at the sight of a dead Corpse; and to the end, that the continual Objects of Bones, Graves, Monuments, and Funeral Obsequies should put us in mind of our frail condition. 

Quinetiam exhilerare viris convivia caede  

Silius Italicus, l. 11.  Mos olim, & misere epulis spectacula dira  
Certatum ferro, saepe & super ipsa cadentum  
Pocula, respersis non parco sanguine mensis.   

'Twas therefore that the Ancients at their Feasts  
With tragic Objects used to treat their Guests,  
Making their Fencers with their utmost spite,  
Skill, Force, and Fury, in their presence fight,  
Till streams of Blood of those at last must fall,  
Dashed o'er their Tables, Dishes, Cups and all.   And as the Egyptians after their Feasts were wont to present the Company with a great Image of Death, by one that cried out to them, Drink and be merry, for such shalt thou be when thou art dead; so it is my Custom to have Death not only in my Imagination, but continually in my Mouth; neither is there any thing of which I am so inquisitive, and delight to inform myself, as the manner of men's Deaths, their Words, Looks, and Gestures; nor any places in History I am so intent upon; and it is manifest enough, by my crowding in Examples of this kind, that I have a particular fancy for that Subject. If I were a Writer of Books, I would compile a Register with a Comment of the various Deaths of men, and it could not but be useful, for who should teach men to die, would at the same time teach them to live. Dicearchus made one, to which he gave that Title; but it was designed for another, and less profitable end. Peradventure some one may object, and say, that the pain and terror of dying indeed does so infinitely exceed all manner of imagination, that the best Fencer will be quite out of his Play when it comes to the Push: but let them say what they will, to premeditate is doubtless a very great Advantage; and besides, is it nothing to come so far, at least, without any visible Disturbance or Alteration? But moreover, Nature herself does assist and encourage us. If the Death be sudden and violent, we have not leisure to fear; if otherwise, I find, that as I engage further in my Disease, I naturally enter into a certain loathing, and disdain of Life. I find I have much more ado to digest this Resolution of dying when I am well in Health than when sick languishing of a Fever; and by how much I have less to do with the Commodities of Life, by reason I even begin to lose the use and Pleasure of them, by so much I look upon Death with less Terror and Amazement; which makes me hope, that the further I remove from the first, and the nearer I approach to the latter, I shall sooner strike a Bargain, and with less Unwillingness exchange the one for the other. And, as I have experimented in other Occurrences, that, as Caesar says, things often appear greater to us at distance than near at hand, I have found, that being well, I have had Diseases in much greater Horror than when really afflicted with them. The Vigour wherein I now am, and the Jollity and Delight wherein I now live, make the contrary Estate appear in so great a disproportion to my present condition, that by imagination I magnify, and make those inconveniences twice greater than they are, and apprehend them to be much more troublesome, than I find them really to be, when they lie the most heavy upon me, and I hope to find Death the same. Let us but observe in the ordinary changes and Declinations our Constitutions daily suffer, how Nature deprives us of all sight and sense of our bodily decay. What remains to an old man of the vigour of his Youth and better days? 

Heu senibus vitae portio quanta manet? 
Corn. Galli. vel potius Maximian. Eleg. 1.    

Alas, to men, of youthful Heat bereft,  
How small a Portion of Life is left?   Caesar, to an old weatherbeaten Soldier of his Guards, who came to ask him leave that he might kill himself, taking notice of his withered Body, and decrepit motion, pleasantly answered, Thou fanciest then that thou art yet alive. Should a man fall into the Aches and impotencies of Age, from a sprightly and vigorous Youth on the sudden, I do not think Humanity capable of enduring such a change: but Nature, leading us by the hand, an easy, and as it were, an insensible pace, step by step conducts us to that miserable condition, and by that means makes it familiar to us, so that we perceive not, nor are sensible of the stroke then, when our Youth dies in us, though it be really a harder Death, than the final Dissolution of a languishing Body, which is only the Death of old Age; forasmuch as the Fall is not so great from an uneasy Being to none at all, as it is from a sprightly and florid Being to one that is unwieldy and painful. The Body, when bowed beyond its natural spring of Strength, has less Force either to rise with, or support a Burden; and it is with the Soul the same, and therefore it is, that we are to raise her up firm and erect against the Power of this Adversary: for as it is impossible she should ever be at rest, or at Peace within herself, whilst she stands in fear of it; so if she once can assure herself, she may boast (which is a thing as it were above Humane Condition) that it is impossible that Disquiet, Anxiety, or Fear, or any other Disturbance, should inhabit, or have any Place in her. 


Horat. l. 3. Ode 3.  Non vultus instantis tyranni  
Mente quatit solida, neque Auster  
Dux inquieti turbidus Adriae,  
Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus.   

A Soul well settled is not to be shaken  
With an incensed Tyrant's threatening Look;  
Nor can loud Austere once that Heart dismay,  
The ruffling Prince of stormy Adria;  
Nor yet th' advanced hand of mighty Jove,  
Though charged with Thunder, such a Temper move.   She is then become Sovereign of all her Lusts and Passions, Mistress of Necessity, Shame, Poverty, and all the other Injuries of Fortune. Let us therefore, as many of us as can, get this Advantage, which is the true and sovereign Liberty here on Earth, and that fortifies us wherewithal to defy Violence and Injustice, and to contemn Prisons and Chains.  

— in Manicis, 
Hor. l. 1. Epist. 16.  &  
Compedibus, saevo te sub custode tenebo.  
Ipse Deus simul atque volam, me solvet: opinor,  
Hoc sentit, moriar, mors ultima linea verum est.   

With rugged Chains I'll load thy Hands and Feet,  
And to a surly Keeper thee commit;  
Why let him show his worst of Cruelty,  
God will, I think, for ask, set me free:  
Ay, but he thinks I'll die; that Comfort brings,  
For Death's the utmost Line of Humane things.   
Our very Religion itself has no surer humane Foundation than the Contempt of Death. 
The Contempt of Death a certain Foundation of Religion.  Not only the Argument of Reason invites us to it; for why should we fear to lose a thing, which being lost, can never be missed or lamented? But also seeing we are threatened by so many sorts of Death, is it not infinitely worse eternally to fear them all, than once to undergo one of them? And what matter is it when it shall happen, since it is once inevitable? To him that told Socrates, the thirty Tyrants have sentenced thee to Death; and Nature them, said he. What a ridiculous thing it is to trouble and afflict ourselves, about taking the only Step that is to deliver us from all Misery and Trouble? As our Birth brought us the Birth of all things, so in our Death is the Death of all things included. And therefore to lament and take on, that we shall not be alive a hundred Years hence, is the same Folly as to be sorry we were not alive a hundred Years ago. Death is the beginning of another Life. So did we weep, and so much it cost us to enter into this, and so did we put off our former Veil in entering into it. Nothing can be grievous that is but once, and is it reasonable so long to fear a thing that will so soon be dispatched? Long Life, and short, are by Death made all one; for there is no long, nor short, to things that are no more. Aristotle tells us, that there are certain little Beasts upon the Banks of the River Hypanis, that never live above a day: they which die at eight of the Clock in the Morning, die in their Youth, and those that die at five in the Evening, in their extremest Age: which of us would not laugh to see this Moment of Continuance put into the consideration of Weal or Woe? The most, and the least of ours in comparison of Eternity, or yet to the Duration of Mountains, Rivers, Stars, Trees, and even of some Animals, is no less ridiculous. But Nature compels us to it; Go out of this World, says she, as you entered into it; the same Pass you made from Death to Life, without Passion or Fear, the same, after the same manner, repeat from Life to Death. Your Death is a part of the Order of the Universe, 'tis a part of the Life of the World.  

— inter se mortales mutua vivunt, 
Lucret. l. 2.   
Et quasi curores vitai lampada tradunt.   

Mortals amongst themselves by turns do live, 
Alluding to the Athenian Games, wherein those that run a Race carried Torches in their Hands; and the Race being done, delivered them into the Hands of those who were to run next.   
And Life's bright Torch to the next Runner give.   
'Tis the Condition of your Creation; Death is a part of you, and whilst you endeavour to evade it, you avoid yourselves. This very Being of yours that you now enjoy is equally divided betwixt Life and Death. The day of your Birth is one days advance towards the Grave. 

Prima, quae vitam dedit, hora, carpsit. 
Senec. Her. tur. chor. 3.    

The Hour that gave of Life the benefit,  
Did also a whole Hour shorten it.   

Nascentes morimur, finisque ab origine pendet.   


Manil. Ast. l. 4.  As we are born, we die, and our Life's end  
Upon our Life's beginning does depend.   All the whole time you live you purloin from Life, and live at the expense of Life itself; the perpetual work of our whole Life is but to lay the foundation of Death; you are in Death whilst you live, because you still are after Death, when you are no more alive. Or if you had rather have it so, you are dead after Life, but dying all the while you live; and Death handles the dying much more rudely than the dead. If you have made your profit of Life, you have had enough of it, go your way satisfied. 


Lucret. l. 3.  Cur non ut plenus vitae conviva recedis.   

Why shouldst thou not go like a full gorged Guest,  
Sated with Life, as he is with a Feast?   If you have not known how to make the best use of it, and if it was unprofitable to you, what need you care to lose it, to what end would you desire longer to keep it? 


Ibid. — cur amplius addere quaeris  
Rursum quod pereat malè & ingratum occidat omne?   

And why renew thy time, to what intent  
Live o'er again a Life that was ill spent?   Life in itself is neither good nor evil, it is the Scene of good or evil, as you make it; and, if you have lived a day, you have seen all, one day is equal, and like to all other days; there is no other Light, no other other Shade, this very Sun, this Moon, these very Stars, this very Order and Revolution of things, is the same your Ancestors enjoyed, and that shall also entertain your Posterity. 

Non alium videre patres, aliumve nepotes Aspicient. 
Lucret. vel Manil.    

Your Grandsires saw no other things of old,  
Nor shall your Nephews other things behold.   And come the worst that can come, the distribution and variety of all the Acts of my Comedy, is performed in a Year. If you have observed the Revolution of the four Seasons, they comprehend, the Infancy, Youth, Virility, and old Age of the World. The Year has played his part, and knows no other way, has no new Farce, but must begin and repeat the same again; it will always be the same thing.  

Versamur ibidem, atque insumus usque. 
Lucret. l. 3.    

Where still we plot, and still contrive in vain,  
For in the same state still we do remain.   

Atque in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus. 
Virg. Georg. l. 2.    

By its own footstepts led, the Year doth bring  
Both ends together in an annual Ring.   
Time is not resolved to create you any new Recreations. 


Lucret. l. 3.  Nam tibi praeterea quod machiner, inveniamque  
Quod placeat, nihil est, eadem sunt omnia semper.   

More Pleasures than are made Time will not frame,  
For to all times, all things shall be the same.   Give place to others, as others have given place to you. Equality is the Soul of Equity. Who can complain of being comprehended in the same Destiny wherein all things are involved? Besides, live as long as you can, you shall by that nothing shorten the space you are to lie dead in the Grave; 'tis all to no purpose; you shall be every whit as long in the condition you so much fear, as if you had died at Nurse. 

— licet quotvis, vivendo vincere secla,  

Ibidem.  Mors aeterna tamen, nihilominus illa manebit.   

And live as many Ages as you will,  
Death nevertheless shall be eternal still.   And yet I will place you in such a condition as you shall have no reason to be displeased; 


Ibidem.  In vera nescis nullum fore marte alium te  
Qui possit vivus tibi te lugere peremptum,  
Stansque jacentem.   

When dead, a living self thou canst not have,  
Or to lament, or trample on thy grave.   Nor shall you so much as wish for the Life you are so concerned about.  

Nec sibi enim quisquam tum se vitamque requirit, 
Ibidem.   
Nec desiderium nostri nos afficit ullum.   

Life, nor ourselves we wish in that Estate,  
Nor Thoughts of what we were unrest create.   
Death were less to be feared than nothing, if there could be any thing less than nothing. 

— multo mortem minus ad nos esse putandum, 
Ibidem.   
Si minus esse potest quam quod nihil esse videmus.   

If less than nothing any thing can show,  
Death then would both appear, and would be so.   Neither can it any way concern you, whether you are living or dead: living, by reason that you are still in being, dead, because you are no more. Moreover, no one dies before his Hour: and the Time you leave behind was no more yours, than that was lapsed, and gone before you came into the World; nor does it any more concern you.  

Respice enim quam nil ad nos anteacta vetustas 
Ibidem.   
Temporis aeterni fuerit.   

Look back, and though Times past eternal were,  
In those before us yet we had no share.   
Wherever your Life ends it is all there; neither does the Utility of living consist in the length of days, but in the well husbanding and improving of Time, and such an one may have been who has longer continued in the World than the ordinary Age of Man; that has yet lived but a little while. Make use of Time while it is present with you. It depends upon your Will, and not upon the number of Days, to have a sufficient length of Life. Is it possible you can imagine never to arrive at the Place towards which you are continually going? and yet there is no Journey but hath its end. But if Company will make it more pleasant, or more easy to you, does not all the World go the self same way? 


Ibidem. — omnia te vita perfuncta sequentur.   

When thou art dead, let this thy Comfort be,  
That all the World, by turn, must follow thee.   Does not all the World dance the same Brawl that you do? Is there any thing that does not grow old as well as you? A thousand Men, a thousand Animals, and a thousand other Creatures, die at the same Moment that you expire.  


Lucret. l. 2.  Nam nox nulla diem, neque noctem aurora secuta est,  
Quae non audierit mistos vagitibus aegris  
Ploratus mortis comites, & funeris atri.   

No Night succeeds the Day, nor Morning's Light  
Rises to chase the sullen Shades of Night,  
Wherein there is not heard the dismal Groans  
Of dying Men, mixed with the woeful moans  
Of living Friends, as also with the Cries  
And Dirges fitting funeral Obsequies.   
To what end should you endeavour to avoid, unless there were a possibility to evade it? you have seen Examples enough of those who have received so great a benefit by Dying, as thereby to be manifestly delivered from infallible Miseries; but have you Talked with any of those who have feared a Disadvantage by it? It must therefore needs be very foolish to condemn a thing you neither experimented in your own Person, nor by that of any other. Why (says Nature) dost thou complain of me and Destiny? Do we do thee any wrong? Is it for thee to govern us, or for us to dispose of thee? Though peradventure thy Age may not be accomplished, yet thy Life is. A Man of low Stature is as much a man as a Giant; neither Men, nor their Lives, are measured by the Ell. Chiron refused to be immortal, when he was acquainted with the Conditions under which he was to enjoy it, by the God of time itself, and its Duration, his Father Saturn. Do but seriously consider how much more insupportable an immortal and painful Life would be to man than what I have already designed him. If you had not Death to ease you of your Pains and Cares, you would eternally curse me for having deprived you of the Benefit of Dying. I have, 'tis true, mixed a little Bitterness with it, to the end, that seeing of what Conveniency and Use it is, you might not too greedily and indiscreetly seek and embrace it: and that you might be so established in this Moderation, as neither to nauseate Life, nor have an Antipathy for dying, which I have decreed you shall once do, I have tempered the one and the other betwixt Pleasure and Pain: and was I that first taught Thales, the most eminent of all your Sages, that to Live and to Dye were indifferent; which made him very wisely answer who asked him, Why then he did not die? because (says he) it is indifferent. The Elements of Water, Earth, Fire, and Air, and the other Parts of this Creation of thine, are no more the Instruments of thy Life than they are of thy Death. Why dost thou fear thy last day, it contributes no more to thy dissolution than every one of the rest? The last Step is not the cause of Cassitude, it does but confess it. Every Day travels towards Death, the last only arrives at it. These are the good Lessons our Mother Nature teaches. I have often considered with myself whence it should proceed, that in War the Image of Death, whether we look upon it as to our own particular danger, or that of another, should without Comparison appear less dreadful than at home in our own Houses, (for if it were not so, it would be an Army of whining Milksops) and that being still in all Places the same, there should be notwithstanding much more Assurance in Peasants, and the meaner sort of People, than others of better Quality and Education: and do verily believe, that it is those terrible Ceremonies and Preparations wherewith we set it out, that more terrify us than the thing itself; a new quite contrary way of living, the Cries of Mothers, Wives and Children, the Visits of astonished and afflicted Friends, the Attendance of pale and blubbered Servants, a dark Room set round with burning Tapers, our Beds environed with Physicians and Divines; in sum, nothing but Ghostliness and Horror round about us, render it so formidable, that a Man almost fancies himself dead and buried already. Children are afraid even of those they love best, and are best acquainted with, when disguised in a Vizor, and so are we; The Vizor must be removed as well from Things as Persons; which being taken away, we shall find nothing underneath but the very same Death that a mean Servant, or a poor Chambermaid, died a day or two ago, without any manner of Apprehension or Concern. Happy therefore is the Death that deprives us of the leisure to prepare things requisite for this unnecessary Pomp, a Pomp that only renders that more terrible which ought not to be feared, and that no Man upon Earth can possibly avoid.   

CHAP. XX. Of the Force of Imagination.  

Axiom. Scholast.  FOrtis imaginatio generat casum, A strong Imagination begets Accident, say the Schoolmen. I am one of those who are most sensible of the Power of Imagination: Every one is justled, but some are overthrown by it. It has a very great Impression upon me; and I make it my Business to avoid, wanting force to resist it. I could live by the sole help of healthful and jolly Company. The very sight of another's Pain does materially work upon me, and I naturally usurp the Sense of a third Person to share with him in his Torment. A perpetual Cough in another tickles my Lungs and Throat. I more unwillingly visit the sick I love, and am by Duty interested to look after, than those I care not for, and from whom I have no expectation. I take possession of the Disease I am concerned at, and lay it too much to heart, and do not at all wonder that Fancy should distribute Fevers, and sometimes kill such as allow too much Scope, and are too willing to entertain it. Simon Thomas was a great Physician of his time: I remember, that happening one day at Tholouze to meet him at a rich old Fellows House, who was troubled with naughty Lungs, and discoursing with his Patient about the method of his Cure; he told him, that one thing which would be very conducing to it, was, to give me such Occasion to be pleased with his Company, that I might come often to see him, by which means, and by fixing his Eyes upon the Freshness of my Complexion, and his Imagination upon the Sprightliness and Vigour that glowed in my Youth, and possessing all his Senses with the flourishing Age wherein I then was, his Habit of Body might peradventure be amended, but he forgot to say that mine at the same time might be made worse. Gallus Vibius so long cudgelled his Brains to find out the Essence and Motions of Folly, till by the Inquisition, in the end he went directly out of his Wits, and to such a Degree, that he could never after recover his Judgement; and he might brag that he was become a Fool by too much Wisdom. Some there are who through Fear prevent the Hangman; like him whose Eyes being unbound to have his Pardon read to him, was found stark dead upon the Scaffold, 
Imagination occasions Diseases and Death.  by the Stroke of Imagination. We start, tremble, turn pale, and blush, as we are variously moved by Imagination; and being a-bed, feel our Bodies agitated with its Power to that degree, as even sometimes to Expiration. And boiling Youth when fast asleep, grows so warm with Fancy, as in a Dream to satisfy amorous Desires.  


Lucret. l. 4.  Vt quasi transactis saepe omnibus rebus profundant  
Fluminis ingentes fluctus vestemque cruentent.   

Who fancy gulling Lies, inflamed Mind  
Lays his Love's Tribute there, where not designed.   
Although it be no new thing to see Horns grown in a Night on the Forehead of one that had none when he went to Bed; notwithstanding, what befell Cyppus, a noble Roman, is very memorable; who having one day been a very delighted Spectator of a Bull-baiting, and having all the night dreamt that he had Horns on his Head, did, by the Force of Imagination, really cause them to grow there. Passion made the Son of Croesus to speak, who was born dumb, by that means supplying him with so necessary a Faculty, which Nature had denied him. And Antiochus fell into a Fever, inflamed with the Beauty of Stratonissa too deeply imprinted in his Soul. Pliny pretends to have seen Lucius Crossitius, who from a Woman was turned into a Man upon her very Wedding-day. Pontanus, and others, report the like Metamorphosis that in these latter days have happened in Italy, and through the vehement Desire of him and his Mother.  

Vota puer solvit, 
Ovid.  quae foemina voverat Iphis.   

Iphis, a Boy, the Vow defrayed  
That he had promised when a Maid.   
Myself passing by Vitry le Francois, a Town in Champagne, saw a Man the Bishop of Soissons had in Confirmation, called Germane, whom all the Inhabitanrs of the Place had known to be a Girl till two and twenty Years of Age, called Mary. He was at the time of my being there very full of Beard, Old, and not Married, who told us, that by straining himself in a Leap, his male Instruments came out; and the Maids of that Place have to this day a Song, wherein they advise one another not to take too great Strides, for fear of being turned into Men, as Mary German was. It is no wonder if this sort of Accident frequently happen; for if Imagination have any Power in such things, it is so continually and vigorously bend upon this Subject, that to the end it may not so often relapse into the same Thought, and Violence of Desire, it were better once for all to give these young Wenches the Things they long for. Some stick not to attribute the Scars of King Dagobert, and St. Francis, to the Force of Imagination; and it is said, that by it Bodies will sometimes be removed from their Places; and Celsus tells us of a Priest whose Soul would be ravished into such an Ecstasy, that the Body would, for a long time, remain without Sense or Respiration. St. Augustine makes mention of another, who, upon the hearing of any lamentable or doleful Cries, would presently fall into a Swoon, and be so far out of himself, that it was in vain to call, hollow in his Ears, pinch, or burn him, till he voluntarily came to himself; and then he would say, that he had heard Voices as it were afar off, and did feel when they pinched and burned him: and to prove that this was no obstinate Dissimulation in defiance of his Sense of Feeling, it was manifest, that all the while he had neither Pulse nor Breathing, 'Tis very probable, that Visions, Enchantments, and all extraordinary Effects of that Nature, derive their Credit principally from the Power of Imagination, working and making its chiefest Impression upon vulgar and more easy Souls, whose Belief is so strangely imposed upon as to think they see what they do not: I am not satisfied, and make a very great Question, Whether those pleasant Ligatures with which this Age of ours is so fettered, that there is almost no other Talk, are not mere voluntary Impressions of Apprehension and fear; for I know by experience, in the Case of a particular Friend of mine, one for whom I can be as Responsible as for myself, and a Man that cannot possibly fall under any manner of Suspicion of insufficiency, and as little of being enchanted, who having heard a Companion of his make a Relation of an unusual Frigidity that surprised him at a very unseasonable time; being afterwards himself engaged upon the same Account, the Horror of the former Story on a sudden so strangely possessed his Imagination, that he ran the same Fortune the other had done; and from that time forward (the scurvy Remembrance of his Disaster running in his Mind, and tyrannising over him) was extremely subject to Relapse into the same Misfortune. He found some Remedy, however, for this Inconvenience, by himself frankly confessing, and declaring beforehand to the Party with whom he was to have to do, the Subjection he lay under, and the Infirmity he was subject to, by which means the Contention of his Soul was in some sort appeased; and knowing that now some such Misbehaviour was expected from him, the Restraint upon those Faculties grew less, and he less suffered by it, and afterwards, at such times as he could be in no such Apprehension, as not being about any such Act (his Thoughts being then disengaged and free, and his Body being in its true and natural Estate) by causing those Parts to be handled and communicated to the Knowledge of others, he was at last totally freed from that vexatious Infirmity. After a Man has once done a Woman right, he is never after in danger of misbehaving himself with that Person, unless upon the account of a manifest and excusable Weakness. Neither is this Disaster to be feared, but in Adventures where the Soul is over-extended with Desire or Respect, and especially where we meet with an unexpected Opportunity that requires a sudden and quick Dispatch; and in those Cases, there is no possible means for a Man always to defend himself from such a Surprise as shall put him damnably out of Countenance. And yet I have known some, who have secured themselves from this Mischance by coming half sated elsewhere, purposely to abate the ardour of his Fury, and others, who by being grown old, find themselves less impotent by being less able; and particularly one, who found an Advantage by being assured by a Friend of his, that he had a Counter-charm against certain Enchantments that would defend him from this Disgrace. The Story itself is not much amiss, and therefore you shall have it. A Count of a very great Family, and with whom I had the Honour to be very familiarly intimate, being Married to a very fair Lady, who had formerly been pretended to, and importunately courted by one who was invited to, and present at the Wedding, all his Friends were in very great Fear, but especially an old Lady his Kinswoman, who had the ordering of the Solemnity, and in whose House it was kept, suspecting his Rival would, in Revenge, offer foul Play, and procure some of these kind of Sorceries to put a Trick upon him; which Fear she also communicated to me, who, to comfort her, bade her not trouble herself, but rely upon my Care to prevent or frustrate any such Designs. Now I had, by chance, about me a certain flat Plate of Gold whereon were graven some Celestial Figures, good to prevent Frenzy occasioned by the Heat of the Sun, or for any Pains of the Head, being applied to the Suture; where, that it might the better remain firm, it was sowed to a Ribbon to be tied under the Chin. A Foppery Cousin-German to this of which I am speaking, and by Jaques Pelletier, who lived in my House, presented to me for a singular Rarity, and a thing of Sovereign Virtue. I had a fancy to make some use of this Knack, and therefore privately told the Count, that he might possibly run the same Fortune other Bridegrooms had sometimes done; especially some Persons being in the House, who no doubt would be glad to do him such a Courtesy, but let him boldly go to Bed, for I would do him the Office of a Friend, and if need were, would not spare a Miracle that it was in my Power to do, provided he would engage to me, upon his Honour, to keep it to himself, and only when they came to bring him his Caudle, 
A Custom in France to bring the Bridegroom a Caudle in the middle of the night, on his Wedding night.  if Matters had not gone well with him, to give me such a Sign, and leave the rest to me. Now he had his Ears so battered, and his Mind so prepossessed with the eternal Tattle of this Business, that when it came to't he did really find himself tied with the Trouble of his Imagination, and accordingly at the time appointed gave me the Sign. Whereupon, I whispered him in the Ear, That he should rise under Pretence of putting us out of the Room, and after a jesting manner pull my Nightgown from my Shoulders, throw it over his own, and there keep it till he had performed what I had appointed him to do, which was, that when we were all gone out of the Chamber he should withdraw to make Water, should three times repeat such and such Words, and as often do such and such Actions: that at every of the three times he should tie the Ribbon I put into his Hand about his Middle, and be sure to place the Medal was fastened to it (the Figures in such a Posture) exactly upon his Reins, which being done, and having the last of the three times so well girt and fast tied the Ribbon that it could neither untie nor slip from its Place, let him confidently return to his Business, and withal not to forget to spread my Gown upon the Bed, so that it might be sure to cover them both. These ridiculous Circumstances are the main of the Effect, our Fancy being so far seduced, as to believe, that so strange and uncouth Formalities must of necessity proceed from some abstruse Science. Their Inanity gives them Reverence and Weight. However, certain it is, that my Figures approved themselves more Venerean than Solar, and the fair Bride had no reason to complain. Now I cannot forbear to tell you, it was a sudden Whimsy, mixed with a little Curiosity, that made me do a thing so contrary to my Nature; for I am an Enemy to all subtle, and counterfeit Actions, and abominate all manner of Fraud, though it be but for Sport; for though the Action may not be wicked in itself, yet 'tis done after a wicked manner. Amasis, King of Egypt, married Laodicea a marvellous beautiful Greek Virgin, who, though famous for his Abilities elsewhere, found himself quite another Man with his Wife, and could by no means enjoy her; at which he was so enraged, that he threatened to kill her, suspecting her to be a Witch. As 'tis usual in things that consist in Fancy; she put him upon Devotion, who having accordingly made his Vows to Venus, he found himself divinely restored the very first Night after his Oblations and Sacrifices. Now in plain truth, Women are to blame to entertain us with that disdainful, coy, and angry Countenance they commonly do, which extinguishes our Vigour, as it kindles our Desire; which made the Daughter in Law of Pythagoras to say, That the Woman who goes to Bed to a Man, must put off her Modesty with her Petticoat, and put it on again with the same. The Soul of the Assailant being disturbed with many several Alarms, is easily astonished, and soon loses the Power of Performance; and whoever the Imagination has once put this Trick upon, and confounded with the Shame of it, (and she never does it but at the first Acquaintance, by reason Men are then more ardent and eager, and also at this first Account a Man gives of himself, he is much more timorous of miscarrying) having made an ill Beginning, he enters into such Indignation and Despite at the Accident, as will in following Opportunities be apt to remain, and continue him in the same Condition. As to what concerns Married People, having the Year before them (as we say) they ought never to compel, or so much as to offer at the Feat, if they do not find themselves very ready: and it is better indecently to fail of handselling the Nuptial Sheets, and of paying the Ceremony due to the Wedding-night, when a Man perceives himself full of Agitation and Trembling, expecting another opportunity at a better and more private Leisure, when his Fancy shall be better composed, than to make himself perpetually miserable, for having misbehaved himself, and been baffled at the first assault. Till possession be taken, a man that knows himself subject to this Infirmity, should leisurely and by degrees make several little trials and light offers, without obstinately attempting at once to force an absolute conquest over his own mutinous and indisposed Faculties; such as know their members to be naturally obedient to their desires, need to take no other care but only to counterplot their Fancy. The indocile and rude liberty of this scurvy Member, is sufficiently remarkable, by its importunate, unruly, and unseasonable tumidity and impatience, at such times as we have nothing for it to do, and by its more unseasonable stupidity and disobedience, when we stand most in need of his vigour, so imperiously contesting the authority of the Will, and with so much obstinacy denying all solicitation both of hand and fancy. And yet though his Rebellion is so universally complained of, and that proofs are not wanting to condemn him, if he had nevertheless feed me to plead his Cause, I should peradventure bring the rest of his fellow-members into suspicion of complotting this mischief against him, out of pure envy at the importance, and ravishing pleasure particular to his Employment, so as to have by Confederacy armed the whole World against him, by malevolently charging him alone with their common offence. For let any one consider, whether there is any one Part of our Bodies that does not often refuse to perform its Office at the Precept of the Will, and that does not often exercise its Function in defiance of her Command. They have every one of them proper Passions of their own, that rouse and awake, stupefy and benumb them, without our Leave or Consent. How often do the involuntary motions of the Countenance discover our inward Thoughts, and betray our most private Secrets to the Knowledge of the Standards by? The same Cause that animates this Member, does also, without our Knowledge, animate the Lungs, Pulse, and Heart, the sight of a pleasing Object imperceptibly diffusing a Flame through all our Parts with a febrifick motion. Is there nothing but these Veins and Muscles that swell, and flag without the Consent, not only of the Will, but even of our Knowledge also? We do not command our Hairs to stand an end, nor our Skin to shiver either with Fear or Desire. The Hands often convey themselves to Parts to which we do not direct them. The Tongue will be interdict, and the Voice sometimes suffocated when we know not how to help it. When we have nothing to eat, and would willingly forbid it, the Appetite of Eating and Drinking does not for all that forbear to stir up the Parts that are subjected to it, no more nor less than the other Appetite we were speaking of, and in like manner does as unseasonably leave us. The Vessels that serve to discharge the Belly have their proper Dilatations and Compressions, without, and beyond our Intelligence, as well as those which are destined to purge the Reins. And that which to justify the Prerogative of the Will, St. Augustine urges, of having seen a Man who could command his Backside to discharge as often together as he pleased, and that Vives does yet fortify with another Example in his time of one that could Fart in Tune, does nothing suppose any more pure Obedience of that Part; for is any thing commonly more tumultuary or indiscreet? To which let me add, that I myself knew one so rude and ungoverned, as for forty Years together made his Master-Vent with one continued and unintermitted Hurricane, and 'tis like will do till he expire that way, and vanish in his own Smoke. And I could heartily wish, that I only knew by Reading, how oft a Man's Belly, by the Denial of one single Puff, brings him to the very door of an exceeding painful Death; and that the Emperor, who gave Liberty to let fly in all Places, had at the same time given us Power to do it. But for our Will, in whose Behalf we prefer this Accusation, with how much greater Similitude of Truth may we reproach even her herself with Mutiny and Sedition for her Irregularity and Disobedience? Does she always will what we would have her to do? Does she not often will what we forbid her to will, and that to our manifest Prejudice? Does she suffer herself any more than any of the other, to be governed and directed by the Results of our Reason? To conclude, I should move in the Behalf of the Gentleman, 
Cazzo.  my Client, it might be considered, that in this Fact, his Cause being inseparably conjoined with an Accessary, yet he is only called in Question, and that by Arguments and Accusations, that cannot be charged, nor reflect upon the other: whose Business indeed is sometimes inoportunely to invite, but never to refuse, and to allure after a tacit and clandestine manner; and therefore is the Malice and Injustice of his Accusers most manifestly apparent. But be it how it will, protesting against the Proceedings of the Advocates and Judges, Nature will, in the mean time, proceed after her own way: who had done but well, if she had endowed this Member with some particular Privilege, The Author of the sole immortal Work of Mortals, A divine Work according to Socrates, and of Love, Desire of Immortality, and himself an immortal Daemon. Some one perhaps by such an Effect of Imagination may have had the good luck to leave 
* Videlicet the Pox.  that behind him here in France, which his Companion who has come after, and behaved himself better, has carried back with him into Spain. And that you may see why Men in such cases require a mind prepared for the thing they are to do. Why do the Physicians tamper with, and prepossess beforehand their Patient's credulity with many false promises of Cure, if not to the end, that the effect of imagination may supply the imposture and defect of their Aposeme? They know very well, that a great Master of their Trade has given it under his hand, that he has known some with whom the very sight of a potion would work: which Examples of Fancy and Conceit come now into my head, by the remembrance of a story was told me by a domestic Apothecary of my Father's, a blunt Swiss (a Nation not much addicted to vanity and lying) of a Merchant he had long known at Thoulouse, who being a valetudinary, & much afflicted with Fits of the Stone, had often occasion to take Clysters, of which he caused several sorts to be prescribed him by the Physicians, according to the accidents of his Disease: one of which being one time brought him, and none of the usual forms, as feeling if it were not too hot, and the like, being omitted, he was laid down on his Belly, the Syringe put up, and all Ceremonies performed, injection excepted; after which, the Apothecary being gone, & the Patient accommodated as if he had really received a Clyster, he found the same operation and effect that those do who have taken one indeed; and if at any time the Physician did not find the Operation sufficient, he would usually give him two or three more after the same manner. And the Fellow moreover swore to me, that to save charges (for he paid as if he had really taken them) this sick man's Wife, having sometimes made trial of warm Water only, the effect discovered the Cheat, and finding these would do no good, was fain to return to the old way. A Woman fancying she had swallowed a pin in a piece of Bread, cried out of an intolerable pain in her Throat, where she thought she felt it stick: but an ingenious Fellow that was brought to her, seeing no outward Tumour nor alteration, supposing it to be only Conceit taken at some Crust of Bread that had hurt her as it went down, caused her to vomit, and cunningly, unseen, threw a crooked Pin into the Basin, which the Woman no sooner saw, but believing she had cast it up, she presently found herself eased of her pain. I myself knew a Gentleman, who having treated a great deal of good Company at his house, three or four days after bragged in jest (for there was no such thing) that he had made them eat of a baked Cat; at which, a young Gentlewoman, who had been at the Feast, took such a horror, that falling into a violent vomiting and a Fever, there was no possible means to save her. Even brute Beasts are also subject to the force of Imagination as well as we; as is seen by Dogs, who die of grief for the loss of their Masters, and are seen to quest, tremble, and start, as Horses will kick and whinney in their sleep. Now all this may be attributed to the affinity and relation betwixt the Souls and Bodies of Brutes, but 'tis quite another thing when the Imagination works upon the Souls of rational men, and not only to the prejudice of their own particular Bodies, but of others also. And as an infected Body communicates its Malady to those that approach, or live near it, as we see in the Plague, the small Pox, and sore Eyes, that run through whole Families and Cities; 

Dum spectant oculi laesos, laeduntur & ipsi: 
Ovid. Amor. l. 2.   
Multáque corporibus transitione nocent.   

Viewing sore eyes, eyes to be sore are brought,  
And many ills are by transition caught.   So the Imagination being vehemently agitated, darts out Infection capable of offending the stranger Object. The Ancients had an opinion of certain Women of Scythia, that being animated and enraged against any one, they killed them only with their looks. Tortoises and Ostriches hatch their Eggs with only looking on them, which infers, that their Eyes have in them some ejaculative virtue. And the eyes of Witches are said to be dangerous and hurtful.  

Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos. 
Virg. Eclog. 3.    

What Eye it is, I do not know,  
My tender Lambs bewitches so.   
Magicians are no very good Authority for me: but we experimentally see, that Women impart the Marks of their Fancy to the Children they carry in their Wombs; witness her that was brought to Bed of a Moor: and there was presented to Charles the Emperor, and King of Bohemia, a Girl from about Pisa, all over rough, and covered with Hair, whom her Mother said to be so conceived by reason of a Picture of St. John Baptist, that hung within the Curtains of her Bed. It is the same with Beasts, witness Jacob's ringstreaked and spotted Goats, and Sheep, and the Hares and Partridges that the Snow turns white upon the Mountains. There was at my House a little while ago, a Cat seen watching a Bird upon the top of a Tree, who for some time mutually fixing their Eyes upon one another, the Bird at last let herself fall as dead into the Cat's Claws, either dazzled and astonished by the Force of her own Imagination, or drawn by some attractive Power of the Cat. Such as are addicted to the Pleasures of the Field, have, I make no question, heard the Story of the Falconer, who having earnestly fixed his Eyes upon a Kite in the Air, laid a Wager, that he would bring her down with the sole Power of Sight, and did so, as it was said; for the Tales I borrow, I charge upon the Consciences of those from whom I have them. The Discourses are my own, and found themselves upon the Proofs of Reason, not of Experience; to which every one has Liberty to add his own Examples: and who has none, (the Number and Varieties of Accidents considered) let him not forbear to believe that these I set down are enough: and if I do not apply them well, let some other do it for me. And also in the Subjects of which I treat, viz. of our Manners and Motions, the Testimonies and Instances I produce, how fabulous soever, provided they are possible, serve as well as the true; whether it has really happened or no, at Rome or at Paris, to Peter or John, 'tis still within the Verge of Possibility, and humane Capacity, which serves me to good use, and supplies me with Variety in the things I write. I see, and make my Advantage of it as well in Shadow as in Substance; and amongst the various Examples I every where meet with in History, I cull out the most rare and memorable to fit my own Turn. There are some Authors whose only end and Design it is, to give an Account of things that have happened; mine, if I could arrive unto it, should be to deliver what may come to pass. There is a just Liberty allowed in the Schools, of supposing and contriving Similes, when they are at a Loss for them in their own Reading: I do not, however, make any use of that Privilege, and as to that Affair in superstitious Religion surpass all Historical Authority. In the Examples which I here bring in, of what I have heard, read, done, or said, I have forbid myself to dare to alter even the most light and indifferent Circumstances: my Conscience does not falsify one Tittle, what my Ignorance may do I cannot say. And this it is that makes me sometimes enter into Dispute with my own Thoughts, whether or no, a Divine, or a Philosopher, Men of so exact and tender Wisdom and Conscience, are fit to write History: for, how can they stake their Reputation upon the Public Faith? how be responsible for the Opinions of Men they do not know? and with what Assurance deliver their Conjectures for current Pay? Of Actions performed before their own Eyes, wherein several Persons were Actors, they would be unwilling to give Evidence upon Oath before a Judge; and cannot be so familiarly and thoroughly acquainted with any for whose Intentions they would become absolute Caution. For my part, I think it less hazardous to write things past, than present, by how much the Writer is only to give an Account of things every one knows he must of necessity borrow upon Trust. I am solicited to write the Affairs of my own Time, by some who fancy I look upon them with an Eye less blinded with Prejudice, or Partiality, than another, and have a clearer Insight into them by reason of the free Access Fortune has given me to the Heads of both Factions: but they do not consider, that to purchase the Glory of Sallust, I would not give myself the Trouble, being a sworn Enemy as I am to all Obligation, Assiduity, and Perseverance: besides that, there is nothing so contrary to my Style, as a continued and extended Narrative, I so often interrupt, and cut myself short in my Writing only for want of Breath. I have neither Fancy, nor Expression worth any thing, and am ignorant beyond a Child, of the Phrases, and even the very Words proper to express the most common things; and for that Reason it is, that I have undertaken to say only what I can say, and have accommodated my Subject to my Force. Should I take one to be my Guide, peradventure I should not be able to keep Pace with him, and in the Precipitancy of my Career might deliver Things, which upon better Thoughts, in my own Judgement, and according to Reason, would be criminal, and punishable in the highest degree. Plutarch would tell us of what he has delivered to the Light, that it is the Work of others, that his Examples are all, and every where exactly true, that they are useful to Posterity, and are presented with a Lustre that will light us the way to Virtue, which was his Design: but it is not of so dangerous consequence as in a Medicinal Drugg, whether an old Story be so or so.   

CHAP. XXI. That the Profit of one Man is the Inconvenience of another.  
DEmades the Athenian, condemned one of his City, whose Trade it was to sell the Necessaries for Funeral Ceremonies, upon Pretence that he demanded unreasonable Profit, and that that Profit could not accrue to him, but by the Death of a great Number of People. A Judgement that appears to be ill grounded, for as much as no Profit whatever can possibly be made but at the Expense of another, and that by the same Rule he should condemn all manner of Gain of what kind soever. The Merchant only thrives, and grows rich, by the Pride, Wantonness, and Debauchery of Youth; the Husbandman by the Price and Scarcity of Grain; the Architect by the Ruin of Buildings; Lawyers, and Officers of Justice, by the Suits and Contentions of Men; nay, even the Honour and Office of Divines are derived from our Death and Vices. A Physician takes no Pleasure in the Health even of his Friends, says the ancient Comical Greek, nor a Soldier in the Peace of his Country, and so of the rest. And, which is yet worse, let every one but dive into his own Bosom, and he will find his private Wishes spring, and his secret Hopes grow up at another's Expense. Upon which Consideration it comes into my Head, that Nature does not in this swerve from her general Polity; for Physicians hold, that the Birth, Nourishment, and Increase of every thing, is the Corruption and Dissolution of another.  

Nam quodcumque suis mutatum finibus exit, 
Lucret. l. 2.   
Continuo hoc mors est illius, quod fuit ante.   

For what from its own Confines charged doth pass,  
Is strait the Death of what before it was.    

CHAP. XXII. Of Custom, and that we should not easily change a Law received.  
HE seems to me to have had a right and true apprehension of the power of Custom, who first invented the Story of a Countrywoman, who having accustomed herself to play with, and carry a young Calf in her Arms, and daily continuing to do so as it grew up, obtained this by Custom, that when grown to be a great Ox she was still able to bear it. For, in truth, Custom is a violent and treacherous School-mistris. She, by little and little, slily, and unperceived, slips in the foot of her Authority, but having by this gentle and humble beginning, with the benefit of Time, fixed and established it, she than unmasks a furious and tyrannic Countenance, against which we have no more the courage or the power so much as to lift up our Eyes. We see it at every turn forcing and violating the Rules of Nature: Vsus efficacissimus rerum omnium magister; 
Plin. l. 6.  Custom is the great Master of all things. I believe Plato's care in his Republic, and the Physicians, who so often submit the Reasons of their Art to the authority of Habit; as also the story of that King, who by Custom brought his Stomach to that pass, as to live by Poison, and the Maid that Albertus reports to have lived upon Spiders; and in that new World of the Indies, there were found great Nations, and in very differing Climates, who were of the same Diet, made provision of them, and fed them for their Tables; as also, they did Grasshoppers, Mice, Bats and Lizards; and in a time of scarcity of such Rarities, a Toad was sold for six Crowns, all which they cook, and dish up with several Sauces. There were also others found, to whom our Diet, and the Flesh we eat were venomous and mortal. Consuetudinis magna vis est: Pernoctant venatores in nive: 
Cicero Tusc. l. 2.  in montibus uri se patiuntur: Pugiles, Caestibus contusi, ne ingemiscunt quidem. The power of Custom is very great: Huntsmen will one while lie out all night in the Snow, and another suffer themselves to be parched in the Mountains; and Fencers, inur'd to beating, when banged almost to pulp with Clubs and Whirde-Bats, disdain so much as to groan. These are strange Examples, but yet they will not appear so strange if we consider what we have ordinary experience of, how much Custom stupifies our Senses; neither need we go to be satisfied of what is reported of the Cataracts of Nile; and of what Philosophers believe of the Music of the Spheres, that the Bodies of those Circles being solid and smooth, and coming to touch, and rub upon one another, cannot fail of creating a wonderful Harmony, the changes and cadencies of which, cause the Revolutions and Dances of the Stars: but that the hearing Sense of all Creatures here below, being universally, like that of the Egyptians, deafed, and stupefied with the continual Noise, cannot, how great soever perceive it. Smiths, Millers, Pewterers, Forge-men, and Armourers, could never be able to live in the perpetual Noise of their own Trades, did it strike their Ears with the same Violence that it does ours. My perfumed Doublet gratifies my own Smelling at first, as well as that of others; but after I have worn it three or four Days together, I no more perceive it; but it is yet more strange, that Custom, notwithstanding the long Intermissions and Intervals, should yet have the Power to unite and establish the Effect of its Impressions upon our Senses, as is manifest in such as live near unto Steeples, and the frequent noise of the Bells. I myself lie at home in a Tower, where every Morning and Evening a very great Bell rings out the Ave Maria, the Noise of which shakes my very Tower, and at first seemed insupportable to me; but having now a good while kept that Lodging, I am so used to't, that I hear it without any manner of Offence, and often without awaking at it. Plato reprehending a Boy for playing at some childish Game, Thou reprov'st me (says the Boy) for a very little thing: Custom (replied Plato) is no little Thing. And he was in the right; for I find that our greatest Vices derive their first Propensity from our most tender Infancy, and that our principal Education depends upon the Nurse. Mother's are mightily pleased to see a Child writhe off the Neck of a Chicken, or to please itself with hurting a Dog or a Cat; and such wise Fathers there are in the World, who look upon it as a notable Mark of a Martial Spirit, when he hears his Son miscall, or sees him domineer over a poor Peasant, or a Lackey, that dares not reply, nor turn again; and a great sign of Wit when he sees him cheat and overreach his Playfellow by some malicious Trick of Treachery and Deceit; but for all that, these are the true Seeds and Roots of Cruelty, Tyranny, and Treason. They bud and put out there, 
Deceit ought to be corrected in the greenest Years.  and afterwards shoot up vigorously, and grow to a prodigious Bulk and Stature, being cultivated and improved by Custom: and it is a very dangerous Mistake to excuse these vile Inclinations upon the Tenderness of their Age, and the triviality of the Subject: first, it is Nature that speaks, whose Declaration is then more sincere, and inward Thoughts more undisguised, as it is more weak and young: secondly, the Deformity of Cozenage does not consist, nor depend upon the Difference betwixt Crowns and Pins; but merely upon itself, for a Cheat is a Cheat be it more or less; which makes me think it more just to conclude thus, Why should he not cozen in Crowns since he does it in Pins, than as they do, who say, they only play for Pins, he would not do it if it were for Money. Children should carefully be instructed to abhor even the Vices of their own contriving; and the natural Deformity of those Vices ought so to be represented to them, that they may not only avoid them in their Actions, but especially so to abominate them in their Hearts, that the very Thought should be hateful to them, with what Mask soever they may be palliated or disguised. I know very well, for what concerns myself, that for having been brought up in my Childhood to a plain, and sincere way of dealing, and for having then had an Aversion to all manner of juggling and foul Play in my Childish Sports and Recreations (and indeed it is to be noted, that the Plays of Children are not performed in Play, but are to be judged in them as their most serious Actions) there is no Game so small wherein from my own Bosom naturally, and without study or endeavour, I have not an extreme Aversion for Deceit. I shuffle, and cut, and make as much clatter with the Cards, and keep as strict Account for Farthings, as it were for double Pistols, when winning or losing against my Wife and Daughter is indifferent to me, as when I play in good earnest with others for the roundest Sums. At all Times, and in all Places, my own Eyes are sufficient to look to my Fingers; I am not so narrowly watched by any other, neither is there any I more fear to be discovered by, or to offend.  
I saw the other day, at my own House, a little Fellow who came to show himself for Money, a Native of Nants, born without Arms, who has so well taught his Feet to perform the Services his Hands should have done him, that indeed they have half forgot their natural Office, and the use for which they were designed; the Fellow too calls them his Hands, and we may allow him so to do, for with them he cuts any thing, charges and discharges a Pistol, threads a Needle, Sows, Writes, and puts off his Hat, combs his Head, plays at Cards and Dice, and ●ll this with as much Dexterity as any other could do who had more, and more proper Limbs to assist him; and the Money I gave him he carried away in his Foot, as we do in our Hand. I have seen another, who being yet a Boy, flourished a two-handed Sword, and (if I may so say) handled a Halberd with the mere Motions and Writhing of his Neck and Shoulders for want of hands, tossed them into the Air, and catched them again, darted a Dagger, and cracked a Whip as well as any Coachman in France. But the Effects of Custom are much more manifest in the strange Impressions she imprints in our Minds, where she meets with less Resistance, and has nothing so hard a Game to play. What has she not the Power to impose upon our Judgements and Belief? Is there any so fantastic Opinion (omitting the gross Impostures of Religions, with which we see so many populous Nations, and so many understanding men, so strangely besotted; for this being beyond the reach of Humane Reason, any Error is more excusable in such as through the Divine Bounty are not endued with an extraordinary Illumination from above) but of other Opinions are there any so senseless and extravagant, that she has not planted and established for Laws in those Parts of the World upon which she has been pleased to exercise her Power? And therefore that ancient Exclamation was exceeding just, 
Cicero de Natu. Deor.  Non pudet Physicum, id est speculatorem, venatorémque naturae, ab animis consuetudine imbutis quaerere testimonium veritatis? Is it not a Shame for a Philosopher, that is, for an Observer and Hunter of Nature, to derive Testimony from Minds prepossessed with Custom? I do believe, that no so absurd or ridiculous Fancy can enter into Humane Imagination, that does not meet with some Example of Public Practice, and that consequently our Reason does not ground, and support itself upon. There are People, amongst whom it is the Fashion to turn their Backs upon him they salute, and never look upon the Man they intent to honour. There is a place, where, whenever the King spits, the greatest Ladies of his Court put out their hands to receive it; and another Nation, where the most eminent Persons about him stoop to take up his Ordure in a Linnen-cloth. Let us here steal room to insert a Story. A French Gentleman, of my acquaintance, was always wont to blow his Nose with his Fingers, (a thing very much against our Fashion) would justify himself for so doing, and was a man very famous for pleasant Repertees, who, upon that occasion, asked me, what Privilege this filthy Excrement had, that we must carry about us a fine Handkerchief to receive it, and which was more, afterwards to lap it carefully up, and carry it all day about in our Pockets, which, he said, could not but be much more nauseous and offensive, than to see it thrown away, as we did all other Evacuations. I found that what he said was not altogether without Reason, and by being frequently in his Company, that slovenly action of his was at last grown familiar to me; which nevertheless we make a face at, when we hear it reported of another Country. Miracles appear to be so, according to our ignorance of Nature, and not according to the Essence of Nature. The continually being accustomed to any thing, blinds the eye of our Judgement. Barbarians are no more a wonder to us, than we are to them; nor with any more reason, as every one would confess, if after having travelled over those remote Examples, Men could settle themselves to reflect upon, and rightly to confer them. Humane Reason is a Tincture equally infused almost into all our Opinions and Customs, of what form soever they are, infinite in Matter, infinite in Diversity. But I return to my Subject.  
There are a People, where (his Wife and Children excepted) no one speaks to the King but through a Trunk. In one and the same Nation the Virgins discover those Parts that Modesty should persuade them to hide, and the married Women carefully cover and conceal. To which, this Custom in another Place has some Relation, where Chastity, but in Marriage, is of no Esteem, for unmarried Women may prostitute themselves to as many as they please, and being got with Child, may lawfully take Physic in the sight of every one to destroy their Fruit. And in another Place, if a Tradesman marry, all of the same Condition, who are invited to the Wedding, lie with the Bride before him; and the greater number of them there is, the greater is her Honour, and the Opinion of her Ability and Strength: if an Officer marry, 'tis the same, the same with a Nobleman, and so of the rest, excepting it be a Labourer, or one of mean Condition, for than it belongs to the Lord of the Place to perform that Office; and yet a severe Loyalty during Marriage is afterward strictly enjoined. There is a place where Bawdy-houses of Youngmen are kept for the Pleasure of Women, as we know there are of Women for the Necessities of Men; and also Marriages, where the Wives go to War as well as the Husbands, and not only share in the dangers of Battle, but moreover in the Honours of Command. Others, where they wear Rings not only through their Noses, Lips, Cheeks, and on their Toes, but also weighty Gymmals of Gold thrust through their Paps and Buttocks: Where, in eating, they wipe their Fingers upon their Thighs, Genitories, and the Soles of their Feet: Where Children are excluded and Brothers and Nephews only inherit; and elsewhere, Nephews only, saving in the Royal Family, and the Succession of the Crown: where, for the Regulation of Community in Goods and Estates observed in the Country, certain Sovereign Magistrates have committed to them the universal Charge, and over-seeing of the Agriculture, and Distribution of the Fruits according to the Necessity of every one: Where they lament the Death of Children, and Feast at the Decease of old Men: Where they lie ten or twelve in a Bed, Men and their Wives together: Where Women, whose Husbands come to violent Ends, may marry again, and others not: Where the servile Condition of Women is looked upon with such Contempt, that they kill all the native Females, and buy Wives of their Neighbours to supply their Use; Where Husbands may repudiate their Wives, without showing any Cause, but Wives cannot part from their Husbands, for what cause soever. Where Husbands may sell their Wives in case of sterility; Where they boil the Bodies of their dead, and afterwards pound them to a pulp, which they mix with their Wine, and drink it; Where the most coveted Sepulture is to be eaten with Dogs, and elsewhere by Birds; Where they believe the Souls of the happy live in all manner of Liberty, in delightful Fields, furnished with all sorts of Delicacies, and that it is those Souls, repeating the words we utter, which we call Echo. Where they fight in the Water, and shoot their Arrows with the most mortal Aim, swimming; Where, for a sign of Subjection, they lift up their Shoulders, and hang down their Heads, and put off their shoes when they enter the King's Palace. Where the Eunuches, who take charge of the Religious Women, have moreover their Lips and Noses cut away, and disguised, that they may not be loved; and the Priests put out their own Eyes, to be better acquainted, with their Daemons, and the better to receive and retain their Oracles; Where every one creates to himself a Deity of what he likes best, according to his own Fancy; the Hunter, a Lion or a Fox, the Fisher, some certain Fish, and Idols of every Humane Action or Passion; in which place the Sun, the Moon, and the Earth are the principal Deities, and the form of taking an Oath is, to touch the Earth, looking up to Heaven; and there both Flesh and Fish is eaten raw; Where the greatest Oath they take is, to swear by the Name of some dead Person of Reputation, laying their hand upon his Tomb; Where the New-year's Gift the King sends every Year to the Princes, his Subjects, is Fire, which being brought, all the old Fire is put out, and the neighbouring People are bound to fetch of the new, every one for themselves, upon pain of Treason; Where, when the King, to betake himself wholly to Devotion, retires from his Administration, (which often falls out) his next Successor is obliged to do the same; by which means the Right of the Kingdom devolves to the third in Succession; Where they vary the Form of Government, according to the seeming necessity of Affairs; Depose the King when they think good, substituting ancient men to govern in his stead, and sometimes transferring it into the hands of the Common-People; Where Men and Women are both Circumcised and also Baptised; Where the Soldier, who in one, or several Engagements, has been so fortunate, as to present seven of the Enemy's Heads to the King, is made noble: where they live in that rare and singular Opinion of the Mortality of the Soul: Where the Women are delivered without Pain or Fear: Where the Women wear Copper Fetters upon both their Legs, and if a Louse bite them, are bound in Magnanimity to bite them again, and dare not marry till first they have made their King a Tender of their Virginity, if he please to accept it: Where the ordinary way of Salutation is by putting a Finger down to the Earth, and then pointing it up towards Heaven: Where Men carry Burdens upon their Heads, and Women on their Shoulders, the Women pissing standing, and the Men cowering down: Where they send their Blood in token of Friendship, and unsee the men they would nour, like Gods: Where not only to the fourth, but in any other remote Degree, Kindred are not permitted to marry: Where the Children are four Years at Nurse, and sometimes twelve; in which Place also it is accounted mortal to give the Child suck the first day after it is born: Where the Correction of the male Children is peculiarly designed to the Fathers, and to the Mothers of the Females; the Punishment being to hang them by the Heels in the Smoke: Where they eat all sorts of Herbs, without other Scruple, than of the Illness of the Smell: Where all things are open, the finest Houses, and that are furnished with the richest Furniture, without Doors, Windows, Trunks, or Chests to lock, a Thief being there punished double to what they are in other Places: Where they crack Lice with their Teeth like Monkeys, and abhor to see them killed with ones Nails: Where in all their Lives they neither cut their Hair, nor pair their Nails; and in another Place, pair those of the Right-hand only, letting the left grow for Ornament and Bravery: Where they suffer the Hair on the right side to grow as long as it will, and shave the other; and in the neighbouring Provinces, some let their Hair grow long before, and some behind, shaving close the rest: Where Parents let out their Children, and Husbands their Wives, to their Guests to hire: Where a Man may get his own Mother with Child, and Fathers make use of their own Daughters, or their Sons, without Scandal or Offence: Where at their solemn Feasts they interchangeably lend their Children to one another, without any consideration of Nearness of Blood. In one Place Men feed upon Humane Flesh, in another, 'tis reputed a charitable Office for a Man to kill his Father at a certain Age; and elsewhere, the Father's dispose of their Children whilst yet in their Mother's Wombs, some to be preserved and carefully brought up, and others they proscribe either to be thrown off, or made away. Elsewhere the old Husbands lend their Wives to Youngmen; and in another place they are in common, without offence; in one place particularly, the Women take it for a mark of Honour to have as many gay fringed Tassels at the bottom of their Garment, as they have lain with several men. Moreover, has not Custom made a Republic of Women separately by themselves? Has it not put Arms into their Hands, made them to raise Armies, and fight Battles? and does she not by her own Precept instruct the most ignorant Vulgar, and make them perfect in things which all the Philosophy in the World could never beat into the Heads of the wisest men? For we know entire Nations, where Death was not only despised, but entertained with the greatest Triumph; where Children of seven years old offered themselves to be whipped to death, without changing their Countenance; where Riches was in such Contempt, that the poorest and most wretched Citizen would not have deigned to stoop to take up a Purse of Crowns. And we know Regions very fruitful in all manner of Provisions, where, notwithstanding the most ordinary Diet, and that they are most pleased with, is only Bread, Cresses, and Water. Did not Custom moreover work that Miracle in Chios, that of seven hundred Years it was never known, that ever Maid or Wife committed any act to the prejudice of her Honour? To conclude; there is nothing in my opinion, that she does not, or may not do; and therefore with very good reason it is, that Pindar calls her the Queen, and Empress of the World. He that was seen to beat his Father, and reproved for so doing, made answer, that it was the Custom of their Family; that in like manner his Father had beaten his Grandfather, his Grandfather his great Grandfather, and this, says he, pointing to his Son, when he comes to my Age, shall beat me. And the Father, whom the Son dragged and haled along the streets, commanded him to stop at a certain Door, for he himself, he said, had dragged his Father no farther, that being the utmost limit of the hereditary Insolence the Sons used to practice upon the Fathers in their Family. It is as much by Custom as Infirmity, (says Aristotle) that Women tear their Hair, by't their Nails, and eat Coals, Chalk, and such Trash, and more by Custom than Nature, that men abuse themselves with one another. The Laws of Conscience, which we pretend to be derived from Nature, proceed from Custom; every one having an inward Veneration for the Opinions and Manners, approved and received amongst his own People, cannot without very great Reluctancy depart from them, nor apply himself to them without applause. In times past, when those of Crect would curse any one, they prayed the Gods to engage them in some ill Custom. But the principal effect of the power of Custom is, so to seize and ensnare us, that it is hardly in our power to disengage ourselves from its gripe; or so to come to ourselves, as to consider of, and to weigh the things it enjoins. To say the truth, by reason that we suck it in with our Milk, and that the face of the World presents itself in this posture to our first sight, it seems as if we were born upon condition to pursue this Practice; and the common Fancies that we find in repute every where about us, and infused into our Minds with the Seed of our Fathers, appear to be most universal and genuine. From whence it comes to pass, that whatever is off the hinge of Custom, is believed to be also off the hinges of Reason; and how unreasonably for the most part, God knows. If, as we who study ourselves, have learned to do, every one who hears a good Sentence, would immediately consider how it does any way touch his own private Concern, every one would find, that it was not so much a good Saying, as a severe Lash to the ordinary Bestiality of his own Judgement: but men receive the Precepts and Admonitions of Truth, as generally directed to the Common Sort, and never particularly to themselves; and instead of applying them to their own manners, do only very ignorantly and unprofitably commit them to memory, without suffering themselves to be at all instructed, or converted by them; But let us return to the Empire of Custom. Such People as have been bred up to Liberty, and subject to no other Dominion but the authothority of their own Will, every one being a Sovereign to himself, 
Democracy.  or at least governed by no wiser Heads than their own, do look upon all other Form of Government as monstrous, and contrary to Nature. 
Monarchy.  Those who are inur'd to Monarchy do the same; and what opportunity soever Fortune presents them with to change, even then, when with the greatest difficulties they have disengaged themselves from one Master, that was troublesome and grievous to them, they presently run, with the same difficulties, to create another; being not able, how roughly dealt with soever, to hate the Government they were born under, and the obedience they have so long been accustomed to. 'Tis by the mediation and persuasion of Custom, that every one is content with the place where he is planted by Nature; and the High-landers of Scotland no more pant after the better Air of Tourain, than the starved Scythian after the delightful Fields of Thessaly. Darius' ask certain Greeks what they would take to assume the Custom of the Indians, of eating the dead Corpse of their Fathers, (for that was their Use, believing they could not give them a better, nor more noble Sepulture, than to bury them in their own Bodies) they made answer, That nothing in the World should hire them to do it; but having also tried to persuade the Indians to leave their barbarous Custom, and, after the Greek manner, to burn the Bodies of their Fathers, they conceived a much greater horror at the motion. Every one does the same, for as much as Use veils from us the true Aspect of things.  


Lucret. l. 2  Nil adeo magnum, nec tam mirabile quicquam  
Principio, quod non minuant mirarier omnes Paulatim.   

Nothing at first so great, so strange appears,  
Which by degrees, Use in succeeding Years  
Renders not more familiar.   
Taking upon me once to justify something in use amongst us, and that was received with absolute Authority for a great many Leagues round about us, and not content, as men commonly do, to establish it only by force of Law, and Example, but enquiring still farther into its Original, I found the foundation so weak, that I who made it my business to confirm others, was very near being dissatisfied myself. 'Tis by this Receipt that Plato undertakes to cure this unnatural and preposterous Loves of his Time, which he esteems of sovereign Virtue; namely, That the public Opinion condemns them; That the Poets, and all other sorts of Writers, relate horrible Stories of them. A Recipe, by virtue of which the most beautiful Daughters no more allure their Father's Lust; nor Brothers of the finest Shape and Fashion their Sister's desire. The very Fables of Thyestes, Oedipus, and Macareus, having with the Harmony of their Song infused this wholesome Opinion and Belief into the tender Brains of Infants. Chastity is in truth a great and shining Virtue, and of which the Utility is sufficiently known; but to govern, and prevail with it according to Nature, is as hard, as 'tis easy to do it according to Custom, and the Laws and Precepts of sober Practice. The original and fundamental Reasons are of very obscure and difficult search, and our Masters either lightly pass them over, or not daring so much as to touch them, precipitate themselves into the Liberty and Protection of Custom: such as will not suffer themselves to be withdrawn from this original Source, do yet commit a greater Error, and submit themselves to wild and beastly Opinions; witness Chrysippus, who in so many of his Writings has strewed the little Account he made of incestuous Conjunctions, committed with how near Relations soever. Whoever would disengage himself from this violent Prejudice of Custom, would find several things received with absolute and undoubting Opinion, that have no other Support than the hoary Head and riveled Face of ancient Use; and things being referred to the Decision of Truth and Reason, he will find his Judgement convinced and overthrown, and yet restored to a much more sure Estate. For Example, I shall ask him, what can be more strange than to see a People obliged to obey and pay a Reverence to Laws they never understood, and to be bound in all their Affairs, both of private and public Concern, as Marriages, Donations, Wills, Sales, and Purchases, to Rules they cannot possibly know, being neither writ nor published in their own Language, and of which they are of Necessity to purchase both the Interpretation and the Use? Not according to the ingenious Opinion of Socrates, who counselled his King to make the Trafficks and Negotiations of his Subjects, free, frank, and of Profit to them, and their Quarrels and Debates burdensome, and tart, and loaden with heavy Impositions and Penalties; but by a prodigious Opinion to make sale of Reason itself, and to allow the Law a course of Traffic. I think myself obliged to Fortune that (as our Historians report) it was a Gascon Gentleman, a Countryman of mine, who first opposed Charlemagne, when he attempted to impose upon us Latin and Imperial Laws. What can be more severe or unjust, than to see a Nation, where, by lawful Custom, the Office of a Judge is to bought and sold, where Judgements are paid for with ready Money, and where Justice may legally be denied to him that has not wherewithal to pay; a Merchandise in so great Repute, as in a Government to serve a fourth Estate of wrangling Lawyers, to add to the three ancient ones of the Church, Nobility, and People; which fourth Estate, having the Laws in their hands, and sovereign Power over men's Lives and Fortunes, make another separate Body of Nobility: from whence it comes to pass, that there are double Laws, those of Honour, and those of Justice, in many things positively opposite to one another, the Nobles as rigorously condemning a Lie taken, as the other do a Lie revenged: By the Law of Arms, he shall be degraded from all Nobility and Honour who puts up an Affront; and by the Civil Law, he who vindicates his Reputation by Revenge incurs a Capital Punishment: who applies himself to the Law for Reparation of an Offence done to his Honour, disgraces himself; and who does not, is censured and punished by the Law. Yet of these two so different things, both of them referring to one Head, the one has the Charge of Peace, the other of War; those have the Profit, these the Honour; those the Wisdom, these the Virtue; those the Word, these the Action; those Justice, these Valour; those Reason these Force, those the long Robe, these the short divided betwixt them.  
For what concerns indifferent things, as clothes, who would debauch them from their true and real use, which is the Body's Service and Convenience, and upon which their original Grace and Decency depend, for the most fantastic, in my Opinion, that can be imagined? I will instance amongst others, our flat Caps, that long Tail of Velvet that hangs down from our women's Heads, and that lascivious and abominable model of a Member we cannot in Modesty so much as name, which nevertheless we shamefully strut withal in public. These Considerations notwithstanding will not prevail upon any understanding Man to decline the common Mode; but on the contrary, methinks all singular and particular Fashions are rather marks of Folly and vain Affection, than of sound Reason, and that a wise man ought within to withdraw and retire his Soul from the Crowd, and there keep it at Liberty, and in Power to judge freely of things; but as to this outward Garb and Appearance, absolutely to follow and conform himself to the Fashion of the Time. Public Society has nothing to do with our Thoughts, but the rest, as our Actions, our Labours, our Fortunes, and our Lives, we are to lend and abandon them to the common Opinion and Public Service, as did that good and great Socrates who refused to preserve his Life by a Disobedience to the Magistrate, though a very wicked and unjust one: for it is the Rule of Rules, and the general Law of Laws, that every one observe those of the Place wherein he lives. 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

The Country's Customs to observe  
Is decent, and does Praise deserve.   Besides, it is a very great doubt, whether any so manifest Benefit and Advantage can accrue from the Alteration of a Law or Custom received, let it be what it will, as there is Danger and Inconvenience in doing it; forasmuch as Government is a Structure composed of several Parts and Members joined and united together, with so strict Affinity and Union, that it is almost impossible to stir so much as one Brick or Stone, but the whole Body will settle and be sensible of it. The Legislator of the Thurians ordained, That whosoever would go about either to abolish old Laws, or to establish new, should present himself with a Halter about his Neck to the People, to the end, that if the Innovation he would introduce should not be approved by every one, he might immediately be hanged; and that of the Lacedæmonians made it the Business of his whole Life, to obtain from his Citizens a faithful Promise, that none of his Laws should be violated. The Ephorus who so rudely cut the two Strings that Phrynis had added to Music, never stood to examine whether that Addition made better Harmony, or that by that means the Instrument was more full and complete; it was enough to him to condemn the Invention, that it was a Novelty, and an Alteration of the old Fashion. Which also is the Meaning of the old rusty Sword carried before the Magistracy of Marcelles. For my own part, I have myself a very great Aversion for Novelty, what Face, or what Pretence soever it may carry along with it, and have reason, having been an Eye-witness of the great Inconveniences it has produced. A man cannot, I confess, truly say, That the Miseries, which for so many Years have lain so heavy upon the Kingdom of France, are wholly occasioned by it; but a Man may say, and with colour enough, that it has accidentally produced and begot both the Mischiefs and Ruins that are since continued both without and against it, and it principally that we are to accuse for these Disorders.  


Ovid. in Ep.  Heu patior telis vulnera facta meis.   

Alas! the Wounds I now endure  
Which my own Weapons did procure.   
They who give the first shock to a State, are voluntarily the first overwhelmed in its Ruin; the Fruits of public Commotion are seldom enjoyed by him who was the first Motor, he only troubles the Water for another's Net, and beats the Bush whilst another gets the Hare. The Unity and Contexture of this Monarchy, having been manifestly in her old Age ripped and torn by this thing called Innovation, has since laid open a Rent, and given sufficient Admittance to the like Injuries in these latter Times. The Royal Majesty does with greater Difficult stoop and debase itself from the height to the Middle, than it falls and tumbles headlong from the Middle to the Foundation. But if the Inventors did the greater mischief, the Imitators are more vicious, to follow Examples of which they have felt, and punished both the Horror and the Offence. And if there can be any degree of Horror in ill doing, these last are indebted to the other for the Glory of contriving, and the Courage of making the first Attempt. All sorts of new Disorder easily draw from this primitive and overflowing Fountain, Examples and Precedents to trouble and discompose our Government. We read in our very Laws made for the remedy of this first Evil, the Beginning and Pretences of all sorts of naughty Erterprises; and in favour of public Vices, give them new and more plausible Names for their Excuse, sweetening and disguising their true Titles, which must be done to win forsooth, and reclaim us, Honesta oratio est: but the best Pretence for Innovation is of very dangerous Consequence; and freely to speak my Thoughts, it argues methinks a strange self Love, and a great Presumption of a Man's self, to be so fond of his own Opinions, that a public Peace must be overthrown to establish them, and to introduce so many inevitable Mischiefs, and so dreadful a Corruption of Manners, as a Civil War, and the Mutations of State consequent to it, always brings in its Train; and to introduce them in a thing of so high Concern, into the Bowels of a Man's own Country. Can there be worse Husbandry than to set up so many certain and detected Vices against Errors, that are only contested, and disputable whether they be such or no? And are there any worse sorts of Vices than those committed against a man's own Conscience, and the natural Light of his own Reason? The Senate, upon the Dispute betwixt it and the People about the Administration of their Religion, was bold enough to return this Evasion for current Pay: Ad Deos, id magis quam ad se pertinere: ipsos visuros, ne sacra sua polluantur: That those things more belong to the Gods to determine, than to them, let them therefore have a care their sacred Mysteries were not profaned: according to that the Oracle answered to those of Delphos, who, fearing to be invaded by the Persians, in the Median War, enquired of Apollo, how they should dispose of the holy Treasure of his Temple, whether they should hide, or remove it to some other Place? He returned them Answer, that they should stir nothing from thence, and only take care of themselves, for he was sufficient to look to what belonged to him. Christian Religion has all the Marks of the utmost Utility and Justice: but none more manifest than the severe Injunction it lays indifferently upon all to yield absolute Obedience to the Civil Magistrate, and to maintain and defend the Laws: of which, what a wonderful Example has the Divine Wisdom left us, who, to work and establish the Salvation of Mankind, and to conduct this his glorious Victory over Death and Sin, would do it after no other way, but at the Mercy of our ordinary forms of Justice, submitting the Progress and Issue of so high, and so salutiferous an Effect, to the blindness, and injustice of our Customs and Observations, suffering the innocent Blood of so many of his Elect, and so long a loss of so many Years to the maturing of this inestimable Fruit? There is a vast difference betwixt the Cases of one that follows the Forms and Laws of his Country, and another that will undertake to regulate and change them; of which the first pleads Simplicity, Obedience, and Example for his Excuse, who, what ever he shall do, it cannot be imputed to Malice, 'tis at the worst but Mifortune. Quis est enim, quem non moveat clarissimis monumentis testata, 
Cicero de Divin. 1.  consignataque antiquitas? For who is it that Antiquity, sealed, and attested with so many glorious Monuments cannot move? Besides what Isocrates says, that Defect is nearer allied to Moderation than Excess. The other is a much more ruffling Gamester: for whosoever shall take upon him to choose, to alter, and usurp the Authority of judging, aught to look well about him, and make it his Business to discover the Defect of what he would abolish, and the virtue of what he is about to introduce. This so easy, and so vulgar consideration, is that which settled me in my Station, and kept even my most extravagant and ungoverned Youth under the rain, so as not to burden my Shoulders with so great a weight, as to render myself responsible for a Science of that importance; and in this to dare, what in my better, and more mature Judgement, I durst not do in the most easy, and indifferent things I had been instructed in, and wherein the temerity of judging is of no consequence at all. It seeming to me very unjust to go about to subject public and established Customs and Institutions, to the weakness, and instability of a private and particular Fancy, (for private Reason is but a private Jurisdiction) and to attempt that upon the Divine, which no Government will endure a Man should do upon the Civil Laws. With which, though humane Reason has much more Commerce, than with the other; yet are they sovereignly judged by their own proper Judges, and the utmost sufficiency, serves only to expound, and set forth the Law, and Custom received, and neither to wrest it, nor to introduce any thing of Innovation. And if sometimes the Divine Providence have gone beyond the Rules, to which it has necessarily bound, and obliged us Men; it is not to give us any Dispensation to do the same; those are only master strokes of the Divine hand, which we are not to imitate, but admire, and extraordinary Examples, marks of purposed, and particular Testimonies of Power, of the Nature of Miracles, presented before us for Manifestations of its Almighty Operation, equally above both our Rules and Forces, which it would be Folly, and Impiety to attempt to represent and imitate; and that we ought not to follow, but to contemplate with the greatest Reverence and Astonishment. Arts proper for his Person who has Power to do them, and not for us. Cotta very opportunely declares, that when Matter of Religion is in question, he will be governed by T. Coruncanus, P. Scipio, P. Scaevola, who were the High Priests, and not by Zeno, Cleanthes, or Chrysippus, who were Philosophers. God knows in the present Quarrel of our Civil War, where there are a hundred Articles to dash out and to put in, and these great and very considerable ones too, how many there are who can truly boast, they have exactly and perfectly weighed and understood the grounds and Reasons of the one and the other Party. 'Tis a Number (if it make any number) that would be able to procure us very little Disturbance: but what becomes of all the rest, under what Ensigns do they march, in what Quarter do they lie? Theirs have the same Effect with other weak and ill applied Medicines, they have only set the Humours they would Purge, more violently in working, stirred and exasperated them by the Conflict, and left them still behind. The Aposeme was too weak to Purge, but strong enough to weaken us; so that it does not work, but we keep it still in our Bodies, and reap nothing from the Operation but intestine Gripes and Dolours; so it is nevertheless, that Fortune still reserving her Authority in Defiance of whatever we are able to do or say, does sometimes present us with a Necessity so urgent, that 'tis requisite the Laws should a little yield, and give way; and when one opposes the Increase of an Innovation that thus intrudes itself by Violence, to keep a Man's self in so doing in all Places, and in all things, within the Bounds and Rules prescribed, against those who have the Power, and to whom all Things are lawful, that may any way serve to advance their Design, who have no other Law nor Rule but what serves best to their own Purpose; is a dangerous Obligation, and an intolerable Inequality.  

Aditum nocendi perfido praestat fides.   

So simple Truth does her fair Breast disarm, 
Seneca in Oedip. Act. 3. Scen. 1.   
And gives to Treachery a Power to harm.   
Forasmuch as the ordinary Discipline of a healthful State does not provide against these extraordinary Accidents, she presupposes a Body that supports itself in its principal Members and Offices, and a common Consent to its Obedience and Observation. A legal Proceeding is cold, heavy, and constrained, and not fit to make Head against a headstrong and unbridled Proceeding. 'Tis known to be to this day cast in the Dish of those two great Men, Octavius and Cato, in the two Civil Wars of Scylla and Caesar, that they would rather suffer their Country to undergo the last Extremities, than to relieve their Fellow-Citizens at the Expense of its Laws, or to be guilty of any Innovation; for in truth, in these last Necessities, where there is no other Remedy, it would peradventure be more discreetly done, to stoop, and yield a little to receive the Blow, than by opposing without Possibility or doing any good, to give occasion to Violence to trample all under foot; and better to make the Laws do what they can, when they cannot do what they would. After this manner did he who suspended them for four and twenty Hours, and he who for once shifted a Day in the Calendar, and that other who in the Month of June made a Second of May. The Lacedæmonians themselves, who were so religious Observers of the Laws of their Country, being straitened by one of their own Edicts, by which it was expressly forbidden to choose the same Man to be Admiral; and on the other side, their Affairs necessarily requiring, that Lysander should again take upon him that Command, they made one Aratus Admiral, 'tis true, but withal, Lysander went Superintendent of the Navy. And by the same Subtlety and Equivocation, one of their Ambassadors being sent to the Athenians to obtain the Revocation of some Decree, and Pericles remonstrating to him, that it was forbid to take away the Tablet wherein a Law had once been engrossed, he advised him to turn it only, that being not forbidden at all; and Plutarch commends Philopoemen, that being born to Command, he knew how to do it, not only according to the Laws, but also to overrule even the Laws themselves, when the public Necessity so required.   

CHAP. XXIII. Various Events from the same Counsel.  
JAques Amiot, great Almoner of France, one day related to me this Story, much to the Honour of a Prince of ours (and ours he is upon several very good Accounts, though originally of Foreign Extraction) that in the time of our first Commotions at the Siege of Roüen, this Prince, having been advertised by the Queen-Mother of a Conspiracy against his Life, and in her Letters particular notice being given him of the Person who was to execute the Business, (who was a Gentleman of Anjou, or else of Main, and who to this Effect did frequently haunt this Prince's House) discovered not a Syllable of this Intelligence to any one whatever, but going the next day to St. Katherine's Mount, from whence our Battery played against the Town (for it was during the Time of a Siege) and having in Company with him the said Lord Almoner, and another Bishop, he was presently aware of this Gentleman, who had been denoted to him, and presently caused him to be called to his Presence; to whom, being come before him, seeing him pale, and trembling with the Conscience of his Gild, he thus said, Monsieur such a one, You already guests what I have to say to you, your Countenance discovers it, and therefore 'tis in vain to disguise your Practice; for I am so well informed of your Business, that it will but make worse for you, to go about to conceal or to deny it: you know very well such and such Passages, (which were the most secret Circumstances of his Conspiracy) and therefore be sure, as you tender your own Life, to confess to me the whole Truth of your Design. The poor Man seeing himself thus trapped, and convinced (for the whole Business had been discovered to the Queen by one of the Complices) was in such a Taking, he knew not what to do; but joining his Hands to beg and sue for Mercy, he meant to throw himself at this Prince's Feet, who taking him up, proceeded to say, Come on Sir, and tell me, have I at any time heretofore done you any Injury? or have I, through my particular Hatred or private Malice, offended any Kinsman or Friend of yours? It is not above three Weeks that I have known you; What Inducement then could move you to attempt my Death? To which the Gentleman, with a trembling Voice, replied, That it was no particular Grudge he had to his Person, but the general Interest and Concern of his Party, and that he had been put upon it by some who had persuaded him it would be a meritorious Act, by any means to extirpate so great and so powerful an Enemy of their Religion. Well, said the Prince, I will now let you see, how much more charitable the Religion is that I maintain, than that which you profess; Yours has persuaded you to kill me, without hearing me speak, and without ever having given you any cause of Offence; and mine commands me to forgive you, convict as you are, by your own Confession, of a Design to murder me without Reason. Get you gone, that I see you no more; and if you are wise, choose henceforward honester Men for your Counsellors in your Designs. The Emperor Augustus, being in Gaul, had certain information of a Conspiracy L. Cinna was contriving against him, who thereupon resolved to make him an Example; and to that end sent to summon his Friends to meet the next morning in Counsel; but the night between he passed over with great unquietness of Mind, considering that he was to put to death a young man, of an illustrious Family, and Nephew to the great Pompey, which made him break out into several ejaculations of Passion: What then, said he, Shall it be said, that I shall live in perpetual Anxiety, and continual Alarm, and suffer my Assassinates in the mean time to walk abroad at Liberty? Shall he go unpunished after having conspired against my Life, a Life that I have hitherto defended in so many Civil Wars, and so many Battles both by Land and Sea? And after having settled the Universal Peace of the whole World, shall this man be pardoned, who has conspired not only to Murder, but to Sacrifice me? For the Conspiracy was to kill him at Sacrifice. After which, remaining for some time silent, he re-begun louder, and straining his Voice more than before to exclaim against himself, and say, Why liv'st thou? If it be for the good of many that thou shouldst Die? must there be no end of thy Revenges and Cruelties? Is thy Life of so great value, that so many Mischiefs must be done to preserve it? His Wife Livia, seeing him in this perplexity; Will you take a Woman's Counsel, said she? Do as the Physicians do, who, when the ordinary Recipes will do no good, make Trial of the contrary. By severity you have hitherto prevailed nothing; Lepidus has followed Savidienus, Murena Lepidus, Caepio Murena, and Egnatius Caepio. Begin now, and try how Sweetness and Clemency will succeed. Cinna is convict, forgive him, he will never henceforth have the Heart to hurt thee, and it will be an Act of Glory. Augustus was glad that he had met with an Advocate of his own Humour; wherefore, having thanked his Wife, and in the Morning countermanded his Friends he had before summoned to Council, he commanded Cinna all alone to be brought to him; who being accordingly come, and a Chair by his Appointment set him, having commanded every one out of the Room, he spoke to him after this manner: In the first place, Cinna, I demand of thee patient Audience; do not interrupt me in what I am about to say, and I will afterwards give thee Time and Leisure to answer. Thou knowst, Cinna, that having taken thee Prisoner in the Enemy's Camp, and that an Enemy not only made, but born so, I gave thee thy Life, restored thee all thy Goods, and finally put thee in so good a posture, by my Bounty, of living well, and at thy ease, that the Victorious envied the Conquered. The Sacerdotal Office which thou mad'st Suit to me for, I conferred upon thee, after having denied it to others, whose Fathers have ever borne Arms in my Service: and after so many Obligations thou hast undertaken to kill me. At which Cinna crying out, that he was very far from entertaining any so wicked a Thought; Thou dost not keep thy Promise, Cinna, (continued Augustus) that thou wouldst not interrupt me. Yes, thou hast undertaken to murder me in such a Place, such a Day, in such and such Company, and in such a Manner. At which Words seeing Cinna astonished and silent, not upon the Account of his Promise so to be, but interdict with the Conscience of his Crime; Why, proceeded Augustus, to what end wouldst thou do it? Is it to be Emperor? Believe me, the Republic is in a very ill Condition, if I am the only Man betwixt thee and the Empire. Thou art not able so much as to defend thy own House, and but t'other day wast baffled in a Suit, by the opposed Interest of a mean manumitted Slave. What, hast thou neither Means nor Power in any other thing, but only to attempt against Caesar? I quit claim to the Empire, if there is no other but I to obstruct thy Hopes. Canst thou believe, that Paulus, that Fabius, that the Cassians and Servilians, and so many Noble Romans, not only so in Title, but who by their Virtue honour their Nobility, would suffer or endure thee? After this, and a great deal more that he said to him, (for he was two long Hours in speaking) Well, Cinna, go thy way, said he, I again give thee that Life in the Quality of a Traitor and a Parricide, which I once before gave thee in the Quality of an Enemy. Let Friendship from this time forward begin betwixt us, and let us try to make it appear whether I have given, or thou hast received thy Life with the better Faith; and so departed from him. Some time after, he preferred him to the Consular Dignity, complaining, that he had not the Confidence to demand it; had him ever after for his very great Friend, and was at last made by him sole Heir to all his Estate. Now from the time of this Accident, which befell Augustus in the fortieth Year of his Age, he never had any Conspiracy or Attempt against him, and therein reaped the due Reward of this his so generous and exemplary Clemency. But it did not so well succeed with our Prince in the former Story, his Moderation and Mercy not being sufficient so to secure him, that he did not afterwards fall into the Toils of the like Treason, so vain and frivolous a thing is Humane Prudence; and in spite of all our Projects, Counsels, and Precautions, Fortune will still be Mistress of Events. We repute Physicians fortunate when they hit upon a lucky Cure, as if there was no other Art but theirs that could not stand upon its own Legs, and whose Foundations are too weak to support itself upon its own Basis; and as if no other Art stood in need of Fortune's Hand to assist in its Operations. For my part, I think of Physic as much good or ill as any one would have me: for, Thanks be to God, we have no great Traffic together. I am of a quite contrary Humour to other men, for I always despise it; but when I am sick, instead of recanting, or entering into Composition with it, I begin yet more to hate, nauseate, and fear it, telling them who importune me to enter into a course of Physic, that they must give me time to recover my Strength and Health, that I may be the better able to support and encounter the violence and danger of the Potion: so that I still let Nature work, supposing her to be sufficiently armed with Teeth and Claws to defend herself from the Assaults of Infirmity, and to uphold that Contexture, the Dissolution of which she flies and abhors: for I am afraid, lest instead of assisting her when grappled, and struggling with the Disease, I should assist her Adversary, and procure new Work, and new Accidents to encounter. Now I say, that not in Physic only, but in other more certain Arts, Fortune has a very great interest and share. The Poetic Raptures, and those prodigious flights of Fancy, that ravish and transport the Author out of himself, why should we not attribute them to his good Fortune, since the Poet himself confesses they exceed his Sufficiency and Force, and acknowledges them to proceed from something else than himself, and has them no more in his Power than the Orators say they have those extraordinary Motions and Agitations that sometimes push them beyond their Design. It is the same in Painting, where Touches shall sometimes slip from the hand of the Painter, so surpassing both his Fancy and his Art, as to beget his own Admiration. But Fortune does yet more accidently manifest the share she has in all things of this kind, by the Graces and Elegancies are found out in them, not only beyond the Intention, but even without the Knowledge of the Artist. A judicious Reader does often find out in other men's Writings, other kind of Perfections, and finds in them a better Sense and more acquaint Expression than the Author himself either intended or perceived. And, as to military Erterprises and Executions, every one sees how great a hand Fortune has in all those Affairs; even in our very Counsels and Deliberations there must certainly be something of Chance and good Luck mixed with Humane Prudence, for all that our Wisdom can do alone is no great matter; the more piercing, quick, and apprehensive it is, the weaker it finds itself, and is by so much more apt to mistrust its own Virtue. I am of Sylla's Opinion, and when I most strictly and nearer hand examine the most glorious Exploits of War, I perceive, methinks, that those who carry them on, make use of Counsel and Debate only for Customs sake, and leave the best part of the Enterprise to Fortune, and relying upon her Favour and Assistance, transgress at every turn the Bounds of Military Conduct, and the Rules of War. There happen sometimes accidental Alacrities and strange Furies in their Deliberations, that for the most part prompt them to follow the worst, and worst grounded Counsels, and that swell their Courages beyond the Limits of Reason: 
Monluc in his Commentarisse.  from whence it falls out, that many great Captains, to justify those temerarious Deliberations, have been forced to tell their Soldiers, that they were by some Inspiration and good Omen encouraged and invited to such Attempts. Wherefore, in this Doubt and Uncertainty that the short-sightedness of Humane Wisdom to see and choose the best, (by reason of the Difficulties that the various Accidents and Circumstances of things bring along with them) does perplex us withal, the surest way in my Opinion, did no other Consideration invite us to it, more to pitch upon that wherein is the greatest Appearance of Honesty and Justice, and not being certain of the shortest, to go the straitest and most direct way; as in these two Examples I have before laid down; there is no question to be made but it was more noble and generous in him who had received the Offence, to pardon it, as they both did, than to do otherwise; and if the former miscarried in it, he is not nevertheless to be blamed for his good Intention: neither does any one know if he had proceeded otherwise, whether by that means he had avoided the end his Destiny had appointed for him; and he had however lost the Glory of so generous an Act. You will find in History, of many who have been in this apprehension, that the most part have taken the course to meet, and prevent Conspiracies by Punishment and Revenge; but I find but very few who have reaped any Advantage by this proceeding; witness so many Roman Emperors: and whoever finds himself in this danger, ought not to expect much either from his Vigilancy or Power; for how hard a thing is it for a man to secure himself from an Enemy, who lies concealed under the countenance of the most officious Friend we have, and to discover and know the Wills and inward Thoughts of those who are continually doing us service. 'Tis to much purpose to have a Guard of Strangers about a man's Person, and to be always fenced about with a Pale of armed men; whosoever despises his own Life, is always Master of that of another man. And moreover, this continual suspicion, that makes a Prince jealous of all the World, must of necessity be a strange Torment to him, and therefore it was, that Dion, being advertised that Calippus watched all opportunities to take away his Life, had never the Heart to inquire more particularly into it, saying, that he had rather die, than live in that misery, that he must continually stand upon his Guard, not only against his Enemies, but his Friends also; which Alexander much more lively manifested in effect, when having notice by a Letter from Parmenio, that Philip, his most beloved Physician, was by Darius his money corrupted to poison him, at the same time that he gave the Letter to Philip to read, supped off the Potion he had brought him. Was not this by such a Resolution to express, that if his Friends had a mind to dispatch him out of the World, he was willing to give them opportunity to do it? This Prince is indeed the Sovereign Precedent of all hazardous Actions; but I do not know whether there be another passage in his Life wherein there is so much steadiness and constancy as in this, nor so illustrious an Image of the greatness of his Mind. Those who preach to Princes so circumspect and vigilant a jealousy and distrust, under colour of Security, preach to them ruin and dishonour. Nothing Noble can ever be performed without Danger. I know a Person, naturally of a very great daring and enterprizing Courage, whose good fortune is continually prevented, and forestalled by such persuasions, that he must retire into the gross of his own Body, and keep those he knows are his Friends continually about him, that he must not hearken to any Reconciliation with his ancient Enemies, that he must stand off, and not trust his Person in hands stronger than his own, what promises or offers soever they may make him, or what advantages soever he may see before him. And I know another, who has unexpectedly made his Fortune by following a contrary Advice. Courage, the Reputation and Glory of which men seek with so greedy an Appetite, represents and sets itself out when need requires, as magnificently in Querpo, as in the neatest Arms, in a Closet, as well as a Camp; and this over-circumspect and wary Prudence is a mortal Enemy to all high and generous Exploits. Scipio, to sound Syphax his intention, leaving his Army, and abandoning Spain, not yet secure, nor well settled in his new Conquest, could pass over into afric in two contemptible Bottoms, to commit himself, in an Enemy's Country, to the power of a Barbarian King, to a Faith untried and unknown, without Precaution, without Hostage, under the sole security of the greatness of his own Courage, his good Fortune, and the promise of his elevated Hopes. 
Livius.  Habita fides ipsam plerumque fidem obligat. Trust oftentimes obliges Fidelity. On the contrary, Fear and Diffidence invite and draw on injury and offence. The most mistrustful of all our Kings settled his Affairs principally by voluntarily giving up his Life and Liberty into his Enemy's hands, by that action manifesting that he had an absolute confidence in them, to the end they might repose as great an assurance in him. Caesar did only oppose the Authority of his Countenance, and the sharpness of his Rebukes to his mutinous Legions, and rebellious Army.  

— stetit aggere fulti  

Lucan. l. 5.  Cespitis, intrepidus vultu, meruitque timeri  
Nil metuens.   

Upon a Parapet of Turf he stood,  
His manly face with Resolution shone,  
And froze the Mutineers rebellious blood,  
Challenging fear from all by fearing none.   
But it is true withal, that this undaunted assurance is not to be represented in its true and lively form, but by such whom the apprehension of Death, and the worst that can happen, does no way terrify and affright; for to represent a pretended Resolution with a pale and doubtful Countenance, and trembling Limbs for the forced Service of an important Reconciliation, will effect nothing to purpose. 'Tis an excellent way to gain the Heart, and conquer the Will of another, to go submit, and intrust a man's Person to him, provided it appear to be frankly done, and without the constraint of Necessity, and in such a condition, that a man manifestly does it out of a pure and entire confidence in the Party, at least with a Countenance clear from any Cloud of suspicion. I saw, when I was a Boy, a Gentleman, who was Governor of a great City, upon occasion of a Popular Commotion and Fury, not knowing what other course to take, go out of a Place of very great Strength and Security, and commit himself to the mercy of the seditious Rabble, in hopes by that means to appease the Tumult before it grew to a more formidable Head: but it was ill for him that he did so, for he was there miserably slain. But I am not nevertheless of opinion, that he committed so great an Error in going out, as men commonly reproach his Memory withal, as he did in choosing a gentle and submissive way for the effecting his purpose, and in endeavouring to quiet this storm, rather by obeying than commanding, and by Entreaty rather than Remonstrance; and am inclined to believe, that a gracious Severity, with a Soldierlike way of commanding, full of Security, and confidence suitable to the Quality of his Person, and the Dignity of his Command, would have succeeded better with him; at least, he had perished with greater Decency and Reputation. There is nothing so little to be expected, or hoped for from this many-headed Monster, when so incensed, as Humanity and good Nature; it is much more capable of Reverence and Fear. I should also reproach him, that having taken a Resolution (in my Judgement rather brave than rash) to expose himself weak and naked in this tempestuous Sea of enraged frantics, he ought boldly to have stemmed the Current, and to have born himself bravely aloft; whereas coming to discover his Danger nearer hand, and his Nose thereupon happening to bleed, he again changed that demiss and fawning Countenance he had at first put on, into another of Fear and Amazement, and filling both his Voice and Eyes with Entreaties and Tears, and in that Posture endeavouring to withdraw and secure his Person, that Carriage more inflamed their Fury, and soon brought the Effects of it upon him. It was upon a time in a certain Place ordered by some, who had no very good Meaning in it, that there should be a general Muster of several Troops in Arms (for that is the most proper Scene of secret Revenges, and there is no Place where they can be executed with greater Safety) and there were public and manifest Appearances, that there was no safe coming for some, whose principal and necessary Office it was to view them. Whereupon, a Consultation was called, and several Counsels were proposed, as in a case that was very nice, and of great Difficulty; and moreover, of important consequence. Mine, amongst the rest, was, that they should by all means avoid giving any sign of Suspicion, but that the Officers who were most in danger should boldly go, and with cheerful and erect Countenances ride boldly and confidently through the Files and Divisions, and that instead of sparing Fire (which the Counsels of the major part tended to) they should entreat the Captains to command the Soldiers to give round and full Volleys in Honour of the Spectators, and not to spare their Powder: which was accordingly done, and served to so good use, as to please and gratify the suspected Troops, and thenceforward to beget a mutual and wholesome Confidence and Intelligence amongst them. I look upon Julius Caesar's way of winning Men to him as the best, and most plausible, that can possibly be put in practice. First, he tried by Clemency to make himself beloved even by his very Enemies, contenting himself in detected Conspiracies, only publicly to declare, that he was pre-acquainted with them; which being done, he took a noble Resolution to expect, without Solicitude or Fear, whatever might be the Event, wholly resigning up himself to the Protection of the Gods and Fortune: for questionless in this very Estate he was at the time when he was killed. A Stranger having publicly said, that he could teach Dionysius, the Tyrant of Syracuse, an infallible way to find out and discover all the Conspiracies his Subjects should contrive against him, if he would give him a good Sum of Money for his Pains: Dionysius, hearing of it, caused the Man to be brought to him, that he might learn an Art so necessary to his Preservation; and having asked him by what Art he might make such Discoveries, the Fellow made Answer, That all the Art he knew, was, That he should give him a Talon, and afterwards boast that he had obtained a singular Secret from him. Dionysius liked the Invention, and accordingly caused six hundred Crowns to be counted out to him. It was not likely he should give so great a Sum to a Person unknown, but upon the account of some extraordinary Discovery, the belief of which served to keep his Enemies in awe. Princes however do very wisely, to publish the Informations they receive of all the Practices against their Lives, to possess men with an opinion they have so good Intelligence, and so many Spies abroad, that nothing can be plotted against them, but they have present notice of it. The Duke of Athens did a great many ridiculous things to establish his new Tyranny over Florence: but this especially was most remarkable, that having received the first intimation of the Conspiracies the People were hatching against him, by Mattheo di Moroso, one of the Conspirators, he presently put him to death, to suppress that Rumour, that it might not be thought any of the City disliked his Government. I remember I have formerly read a Story of some Roman of great Quality, who, flying the Tyranny of the Triumvirate, had a thousand times, by the subtlety of as many Inventions, escaped from falling into the hands of those that pursued him. It happened one day, that a Troop of Horse which was sent out to take him, passed close by a Brake where he was squat, and missed very narrowly of spying him: but he considering, upon the instant, the Pains and Difficulties wherein he had so long continued, to evade the strict and continual Searches were every day made for him, the little Pleasure he could hope for in such a kind of Life, and how much better it was for him to die once for all, than to be perpetually at this pass, he start from his Seat himself, called them back, showed them his Form, and voluntarily delivered himself up to their Cruelty, by that means to free both himself and them from further Trouble. To invite a man's Enemies to come and cut his Throat, was a Resolution that appears a little extravagant and odd; and yet I think he did better to take that course, than to live in a Quotidian Ague; and for which there was no Cure. But seeing all the Remedies a Man can apply to such a Disease, are full of Unquietness, and uncertain, 'tis better with a manly Courage to prepare one's self for the worst that can happen, and to extract some Consolation from this, That we are not certain the thing we fear will ever come to pass.   

CHAP. XXIV. Of Pedantry.  
I Was often, when a Boy, wonderfully concerned to see in the Italian Farces, a Pedant always brought in for the Fool of the Play, and that the Title of Magister was in no greater Reverence amongst us: for being delivered up to their Tuition, what could I do less than be jealous of their Honour and Reputation? I sought, I confess, to excuse them by the natural incompatibility betwixt the Vulgar sort, and men of a finer thread, both in Judgement and Knowledge, for as much as they go a quite contrary way to one another: But in this, the thing I most stumbled at was, that the bravest men were those who most despised them; witness our famous Poet du Bellay, 


Du Bellay.  Mais je hay par sur tout un scavoir pedantesque.   

But of all sorts of Learning, that  
Of the Pedant I most do hate.   And they used to do so in former times; for Plutarch says, that Grecian, and Scholar, were names of reproach and contempt amongst the Romans. But since, with the better experience of Age, I find they had very great reason so to do, and that magis magnos Clericos, 
Rabelais▪  non sunt magis magnos sapientes. The greatest Clerks are not the wisest men. But whence it should come to pass, that a Mind enriched with the knowledge of so many things, should not become more quick and sprightly, and that a gross and vulgar understanding should yet inhabit there, without correcting and improving itself, where all the Discourses, and Judgements of the greatest Wits the World ever had, are collected, and stored up, I am yet to seek. To admit so many strange Conceptions, so great and so high Fancies, it is necessary, (as a young Lady, and one of the greatest Princesses of the Kingdom, said to me once) that a man's own be crowded, and squeezed together into a less compass, to make room for the other. I should be apt to conclude, that as Plants are suffocated, and drowned with too much nourishment, and Lamps with too much Oil, so is the active part of the Understanding with too much study and Matter, which being embarassed, and confounded with the diversity of things, is deprived of the Force and Power to disengage itself; and that by the pressure of this weight, it is bowed, subjected, and rendered of no use. But it is quite otherwise, for a Soul stretches and dilates itself proportionably as it fills. And in the Examples 〈◊〉 elder times, we see quite contrary, men v●●ry proper for public Business, great Captains, and great Statesmen, very Learned withal; whereas the Philosophers, a sort of men retired from all Public Affairs, have been sometimes also despised, and rendered contemptible by the Comical liberty of their own Times; their Opinions, and singularity of Manners, making them appear to men of another method of living, ridiculous and absurd. Would you make them Judges of a Controversy of common Right, or of the Actions of Men? they are ready to take it upon them, and strait begin to examine, if he has Life, if he has Motion, if Man be any other than an Ox? What it is to do, and to suffer? and what Animals Law and Justice are? Do they speak of the Magistrates, 'tis with a rude, irreverent, and indecent liberty. Do they hear a Prince, or a King commended for his Virtue, they make no more of him, than of a Shepherd, Goatheard, or Neatheard; a lazy Coridon, that busies himself only about milking, and shearing his Herds and Flocks, and that after the rudest manner. Do you repute any man the greater for being Lord of two thousand Acres of Land? they laugh at such a pitiful Pittance, as laying claim themselves to the whole World for their possession. Do you boast of your Nobility and Blood, for being descended from seven rich successive Ancestors? they will look upon you with an eye of Contempt, as men who have not a right Idea of the Universal Image of Nature, and that do not consider how mamy Predecessors every one of us has had, Rich, Poor, Kings, Slaves, Greeks, and Barbarians. And though you were the fiftieth descent from Hercules, they look upon it as a great vanity, so highly to value this, which is only a gift of Fortune. And even so did the Vulgar sort of men nauseate them, as men ignorant of the beginning of things, where all things were common, accusing them of Presumption and Insolence. But this Platonic Picture is far different from that these Pedants are presented by: For those were envied for raising themselves above the common sort of men, for despising the ordinary Actions and Offices of Life, for having assumed a particular and inimitable way of living, and for using a certain Method of Bombast and obsolete Language, quite different from the ordinary way of speaking: but these are contemned for being as much below the usual form, as incapable of Public Employment, for leading a Life, and conforming themselves to the mean and vile manners of the Vulgar. Odi homines ignava opera, Philosopha Sententia. 
Peccuvius.  I hate men who talk like Philosophers, but do worse than the most slothful of men. For what concerns those true Philosophers, I must needs say, that if they were great in Science, they were yet much greater in Action. And, as it is said of the Geometrician of Syracuse, 
Archimedes.  who having been disturbed from his Contemplation, to put some of his Skill in Practice for the Defence of his Country, that he suddenly set on foot dreadful and prodigious Engines, and that wrought Effects beyond all humane expectation; himself notwithstanding disdained his own handiwork, thinking in this he had played the Mechanic, and violated the Dignity of his Art, of which these Performances of his, (though so highly cried up by the Public Voice) he accounted but trivial Experiments, and inferior Models: so they, whenever they have been put upon the Proof of Action, have been seen to fly to so high a Pitch, as made it very well appear, their Souls were strangely elevated, and enriched with the Knowledge of Things. But some of them, seeing the Reins of Government in the hands of ignorant and unskilful Men, have avoided all Places and Interest in the Management of Affairs; and he who demanded of Crates, How long it was necessary to Philosophise, received this Answer, Till our Armies (said he) are no more commanded by Fools and Coxcombs. Heraclitus resigned the Royalty to his Brother, and to the Ephesians, who reproached him that he spent his time in playing with Boys before the Temple; Is it not better, said he, to do so, than to sit at the Helm of Affairs in your Company? Others having their Imagination advanced above the thoughts of the World and Fortune, have looked upon the Tribunals of Justice, and even the Thrones of Kings, with an Eye of Contempt and Scorn; insomuch, that Empedocles refused the Royalty that the Agrigentines offered to him. Thales, once inveighing in Discourse against the Pains and Care Men put themselves to, to become rich; was answered by one in the Company, that he did like the Fox, who found fault with what he could not obtain. Whereupon, he had a mind, for the Jest's sake, to show them to the contrary; and having upon this Occasion for once made a muster of all his Wits, wholly to employ them in the Service of Profit, he set a Traffic on foot, which in one Year brought him in so great Riches, that the most experienced in that Trade could hardly in their whole Lives, with all their Industry, have raked so much together. That which Aristotle reports of some who said of him, Anaxagoras, and others of their Profession, that they were wise but not prudent, in not applying their Study to more profitable things (though I do not well digest this nice Distinction) that will not however serve to excuse my Pedantic sort of Men, for to see the low and necessitous Fortune wherewith they are content, we have rather Reason to pronounce that they are neither wise, nor prudent. But letting this first Reason alone, I think it better to say, that this Inconvenience proceeds from their applying themselves the wrong way to the Study of Sciences; and that after the manner we are instructed, it is no wonder if neither the Scholars nor the Masters become, though more learned, ever the wiser, or more fit for Business. In plain Truth, the Cares and Expense our Parents are at in our Education▪ point at nothing, but to furnish our Heads with Knowledge; but not a Word of Judgement and Virtue. Cry out of one that passes by, to the People, O, what a Learned! and of another, O, what a good man goes there! they will not fail to turn their Eyes, and address their Respect to the former. There should then be a third Crier, O the Puppies and Coxcombs! Men are apt presently to inquire, Does such a one understand Greek? Is he a Critic in Latin? Is he a Poet? or does he only pretend to Prose? But whether he be grown better or more discreet, which are Qualities of greater Value and Concern, those are never enquired into; whereas, we should rather examine, who is better learned, than who is more learned. We only toil and labour to stuff the Memory, and in the mean time leave the Conscience and the Understanding unfurnished and void. And, like Birds who fly abroad to forage for Grain, bring it home in the Beak, without tasting it themselves, to feed their Young; so our Pedants go picking Knowledge here and there, out of several Authors, and hold it at the Tongue's end, only to spit it out, and distribute it amongst their Pupils. And here I cannot but smile to think how I have paid myself in showing the Foppery of this kind of Learning, who myself am so manifest an Example; for, do I not the same thing throughout almost this whole Treatise? I go here and there, culling out of several Books the Sentences that best please me, not to keep them (for I have no Memory to retain them in) but to transplant them into this; where, to say the Truth, they are no more mine than in their first Places. We are, I conceive, knowing only in present Knowledge, and not at all in what is past, no more than in that which is to come. But the worst on't is, their Scholars and Pupils are no better nourished by this kind of Inspiration, nor it makes no deeper Impression upon them, than the other, but passes from hand to hand, only to make a show, to be tolerable Company, and to tell pretty Stories, like a counterfeit Coin in Counters, of no other use nor value, but to reckon with, or to set up at Cards. Apud alios loqui didicerunt, non ipsi secum. 
Seneca Epist. 105.  Non est loquendum, sed gubernandum; They have learned to speak from others, not from themselves. Speaking is not so necessary as Governing. Nature, to show that there is nothing barbarous where she has the sole Command, does oftentimes, in Nations where Art has the least to do, cause productions of Wit, such as may rival the greatest Effects of Art whatever. As in relation to what I am now speaking of, the Gascon Proverb, derived from a Corn-pipe, is very acquaint and subtle. Bouha prou bouha, mas a remuda lous dits qu'em. You may blow till your Eyes start out; but if once you offer to stir your Fingers, you will be at the end of your Lesson. We can say, Cicero says thus; that these were the Manners of Plato, and that these are the very Words of Aristotle: but what do we say ourselves that is our own? What do we do? What do we judge? A Parrot would say as much as that. And this kind of Talking puts me in mind of that rich Gentleman of Rome, who had been solicitous, with very great Expense, to procure men that were excellent in all sorts of Science, which he had always attending his Person, to the end, that when amongst his Friends any Occasion fell out of speaking of any Subject whatsoever, they might supply his Place, and be ready to prompt him, one with a Sentence of Seneca, another with a Verse of Homer, and so forth, every one according to his Talon; and he fancied this Knowledge to be his own, because in the Heads of those who lived upon his Bounty. As they also do whose Learning consists in having noble Libraries. I know one, who, when I question him about his Reading, he presently calls for a Book to show me, and dare not venture to tell me so much, as that he has Piles in his Posteriours, till first he has consulted his Dictionary, what Piles and what Posteriours are. We take other men's Knowledge and Opinions upon Trust; which is an idle and superficial Learning: we must make it our own. We are in this very like him, who having need of Fire, went to a Neighbour's House to fetch it, and finding a very good one there, fate down to warm himself without remembering to carry any with him home. What good does it do us to have the Stomach full of Meat, if it do not digest, and be not incorporated with us, if it does not nourish and support us? Can we imagine that Lucullus, whom Letters, without any manner of Experience made so great and so exact a Leader, learned to be so after this perfunctory manner? We suffer ourselves to lean and rely so over-strongly upon the Arm of another, that by so doing we prejudice our own Strength and Vigour. Would I fortify myself against the fear of Death? it must be at the Expense of Seneca: Would I extract Consolation for myself or my Friend? I borrow it from him, or Cicero; whereas I might have found it in myself, had I been trained up to make use of my own Reason. I do not fancy this relative, mendicant, and precarious Understanding; for though we could become learned by other men's Reading, I am sure a Man can never be wise but by his own Wisdom. 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
Proverb. Iamb.    

Who in his own Concerns not wise,  
I that Man's Wisdom do despise.   From whence Ennius, 
Cicero Epist. 6. l. 7. ex Enyo.  Nequidquam sapere sapientem, qui ipsi sibi prodesse non quiret; That wise man knows nothing, who cannot profit himself by his Wisdom. 
Cicero de Fini. l. 1.  Non enim paranda nobis solum, sed fruenda sapientia est; For Wisdom is not only to be acquired, but enjoyed. Dionysius laughed at the Grammarians, who cudgelled their Brains to inquire into the Miseries of Ulysses, and were ignorant of their own; at Musicians, who were so exact in tuning their Instruments, and never tuned their Manners; and at Orators, who studied to declare what was Justice, but never took care to do it. If the Mind be not better disposed, if the Judgement be no better settled, I had much rather my Scholar had spent his time at Tennis, for at least his Body would by that means be in better Exercise and Breath. Do but observe him when he comes back from School, after fifteen or sixteen Years that he has been there, there is nothing so awkward and maladroit, so unfit for Company or Employment; and all that you shall find he has got, is, that his Latin and Greek have only made him a greater and more conceited Coxcomb than when he went from home. He should bring his Soul replete with good Literature, and he brings it only swelled, and puffed up with vain and empty Shreds and Snatches of Learning, and has really nothing more in him than he had before. These Pedants of ours, as Plato says of the Sophists, their Cousin-germen, are, of all Men living, they who most pretend to be useful to Mankind, and who alone, of all Men, not only do not better and improve that is committed to them, as a Carpenter or a Mason would do, but make them much worse, and make them pay for being made so to boot. If the Rule which Protagoras proposed to his Pupils were followed, either that they should give him his own Demand, or make Affidavit upon Oath in the Temple how much they valued the Profit they had received under his Tuition, and accordingly satisfy him, our Pedagogues would find themselves basely graveled, especially if they were to be judged by the Testimony of my Experience. Our vulgar Perigordin Patois does pleasantly call them Pretenders to Learning, Lettre-ferits, as a Man should say, Letter-marked; a man on whom Letters have been stamped by the Blow of a Mallet; and in truth, for the most part, they appear to have a soft place in their Skulls, and to be deprived even of common Sense. For you see the Husbandman, and the Cobbler, go simply and honestly about their Business, speaking only of what they know and understand; whereas these Fellows, to make parade, and to get opinion, mustering this ridiculous knowledge of theirs, that swims and floats in the Superficies of the Brain, are perpetually perplexing and entangling themselves in their own Nonsense. They speak fine words sometimes, 'tis true, but let some body that is wiser apply them. They are wonderfully well acquainted with Galen, but not at all with the Disease of the Patient; they have already deafed you with a long ribble-row of Laws, but understand nothing of the case in hand; They have the Theories of all things, let who will put it in practice. I have sat by, when a Friend of mine, in my own House, for sport sake, has with one of these Fellows counterfeited a canting Galimatias, patched up of several Expressions without head or foot, saving that he now and then interlarded here and there some terms that had relation to their Dispute, and held the Coxcomb in play a whole Afternoon together, who all the while thought he had answered pertinently, and learnedly to all his Objections. And yet this was a man of Letters, and Reputation, and no worse than one of the long Robe. 

Vos O patricius sanguis quos vivere par est 
Persius, Sat. 1.   
Occipiti caeco, posticae occurrite sannae.   

O you Patrician bloods, whose Laws commend  
To have your heads from retrospexion blind,  
Take this poor counsel of a faithful Friend,  
Beware of having a Caldese behind.   Whosoever shall narrowly pry into, and thoroughly sift this sort of People, wherewith the World is so pestered, will, as I have done, find, that for the most part, they neither understand others, nor themselves; and that their Memories are full enough, 'tis true, but the Judgement totally void and empty; some excepted, whose own Nature has of itself formed them into better fashion. 
Testimony of Adrianus Turnebus.  As I have observed for Example in Adrianus Turnebus, who having never made other profession, than that of mere Learning only, and in that, in my opinion, the greatest man that has been these thousand years, had nothing at all in him of the Pedant, but the wearing of his Gown, and a little exterior fashion, that could not be civilised to the Garb, which are nothing; and I hate our People, who can worse endure a Pedantic Mode, than an ill contrived Mind, and take their measures by the Leg a man makes, by his behaviour, and so much as the very fashion of his Boots, what a kind of man he is. For within all this, there was not a more illustrious and polite Soul living upon Earth. I have often purposely put him upon Arguments quite wide of his Profession, wherein I found he had so clear an insight, so quick an apprehension, and so solid a judgement: that a man would have thought he had never practised any other thing but Arms, and been all his life employed in Affairs of State. And these are great and vigorous Natures, 

— Queis arte benigna  

Juven. Sat. 14.  Et meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan.   

— With greater Art whose mind  
The Sun has made of Clay much more refined.   that can keep themselves upright in defiance of a Pedantic Education. But it is not enough that our Education does not spoil us; it must moreover alter us for the better. Some of our Parliaments, when they are to admit Officers, examine only their Talon of Learning; to which some of the others also add the trial of Understanding, by ask their Judgement of some Case in Law, of which the latter methinks proceed with the better Method: for although both are necessary, and that it is very requisite they should be defective in neither, yet, in truth, Knowledge is not so absolutely necessary as Judgement, and the last may make shift without the other, but the other never without this. For as the Greek Verse says, 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
Menander in Gnom.    

Learning is nothing worth, if Wit  
And Understanding be not joined with it.   To what Use serves Learning, if the Understanding be away? Would to God, that, for the good of our Judicature, those Societies were as well furnished with Understanding and Conscience, as they are with Knowledge. Non Vitae, sed Scolae discimus; 
Sen. Epist. 106.  We do not study for the service of our future Life, but only for the present use of the School. Whereas we are not to tie Learning to the Soul, but to work and incorporate them together; not to tincture it only, but to give it a thorough and perfect die; which, if it will not take colour, and meliorate its imperfect state, it were without question better to let it alone 'Tis a dangerous weapon, and that will endanger to wound its master, if put into an awkward, and unskilful hand: Vt fuerit melius non didicisse. So that it were better never to have learned at all. And this peradventure is the reason, why neither we, nor indeed Christian Religion, require much Learning in Women; and that Francis Duke of Britain, Son of John the Fifth (one being talking with him about his Marriage with Isabelle the Daughter of Scotland, and adding that she was homely bred, and without any manner of Learning) made answer, That he liked her the better, and that a Woman was wise enough, if she could distinguish her Husband's Shirt and his Doublet. So that it is no so great wonder, as they make of it, that our Ancestors had Letters in no greater Esteem, and that even to this day, they are but rarely met with in the Privy Councils of Princes; and if this End and Design of acquiring Riches (which is the only thing we propose to ourselves, by the means of Law, Physic, Pedantry, and even Divinity itself) did not uphold, and keep them in credit, you would without doubt see them as poor and unregarded as ever. And what loss would it be, if they neither instruct us to think well, nor to do well? Postquam docti prodierunt, boni desunt; After once they become Learned, they cease to be good. All other knowledge is hurtful to him, who has not the Science of Honesty and good Nature. But the reason I glanced upon but now, may it not also proceed from hence, that our Study, having almost no other Aim but Profit, fewer of those, who by Nature are born to Offices and Employments, rather of Glory than Gain, addict themselves to Letters; or for so little a while (being taken from their Studies before they can come to have any taste of them, to a Profession that has nothing to do with Books) that there ordinarily remain no other to apply themselves wholly to Learning, but People of mean Condition, who in that only study to live, and have Preferment only in their Prospect; and by such People, whose Souls are both by Nature, and Education, and domestic Example, of the basest Metal and Alloy, the Fruits of Knowledge are both immaturely gathered, ill-digested, and delivered to their Pupils quite another thing. For it is not for Knowledge to enlighten a Soul that is dark of itself; nor to make a blind man to see. Her Business is not to find a man Eyes, but to guide, govern, and direct his steps, provided he have found Feet, and straight Legs to go upon. Knowledge is an excellent Drug, but no Drug has virtue enough to preserve itself from Corruption and Decay, if the Vessel be tainted and impure wherein it is put to keep. Such a one may have a Sight clear and good enough, who looks a squint, and consequently sees what is good, but does not follow it, and sees Knowledge, but makes no use of it. Plato's principal Institution in his Republic is, to fit his Citizens with Employments suitable to their Nature. Nature can do all, and does all. Cripples are very unfit for Exercises of the Body, and lame Souls for Exercises of the Mind. Degenerate and vulgar Souls are unworthy of Philosophy. If we see a Shoemaker with his Shoes out at the Toes, we say, 'tis no wonder; for, commonly, none go worse shod than their Wives and they. In like manner, Experience does often present us a Physician worse physick'd, a Divine worse reformed, and frequently, a Scholar of less Sufficiency than another. Aristo of Chios had anciently Reason to say, That Philosophers did their Auditories harm, forasmuch as most of the Souls of those that heard them were not capable of making benefit of their Instructions, and if they did not apply them to good, would certainly apply them to ill: 
Cicero de Natu. Deor. l. 3.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ex Aristippi, acerbos ex Zenonis Schola exire. They proceeded effeminate Prodigals from the School of Aristippus, and Churls and Cynics from that of Zeno. In that excellent Institution that Xenophon attributes to the Persians, we find, that they taught their Children Virtue, as other Nations do Letters. Plato tells us, that the eldest Son in their Royal Succession, was thus brought up; So soon as he was born he was delivered, not to Women, but to Eunuches of the greatest Authority about their Kings for their Virtue, whose Charge it was to keep his Body healthful, and in good plight; and after he came to seven Years of Age, to teach him to ride, and to go a Hunting: when he arrived at fourteen he was transferred into the hands of four, the wisest, the most just, the most temperate, and most valiant of the Nation; of which, the first was to instruct him in Religion, the second to be always upright and sincere, the third to conquer his Appetites and Desires, and the fourth to despise all Danger. 'Tis a thing worthy of very great Consideration, that in that excellent, and, in truth, for its Perfection, prodigious form, and civil Regiment set down by Lycurgus, though so solicitous of the Education of Children, as a thing of the greatest Concern, and even in the very Seat of the Muses, he should make so little mention of Learning; as if their generous Youth, disdaining all other Subjection, but that of Virtue only, aught to be supplied, instead of Tutors to read to them Arts and Sciences, with such Masters, as should only instruct them in Valour, Prudence, and Justice. An Example that Plato has followed in his Laws; the manner of whose Discipline was to propound to them Questions upon the Judgements of Men, and of their Actions; and if they commended or condemned this or that Person, or Fact, they were to give a Reason for so doing; by which means they at once sharpened their Understanding, and became skilful in the Laws. Mandane, in Xenophon, ask her Son Cyrus how he would do to learn Justice, and the other Virtues amongst the Medes, having left all his Masters behind him in Persia? He made Answer, That he had learned those things long since; that his Master had often made him a Judge of the Differences amongst his Schoolfellows, and had one day whipped him for giving a wrong Sentence; and thus it was, A great Boy in the School, having a little short Cassock, by force took a longer from another that was not so tall as he, and gave him his own in exchange: whereupon, I being appointed Judge of the Controversy, gave Judgement, That I thought it best either of them should keep the Coat he had, for that they both of them were better fitted with that of one another than with their own: upon which, my Master told me, I had done ill, in that I had only considered the Fitness and Decency of the Garments, whereas I ought to have considered the Justice of the thing, which requires that no one should have any thing forcibly taken from him that is his own. But it seems poor Cyrus was whipped for his Pains, as we are in our Villages, for forgetting the first Aoriste of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: my Pedant must make me a very learned Oration, in genere demonstrativo, before he can persuade me, that his School is like unto that. They knew how to go the readiest way to work; and seeing that Science, when most rightly applied, and best understood, can do no more but teach us Prudence, moral Honesty, and Resolution, they thought fit to initiate their Children with the knowledge of Effects, and to instruct them, not by Hear-say, and by Rote, but by the Experiment of Action, in lively forming and moulding them; not only by Words and Precepts, but chiefly Works and Examples; to the end it might not be a Knowledge of the Mind only, but a Complexion and a Habit: and not an Acquisition, but a natural Possession. One ask to this Purpose, Agesilaus, what he thought most proper for Boys to learn? What they ought to do when they come to be Men, said he. It is therefore no wonder, if such an Institution have produced so admirable Effects. They used to go, 'tis said, in the other Cities of Greece, to inquire out Rhetoricians, Painters, and Musick-Masters; but in Lacedaemon, Legislators, Magistrates, and Generals of Armies; at Athens they learned to speak well, and here to do well; there to disengage themselves from a Sophistical Argument, and to unravel Syllogisms, here to evade the Baits and Allurements of Pleasure, and with a noble Courage and Resolution to confute and conquer the menaces of Fortune and Death; those cudgelled their Brains about Words, these made it their Business to inquire into things; there was an eternal Babble of the Tongue, here a continual Exercise of the Soul. And therefore it is nothing strange, if, when Antipater demanded of them fifty Children for Hostages, they made Answer, quite contrary to what we should do, That they would rather give him twice as many full grown Men, so much did they value the loss of their Country's Education. When Agesilaus courted Xenophon to send his Children to Sparta to be bred, it is not, said he, there to learn Logic or Rhetoric, but to be instructed in the noblest of all Sciences, namely, the Science to Obey, and to Command. It is very pleasant to see Socrates, after his manner, rallying Hippias, who recounts to him what a World of Money he has got, especially in certain little Villages of Sicily, by teaching School, and that he got never a Penny at Sparta. What a sottish and stupid People (says Socrates) are they, without Sense or Understanding, that make no Account either of Grammars, or Poetry, and only busy themselves in studying the Genealogies and Successions of their Kings, the Foundations, Rises, and Declensions of States, and such Tales of a Tub! After which, having made Hippias particularly to acknowledge the Excellency of their Form of Public Administration, and the Felicity and Virtue of their Private Life, he leaves him to guests at the Conclusion he makes of the Inutilit●●s of his Pedantic Arts. Examples have demonstrated to us, that in Military Affairs, and all others of the like Active Nature, the Study of Sciences does more soften and untemper the Courages of Men, than any way fortify and invite them. The most Potent Empire, that at this Day appears to be in the whole World, is that of the Turks, a People equally inclined to the Estimation of Arms, and the Contempt of Letters. I find, Rome was more Valiant before she grew so Learned; and the most Warlike Nations at this time in Being, are the most ignorant: of which, the Scythians, Parthians, and the great Tamerlane, may serve for sufficient Proof. When the Goths overran Greece, the only thing that preserved all the Libraries from the Fire, was, that some one possessed them with an Opinion, that they were to leave this kind of Furniture entire to the Enemy, as being most proper to divert them from the Exercise of Arms, and to fix them to a lazy and sedentary Life. When our King Charles the Eighth, almost without striking a Blow, saw himself possessed of the Kingdom of Naples, and a considerable part of Tuscany, the Nobility about him attributed this unexpected Facility of Conquest to this, that the Princes and Nobles of Italy, more studied to render themselves ingenious and learned, than vigorous and warlike.   

CHAP. XXV. Of the Education of Children. To Madam Diana of Foix, Countess of Gurson.  
I Never yet saw that Father, but let his Son be never so decrepit, or deformed, would not notwithstanding own him: not nevertheless, if he were not totally besotted, and blinded with this Paternal Affection, that he did not well enough discern his Defects: but that all Defaults notwithstanding, he is still his. Just so do I, I see better than any other, that all I write are but the idle Whimsies of a man that has only nibbled upon the outward Crust of Sciences in his Nonage, and only retained a general and formless Image of them, who have got a little snatch of every thing, and nothing of the whole a la mode de France: For I know in general, that there is such a thing as Physic, a knowledge in the Laws, four Parts in Mathematics, and, in part, what all these aim and point at; and peradventure I yet know farther, what Sciences in general pretend unto, in order to the Service of Humane Life: but to dive farther than that, and to have cudgelled my Brains in the study of Aristotle, the Monarch of all Modern Learning; or particularly addicted myself to any one Science, I have never done it; neither is there any one Art of which I am able to draw the first Lineaments and dead colour; insomuch that there is not a Boy of the lowest Form in a School, that may not pretend to be wiser than I, who am not able to pose him in his first Lesson, which if I am at any time forced upon, I am necessitated in my own defence, to ask him some Universal Questions, such as may serve to try his natural Understanding; a Lesson as strange and unknown to him, as his is to me. I never seriously settled myself to the reading any Book of solid Learning, but Plutarch and Seneca; and there, like the Danaides, I eternally fill, and it as constantly runs out; something of which drops upon this Paper, but very little or nothing stays behind. History is my delight, as to matter of Reading, or else Poetry, for which I have, I confess, a particular kindness and esteem: for, as Cleanthes said, as the Voice, forced through the narrow passage of a Trumpet, comes out more forcible and shrill; so, methinks, a Sentence couched in the Harmony of Verse, darts more briskly upon the Understanding, and strikes both my Ear and Apprehension with a smarter, and more pleasing Power. As to the Natural Parts I have, of which this is the Essay, I find them to bow under the burden; my Fancy and Judgement do but grope in the dark, trip and stumble in their way, and when I have gone as far as I can, I discover still a new and greater extent of Land before me, but with a troubled and imperfect sight, and wrapped up in Clouds, that I am not able to penetrate. And taking upon me to write indifferently of whatever comes into my Head, and therein making use of nothing but my own proper and natural Force and Ammunition, if it befell me, as ofttimes it does, accidentally to meet in any good Author, the same Heads and Common-places upon which I have attempted to write, (as I did but a little before in Plutarch's Discourse of the Force of Imagination) to see myself so weak and so forlorn, so heavy, and so flat, in comparison of those better Writers, I at once pity and despise myself. Yet do I flatter, and please myself with this, that my Opinions have often the honour and good fortune to jump with theirs, and that I follow in the same Path, though at a very great distance; I am farther satisfied to find, that I have a Quality, which every one is not blest withal, which is, to discern the vast difference betwixt them and me; and notwithstanding all that, suffer my own Inventions, low, and contemptible as they are, to run on in their Career, without mending or plastering up the Defects that this Comparison has laid open to my own View; and in plain Truth, a Man had need of a good strong Back to keep Pace with these People. The indiscreet Scribblers of our Times, who, amongst their laborious Nothings, insert whole Sections, Paragraphs, and Pages, out of ancient Authors, with a Design by that means to illustrate their own Writings, do quite contrary; for this infinite Dissimilitude of Ornaments renders the Complexion of their own Compositions, so pale, sallow, and deformed, that they lose much more than they get. The Philosophers, Chrysippus and Epicurus, were, in this, of two quite contrary Humours; for the first did not only in his Books mix the Passages and Sayings of other Authors, but entire Pieces, and in one the whole Medea of Euripides; which gave Apollodorus occasion to say, That should a Man pick out of his Writings all that was none of his, he would leave him nothing but blank Paper: whereas the latter, quite contrary, in three hundred Volumes that he left behind him, has not so much as any one Quotation. I happened the other day upon this Piece of Fortune; I was reading a French Book, where after I had a long time run dreaming over a great many Words, so dull, so insipid, so void of all Wit, or common Sense, that indeed they were only words; after a long and tedious travel, I came at last to meet with a piece that was lofty, rich, and elevated to the very Clouds: of which, had I found either the Declivity easy, or the Ascent accessible, there had been some excuse; but it was so perpendicular a Precipice, and so wholly cut off from the rest of the Work, that by the six first words I found myself flying into the other World, and from thence discovered the Vale from whence I came so deep and low, that I had never since the Heart to descend into it any more. If I should set out my Discourses with such rich Spoils as these, the Plagiary would be too manifest in his own Defects, and I should too much discover the imperfection of my own Writing. To reprehend the fault in others, that I am guilty of myself, appears to me no more unreasonable, than to condemn, as I often do, those of others in myself. They are to be every where reproved, and aught to have no Sanctuary allowed them. I know very well how imprudently I myself at every turn attempt to equal myself to my thefts, and to make my style go hand in hand with them, not without a temerarious hopes of deceiving the eyes of my Reader from discerning the difference; but withal, it is as much by the benefit of my Application, that I hope to do it, as by that of my Invention, or any Force of my own. Besides, I do not offer to contend with the whole Body of these Champions, nor hand to hand to any one of them, 'tis only by slights and little light attempts that I engage them; I do not grapple with them, but try their strength only, and never engage so far as I make a show to do; and if I could hold them in play, I were a brave Fellow; for I never attaque them, but where they are most sinewy and strong. To cover a man's self (as I have seen some do) with another man's Arms, so as not to discover so much as their finger's ends; to carry on a Design (as it is not hard for a Man that has any thing of a Scholar in him, in an ordinary Subject to do) under old Inventions, patched up here and there with his own Trumpery, and then to endeavour to conceal the theft, and to make it pass for his own, is first injustice, and meanness of Spirit in whoever do it, who having nothing in them of their own fit to procure them a Reputation, endeavour to do it by attempting to impose things upon the World in their own Name, which they have really no manner of title to; and then a ridiculous Folly to content themselves with acquiring the ignorant approbation of the Vulgar by such a pitiful Cheat, at the price at the same time of discovering their insufficiency to men of Understanding, who will soon smell out and trace them in those borrowed Allegories, and from whom alone they are to expect a legitimate Applause. For my own part, there is nothing I would not sooner do than that, neither have I said so much of others, but to get a better Opportunity to excuse myself: neither in this do I in the least glance at the Composers of Cantos, who declare themselves for such; of which sort of Writers, I have in my time known many very ingenious, and have their Rhapsodies in very great Esteem, and particularly one, under the Name of Capilulus, besides the Ancients. These are really Men of Wit, and that make it appear they are so, both by that and other ways of Writing; as for Example, Lipsius, in that learned and laborious Contexture of his Politics. But, be it how it will, and how inconsiderable soever these Essays of mine may be, I will ingeniously confess, I never intended to conceal them, no more than my old bald grizzled Picture before them, where the Graver has not presented you with a perfect Face, but the Resemblance of mine. And these also are but my own particular Opinions and Fancies, and I deliver them for no other, but only what I myself believe, and not for what is really to be believed. Neither have I any other end in this Writing, but only to discover myself, who also shall peradventure be another thing to morrow, if I chance to meet any Book, or Friend, to convince me in the mean time. I have no Authority to be believed, neither do I desire it, being too conscious of my own inerudition to be able to instruct others.  
A Friend of mine then having read the precedent Chapter, the other day told me, that I should a little longer have insisted upon the Education of Children; and farther have extended my Discourse upon so necessary a point: which, how fit I am to do, let my Friends flatter me if they please, I have in the mean time no such Opinion of my own Talon, as to promise myself any very good success from my endeavour; but (Madam) if I had any sufficiency in this Subject, I could not possibly better employ it, than to present my best Instructions to the little Gentleman that threatens you shortly with a happy Birth; (for you are too generous to begin otherwise than with a male) for having had so great a hand in the treaty of your Marriage, I have a certain particular right and interest in the greatness and prosperity of the Issue that shall spring from it; besides that, your having had the best of my Services so long in possession, does sufficiently oblige me to desire the Honour and Advantage of all wherein you shall be concerned. But, in truth, all I understand as to that particular is only this, that the greatest and most important difficulty of Humane Science is the Education of Children. For as in Agriculture, the Husbandry that is to precede Planting, as also planting itself, is certain, plain, easy, and very well known; but after that which is planted comes to take root, to spread, and shoot up, there is a great deal more to be done, more Art to be used, more care to be taken, and much more difficulty to cultivate and bring them to Perfection: so it is with Men; it is no hard matter to get Children; but after they are born, then begins the Trouble, Solicitude, and Care, virtuously to train, Principle, and bring them up. The Symptoms of their Inclinations in that young and tender Age are so obscure, and the Promises so uncertain and fallacious, that it is very hard to establish any solid Judgement or Conjecture upon them. As Simon, for Example, and Themistocles, and a thousand others, who have very much deceived the little Expectation the World had of them: Cubs of Bears, and Bitch's Puppies, do truly and indeed discover their natural Inclination; but Men, so soon as ever grown up, immediately applying themselves to certain Habits, engaging themselves in certain Opinions, and conforming themselves to particular Laws and Customs, do easily alter, or at least disguise, their true and real Disposition. And yet it is hard to force the Propension of Nature; whence it comes to pass, that for not having chosen the right Course, a Man often takes very great Pains, and consumes a good part of his Age in training up Children to things, for which, by their natural Aversion, they are totally unfit. In this Difficulty, nevertheless, I am clearly of Opinion, that they ought to be elemented in the best and most advantageous Studies, without taking too much notice of, or being too superstitious in those light Prognostics they give of themselves in their tender Years; to which Plato, in his Republic, gives, methinks, too much Authority. But (Madam) Science is doubtless a very great Ornament, and a thing of marvellous use, especially in Persons raised to that degree of Fortune you are; and in truth, in Persons of mean and low Condition, cannot perform its true and genuine Office, being naturally more prompt to assist in the Conduct of War, in the Government of Armies and Provinces, and in negotiating the Leagues and Friendships of Princes and foreign Nations, than in forming a Syllogism in Logic, in pleading a Process in Law, or in prescribing a Dose of Pills in Physic. Wherefore, Madam, believing you will not omit this so necessary Embelishment in the Education of your Posterity, who yourself have tasted the Fruits of it, and of a Learned Extraction (for we yet have the Writings of the ancient Counts of Foix, from whom my Lord, your Husband, and yourself, are both of you descended, and Monsieur de Candale, your Uncle, does every day oblige the World with others, which will extend the knowledge of this Quality in your Family so many succeeding Ages) I will upon this occasion presume to acquaint your Ladyship with one particular Fancy of my own, contrary to the common Method, which also is all I am able to contribute to your Service in this Affair. The charge of the Tutor or Governor you shall provide for your Son, upon the choice of whom depends the whole Success of his Education, has several other great and considerable Parts and Duties required in so important a Trust, besides that of which I am about to speak, which however I shall not mention, as being unable to add any thing of moment to the common Rules, that every one who is qualified for a Governor is perfect in: and also in this wherein I take upon me to advise, he may follow it so far only as it shall appear rational, and conducing to the end at which he does aim and intend.  
For a Boy of Quality then, who pretends to Letters not upon the account of Profit, (for so mean an Object as that is unworthy of the grace and favour of the Muses; and moreover, in that a man directs his Service to, and professes to depend upon others) nor so much for outward ornament, as for his own proper and peculiar use, and to furnish and enrich himself within, having rather a Desire to go out an accomplished Cavalier, and a fine Gentleman, than a mere Scholar, and a Learned Man; for such a one, I say, I would also have his Friends solicitous to find him out a Tutor, who has rather an Elegant than a Learned Head, and both, if such a Person can be found; but however, to prefer his Manners and his Judgement before his Reading, and that this Man should pursue the Exercise of his Charge after a new method. 'Tis the Custom of Schoolmasters, to be eternally thundering in their Pupils Ears, as they were pouring into a Funnel, whilst their Business is only to repeat what the other have said before: Now I would have a Tutor to correct this Error, and that at the very first, he should, according to the Capacity he has to deal with, put it to the Test, permitting his Pupil himself to taste and relish things, and of himself to choose and discern them, sometimes opening the way to him, and sometimes making him to break the Ice himself; that is, I would not have him alone to invent and speak, but that he should also hear his Pupil speak in turn. Socrates, and since him Arcesilaus, made first their Scholars speak, and then they spoke to them. 
Cic. de Nat. Deor. l. 1.  Obest plerumque iis qui dicere volunt, authoritas eorum qui docent; The Authority of those who teach, is very oft an impediment to those who desire to learn. It is good to make him, like a young Horse, trot before him, that he may judge of his going, and how much he is to abate of his own Speed, to accommodate himself to the Vigour and Capacity of the other. For want of which due proportion, we spoil all; which also to know how to adjust, and to keep within an exact and due measure, is one of the hardest things I know, and an effect of a judicious and well-tempered Soul, to know how to condescend to his Puerile Motions, and to govern and direct them. I walk firmer, and more secure up Hill than down, and such as according to our common way of Teaching, undertake, with one and the same Lesson, and the same measure of direction, to instruct several Boys of so differing and unequal Capacities, are infinitely mistaken in their Method; and at this rate 'tis no wonder, if in a multitude of Scholars, there are not found above two or three who bring away any good account of their Time and Discipline. Let the Master not only examine him about the Grammatical Construction of the bare words of his Lesson, but of the sense and meaning of them, and let him judge of the Profit he has made, not by the testimony of his Memory, but by that of his Understanding. Let him make him put what he hath learned into an hundred several Forms, and accommodate it to so many several Subjects, to see if he yet rightly comprehend it, and have made it his own, taking instruction by his progress from the Institutions of Plato. 'Tis a sign of Crudity and Indigestion to vomit up what we eat in the same condition it was swallowed down, and the Stomach has not performed its office, unless it have altered the form and condition of what was committed to it to concoct: so our minds work only upon trust, being bound and compelled to follow the Appetite of another's Fancy, enslaved and captivated under the Authority of another's Instruction, we have been so subjected to the Tramel, that we have no free, nor natural Pace of our own, our own Vigour and Liberty is extinct and gone. Nunquam tutelae suae fiunt; 
Sen. Ep. 33.  They are ever in Wardship, and never left to their own Tuition. I was privately at Pisa carried to see a very honest man; but so great an Aristotelian, that his most usual Thesis was, That the Touchstone and Square of all solid Imagination, and of the Truth, was an absolute conformity to Aristotle's Doctrine; and that all besides was nothing but Inanity and Chimaera; for that he had seen all, and said all. A Position, that for having been a little too injuriously, and maliciously interpreted, brought him first into, and afterwards long kept him in great trouble in the Inquisition at Rome. Let him make him examine, and thoroughly sift every thing he reads, and lodge nothing in his Fancy upon simple Authority, and upon trust. Aristotle's Principles will then be no more Principles to him, than those of Epicurus and the Stoics: only let this Diversity of Opinions be propounded to, and laid before him, he will himself choose, if he be able; if not, he will remain in doubt.  

Che non menche saper dubbiar m' aggrada.   


Dante Inferno, Canto 12.  I love sometimes to doubt, as well as know.   
For if he embrace the Opinions of Xenophon and Plato, by maintaining them, they will no more be theirs, but become his own. Who follows another, follows nothing, finds nothing, nay, is inquisitive after nothing. Non sumus sub Rege, sibi quisque se vindicet; Let him at least know, that he knows. It will be necessary that he imbibe their knowledge, not that he be corrupted with their Precepts; and no matter if he forget where he had his Learning, provided he know how to apply it to his own Use; Truth and Reason are common to every one, and are no more his who spoke them first, than his who speaks them after. 'Tis no more according to Plato, than according to me, since both he and I equally see and understand them. Bees cull their several Sweets from this Flower, and that Blossom, here and there where they find them, but themselves after make the Honey, which is all, and purely their own, and no more Time and Margerum: so the several Fragments he borrows from others, he will transform and shuffle together to compile a Work that shall be absolutely his own; that is to say, his Judgement, his Instruction, Labour, and Study, tend to nothing else but to incline, and make him capable so to do. He is not obliged to discover whence he had his Ammunition, but only to produce what he has himself composed. Men that live upon Rapine, and borrowing, expose their Purchases and Buildings to every one's knowledge and view: but do not proclaim how they came by the Money. We do not see the Fees and Perquisits belonging to the Function and Offices of a Gentleman of the long Robe; but we see the Noble Alliances wherewith he fortifies himself and his Family, and the Titles and Honours he has obtained for him and his. No man divulges his Revenue; or at lest which way it comes in: but every one publishes his Purchases, and is content the World should know his good Condition. The Advantages of our Study are to become better and more wise. 'Tis (says Epicharmus) the Understanding that sees and hears, 'tis the Understanding that improves every thing, that order every thing, and that acts, rules, and reigns: all other Faculties are blind, and deaf, and without Soul; and certainly, we render it timorous and servile, in not allowing it the Liberty and Privilege to do any thing of itself. Who ever asked his Pupil what he thought of Grammar and Rhetoric, or of such and such a Sentence of Cicero? Our Master's dart and stick them full feathered in our Memories, and there establish them like Oracles, of which the very Letters and Syllables are of the substance of the thing. To know by rote, is no Knowledge, and signifies no more but only to retain what one has entrusted to his Memory. That which a man rightly knows and understands, he is the free Disposer of at his own full Liberty, without any regard to the Author from whence he had it, or fumbling over the Leaves of his Book. A mere Bookish Learning is both troublesome and ungraceful; and though it may serve for some kind of Ornament, there is yet no Foundation for any Superstructure to be built upon it, 
What true Philosophy is, according to Plato.  according to the Opinion of Plato, who says, that Constancy, Faith, and Sincerity, are the true Philosophy, and the other Sciences, that are directed to other ends, to be adulterate and false. I could wish, that Paluel or Pompey, the two famous Dancing-Masters of my Time, could have taught us to cut Capers, by only seeing them do it, without stirring from our Places, as these men pretend to inform the Understanding, without ever setting them to work; or that we could learn to Ride, handle a Pike, touch a Lute, or Sing, without the trouble of Practice, as these attempt to make us Judge, and Speak well, without exercising us in Judging and Speaking. Now in this Initiation of our Studies, and in the Progress of them, whatsoever presents itself before us is Book sufficient; a Roguy Trick of a Page, a sottish Mistake of a Servant, or a Jest at the Table, are so many new Subjects. And for this very Reason, Conversation with men is of very great Use, and Travel into Foreign Countries of singular Advantage; not to bring back (as most of our young Monsieurs do) an Account only of how many Paces Santa Rotonda is in Circuit; or of the Richness of Signiora Livia's Attire; or, as some others, how much Nero's Face, in a Statue in such an old Ruin, is longer and broader than that made for him at such another Place: but to be able chiefly to give an Account of the Humours, Manners, Customs, and Laws of those Nations where he has been. And, that we may whet and sharpen our Wits by rubbing them upon those of others. I would that a Boy should be sent abroad very young (and principally to kill two Birds with one Stone) into those neighbouring Nations whose Language is most differing from our own, and to which, if it be not formed betimes, the Tongue will be grown too stiff to bend. And also 'tis the general Opinion of all, that a Child should not be brought up in his Mother's Lap. Mother's are too tender, and their natural Affection is apt to make the most discreet of them all so overfond, that they can neither find in their Hearts to give them due Correction for the Faults they commit, nor suffer them to be brought up in those Hardships and Hazards they ought to be. They would not endure to see them return all Dust and Sweat from their Exercise, 
Fondness of Mother's pernicious to Education.  to drink cold Drink when they are hot, nor see them mount an unruly Horse, nor take a Foil in hand against a rude Fencer, or so much as to discharge a Carbine: and yet there is no Remedy; whoever will breed a Boy to be good for any thing when he comes to be a Man, must by no means spare him, even when so young, and must very often transgress the Rules of Physic: 

Vitámque sub dio, 
Horat. l. 1. Ode 2.  & trepidis agate  
In rebus.   

He must sharp Cold and scorching Heat despise,  
And most tempt Danger where most Danger lies.   It is not enough to fortify his Soul, you are also to make his Sinews strong; for the Soul will be oppressed, if not assisted by the Members, and would have too hard a Task to discharge two Offices alone. I know very well, to my Cost, how much mine groans under the Burden, for being accommodated with a Body so tender and indisposed, as eternally leans and presses upon her; and often in my Reading perceive, that our Masters, in their Writings, make Examples pass for Magnanimity and Fortitude of Mind, which really is rather Toughness of Skin and Hardness of Bones; for I have seen Men, Women, and Children, naturally born of so hard and insensible a Constitution of Body, that a sound cudgelling has been less to them, than a Flirt with a Finger would have been to me, and that would neither cry out, wince, nor quitch, for a good swinging Beating; and when Wrestlers sergeant the Philosophers in Patience, 'tis rather Strength of Nerves than Stoutness of Heart. Now to be inur'd to undergo Labour, is to be accustomed to endure Grief: Labour callum obducit dolori: Labour supplies Grief with a certain Callus, 
Cicero Tusc. l. 2.  that defends it from the Blow. A Boy is to be inur'd to the Toil and Vehemency of Exercise, to train him up to the Pain, and suffering of Dislocations, colics, Cauteries, and even Imprisonment, and the Rack itself; for he may come, by Misfortune, to be reduced to the worst of these, which (as this World goes) is sometimes inflicted on the Good, as well as the Bad. As for Proof, in our present Civil War, whoever draws his Sword against the Laws, threatens all honest Men with the Whip and the Halter. And moreover, by living at home, the Authority of this Governor, which ought to be sovereign over the Boy he has received into his Charge, is often checked, interrupted, and hindered by the Presence of Parents; to which may also be added, that the Respect the whole Family pay him, as their Master's Son, and the Knowledge he has of the Estate and Greatness he is Heir to, are, in my Opinion, no small Inconveniences in these tender Years. And yet even in this conversing with Men I spoke of but now, I have observed this Vice, That instead of gathering Observations from others, we make it our whole Business to lay ourselves open to them, and are more concerned how to expose and set out our own Commodities, than how to increase our Stock by acquiring new. Silence therefore, and Modesty, are very advantageous Qualities in Conversation: and one should therefore train up this Boy to be sparing, and a good Husband of his Talon of Understanding, when once acquired; and to forbear taking Exceptions at, or reproving every idle Saying, or ridiculous Story, is spoke or told in his Presence; for it is a Rudeness to controvert every thing that is not agreeable to our own Pallat. Let him be satisfied with correcting himself, and not seem to condemn every thing in another he would not do himself, nor dispute against common Customs. Let him be wise without Arrogancy, without Envy. Let him avoid these vain and uncivil Images of Authority, this childish Ambition of coveting to appear better bred, and more accomplished, than he really will by such Carriage discover himself to be, and, as if Opportunities of interrupting and reprehending were not to be omitted, to desire from thence to derive the Reputation of something more than ordinary: for as it becomes none but great Poets to make use of the Poetical Licence, allowed only to those of celebrated Art; it is also intolerable, that any but Men of great and illustrious Souls should be privileged above the Authority of Custom; Si quid Socrates, & Aristippus contra morem, 
Cic. de Offic. l. 1.  & consuetudinem fecerunt, idem sibi ne arbitratur licere: magnis enim illi, & divinis bonis hanc licentiam asseqùebantur. If Socrates and Aristippus have transgressed the Rules of Custom, let him not imagine that he is licenced to do the same; for it was by great and sovereign Virtues that they obtained this Privilege. Let him be instructed not to engage in Discourse, or dispute but with a Champion worthy of him, and even there not to make use of all the little Fallacies and Subtleties that are pat for his Purpose; but only such as may best serve him upon that Occasion. Let him be taught to be curious in the Election and Choice of his Reasons, to abominate Impertinence, and consequently, to affect Brevity; but above all, let him be lessoned to acquiesce and submit to Truth so soon as ever he shall discover it, whether in his Opponent's Argument, or upon better Consideration of his own; for he shall never be preferred to the Chair for a mere clatter of Words and Syllogisms, and is no further engaged to any Argument whatever, than as he shall in his own Judgement approve it: nor yet is Arguing a Trade, where the liberty of Recantation, and getting off upon better Thoughts, are to be sold for ready Money. Neque, ut omnia, quae praescripta & imperata sint, 
Cic. Acad. l. 4.  defendat, necessitate ulla cogitur: Neither is there any Necessity or Obligation upon him at all, that he should defend all things that are recommended to, and and enjoined him. If his Governor be of my Humour, he will form his Will to be a very good and Loyal Subject to his Prince, very affectionate to his Person, and very stout in his Quarrel; but withal, he will cool in him the desire of having any other tye to his Service, than merely a Public Duty; because, besides several other Inconveniences, that are very inconsistent with the honest Liberty every honest man ought to have, a man's Judgement being bribed and prepossessed by these particular Obligations and Favours, is either blinded, 
Dependence upon Princes.  and less free to exercise its Function, or shall be blemished either with Ingratitude or Indiscretion. A man that is purely a Courtier, can neither have Power nor Wit to speak or think otherwise than favourably and well of a Master, who, amongst so many millions of other Subjects, has picked out him with his own hand to nourish and advance. This Favour, and the Profit flowing from it, must needs, and not without some show of Reason, corrupt his Understanding, and deprive him of the freedom of speaking: and also we commonly see these People speak in another kind of Phrase than is ordinarily spoken by others of the same Nation, though what they say in that Courtly Language, is not much to be believed in such Cases. Let his Conscience and Virtue be eminently manifest in his speaking, and have only Reason for their guide. Make him understand, that to acknowledge the Error he shall discover in his own Argument, though only found out by himself, is an effect of Judgement and sincerity, which are the principal things he is to seek after. That Obstinacy and Contention are common qualities, most appearing in, and best becoming a mean and illiterate Soul. That to recollect, and to correct himself, and to forsake an unjust Argument in the height and heat of Dispute, are great, and philosophical Qualities. Let him be advised, being in Company, to have his Eye and Ear in every corner of the Room; for I find that the Places of greatest Honour are commonly possessed by Men that have least in them, and that the greatest Fortunes are not always accompanied with the ablest Parts. I have been present, when, whilst they at the upper end of the Chamber have been only commending the Beauty of the Arras, or the Flavour of the Wine, many things that have been very finely said, have been lost and thrown away at the lower end of the Table. Let him examine every Man's Talon, a Peasant, a Bricklayer, or a Passenger; a Man may learn something from every one of these in their several Capacities, and something will be picked out of their Discourse, whereof some use may be made at one time or another; nay, even the Folly and Impertinence of others will contribute to his Instruction. 
Observation.  By observing the Graces and Fashions of all he sees, he will create to himself an Emulation of the good, and a contempt of the bad. Let an honest curiosity be suggested to his Fancy of being inquisitive after every thing, and whatever there is of singular and rare near the Place where he shall reside, let him go and see it; a fine House, a delicate Fountain, an eminent Man, the Place where a Battle has been anciently fought, and the Passages of Caesar and Charlemagne.  

Quae Tellus sit lenta gelu, quae putris ab aestu,  
Ventus in Italiam quis bene vela ferat. 
Propert. l. 4. Eleg. 39    

What Countries to the Bear objected lie,  
What with the Dog-Star Heats are parched and dry,  
And what Wind fairest serves for Italy.   
Let him inquire into the Manners, Revenues, and Alliances of Princes, things in themselves very pleasant to learn, and very useful to know. In this Conversing with Men, I mean, and principally those who only live in the Records of History, he shall by reading those Books, 
Reading History.  converse with those great and heroic Souls of former and better Ages. 'Tis an idle and vain Study I confess, to those who make it so, by doing it after a negligent manner, but to those who do it with care and Observation, 'tis a study of inestimable Fruit and value; and the only one, as Plato reports, the Lacedæmonians reserved to themselves. What profit shall he not reap as to the Business of Men, by reading the Lives of Plutarch? But withal, let my Governor remember to what end his Instructions are principally directed, and that he do not so much imprint in his Pupils Memory, the date of the Ruin of Carthage, as the Manners of Hannibal and Scipio; nor so much where Marcellus died, as why it was unworthy of his Duty that he died there. That he do not teach him so much the Narative part, as the Business of History. The reading of which, in my Opinion, is a thing that of all others we apply ourselves unto with the most differing, and uncertain Measures. I have read an hundred things in Livy that another has not, or not taken notice of at least, and Plutarch has read an hundred more there than ever I could find, or then peradventure that Author ever Writ. To some it is merely a Grammar Study, to others the very Anatomy of Philosophy, by which the most secret, and abstruse parts of our humane Nature are penetrated into. There are in Plutarch many long Discourses very worthy to be carefully read and observed, 
Elegy of Plutarch.  for he is, in my Opinion, of all other, the greatest Master in that kind of Writing; but withal, there are a thousand others which he has only touched, and glanced upon, where he only points with his Finger to direct us which way we may go if we will, and contents himself sometimes with giving only one brisk hit in the nicest Article of the Question; from whence we are to grope out the rest: as for Example, where he says, That the Inhabitants of Asia came to be Vassals to one only, for not having been able to pronounce one Syllable, which is, No. Which Saying of his, gave perhaps matter and occasion to Boetius to write his Voluntary Servitude. Even this but to see him pick out a light Action in a man's Life; or a Word, that does not seem to be of any such Importance, is itself a whole Discourse. 'Tis to our Prejudice that men of Understanding should so immoderately affect Brevity; no doubt but their Reputation is the better by it: but in the mean time we are the worse. Plutarch had rather we should applaud his Judgement, than commend his Knowledge, and had rather leave us with an Appetite to read more, than glutted with that we have already read. He knew very well, that a Man may say too much even upon the best Subjects, and that Alexandrides did justly reproach him who made very elegant, but too long Speeches to the Ephori, when he said, O Stranger! thou speakest the things thou oughtest to speak, but not after the manner that thou shouldst speak them. Such as have lean and spare Bodies stuff themselves out with clothes; so they who are defective in Matter, endeavour to make amends with Words. Humane Understanding is marvellously enlightened by daily Conversation with men, for we are otherwise of ourselves so stupid as to have our Sight limited to the length of our own Noses. One ask Socrates of what Country he was, he did not make Answer of Athens, but of the World; he whose Imagination is better levelled, could carry further, embraced the whole World for his Country, and extended his Society and Friendship to all Mankind; not as we do, who look no further than our Feet. When the Vines of our Village are nipped with the Frost, the Parish Priest presently concludes, that the Indignation of God is gone out against all Humane Race, and that the Cannibals have already got the Pip. Who is it, that seeing the bloody Havoc of these Civil Wars of ours, does not cry out, That the Machine of the World is near Dissolution, and that the Day of Judgement is at hand; without considering, that many worse Revolutions have been seen, and that, in the mean time, People are very merry in a thousand other Parts of the Earth for all this? For my Part, considering the Licence and Impunity that always attend such Commotions, I admire they are so moderate, and that there is no more Mischief done. To him that feels the Hailstones patter about his Ears, the whole Hemisphere appears to be in Storm and Tempest; like the ridiculous Savoyard, who said very gravely, That if that simple King of France could have managed his Fortune as he should have done, he might in time have come to have been Steward of the Household to the Duke his Master: the Fellow could not, in his shallow Imagination, conceive that there could be any thing greater than a Duke of Savoy. And in truth we are all of us insensibly in this Error, an Error of a very great Train, and very pernicious Consequence. But whoever shall represent to his Fancy, as in a Picture, that great Image of our Mother Nature, portrayed in her full Majesty and Lustre, whoever in her Face shall read so general and so constant a Variety, whoever shall observe himself in that Figure, and not himself but a whole Kingdom, no bigger than the least Touch or Prick of a Pencil in comparison of the whole, that man alone is able to value things according to their true Estimate and Grandeur. This great World which some do yet multiply as several Species under one Genus, is the Mirror wherein we are to behold ourselves, to be able to know ourselves as we ought to do. In short, I would have this to be the Book my young Gentleman should study with the most Attention; for so many Humours, so many Sects, so many Judgements, Opinions, Laws, and Customs, teach us to judge aright of our own, and inform our Understandings to discover their Imperfection and natural Infirmity, which is no trivial Speculation. So many Mutations of States and Kingdoms, and so many Turns and Revolutions of public Fortune, will make us wise enough to make no great wonder of our own. So many great Names, so many famous Victories and Conquests drowned and swallowed in Oblivion, render our Hopes ridiculous of eternising our Names by the taking of half a score light Horse, or a paltry Turret, which only derives its Memory from its Ruin. The Pride and Arrogancy of so many foreign Pomps and Ceremonies, the tumorous Majesty of so many Courts and Grandeurs, accustom and fortify our Sight without Astonishment to behold and endure the lustre of our own. So many millions of men buried before us, encourage us not to fear to go seek so good Company in the other World: and so of all the rest. Pythagoras was wont to say, That our Life retires to the great and populous Assembly of the Olympic Games, wherein some exercise the Body, that they may carry away the Glory of the Prize in those Contentions, and others carry Merchandise to sell for Profit. There are also some (and those none of the worst sort) who pursue no other Advantage than only to look on, and consider how, and why every thing is done, and to be unactive Spectators of the Lives of other men, thereby the better to judge of, and to regulate their own; and indeed, from Examples, all the Instruction couched in Philosophical Discourses, may naturally flow, to which all humane Actions, as to their best Rule, aught to be especially directed: where a Man shall be taught to know, 

— Quid fas optare, 
Persius, Sat. 3.  quid asper  
Vtile nummus habet, patriae charisque propinquis  
Quantum elargiri deceat, quem te Deus esse  
Jussit, & humana qua parte locatus es in re,  
Quid sumus, aut quidnam victuri gignimur.   

What he may wish, what's Money's natural use,  
What to be liberal is, and what profuse,  
What God commands an honest Man should be,  
And here on Earth to know in what Degree  
That God has placed thee, what we are, and why,  
He gave us Being, and Humanity.   What it is to know, and what to be ignorant, what ought to be the End and Design of Study, what Valour, Temperance, and Justice are, the difference betwixt Ambition and Avarice, Servitude and Subjection, Licence and Liberty, by what Token a man may know the true and solid Contentation, how far Death, Affliction, and Disgrace, are to be apprehended. 


Virg. Aen. l. 6.  Et quo quemque modo fugiatque feratque laborem.   

And which way every one may know  
Labour t'avoid or undergo.   By what secret Springs we move, and the Reason of our various Agitations and Irresolutions: for methinks the first Doctrine with which one should season his Understanding, aught to be that which regulates his Manners and his Sense; that teaches him to know himself, and how both well to die, and well to live. Amongst the Liberal Sciences, let us begin with that that makes us free; not that they do not all serve in some measure to the Instruction and Use of Life, as all other things in some sort also do; but let us make choice of that which directly and professedly serves to that end. If we are once able to restrain the Offices of Humane Life within their just and natural Limits, we shall find that most of the Sciences in use are of no great use to us, and even in those that are, that there are many very unnecessary Cavities and Dilatations which we were better to let alone, and following Socrates his Direction, limit the Course of our Studies to those things only where a true and real Utility and Advantage are to be expected and found.  

— Sapere aude,  
Incipe Vivendi, qui recté prorogat Horam,  
Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis, 
Horat. l. 1. Epist. 2.  at ille  
Labitur, & labetur in omne volubilis Ouum.   

Dare to be wise; begin, who to their wrong,  
The Hour of living well defer too long,  
Like Rustic Fools, sit with a patient Eye  
Expecting when the murmuring Brook runs dry,  
Whose Springs can never fail, till the last Fire  
Lick up the Ocean, and the World expire.   
'Tis a great foolery to teach our Children 

Quid moveant Piscis, animosaque signa Leonis,  
Lotus, et Hesperia quid Capricornus aqua. 
Propert, l. 4. Eleg. 1.    

What influence Pisces have, o'er what the ray  
Of angry Leo bears the greatest sway,  
Or Capricornus Province, who still laves  
His threatening Forehead in the Hesperian Waves.   the Knowledge of the Stars and the Motion of the eighth Sphere, before their own.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
Anacreon Ode 17.    

How swift the seven Sister's Motions are,  
Or the dull Churls how slow, what need I care.   
Anaximenes' writing to Pythagoras, To what purpose, said he, should I trouble myself in searching out the Secrets of the Stars, having Death or Slavery continually before my Eyes? For the Kings of Persia were at that time preparing to invade his Country. Every one ought to say the same, Being assaulted, as I am by Ambition, Avarice, Temerity, and Superstition, and having within so many other Enemies of Life, shall I go cudgel my Brains about the World's Revolutions? After having taught him what will make him more wise and good, you may then entertain him with the Elements of Logic, Physic, Geometry, and Rhetoric, and the Science which he shall then himself most incline to, his Judgement being beforehand formed and fit to choose, he will quickly make his own. The Way of instructing him aught to be sometimes by Discourse, and sometimes by reading, sometimes his Governor shall put the Author himself, which he shall think most proper for him, into his Hands, and sometimes only the Marrow and Substance of it; and if himself be not conversant enough in Books to turn to all the fine Discourses the Book contains, there may some Man of Learning be joined to him, that upon every occasion shall supply him with what he desires, and stands in need of, to recommend to his Pupil. And who can doubt, but that this way of teaching is much more easy and natural, than that of Gaza? In which the precepts are so intricate, and so harsh, and the Words so vain, lean, and insignificant, that there is no hold to be taken of them, nothing that quickens and elevates the Wit and Fancy, whereas here the Mind has what to feed upon, and to digest: this Fruit therefore is not only without comparison, much more fair and beautiful; but will also be much more early, and ripe. 'Tis a thousand pities, that Masters should be at such a pass in this Age of ours, that Philosophy, even with Men of Understanding, should be looked upon as a vain, and fantastic Name, a thing of no use, no value, either in Opinion or Effect, of which I think these lousy Ergotismes, and little Sophistry, by prepossessing the Avenues unto it, are the cause. And People are much to blame to represent it to Children for a thing of so difficult access, and with such a frowing, grim, and formidable aspect: who has disguised it thus, with this false, pale, and ghostly Countenance? There is nothing more airy, more gay, more frolic, and I had like to have said, more wanton. She preaches nothing but Feasting and Jollity; a melancholic thoughtful look shows that she does not inhabit there. Demetrius the Grammarian finding in the Temple of Delphos a Knot of Philosophers set chatting together, said to them, Either I am much deceived, or by your cheerful and pleasant Countenances, you are engaged in no very deep Discourse. To which one of them, Heracleon the Magician, replied, 'Tis for such as are puzzled about enquiring whether the future Tense of the Verb 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be spelt with a double λ, or that hunt after the Derivation of the Comparatives 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the Superlatives 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to knit their Brows whilst discoursing of their Science: but as to Philosophical Discourses, they always divert and cheer up those they entertain, and never deject them or make them sad.  


Juven. Sat. 9  Deprendas animi tormenta latentis in aegro  
Corpore, deprendas, & gaudia, sumit utrumque  
Ind habitum facies.   

Th'internal Anguish of a sick Man's mind  
Your Eye may soon discern, and also find  
The Joys of those in better Health that are,  
For still the Face does the Mind's Livery wear.   
The Soul that entertains Philosophy, aught to be of such a Constitution of Health, as to render the Body in like manner healthful too; she ought to make her. Tranquillity and Satisfaction shine so as to appear without, and her Contentment ought to fashion the outward Behaviour to her own Mould, and consequently to fortify it with a graceful Confidence, an active Carriage, and with a serene and contented Countenance. The most manifest sign of Wisdom is a continual Cheerfulness; 
Cheerfulness a sign of Wisdom.  her Estate is like that of things in the Regions above the Moon, always clear and serene. 'Tis Baraco and Baralipton that render their Disciples so dirty and ill-favoured, and not she; they do not so much as know her but by Hear-say. It is she that calms and appeases the Storms and Tempests of the Soul, and who teaches Famine and Fevers to laugh and sing; and that, not by certain imaginary Epicycles, but by natural and manifest Reasons. She has Virtue for her end; which is not, as the Schoolmen say, situate upon the summity of a perpendicular Rock, and an inaccessible Precipice. Such as have approached her, find it quite contrary, to be seated in a fair, fruitful, and flourishing Plain, from whence she easily discovers all things subjected to her; to which Place any one may however arrive, if he know but the easiest and the nearest way, through shady, green, and sweetly flourishing Walks and Avenues, by a pleasant, easy, and smooth Descent, like that of the Celestial Arches: 'Tis for not having frequented this supreme, this beautiful, triumphant, and amiable, this equally delicious and courageous Virtue, this so professed and implacable Enemy to Anxiety, Sorrow, Fear and Constraint, who, having Nature for her Guide, has Fortune and Pleasure for her Companions, that they have gone according to their own weak Imagination, and created this ridiculous, this sorrowful, querulous, despiteful, threatening, terrible Image of it to themselves and others, and placed it upon a solitary Rock amongst Thorns and Brambles, and made of it a Hobgoblin to fright People from daring to approach it. But the Governor that I would have, that is such a one as knows it to be his Duty to possess his Pupil with as much or more Affection than Reverence to Virtue, will be able to inform him, that the Poets have evermore accommodated themselves to the Public Humour, and make him sensible, that the Gods have planted more Toil and Sweat in the Avenues of the Cabinets of Venus, than those of Minerva, which, when he shall once find him begin to apprehend, and shall represent to him a Bradamanta or an Angelica for a Mistress, a natural, active, generous, and not a mankind, but a manly Beauty, in comparison of a soft, delicate, artificial, simpering, and affected form; the one disguised in the Habit of an Heroic Youth, with her beautiful face set out in a glittering Helmet, the other tricked up in Curls and Ribbons like a wanton Minx; he will then look upon his own Affection as brave and Masculine, when he shall choose quite contrary to that effeminate Shepherd of Phrygia. Such a Tutor will make a Pupil to digest this new Doctrine, that the height and value of true Virtue consists in the Facility, Utility, and Pleasure of its Exercise; so far from Difficulty, that Boys, as well as Men, and the innocent as well as the subtle, may make it their own; and it is by Order and good Conduct, and not by Force, that it is to be acquired. Socrates, her first Minion, is so averse to all manner of Violence, as totally to throw it aside, to slip into the more natural Facility of her own Progress: 'Tis the Nursing-Mother of all humane Pleasures, who in rendering them just, renders them also pure and permanent; in moderating them, keeps them in Breath and Appetite; in interdicting those which she herself refuses, whets our Desire to those that she allows; and, like a kind and liberal Mother, abundantly allows all that Nature requires, even to Satiety, if not to Lassitude; unless we will declaim, That the Regiment of Health stops the Toper's Hand before he have drank himself Drunk, the Gluttons before he have eaten to a Surfeit, and the Whoremaster's Career before he have got the Pox, is an Enemy to Pleasure. If the ordinary Fortune fail, and that she meet with an indocile Disposition, she passes that Disciple by, and takes another, not so fickle and unsteady as the other, which she forms wholly her own. She can be Rich, be Potent and Wise, and knows how to lie upon soft Down, and perfumed Quilts too: she loves Life, Beauty, Glory, and Health; but her proper and peculiar Office is to know regularly how to make use of all these good things, and how to part with them without Concern: an Office much more noble than troublesome, and without which the whole Course of Life is unnatural, turbulent, and deformed; and there it is indeed, that Men may justly represent those Monsters upon Rocks and Precipices. If this Pupil shall happen to be of so cross and contrary a Disposition, that he had rather hear a Tale of a Tub than the true Narrative of some noble Expedition, or some wise and learned Discourse; who at the Beat of Drum, that excites the youthful Ardour of his Companions, leaves that to follow another that calls to a Morris, or the Bears, and who would not wish, and find it more delightful, and more pleasing, to return all Dust and Sweat victorious from a Battle, than from Tennis, or from a Ball, with the Prize of those Exercises; I see no other Remedy, but that he be bound Apprentice in some good Town to learn to make minced Pies, though he were the Son of a Duke, according to Plato's Precept, That Children are to be placed out, and disposed of, not according to the Wealth, Qualities, or Condition of the Father, but according to the Faculties and the Capacity of their own Soul. But since Philosophy is that which instructs us to live, and that Infancy has there its Lessons as well as other Ages, why is it not communicated to Children betimes? And why are they not more early initiated in it?  

Vdum, & molle lutum est, nunc, 
Pers. sit. 3.  nunc properandus, & acri  
Fingendus sine fine rota.   

The Clay is moist and soft, now, now make haste,  
And form the Pitcher, for the Wheel turns fast.   
They begin to teach us to live when we have almost done living. A hundred Students have got the Pox before they have come to read Aristotle's Lecture of Temperance. Cicero said, That though he should live two men's Ages, he should never find leisure to study the Lyric Poets; and I find these Sophisters yet more deplorably unprofitable. The Boy we would breed has a great deal less time to spare; he owes but the first fifteen or sixteen Years of his Life to Discipline, the Remainder is due to Action: let us therefore employ that short time in necessary Instruction. Away with the Logical Subtleties, they are Abuses, things by which our Lives can never be amended: take me the plain Philosophical Discourses, learn first how rightly to choose, and then rightly to apply them, they are more easy to be understood than one of Bocace his Novels; a Child from Nurse is much more capable of them, than of learning to read or to write. Philosophy has Discourses equally proper for Childhood, as for the decrepit Age of Men; 
Aristotle's method of Instructing Alexander the Great.  and I am of Plutarch's mind, that Aristotle did not so much trouble his great Disciple with the Knack of forming Syllogisms, or with the Elements of Geometry, as with infusing into him good Precepts concerning Valour, Prowess, Magnanimity, Temperance, and the Contempt of Fear; and with this Ammunition, sent him, whilst yet a Boy, with no more than 30000 Foot, 4000 Horse, and but 42000 Crowns, to subjugate the Empire of the whole Earth. For the other Arts and Sciences, Alexander, says, he highly indeed commended their Excellency and Quaintness, and had them in very great Honour and Esteem, but not ravished with them to that degree, as to be tempted to affect the Practice of them in his own Person.  


Pers. Sat. 5. — Petite hinc juvenesque, senesque  
Finem animo certum, miserique viatica canis.   

Young men, and old, from hence yourselves befriend,  
For both your Minds, with some sure aim and end;  
And both therein against the time to come,  
Wretched old Age, get a Viaticum.   
Epicurus, in the beginning of his Letter to Meniceus, says, That neither the youngest should refuse to Philosophise, nor the eldest grow weary of it: and who does otherwise, seems tacitly to imply, that either the time of living happily is not yet come, or, that it is already past: and yet for all that, I would not have this Pupil of ours imprisoned, and made a Slave to his Book; nor would I have him given up to the Morosity, and melancholic Humour, of a sour, ill-natured Pedant. I would not have his Spirit cowed and subdued, by applying him to the Rack, and tormenting him as some do, 14 or 15 Hours a day, and so make a Packhorse of him. Neither should I think it good, when, by reason of a solitary and melancholic Complexion, he is discovered to be much addicted to his Book, to nourish that Humour in him: for that renders them unfit for Civil Conversation, and diverts them from better Employments. And how many have I seen in my time totally brutified by an immoderate Thirst after Knowledge? Carneades was so besotted with it, that he would not find time so much as to comb his Head, or to pair his Nails; neither would I have his generous Manners spoiled and corrupted by the Incivility and Barbarity of those of another. The French Wisdom has anciently been turned into Proverb, Early, but of no Continuance; and in truth, we yet see, that nothing can be more ingenious and pretty than the Children of France; but they ordinarily deceive the Hope and Expectation hath been conceived of them; and grown up to be men, have nothing extraordinary, or worth taking notice of. I have heard men of good Understanding say, these Colleges of ours to which we send our young People (and of which we have but too many) make them such Animals as they are. But to our little Monsieur, a Closet, a Garden, the Table, his Bed, Solitude and Company, Morning and Evening, all Hours shall be the same, and all Places to him a Study; for Philosophy, who, as the Formatrix of Judgement and Manners, shall be his principal Lesson, has that privilege to have a hand in every thing. The Orator Isocrates, being at a Feast entreated to speak of his Art, all the Company were satisfied with, and commended his Answer; It is not now a time, said he, to do what I can do; and that which it is now time to do, I cannot do. For to make Orations and Rhetorical Disputes in a Company met together to laugh and make good cheer, had been very unseasonable and improper, and as much might have been said of all the other Sciences: But as to what concerns Philosophy, that part of it at least that treats of Man, and of his Offices and Duties, it has been the joint Opinion of all wise men, that, out of respect to the sweetness of her Conversation, she is ever to be admitted in all Sports and Entertainments. And Plato, having invited her to his Feast, we shall see after how gentle and obliging a manner, accommodated both to Time and Place, she entertained the Company, though in a Discourse of the highest and most important nature. 

Aequè pauperibus prodest locupletibus aequè,  
Et neglecta aequè pueris, senibusque nocebit. 
Horat. l. 1. Epist. 1.    

It profits poor and rich alike, but when  
Neglected, t' old and young as hurtful then.   By which method of Instruction, my young Pupil will be much more, and better employed than those of the College are: but as the steps we take in walking to and fro in a Gallery, though three times as many, do not tyre a man so much as those we employ in a formal Journey, so our Lesson, as it were accidentally occurring, without any set obligation of Time or Place, and falling naturally into every action, will insensibly insinuate itself. By which means our very Exercises and Recreations, Running, Wrestling, Music, Dancing, Hunting, Riding, and Fencing, will prove to be a good part of our study. 
Behaviour.  I would have his outward fashion and mien, and the disposition of his Limbs formed at the same time with his Mind. 'Tis not a Soul, 'tis not a Body that we are training up, but a man, and we ought not to divide him. And, as Plato says, we are not to fashion one without the other, but make them draw together like two Horses harnessed to a Coach. By which Saying of his, does he not seem to allow more time for, and to take more care of Exercises for the Body, 
Exercises.  and to believe that the Mind in a good Proportion does her Business at the same time too? As to the rest, this Method of Education ought to be carried on with a severe sweetness, quite contrary to the practice of our Pedants, who, instead of tempting and alluring Children to Letters by apt and gentle ways, do in truth present nothing before them but Rods and Ferula's, 
Severity an Enemy to Education.  Horror and Cruelty. Away with this Violence! away with this Compulsion! than which, I certainly believe nothing more dulls and degenerates a well-descended Nature. If you would have him apprehend shame and chastisement, do not harden him to them. Inure him to Heat and Cold, to Wind and Sun, and to Dangers that he ought to despise. Wean him from all effeminacy, and delicacy in clothes and Lodging, Eating and Drinking; accustom him to every thing, that he may not be a Sir Paris, a Carpet-Knight, but a sinewy, hardy, and vigorous young man. I have ever from a Child to the age wherein I now am, been of this opinion, and am still constant to it. But amongst other things, the strict Government of most of our Colleges has evermore displeased me, and peradventure they might have erred less perniciously on the indulgent side. 'Tis the true House of Correction of imprisoned Youth. They are taught to be debauched, by being punished before they are so. Do but come in when they are about their Lesson, and you shall hear nothing but the out-cries of Boys under execution, with the thundering noise of their Pedagogues, drunk with Fury, to make up the Consort. A very pretty way this! to tempt these tender and timorous Souls to love their Book, with a furious Countenance, and a Rod in hand! A cursed and pernicious way of Proceeding! Besides what Quintilian has very well observed, that this insolent Authority is often attended by very dangerous Consequences, and particularly our way of Chastising. How much more decent would it be to see their Classes strewed with green Leaves and fine Flowers, than with the bloody Stump of Birch and Willows? Were it left to my ordering, I should paint the School with the Pictures of Joy and Gladness; Flora, and the Graces, as the Philosopher Spencippus did his; that where their Profit is, they might there have their Pleasure too. Such Viands as are proper and wholesome for Children, should be seasoned with Sugar, and such as are dangerous to them, with Gall. A Man would admire to see how solicitous Plato is in his Laws concerning the Gaiety and Diversion of the Youth of his City, and how much he enlarges himself upon their Races, Sports, Songs, Leaps, and Dances: of which, he says, that Antiquity has given the ordering and Patronage particularly to Apollo, Minerva, and the Muses. He insists long upon, and is very particular in giving innumerable Precepts for Exercises; but as to the Lettered Sciences, says very little, and only seems particularly to recommend Poecy upon the Account of Music. All Singularity in our Manners and Conditions, is by all means to be avoided, as inconsistent with civil Society. Who would not be astonished at so strange a Constitution as that of Demophon, Steward to Alexander the Great, who sweat in the Shade, and shivered in the Sun? I have seen those who have run from the smell of a mellow Apple with greater Precipitation than from a Harquebus Shot; others run away from a Mouse; others vomit at the sight of Cream, others ready to swoon at the sight of a Cat, as Germanicus, who could neither endure the Sight nor the Crowing of a Cock. I will not deny, but that there may peradventure be some occult Cause and natural Aversion in these Cases; but certainly a Man might conquer it, if he took it in time. Precept has in this wrought so effectually upon me, though not without some Endeavour on my part, I confess, that Beer excepted, my Appetite accommodates itself indifferently to all sorts of Diet. Young Bodies are supple, one should therefore in that Age bend and ply them to all Fashions and Customs: and provided a Man can contain the Appetite and the Will within their due Limits, let a Youngman, a God's Name, be rendered fit for all Nations and all Companies, even to Debauchery and Excess if occasion be; that is, where he shall do it out of Complacency to the Customs of the Place. Let him be able to do every thing, but love to do nothing but what is good. The Philosophers themselves do not justify calisthenes for forfeiting the Favour of his Master Alexander the Great, by refusing to pledge him a Cup of Wine. Let him laugh, play, and drink with his Prince: nay I would have him, even in his Debauches, too hard for the rest of the Company, and to excel his Companions in Ability and Vigour, and that he may not give over doing it, either through Defect of Power or Knowledge how to do it, but for want of Will. 
Seneca, Epist. 60.  Multum interest, utrum peccare quis nolit, aut nesciat; There is a vast Difference betwixt forbearing to sin, and not knowing how to sin. I thought I passed a Compliment upon a Lord, as free from those Excesses as any man whatever in France, by ask him before a great deal of very good Company, How many times in his Life he had been drunk in Germany, in the time of his being there about his Majesty's Affairs; which he also took as it was intended, and made Answer, Three times; and withal, told us the whole Story of his Debauches. I know some, who for want of this Faculty, have found a great Inconvenience by it in negotiating with that Nation. I have often with great Admiration reflected upon the wonderful Constitution of Alcibiades, who so easily could transform himself to so various Fashions without any Prejudice to his Health; one while outdoing the Persian Pomp and Luxury, and another, the Lacedaemonian Austerity and Frugality, as reformed in Sparta, as voluptuous in jonia. 


Horat. l. 1▪ Epist. 17.  Omnis Aristippum decuit colour, & status, & res.   

All Shapes and Colours you can name  
Aristippus well became.   I would have my Pupil to be such a one, 


Id. ibid. — Quem duplici panno patientia velat,  
Mirabor vitae via si conversa decebit,  
Personamque feret non inconcinnus utramque   

Whom Patience in patched clothes does meanly shade,  
Where a new Fortune a new Suit has made,  
I shall admire if gracefully he can  
Th' old Beggar hide in the new Gentleman.    
These are my Lessons, and he who puts them in practice shall reap more advantage than he who has had them read to him only, and only knows them. If you see him, you hear him: if you hear him, you see him. God forbid, says one in Plato, that to Philosophise were only to read a great many Books, and to learn the Arts. 
Cic. Tusc. 4.  Hanc amplissimam omnium artium bene vivendi disciplinam, vita magis quem literis persecuti sunt: They have more illustrated and improved this Discipline of living well, which of all Arts is the greatest, by their Lives, than by their Reading. Leo, Prince of the Phliasians, ask Heraclides Ponticus of what Art or Science he made Profession; I know, said he, neither Art nor Science, but I am a Philosopher. One reproaching Diogenes, that, being ignorant, he should pretend to Philosophy; I therefore, answered he, pretend to it with so much the more reason. Hegesias, entreated that he would read a certain Book to him; You are pleasant, said he, you choose those Figs that are true and natural, and not those that are painted; why do you not also choose Exercises which are naturally true, rather than those written and prescribed? A Man cannot so soon get his Lesson by Heart as he may practise it: he will repeat it in his Actions. We shall discover if there be Prudence in his Exercises, if there be Sincerity and Justice in his Deportments, if there be Grace and Judgement in his Speaking, if there be Constancy in his Sickness, if there be Modesty in his Mirth, Temperance in his Pleasures, Order in his Oeconomy, and Indifferency in his palate, whether what he eats or drinks be Flesh or Fish, 
Cic. ibid.  Wine or Water. Qui disciplinam suam non ostentationem scientiae, sed legem vitae putet: quique obtemperet ipse sibi, & decretis pareat; Who considers his own Discipline, not as a vain Ostentation of Science, but as a Law and Rule of Life; and who obeys his own Decrees, and observes that Regiment he has prescribed to himself. The Conduct of our Lives is the true mirror of our Doctrine. Zeupidamus, to one who asked him, Why the Lacedæmonians did not commit their Constitutions of Chivalry to Writing, and deliver them to their Youngmen to read; made Answer, That it was because they would inure them to Action, and not amuse them with Words: with such a one, after fifteen or sixteen Years study, compare one of our College Latinists, who has thrown away so much time in nothing but learning to speak. The World is nothing but Babble; and I hardly ever yet saw that Man who did not rather Prate too much, than Speak too little; and yet half of our Age is embezzled this way. We are kept four or five Years to learn Words only, and to tack them together into Clauses; as many more to make Exercises, and to divide a continued Discourse into so many Parts; and other five Years at least to learn succinctly to mix and interweave them after a subtle and intricate manner. Let us leave it to the learned Professors. Going one day to Orleans, I met in the Plain on this side Clery two Pedants travelling towards Bourdeaux, about fifty Paces distant from one another, and a good way further behind them, I discovered a Troop of Horse, with a Gentleman in the Head of them, which was the late Monsieur le Comte de la Rochefoucaut: one of my People enquired of the foremost of these Domines, who that Gentleman was that came after him, who having not seen the Train that followed after, and I thinking he meant his Companion, pleasantly answered, 
A pleasant Answer of a Pedant.  He is not a Gentleman, Sir; he is a Grammarian, and I am a Logician. Now we who quite contrary, do not here pretend to breed a Grammarian, or a Logician, but a complete Gentleman, let us leave them to throw away their Time at their own Fancy: our Business lies elsewhere. Let but our Pupil be well furnished with Things, Words will follow but too fast; he will pull them after him if they do not voluntarily follow. I have observed some to make Excuses, that they cannot express themselves, and pretend to have their Fancies full of a great many very fine things, which yet, for want of Elocution, they cannot utter; a mere Shift, and nothing else. Will you know what I think of it? I think they are nothing but shadows of some imperfect Images and Conceptions that they know not what to make of within, nor consequently bring them out: they do not yet themselves understand what they would be at, and if you but observe how they haggle, and stammer upon the point of Parturition, you will soon conclude, that their Labour is not to Delivery, but about Conception, and that they are but licking their formeless Embryo. For my part, I hold, and Socrates is positive in it, that whoever has in his Mind a sprightly and clear Imagination, he will express it well enough in one kind or another, and, though he were dumb, by Signs. 


Hor. de Art P●eti.  Verbaque praevisam rem non invita sequentur.   

When once a thing conceived is in the Wit,  
Words soon present themselves to utter it.   And as another as poetically says in Prose, cum Res Animum occupavare, 
Seneca.  Verba ambiunt. When things are once formed in the Fancy, Words offer themselves in muster: and this other, 
Cicero de ●in. l. 3.  ipsae res Verba rapiunt. The things themselves force Words to express them. He knows nothing of Ablative, Conjunctive, Substantive, or Grammar, no more than his Lackey, or a Fishwife of the Petit Pont; and yet these will give you a Belly full of talk if you will hear them, and peradventure shall trip as little in their Language as the best Masters of Art in France. He knows no Rhetoric, nor how in a Preface to bribe the Benevolence of the courteous Reader; neither does he care, nor is it very necessary he should know it. Indeed all this Decoration of Painting is easily obscured and put down by the Lustre of a simple and blunt Truth: these fine Flourishes serve only to amuse the Vulgar, of themselves incapable of more solid and nutritive Diet, as Afer does very evidently demonstrate in Tacitus. The Ambassadors of Samos, prepared with a long and elegant Oration, came to Cleomenes King of Sparta to incite him to a War against the Tyrant Polycrates; who after he had heard their Harangue with great Gravity and Patience, gave them this short Answer; As to the Exordium, I remember it not, nor consequently the middle of your Speech; but for what concerns your Conclusion, I will not do what you desire: A very pretty Answer this, methinks, and a pack of learned Orators no doubt most sweetly confounded. And what did this other say? The Athenians were to choose one of two Architects for a Surveyor to a very great Building they had designed, of which, the first, a pert affected Fellow, offered his Service in a long premeditated Discourse upon the Subject, and by his Oratory inclined the Voices of the People in his Favour; but the other in three Words, Lords of Athens, All that this Man hath said I will do. When Cicero was in the height and heat of his Eloquence, many were struck with Admiration; but Cato did only laugh at it, saying, We have a pleasant 
* Ridiculum Consulum.  Consul. Let it go before, or come after, a good Sentence, or a thing well said, is always in season, if it neither suit well with what went before, nor has any very good Coherence with what follows after, it is however good in itself. I am none of those who think that good Rhyme makes a good Poem. Let him make short long, and long short if he will, 'tis no great matter; if there be Invention, and that the Wit and Judgement have well performed their Offices, I will say here's a good Poet, but an ill Rhymer. 


Hor. ser. lib. sat. 4.  Emunctae naris, durus componere versus.   

His Fancy's rich, his Sense is clear  
In Verse, though he has no good ear.   Let a Man, says Horace, divest his Work of all Ornaments and Measure, 

Tempora certa, modosque, & quod prius ordine verbum est,  
Posterius faciat, praeponens ultima primis,  
Invenias etiam disjecti membra Poetae:   

Let Tense, and Mood, and Words be all misplaced,  
Those last that should be first, those first, the last,  
Tho all things be thus shuffled out of Frame,  
You'll yet a Poem find in 
* According to that of Doctor Donne, D. of St. Paul's  Anagram.   He will never the more forfeit his Praise for that; the very pieces will be fine by themselves. Menander's Answer had this Meaning, who being reproved by a Friend, the time drawing on at which he had precisely promised a Comedy that he had not yet fallen in hand with it, It is made, and ready, said he, all to the Verses. Having contrived the Subject, and disposed the Scenes in his Fancy, he took little care for the rest. Since Ronsard and du Bellay have given Reputation to our French Poesy, every little Dabbler, for aught I see, swells his Words as high, and makes his Cadences very near as harmonious as they. Plus sonat, quam valet; 
Seneca, Epist. 40.  There were never so many Poetasters as now; but though they find it no hard matter to rhyme as musically as they, they yet fall infinitely short of imitating the brave Descriptions of the one, and the curious Invention of the other. But what will become of our young Gentleman, if he be attacked with the sophistick Subtlety of some Syllogism? A Westphalia Ham makes a Man drink, quenches Thirst; therefore a Westphalia Ham quenches Thirst. Why let him laugh at it, and it will be more Discretion to do so, than to go about to answer it: or let him borrow this pleasant Evasion from Aristippus, Why should I trouble myself to untie that, which, bound as it is, gives me so much trouble? One offering at this dialectic Juggling against Cleanthes, Chrysippus took him short, saying, Reserve these Baubles to play with Children, and do not by such Fooleries divert the serious Thoughts of a man of Years. If these ridiculous Subtleties, contorta, & aculeata Sophismata, 
Cicero Acad. l. 4.  as Cicero calls them, are designed to possess him with an Untruth, they are then dangerous; but if they signify no more than only to make him laugh, I do not see why they should be so considerable, that a man need to be fortified against them. There are some so ridiculous, as to go a Mile out of their way to hook in a fine Word: 
Quint. l. 8.  Aut qui non verba rebus aptant, sed res arcessunt, quibus verba conveniant; Who do not fit Words to the Subject, but seek out for things quite from the Purpose to fit those Words they are so enamoured of. And as another says, 
Sen. Ep. 59  Qui alicujus verbi decore placentis vocentur ad id, quod non proposuerant scribere; Who by their Fondness of some fine sounding Word, are tempted to something they had no Intention to treat of. I for my part rather bring in a fine Sentence by Head and Shoulders to fit my purpose, than divert my Designs to hunt after a Sentence. On the contrary, Words are to serve, and to follow a man's purpose; and let Gascon come in Play where French will not do. I would have things so exceed, and wholly possess the Imagination of him that hears, that he should have something else to do, than to think of Words. The way of Speaking that I love, is natural and plain, as well in Writing as Speaking, and a sinewy and significant way of expressing a man's self, short and pithy, and not so elegant and artificial as prompt and vehement. 

Haec demum sapiet dictio, quae seriet. 
Epist. Lucani.    

Most Weight and Wisdom does that Language bear,  
Does pierce and captivate the Hearers Ear.   Rather hard than harsh, free from Affectation; irregular, incontiguous, and bold, where every Piece makes up an entire Body; not like a Pedant, a Preacher, or a Pleader, but rather a Soldierlike Style, as Suetonius calls that of Julius Caesar; and yet I see no reason why he should call it so. I have never yet been apt to imitate the negligent Garb, which is yet observable amongst the Youngmen of our time, to wear my Cloak on one Shoulder, my Bonnet on one side, and one Stocking in something more Disorder than the other, which seems to express a kind of manly Disdain of those exotic Ornaments, and a Contempt of Art; but I find that Negligence of much better use in the form of Speaking. All Affectation, 
Affectation unbecoming a Courtier.  particularly in the French Gaiety and Freedom, is ungraceful in a Courtier, and in a Monarchy every Gentleman ought to be fashioned according to the Court Model; for which reason, an easy and natural Negligence does well. I no more like a Web where the Knots and Seams are to be seen, than a fine Proportion, so delicate, that a man may tell all the Bones and Veins. 
Seneca, Epist. 40.  Quae veritati operam dat oratio, incomposita sit, & simplex. Quis accuratè loquitur, nisi qui vult putidè loqui? Let the Language that is dedicated to Truth be plain and unaffected. For who studies to speak quaintly and accurately, that does not at the same time design to perplex his Auditory? That Eloquence prejudices the Subject it would advance, that wholly attracts us to itself. And as in our outward Habit, 'tis a ridiculous Effeminacy to distinguish ourselves by a particular and unpractised Garb or Fashion; so in Language, to study new Phrases, and to affect Words that are not of current use, proceeds from a Childish and Scholastic Ambition. Shall I be bound to speak no other Language than what is spoken in the Courts of Paris? Aristophanes' the Grammarian was a little out, when he reprehended Epicurus for this plain way of delivering himself, the End and Design of his Oratory being only Perspicuity of Speech, and to be understood. The Imitation of Words by its own Facility, immediately disperses itself through a whole People: but the imitation of inventing, and fitly applying those Words, is of a slower Progress. The Generality of Readers, for having found a like Robe, very mistakingly imagine they have the same Body and Inside too, whereas Force and Sinews are never to be borrowed, the Gloss and outward Ornament, that is, Words and Elocution, may. Most of those I converse with, speak the same Language I here write; but whether they think the same Thoughts I cannot say. The Athenians (says Plato) are observed to study length and elegancy of Speaking; the Lacedæmonians to affect Brevity; and those of Crect to aim more at the Fecundity of Conception than the Fertility of Speech; and these are the best. Zenon used to say, that he had two sorts of Disciples, one that he called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, curious to learn things, and these were his Favourites; the other, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that cared for nothing but Words: not that fine Speaking is not a very good and commendable Quality; but not so excellent and so necessary as some would make it; and I am scandalised that our whole Life should be spent in nothing else. I would first understand my own Language, and that of my Neighbours with whom most of my Business and Conversation lies. No doubt but Greek and Latin are very great Ornaments, and of very great use, but we buy them too dear: I will here discover one way, which also has been experimented in my own Person, by which they are to be had better cheap, and such may make use of it as will. My Father having made the most precise Enquiry that any man could possibly make amongst Men of the greatest Learning and Judgement, of an exact method of Education, was by them cautioned of the Inconvenience then in use, and made to believe, that the tedious time we applied to the learning of the Tongues of them who had them for nothing, was the sole cause we could not arrive to that Grandeur of Soul, and Perfection of Knowledge, with the ancient Greeks and Romans: I do not however believe that to be the only Cause: but the Expedient my Father found out for this, was, that in my Infancy, and before I began to speak, he committed me to the care of a Germane, 
The Author's Education.  who since died a famous Physician in France, totally ignorant of our Language, but very fluent, and a great Critic in Latin. This Man, whom he had fetched out of his own Country, and whom he entertained with a very great Salary for this only end, had me continually in his Arms: to whom there were also joined two others of the same Nation, but of inferior Learning, to attend me, and sometimes to relieve him; who all of them entertained me with no other Language but Latin. As to the rest of his Family, it was an inviolable Rule, that neither Himself, nor my Mother, Man nor Maid, should speak any thing in my Company, but such Latin Words as every one had learned only to gabble with me. It is not to be imagined how great an advantage this proved to the whole Family, my Father, and my Mother, by this means learning Latin enough to understand it perfectly well, and to speak it to such a Degree, as was sufficient for any necessary Use; as also those of the Servants did, who were most frequent with me. To be short, we did Latin it at such a Rate, that it overflowed to all the Neighbouring Villages, where there yet remain, that have established themselves by Custom, several Latin Appellations of Artisans and their Tools. As for what concerns myself, I was above six years of Age before I understood either French or Perigordin, any more than Arabic, and without Art, Book, Grammar, or Precept, Whipping, or the expense of a Tear, had by that time learned to speak as pure Latin as my Master himself. If (for Example) they were to give me a Theme after the College fashion, they gave it to others in French, but to me they were of necessity to give it in the worst Latin, to turn it into that which was pure and good; and Nicholas Grouchi, who writ a Book de Comitiis Romanorum; William Guirentes, who has writ a Comment upon Aristotle; George Bucanan, that great Scotch Poet, and Marcus Antonius Muretus (whom both France and Italy have acknowledged for the best Orator of his time) my domestic Tutors, have all of them often told me, that I had in my Infancy that Language so very fluent and ready, that they were afraid to enter into Discourse with me; and particularly Bucanan, whom I since saw attending the late Marshal de Brissac, then told me, that he was about to write a Treatise of Education, the Example of which, he intended to take from mine, for he was then Tutor to that Count de Brissac who afterwards proved so valiant and so brave a Gentleman. As to Greek, of which I have but a very little Smattering, my Father also designed to have it taught me by a Trick; but a new one, and by way of sport; tossing our Declensions to and fro, after the manner of those, who by certain Games at Tables and Chess, learn Geometry and Arithmetic: for he, amongst other Rules, had been advised to make me relish Science and Duty by an unforced Will, and of my own voluntary motion, and to educate my Soul in all Liberty and Delight, without any Severity or Constraint. Which also he was an Observer of to such a degree, even of Superstition, if I may say so, that some being of Opinion, it did trouble and disturb the Brains of Children suddenly to wake them in the Morning, and to snatch them violently and over-hastily from Sleep, (wherein they are much more profoundly involved than we) he only caused me to be waked by the Sound of some musical Instrument, and was never unprovided of a Musician for that purpose: by which Example you may judge of the rest, this alone being sufficient to recommend both the Prudence and the Affection of so good a Father; who therefore is not to be blamed if he did not reap Fruits answerable to so exquisite a Culture: of which, two things were the cause. First, a sterile and improper Soil: for, though I was of a strong and healthful Constitution, and of a Disposition tolerably sweet and tractable; yet I was withal so heavy, idle, and indisposed, that they could not rouse me from this Stupidity to any Exercise of Recreation, nor get me out to play. What I saw, I saw clearly enough, and under this lazy Complexion nourished a bold Imagination, and Opinions above my Age. I had a slothful Wit, that would go no faster than it was led, a slow Understanding, a languishing Invention, and after all, incredible defect of Memory; so that it is no wonder, if from all these nothing considerable can be extracted. Secondly, (like those, who, impatient of a long and steady cure, submit to all sorts of Prescriptions and Receipts) the good Man being extremely timorous of any way failing in a thing he had so wholly set his Heart upon, suffered himself at last to be overruled by the common Opinion, and complying with the method of the time, having no more those Persons he had brought out of Italy, and who had given him the first Model of Education, about him, he sent me at six Years of Age to the College of Guienne, at that time the best and most flourishing in France. And there it was not possible to add any thing to the care he had to provide me the most able Tutors, with all other Circumstances of Education, reserving also several particular Rules contrary to the College Practice; but so it was, that with all these Precautions, it was a College still. My Latin immediately grew corrupt, of which also by Discontinuance I have since lost all manner of use: so that this new way of Institution served me to no other end, than only at my first coming to prefer me to the first Forms: for at thirteen Years old, that I came out of the College, I had run through my whole Course (as they call it) and in truth without any manner of Improvement, that I can honestly brag of, in all this time. The first thing that gave me any Taste of Books, was the Pleasure I took in reading the Fables of Ovid's Metamorphoses, and with them I was so taken, that being but Seven or Eight Years old, I would steal from all other Divertisements to read them, both by reason that this was my own natural Language, the easiest Book that I was acquainted with, and for the Subject, the most accommodated to the Capacity of my Age: for as for Lancelot du Lake, Amadis de Gaul, Huon of Bourdeaux, and such Trumpery, which Children are most delighted with, I had never so much as heard their Names, no more than I yet know what they contain; so exact was the Discipline wherein I was brought up. But this was enough to make me neglect the other Lessons were prescribed me; and here it was infinitely to my Advantage, to have to do with an understanding Tutor, who very well knew discreetly to connive at this and other Truantries of the same nature; for by this means I ran through Virgil's Aeneids, Terence, Plautus, and some Italian Comedies, allured by the Softness and Pleasure of the Subject; whereas had he been so foolish as to have taken me off this Diversion, I do really believe, I had brought nothing away from the College but a Hatred of Books, as almost all our young Gentlemen do: but he carried himself very discreetly in that Business, seeming to take no notice, and allowing me only such time as I could steal from my other regular, and yet moderate Studies, which whetted my Appetite to devour those Books I was naturally so much in love with before. For the chief things my Father expected from their Endeavour to whom he had delivered me for Education, was Affability of Manners, and good Humour; and, to say the Truth, mine had no other Vice but Sloth and want of Metal. There was no fear that I would do ill, but that I would do nothing; no body suspected that I would be wicked, but useless; they foresaw an Idleness, but no Malice in my Nature; and I find it falls out accordingly. The Complaints I hear of myself are these, he is idle, cold in the Offices of Friendship and Relation, and remiss in those of the Public; he is too particular, he is too proud: but the most Injurious do not say, Why has he taken such a thing? Why has he not paid such a one? But why does he part with nothing? Why does he not give? And I should take it for a Favour that Men would expect from me no greater Effects of Supererogation than these. But they are unjust to exact from me what I do not owe; and in condemning me to it, they efface the Gratification of the Act, and deprive me of the Gratitude that would be due to me upon such a Bounty; whereas the active Benefit ought to be of so much the greater Value from my hands, by how much I am not passive that way at all. I can the more freely dispose of my Fortune the more it is mine, and of myself, the more I am my own. Nevertheless, if I were good at setting out my own Actions, I could peradventure very well repel these Reproaches, and could give some to understand, that they are not so much offended, that I do not enough, as that I am able to do a great deal more than I do. Yet for all this heavy Disposition of mine, my Mind, when retired into itself, was not altogether idle, nor wholly deprived of solid Inquisition, nor of certain and infallible Results about those Objects it could comprehend, and could also without any Helps digest them; but amongst other things, I do really believe, it had been totally impossible to have made it to submit by Violence and Force. Shall I here acquaint you with one Faculty of my Youth? I had great Boldness and Assurance of Countenance, and to that a Flexibility of Voice and Gesture to any Part I undertook to act. 

Alter ab undecimo tum me vix ceperat annus. 
Virg. Bucol. 8.    

For the next Year to my eleventh had  
Me but a very few days older made,   When I played the chiefest Parts in the Latin Tragedies of Bucanan, Guerente, and Muretus, that were presented in our College of Guienne, with very great Applause: wherein Andreas Goveanus, our Principal, as in all other Parts of his Undertaking, was, without Comparison, the best of that Employment in France; and I was looked upon as one of the chief Actors. 'Tis an Exercise that I do not disapprove in young People of Condition, and have since seen our Princes, by the Example of the Ancients, in Person handsomely and commendably perform these Exercises; and it was moreover allowed to Persons of the greatest Quality to profess, and make a Trade of it in Greece. 
Liv. l. 6.26.  Aristoni Tragico actori rem aperit: huic & genus, & fortuna honesta erant: nec Ars, quia nihil tale apud Graecos pudori est ea deformabat. He imparted this Affair to Aristo the Tragedian, a man of a good Family and Fortune, which nevertheless, did neither of them receive any Blemish by that Profession; nothing of that kind being reputed a Disparagement in Greece. Nay, I have always taxed those with Impertinence who condemn these Entertainments, and with Injustice those who refuse to admit such Comedians as are worth seeing into the good Towns, and grudge the People that public Diversion. Well-governed Corporations take care to assemble their Citizens, not only to the solemn Duties of Devotion, but also to Sports and Spectacles. They find Society and Friendship augmented by it; and besides, can there possibly be allowed a more orderly and regular Diversion than what is performed in the Sight of every one, and very often in the Presence of the Supreme Magistrate himself? And I, for my part, should think it reasonable, that the Prince should sometimes gratify his People at his own Expense; and that in great and populous Cities there might be Theatres erected for such Entertainments, if but to divert them from worse and more private Actions. But, to return to my Subject, there is nothing like alluring the Appetite and Affection, otherwise you make nothing but so many Asses loaden with Books, and by virtue of the Lash, give them their Pocket full of Learning to keep; whereas, to do well, you should not only lodge it with them, but make them to espouse it.   

CHAP. XXVI. That it is Folly to measure Truth and Error by our own Capacity.  
'TIS not perhaps without reason, that we attribute Facility of Belief, and Easiness of Persuasion, to Simplicity and Ignorance; and I have heard the Belief compared to the Impression of a Seal stamped upon the Soul, which by how much softer and of less resistance it is, is the more easy to be imposed upon. Vt necesse est lancem in libra ponderibus impositis de primis sic animum perspicuis cedere; As the Scale of the Balance must give way to the Weight that presses it down, so the Mind must of necessity yield to Demonstration: and by how much the Soul is more empty and without Counterpoise, with so much greater Facility it dips under the weight of the first Persuasion. And this is the reason that Children, the common People, womans, and sick Folks, are most apt to be led by the Ears. But then on the other side, 'tis a very great Presumption, to slight and condemn all things for false that do not appear to us likely to be true; which is the ordinary Vice of such as fancy themselves wiser than their Neighbours. I was myself once one of those; and if I heard talk of dead Folks walking, of Prophecies, Enchantments, Witchcrafts, or any other Story I had no mind to believe, 

Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas,  
Nocturnos lemures, portentaque Thessala;   

Dreams, Magic Terrors, Wonders, Sorceries,  
Hobgoblins, or Thessalian Prodigies.   I presently pitied the poor People that were abused by these Follies; whereas I now find, that I myself was to be pitied as much at least as they; not that Experience has taught me any thing to convince my former Opinion, though my Curiosity has endeavoured that way; but Reason has instructed me, that thus resolutely to condemn any thing for false and impossible, is arrogantly and impiously to circumscribe and limit the Will of God, and the Power of Nature, within the Bounds of my own Capacity, than which no Folly can be greater. If we give the Names of Monster and Miracle to every thing our Reason cannot comprehend, how many are continually presented before our Eyes? Let us but consider through what Clouds, and as it were groping in the Dark, our Teachers lead us to the Knowledge of most of the things we apply our Studies to, and we shall find that it is rather Custom than Knowledge that takes away the Wonder, and renders them easy and familiar to us. 

— Jam nemo cessus, saturusque videndi, 
Lucret. l. 2.   
Suspicere in Coeli dignatur lucida Templa.   

Already glutted with the Sight, now none  
Heaven's lucid Temples deigns to look upon.   And that if those things were now newly presented to us, we should think them as strange and incredible, if not more than any others. 

— Si nunc primum mortalibus adsint 
Id. ibid.   
Ex improviso, seu sint objecta repentè,  
Nil magis his rebus poterat mirabile dici,  
Aut minus ante quod auderent fore credere gentes.   

Where things are suddenly, and by surprise  
Just now objected new to mortal Eyes,  
At nothing could they be astonished more,  
Nor less than what they so admired before.    
He that had never seen a River, imagined the first he met with to be the Sea, and the greatest things that have fallen within our Knowledge, we conclude the Extremes that Nature makes of the kind. 

Scilicet & fluvius qui non est maximus, 
Id. ibid.  ei est  
Qui non ante aliquem majorem videt, & ingens;  
Arbour, homoque videtur, & omnia de genere omni  
Maxim quae vidit quisque, haec ingentia fingit.   

A little River unto him does seem,  
That bigger never saw, a mighty Stream:  
A Tree, a Man, any thing seems to his view  
O'th' kind the greatest, that ne'er greater knew.   Consuetudine Oculorum, 
Cicero de Nat. Deo. lib. 2.  assuescunt Animi, neque admirantur, neque requirunt rationes earum rerum, quas semper vident. Things grow familiar to men's Minds by being often seen; so that they neither admire, nor are inquisitive into things they daily see. The Novelty, rather than the greatness of things, tempts us to inquire into their Causes. But we are to judge with more reverence, and with greater Acknowledgement of our own Ignorance and Infirmity of this infinite Power of Nature. How many unlikely things are there testified by People of very good Repute, which if we cannot persuade ourselves absolutely to believe, we ought at least to leave them in Suspense; for to conclude them impossible, is by a temerarious Presumption to pretend to know the utmost Bounds of Possibility. Did we rightly understand the difference betwixt impossible, betwixt extraordinary, and what is contrary to the common Opinion of Men, in believing rashly, and on the other side, in being not too incredulous, we should then observe the Rule of Ne quid nimis, enjoined by Chilo. When we find in Froissard, that the Count de Foix knew in Bearn the defeat of John King of Castille at Juberoth the next day after, and the means by which he tells us he came to do so, we may be allowed to be a little merry at it, as also at what our Annals report, that Pope Honorius, the same day that King Philip Augustus died at Mant— performed his public Obsequies at Rome, and commanded the like throughout all Italy; the Testimony of these Authors not being perhaps of Authority enough to restrain us. But what if Plutarch, besides several Examples that he produces out of Antiquity, tells us, he is assured by certain Knowledge, that in the time of Domitian, the News of the Battle lost by Antonius in Germany, was published at Rome, many day's Journey from thence, and dispersed throughout the whole World, the same Day it was fought: and if Caesar was of Opinion, that it has often happened, that the report has preceded the accident; shall we not say, that these simple People have suffered themselves to be deceived with the Vulgar, for not having been so clear sighted as we? Is there any thing more delicate, more clear, more sprightly, than Pliny's Judgement, when he is pleased to set it to work? Any thing more remote from vanity? Setting aside his Learning, of which I make less account, in which of these do any of us excel him? And yet there is scarce a Puisne Sophister that does not convince him of untruth, and that pretends not to instruct him in the Progress of the Works of Nature: When we read in Bouchet the Miracles of St. hilary's Relics: away with it, his Authority is not sufficient to bear us the Liberty of contradicting him: but generally to condemn all such like Stories, seems to me an impudence of the worst Character. The great St. Augustine, professes himself to have seen a blind Child recover sight upon the Relic of St. Gervase, and St. Protasius at Milan, a Woman at Carthage cured of a Cancer, by the sign of the Cross made upon her by a Woman newly baptised. Hesperius, a familiar Friend of his, to have driven away the Spirits that haunted his House, with a little Earth of the Sepulchre of our Lord: which Earth being also transported thence into the Church, a Paralytic to have there been suddenly cured by it. A Woman in Procession, having touched St. Stephen's Shrine with a Nosegay, and after rubbing her Eyes with it, to have recovered her Sight lost many years before; with several other Miracles, of which he professes himself to have been an Eye Witness. Of what shall we accuse him and the two holy Bishops, Aurelius and Maximinus, both which he attests to the Truth of these things? Shall it be of Ignorance, Simplicity, and Facility; or of Malice, and Imposture? Is any Man now living so impudent, as to think himself comparable to them, either in Virtue, Piety, Learning, 
Cicero 2. de Diu. l. 2.  Judgement, or any kind of Perfection? Qui ut Rationem nullam afferent, ipsa Authoritate me frangerent. Who though they should give me no Reason for what they affirm, would yet convince me with their Authority. 'Tis a presumption of great Danger and Consequence, besides the absurd Temerity it draws after it, to contemn what we do not comprehend. For after that, according to your fine Understanding, you have established the Limits of Truth and Error, and that afterwards there appears a Necessity upon you of believing stranger things than those you have contradicted, you are already obliged to quit your hold, and to acquiesce. That which seems to me so much to disorder our Consciences in the Commotions we are now in concerning Religion, is the Catholics dispensing so much with their Belief; they fancy they appear Moderate, and Wise, when they grant to the Huguenosts some of the Articles in Question; but besides that, they do not discern what advantage it is to those with whom we contend, to begin to give Ground, and to retire, and how much this animates our Enemy to follow his blow: these Articles which they insist upon as things indifferent, are sometimes of very great importance, and dangerous Consequence. We are either wholly and absolutely to submit ourselves to the Authority of our Ecclesiastical Polity, or totally throw off all Obedience to it. 'Tis not for us to determine what and how much Obedience we owe to it, and this I can say, as having myself made trial of it, that having formerly taken the liberty of my own Swing and Fancy, and omitted or neglected certain Rules of the Discipline of our Church, which seemed to me vain, and of no Foundation: coming afterwards to discourse it with learned Men, I have found those very things to be built upon very good and solid Ground, and strong Foundation; and that nothing but Brutality and Ignorance makes us receive them with less Reverence than the rest: Why do we not consider what Contradictions we find in our own Judgements, how many things were yesterday Articles of our Faith, that to day appear no other than Fables? Glory and Curiosity are the Scourges of the Soul; of which the last prompts us to thrust our Noses into every thing, and the other forbids us to leave any thing doubtful and undecided.   

CHAP. XXVII. Of Friendship.  
HAving considered the Fancy of a Painter, I have that serves me, I had a mind to imitate his way: For he chooses the fairest place, and middle of any Wall, or panel a Wainscot, wherein to draw a Picture which he finishes with his utmost care, and art, and the vacuity about it he fills with Grotesque; which are odd Fantastic Figures without any grace but what they derive from their variety, and the extravagancy of their shapes. And in truth, what are these things I scribble, other than Grotesques, and Monstrous Bodies, made of dissenting parts, without any certain Figure, or any other than accidental Order, Coherence, or Proportion?  

Desinit in piscem Mulier formosa superne. 
Hor. de Art. Poetica.    

That a fair Woman's Face above doth show;  
But in a Fish's Tail doth end below.   
In this second part I go hand in hand with my Painter; but fall very short of him in the first, and the better, my power of handling not being such, that I dare to offer at a brave piece, finely painted, and set off according to Art. I have therefore thought fit to borrow one of Estienno de Boitic, and such a one as shall honour and adorn all the rest of my work; namely, a discourse that he called, The voluntary Servitude: a piece writ in his younger years, by way of Essay, in honour of liberty against Tyrants, and which has since run through the hands of several Men of great Learning and Judgement, not without singular, and merited commendation; for it is finely writ, and as full, as any thing can possibly be: Though a Man may confidently say it is far short of what he was able to do; and if in that more mature Age, wherein I had the happiness to know him, he had taken a design like this of mine, to commit his thoughts to writing, we should have seen a great many rare things, and such as would have gone very near to have rivalled the best Writings of Antiquity: For in Natural parts especially, I know no Man comparable to him. But he has left nothing behind him, save this Treatise only, (and that too by chance, for I believe he never saw it after it first went out of his hands,) and some Observations upon that Edict of January, made Famous by our Civil Wars, which also shall elsewhere peradventure find a place. These were all I could recover of his Remains, I to whom, with so affectionate a remembrance, upon his Deathbed, he by his last Will bequeathed his Library, and Papers, the little Book of his Works only excepted, which I committed to the Press. And this particular obligation I have to this Treatise of his, that it was the occasion of my first coming acquainted with him; for it was showed to me long before I had the good fortune to know him; and gave me the first knowledge of his name; proving so the first cause and foundation of a Friendship, which we afterward improved, and maintained, so long as God was pleased to continue us together, so perfect, inviolate, and entire, that certainly the like is hardly to be found in Story, and amongst the Men of this Age, there is no sign nor trace of any such thing in use; so much concurrence is required to the building of such a one, that 'tis much, if Fortune bring it but once to pass in three Ages. There is nothing to which Nature seems so much to have inclined us, as to Society; and Aristotle says, that the good Legislators had more respect to Friendship, than to Justice. Now the most supreme point of its perfection in this: 
Perfect Friendship, what.  for generally all those, that Pleasure, Profit, Public or Private Interest, Create and Nourish, are so much the less Generous, and so much the less Friendships, by how much they mix another cause, and design, than simple, and pure Friendship itself. Neither do the four Ancient Kind's, Natural, Sociable, Hospitable and Venerean, either separately, or jointly, make up a true and perfect Friendship. That of Children to Parents is rather respect: Friendship being nourished by Communication, which cannot by reason of the great disparity, be betwixt them: but would rather perhaps violate the duties of Nature; for neither are all the secret thoughts of Father's fit to be communicated to Children, lest it beget an indecent familiarity betwixt them; neither can the advices, and reproofs, which is one of the principal offices of Friendship, be properly performed by the Son to the Father. There are some Countries, where 'tis the Custom for Children to kill their Fathers; and others, where the Fathers killed their Children, to avoid being sometimes an impediment to one another in their designs; and moreover the expectation of the one does naturally depend upon the ruin of the other. There have been great Philosophers who have made nothing of this tie of Nature, as Aristippus for one, who being pressed home about the affection he owed to his Children, as being come out of him, presently fell to spit, saying, that that also came out of him, and that he did also breed Worms, and Lice; and that other, that Plutarch endeavoured to reconcile to his Brother, I make never the more account of him, said he, for coming out of the same hole. This name of Brother does indeed carry with it an amicable and affectionate sound, and for that reason, he and I called Brothers: but the complication of Interest, the division of Estates, and that the raising of the one, should be the undoing of the other, does strangely unnerve and slacken this fraternal tie: And Brothers pursuing their Fortune and Advancement by the same Path, 'tis hardly possible, but they must of necessity often justle, and hinder one another. Besides, why is it necessary that the correspondence of Manners, Parts and Inclinations, which beget these true and perfect Friendships, should always meet and concur in these relations. The Father and the Son may be of quite contrary humours, and Brothers without any manner of Sympathy in their Natures. He is my Son, he is my Brother, or he and I are Cousin-germen; but he is Passionate, ill Natured, or a Fool. And moreoever, by how much these are Friendships, that the Law, and Natural Obligation, impose upon us; so much less is there of our own choice, and voluntary freedom. Whereas that voluntary liberty of ours, has nothing but that of Affection and Friendship, properly its own. Not that I have not in my own person experimented all can possibly be expected of that kind, having had the best, and most indulgent Father, even to an extreme old Age, that ever was, and who was himself descended from a Family, for many Generations Famous, and Exemplary for Brotherly Concord: 


Hor. l. 2. Ode. 2. — Et ipse  
Notus in fratres animi Paterni.   

And he himself noted the rest above,  
Towards his Brothers for paternal Love.    
We are not here to bring the Love we bear to Women, though it be an Act of our own Choice, into comparison; nor rank it with the others; the Fire of which I confess, 


Catul●us.  (Neque enim est Dea nescia nostri  
Quae dulcem curis miscet amaritiem.)   

(Nor is my Goddess ignorant what I am,  
Who pleasing Sorrows mixes with my Flame.)   is more active, more eager, and more sharp: but withal, 'tis more precipitous, fickle, moving and inconstant: a Fever subject to Intermission, and Paroxisms, that has seized but on one part, one corner of the Building; whereas in Friendship, 'tis a general and universal Fire, but temperate, and equal, a constant established heat, all easy, and smooth, without poynancy or roughness. Moreover, in Love, 'tis no other than Frantic Desire, to that which flies from us.  

Come segue la lepre ill cacciatore 
Ariosto. Canto. 10.   
Al freddo, all caldo, alla montagna, all litto:  
Ne piu l'estima poi, che presa vede,  
Et sol dietro a chi fugge affretta il pied.   

Like Hunters, that the flying Hare pursue  
O'er Hill, and Dale, through Heat, & Morning Dew,  
Which being ta'en, the Quarry they despise,  
Being only pleased in following that which flies.   
So soon as ever they enter into terms of Friendship, that is to say, into a concurrence of Desires, it vanishes, and is gone, fruition destroys it, as having only a fleshly end, and such a one as is subject to Satiety. Friendship on the contrary, is enjoyed proportionably, as it is desired, and only grows up, is nourished and improves by enjoyment, as being of itself Spiritual, and the Soul growing still more perfect by practice. Under, and subsellious to this perfect Friendship, I cannot deny, but that the other vain Affections, have in my younger Years found some place in my thoughts, that I may say nothing of him, who himself confesses but too much in his Verses: So that I had both these Passions, but always so, that I could myself well enough distinguish them, and never in any degree of comparison with one another. The first maintaining its flight in so lofty and so brave a place, as with disdain to look down, and see the other flying at a far humbler pitch below. As concerning Marriage, besides, that it is a Covenant, the entrance into which, is only free, but the continuance in it, forced and compelled, having another dependence, than that of our own freewill, and a Bargain commonly contracted to other ends, there almost always happens a Thousand Intricacies in it, to unravel, enough to break the Thread, and to divert the Current of a Lively Affection: whereas Friendship has no manner of Business or Traffic with any but itself. Moreover, to say truth, the ordinary Talon of Women, is not such, as is sufficient to maintain the Conference and Communication required, to the support of this Conjugal Tie; nor do they appear to be endued with Constancy of Mind, to endure the pinch of so hard and durable a Knot. And doubtless, if without this, there could be such a free and voluntary familiarity contracted, where not only the Souls might have this entire fruition, but the Bodies also might share in the Alliance, and a Man be engaged throughout, the Friendship would certainly be more full and perfect; but it is without example, that this Sex could ever arrive at such perfection, and by the Ancient Schools, is wholly rejected; as also that other Grecian Licence is justly abhorred by our manners; which also, for having, according to their practice, a so necessary disparity of Age, and difference of Offices betwixt the Lovers, hold no more proportion with the perfect Union and Harmony that we here require, than the other. 
Cicero Tus. lib. 4.  Quis est enim iste amor amicitiae? cur neque deformem adolescentem quisquam amat, neque formosam senem? For what is that Love of Friendship? why does no one Love a deformed Youth, or a comely Old Man? Neither will that very Picture that the Academy presents of it, as I conceive, contradict me, when I say, that the first fury inspired by the Son of Venus into the heart of the Lover, upon the sight of the Flower, and prime of a springing and blossoming Youth, to whom they allow all the Insolences, and Passionate Attempts, that an immoderate Ardour can produce, was simply founded upon an external Beauty, the false image of Corporal Generation; for upon the Soul it could not ground this Love, the sight of which, as yet lay concealed, was but now springing, and not of maturity to Blossom. Which fury, if it seized upon a mean Courage, the means by which he preferred his suit, were rich Presents, favour in advancement to Dignities, and such Trumpery, which they by no means approve: If on a more generous Soul, the pursuit was suitably generous, by Philosophical Instructions, Precepts to revere Religion, to obey the Laws, to die for the good of his Country; by examples of Valour, Prudence and Justice, the Lover studying to render himself acceptable by the Grace and Beauty of his Soul, that of his Body being long since faded and decayed, hoping by this mutual Society to establish a more firm and lasting Contract. When this Courtship came to effect in due season, (for that which they do not require in the Lover, namely, Leisure and Discretion in his pursuit, they strictly require in the person Loved; forasmuch as he is to judge of an internal Beauty, of difficult Knowledge, and obscure Discovery,) then there sprung in the Person Loved the desire of a spiritual Conception, by the mediation of a spiritual Beauty. This was the Principal, the Corporeal, Accidental, and Second Causes, are all the wrong side of the Lover. For this reason they prefer the Person Beloved, maintaining, that the Gods in like manner prefer him too, and very much blame the Poet Aeschilus, for having, in the Loves of Achilles and Patroclus, given the Lover's part to Achilles, who was in the first flower and pubescency of his Youth, and the handsomest of all the Greeks. After this general Familiarity, and mutual Community of Thoughts, is once settled, supposing the sovereign and most worthy Part to preside and govern, and to perform its proper Offices, they say, that from thence great Utility derived, both to private and public Concerns. That the force and power of Countries received their beginning from thence, and that it was the chiefest security of Liberty and Justice. Of which, the Salutiferous Loves of Harmonious and Aristogiton, is a good instance; and therefore it is, that they called it Sacred and Divine, and do conceive, that nothing but the Violence of Tyrants, and the Baseness of the common People, is mimical to it: finally, all that can be said in favour of the Academy, is, that it was a Love which ended in Friendship; which also well enough agrees with the Stoical definition of Love. 
Cicero. Ibid.  Amorem conatum esse amicitiae faciendae ex pulchritudinis specie. That Love is a desire of contracting Friendship by the Beauty of the Object. I return to my own more just and true description. 
Cicero. Amic.  Omnino amicitiae, corroboratis jam confirmatis ingeniis, & aetatibus, judicandae sunt. Those are only to be reputed Friendships, that are fortified and confirmed by Judgement, and length of time. For the rest, which we commonly call Friends, and Friendships, are nothing but Acquaintance, and Familiarities, either occasionally contracted, or upon some design, by means of which, there happens some little intercourse betwixt our Souls: but in the Friendship I speak of, they mix and work themselves into one piece, with so universal a mixture, that there is no more sign of the Seam by which they were first conjoined. If a Man should importune me to give a reason why I Loved him; I find it could no otherwise be expressed, than by making answer, because it was he, because it was I. There is, beyond I am able to say, I know not what inexplicable and fatal power that brought on this Union. We sought one another long before we met, and by the Characters we heard of one another, which wrought more upon our Affections, than in reason, mere reports should do, I think by some secret appointment of Heaven, we embraed in our Names; and at our first meeting, which was accidentally at a great City entertainment, we found ourselves so mutually taken with one another, so acquainted, and so endeared betwixt ourselves, that from thenceforward nothing was so near to us as one another. He writ an excellent Latin satire, which I since Printed, wherein he excuses the precipitation of our intelligence, so suddenly came to perfection, saying, that being to have so short continuance, as being begun so late, (for we were both full grown Men, and he some Years the older,) there was no time to lose; nor was tied to conform itself to the example of those slow and regular Friendships, that require so many precautions of a long praeliminary Conversation. This has no other Idea, than that of its self: this is no one particular consideration, nor two, nor three, nor four, nor a thousand; 'tis I know not what quintessence of all this mixture, which, seizing my whole Will, carried it to plunge and lose itself in his, and that having seized his whole Will; brought it back with equal concurrence and appetite, to plunge and lose itself in mine. I may truly say, lose, reserving nothing to ourselves, that was either his or mine. When Laelius, in the presence of the Roman Consuls, (who after they had sentenced Tiberius Gracchus, prosecuted all those who had had any familiarity with him also,) came to ask Cajus Blosius, (who was his chiefest Friend and Confident,) how much he would have done for him? And that he made Answer, All things. How! All things! said Laelius, And what if he had commanded you to Fire our Temples? He would never have commanded me that, replied Blosius. But what if he had? said Laelius; Why, if he had, I would have Obeyed him, said the other. If he was so perfect a Friend to Gracchus, as the Histories report him to have been, there was yet no necessity of offending the Consuls by such a bold confession, though he might still have retained the assurance he had of Gracchus his disposition. However, those who accuse this Answer as Seditious, do not well understand the Mystery; nor presuppose, as it was true, that he had Gracchus his Will in his sleeve, both by the power of a Friend, and the perfect knowledge he had of the Man. They were more Friends, than Citizens, and more Friends to one another, than either Friends or Enemies to their Country, or than Friends to Ambition and Innovation. Having absolutely given up themselves to one another, either held absolutely the reins of the others Inclination, which also they governed by Virtue, and guided by the conduct of Reason, (which also without these, it had not been possible to do,) and therefore Blosius his Answer was such as it ought to be. If either of their Actions flew out of the handle, they were neither (according to my measure of Friendship,) Friends to one another; nor to themselves. As to the rest, this Answer carries no worse sound, than mine would do to one that should ask me, If your Will should command you to Kill your Daughter, would you do it? And that I should make Answer, that I would, for this expresses no consent to such an Act, forasmuch as I do not in the least suspect my own Will, and as little that of such a Friend. 'Tis not in the power of all the Eloquence in the World, to dispossess me of the certainty I have of the intentions and resolutions of mine; nay, no one Action of his, what face soever it might bear, could be presented to me, of which I could not presently, and at first sight, find out the moving cause: Our Souls have drawn so unanimously together, and we have with so mutual a confidence laid open the very bottom of our hearts to one another's view, that I not only know his as well as my own; but should certainly in any concern of mine, have trusted my interest much more willingly with him, than with myself. Let no one therefore rank other common Friendships with such a one as this. I have had as much experience of these, as another, and of the most perfect of their kind: but I do not advise, that any should confound the Rules of the one, and the other, for they would then find themselves much deceived. In those other ordinary Friendships, you are to walk with a Bridle in your hand, with Prudence and Circumspection, for in them the Knot is not so sure, that a Man may not half suspect it will slip: Love him (said Chilo) so, as if you were one Day to Hate him; and Hate him so, as you were one Day to Love him. A Precept, that though abominable in the Sovereign, and perfect Friendship which I intent, is nevertheless very sound, as to the practice of the ordinary ones, now in fashion, and to which the saying that Aristotle had so frequent in his Mouth, O my Friends, there is no Friend; may very fitly be applied. And this glorious Commerce of good Offices, Presents and Benefits, by which other Friendships are supported and maintained, do not deserve so much as to be mentioned here; and is, by this concurrence and consent of Wills, totally taken away, and rendered of no use; as the kindness I have for myself, receives no increase, for any thing I relieve myself withal in time of need, (whatever the Stoics say,) and as I do not find myself obliged to myself, for any Service I do myself: So the Union of such Friends, being really perfect, deprives them of all acknowledgement of such Duties, and makes them loath and banish from their Conversation, these words of Division, and Distinction, Benefit, Obligation, Acknowledgement, Entreaty, Thanks, and the like: All Things, Wills, Thoughts, Opinions, Goods, Wives, Children, Honours and Lives, being in effect, common betwixt them, and that absolute concurrence of Affections being no other than one Soul in two Bodies, (according to that very proper definition of Aristotle) they can neither lend, nor give any thing to one another. This is the reason why the Lawgivers, to honour Marriage with some imaginary resemblance of this divine Alliance, interdict all gifts betwixt Man and Wife; inferring by that, that all should belong to each of them, and that they have nothing to divide; or to give. If, in the Friendship of which I speak, one could give to the other, the receiver of the Benefit would be the Man that obliged his Friend; for each of them contending, and above all things, studying how to be useful to one another, he that administers the occasion, is the liberal Man, in giving his Friend the satisfaction of doing that towards him, which above all things he does most desire. When the Philosopher Diogenes wanted Money, he used to say, That he redemanded it of his Friends, not that he demanded it; and to let you see the effectual practice of this, I will here produce an ancient and a rare example; Eudamidas a Corinthian, had two Friends, Charixenus a Sycionian, and Aretheus a Corinthian: this Man coming to Die, being Poor, and his two Friends Rich, he made his Will after this manner; I Bequeath to Aretheus the Maintenance of my Mother, to support and provide for her in her Old Age; and to Charixenus I Bequeath the care of Marrying my Daughter, and to give her as good a Portion as he is able; and in case that one of these chance to Die, I hereby substitute the Survivor in his place. They who first saw this Will, made themselves very merry at the Contents: but the Executors being made acquainted with it, accepted the Legacies with very great content; and one of them, Charixenus, Dying within five Days after, and Aretheus by that means having the charge of both devolved solely to him: He nourished that Old Woman with very great care and tenderness, and of five Talents he had in Estate, he gave two and a half in Marriage with an only Daughter he had of his own, and two and a half in Marriage with the Daughter of Eudamidas, and in one and the same Day solemnised both their Nuptials. This Example is very full, if one thing were not to be objected, namely, the multitude of Friends: For the perfect Friendship I speak of, is indivisible, every one gives himself so entirely to his Friend, that he has nothing left to distribute to others: But on the contrary, is sorry, that he is not double, treble, or quadruple, and that he has not many Souls, and many Wills, to confer them all upon this one subject. Common Friendships will admit of division, one may Love the Beauty of this, the good Humour of that Person, the Liberty of a third, the Paternal Affection of a fourth, the Fraternal Love of a fifth, and so of the rest: But this Friendship that possesses the whole Soul, and there rules and sways with an absolute Sovereignty, can possibly admit of no Rival. If two at the same time should call to you for succour, to which of them would you run? Should they require of you contrary Offices; how could you serve them both? Should one commit a thing to your Secretary, that it were of importance to the other to know, how would you disengage yourself? A singular and particular Friendship disunites and dissolves all other Obligations whatsoever. The secret I have sworn not to reveal to any other, I may without Perjury communicate to him who is not another, but myself. 'Tis Miracle enough certainly, for a Man to double himself, and those that talk of tripling, talk they know not of what. Nothing is extreme, that has its like; and who shall presuppose, that of two, I Love one as much as the other, that they Love one another too, and Love me as much as I Love them, does multiply in Friendship, the most single and united of all things, and wherein moreover, one alone, is the hardest thing in the World to find. The remaining part of this story suits very well with what I said before; for Eudamidas as a Bounty and Favour, Bequeathes to his Friends a Legacy of employing themselves in his necessity; he leaves them Heirs to this liberality of his, which consists, in giving them the opportunity of conferring a benefit upon him; and doubtless, the force of Friendship is more eminently apparent in this act of his, than in that of Aretheus. In short, these are effects not to be imagined nor comprehended by such as have not experience of them, and which makes me infinitely honour and admire the Answer of that young Soldier to Cyrus, by whom being asked how much he would take for a Horse, with which he had won the prize of a Course, and whether he would exchange him for a Kingdom? No, truly Sir, said he, but I would give him with all my heart, to find a true Friend, could I find out any Man worthy of that relation. He did not say ill in saying, could I find: for though a Man may almost every where meet with Men sufficiently qualified for a superficial acquaintance; yet in this, where a Man is to deal from the very bottom of his heart, without any manner of reservation, it will be requisite, that all the Wards and Springs be neatly and truly wrought, and perfectly sure. In Leagues that hold but by one end, we are only to provide against the imperfections, that particularly concern that end. It can be of no importance to me, of what Religion my Physician or my Lawyer is, provided the one be a good Lawyer, and the other a good Physician; this consideration hath nothing in common with the Offices of Friendship; and I am of the same indifferency in the domestic acquaintance, my Servants must necessarily contract with me; I never inquire, when I am to take a Footman, if he be Chaste, but if he be Diligent; and am not solicitous, if my Chairman be given to Gaming, as if he be Strong & Able; or if my Cook be a Swearer, or a good Cook. I do not however take upon me to direct what other Men should do in the Government of their Families, there are enough that meddle enough with that: but only give an account of my method in my own.  


Terence Hea. Act. 1. Sce. 1.  Mihi sic usus est: tibi, ut opus est facto, face.   

This has my practice been; but thou mayst do,  
What thy Affairs, or Fancy, prompt thee to.   
In Table talk, I prefer the Pleasant and Witty, before the Learned and the Grave: In Bed, Beauty before Modesty, and in common Discourse, Eloquence, whether or no there be sincerity in that case. And, as he that was found astride upon a Hobby-horse, playing with his Children, entreated the person who had surprised him in that posture, to say nothing of it, till himself came to be a Father, supposing, that the fondness that would then possess his own Soul, would render him a more equal Judge of such an Action: So I also could wish to speak to such as have had experience of what I say: though, knowing how remote a thing such a Friendship is from the common practice, and how rarely such are to be found, I despair of meeting with any one qualified to such a degree of competency. For even these Discourses left us by Antiquity upon this subject, seem to me flat and low, in comparison of the sense I have of it, and in this particular, the effects surpass the very precepts of Philosophy.  

Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico.. 
Hor. l. 1. Sat. 5.    

I nothing to myself can recommend,  
Like the delight of a facetious Friend.   
The Ancient Menander declared him to be happy, that had had the good Fortune to meet with but the shadow of a Friend; and doubtless he had good reason to say so, especially, if he spoke by experience: For in good earnest, if I compare all the rest of my Life, though thanks be to God, I have always past my time pleasantly enough, and at my ease, and the loss of such a Friend excepted, free from any grievous Affliction, and in great tranquillity of Mind, having been contented with my natural and original Conveniences, without being solicitous after others; if I should compare it all, I say, with the Four Years I had the happiness to enjoy the sweet Society of this excellent Man; 'tis nothing but smoke, but an obscure and tedious Night, from the Day that I lost him. 

— Quem semper acerbum, 
Virg. Aene. z. 5.   
Semper honoratum (sic Dii voluistis) habebo.   

Which ever till I step into my Grave,  
I shall in sad, but kind remembrance have.   I have only led a Sorrowful and Languishing Life; and the very Pleasures that present themselves to me, instead of administering any thing of Consolation, double my Affliction for his loss. We were halves throughout, and to that degree, that methinks, by out-living him, I defraud him of his part. 


Terence Heau. Act. 1. Sce. 1.  Nec jas esse ulla me voluptate hic frui  
Decrevi, tantisper dum ille abest meus particeps.   

And this against myself I have decreed,  
Nothing of Pleasure shall my Fancy feed.  
Since he is gone, for ever gone alas!  
Who in all Joys my dear Copartner was.   I was so accustomed to be always his second in all places, and in all interests too, that methinks, I am no more than half a Man, and have but half a Being. 


Horat. l. 12. Ode 4.  Illam meae si partem animae tulit  
Maturior vis, quid moror altera,  
Nec charius eque nec superstes  
Integer? Ille dies utramque  
Duxit ruinam.   

Since that half of my Soul was snatched away  
By riper Age, why does the other stay;  
Which now's not dear; nor truly does survive?  
That Day our double Ruin did contrive.   There is no Action or Imagination of mine, wherein I do not want him; I know that his Advice and Assistance would be useful to me: for as he surpassed me by infinite degrees in Virtue, and all other Accomplishments; so he also did in all Offices of Friendship.  

Quis desiderio sit pudor, 
Horat. l. 1▪ Ode. 1.  aut modus  
Tam chari capitis.   

A moderate Mourning were a scandal here,  
Where I Lament a Friend so truly dear.   

O misero, frater adempte mihi! 
Catullus.   
Omnia tecum una perierunt gaudia nostra,  
Que tuus in vita, dulcis alebat amor,  
Tu mea, tu moriens fregisti commoda frater,  
Tecum una tota est, nostra sepulta anima.  
Cujus ego interitu tota de ment fugavi  
Hec studia, atque omnes delitias animi.  
Alloquar? audiero nunquam tua verba loquentem?  
Nunquam ego te vita, frater amabilior,  
Aspiciam posthac? at certe semper emabo.   

Ah! Brother, what a Life did I commence,  
From that sad Day that thou wert ravished hence!  
Those Joys are gone, that whilst thou tarried'st here,  
By thy sweet Conversation nourished were.  
With thee, when dying, my good Fortune fled,  
And in thy Grave my Soul was buried.  
The Muses at thy Funerals I forsook,  
And of thy Joy my leave for ever took.  
Dearer than Life, am I so wretched then,  
Never to see, nor speak to thee again,  
Nor hear thy Voice, now frozen up by Death?  
Yet will I Love thee to my latest Breath.   
But let us hear a little a Boy of Sixteen speak.  
In this place I did once intend to have inserted those Mesmoirs upon that famous Edict of January: But being I since find that they are already Printed, and with a malicious design, by some who make it their business to molest, and endeavour to subvert the state of our Government, not caring whether they mend and reform it, 
Apology for Estienne de Boetie.  or no; and that they have confounded this Writing of his with others of their own Leaven, I desisted from that purpose: But that the Memory of the Father may not be interested, nor suffer with such, as could not come near hand to be acquainted with his Principles; I here give them truly to understand, that it was writ by him in his very green Years, and that by way of Exercise only, as a common Theme that has been tumbled and tossed by a Thousand Writers. I make no question, but that he himself believed what he writ, being so Conscientious that way, that he would not so much as lie in jest: and do moreover know, that could it have been in his own Choice, he had rather have been Born at Venice, than at Soarlac, and he had reason: But he had another Maxim Sovereignly imprinted in his Soul, very Religiously to Obey, and submit to the Laws under which he was Born. There never was a better Citizen, more affectionate to his Country; nor a greater Enemy to all the Commotions and Innovations of his time: So that he would doubtless much rather have employed his Talon to the extinguishing of those Civil Flames, than have added any Fuel to them: For he had a Mind fashioned to the Model of better Ages. But in exchange of this Serious Piece, I will present you with another of a more Gay and Frolic Air, from the same Hand, and Writ at the same Age.   

CHAP. XXVIII. Nine and Twenty Sonnets of Estienne de la Boetie, to Madam de Grammont Countess of Guisson.  
MAdam, I offer to your Ladyship nothing of mine, either because it is already yours, or because I find nothing in my Writings worthy of you: But I have a great desire that these Verses, into what part of the World soever they may travel, may carry your Name in the Front, for the Honour will accrue to them, by having the great Corisanda de Andonis for their safe Conduct: I conceive this present, Madam, so much the more proper for you, both by reason there are few Ladies in France who are so good Judges of Poetry, and make so good use of it as you do; as also, that there is none who can give it that Spirit and Life your Ladyship does, by that incomparable Voice Nature has added to your other perfections; you will find, Madam, that these Verses deserve your esteem, and will, I dare say, concur with me in this, that Gascony never yielded more Invention, finer Expression, or that more evidence themselves to flow from a Master's hand. And be not Jealous, that you have but the remainder of what I Published some Years since, under the Name of Monsieur de Foix, your brave Kinsman; for certainly these have something in them more sprightly, and luxuriant, as being Writ in a greener Youth, and inflamed with the Noble Ardour that I will tell your Ladyship in your Ear. The other were Writ since, when he was a Suitor in the honour of his Wife, already relishing of I know not what Matrimonial Coldness: And for my part, I am of the same opinion with those, who hold, that Poesy appears no where so Gay, as in a wanton and irregular Subject.  
These Nine and Twenty Sonnets that were inserted here, are since Printed with his other Works.   

CHAP. XXIX. Of Moderation.  
AS if we had an infectious Touch, we by our manner of handling corrupt things, that in themselves are laudable and good: We may grasp Virtue so hard, till it become Vicious, if we embrace it too straight, and with too violent a desire. Those who say, there is never any excess in Virtue, for as much as it is no Virtue, when it once becomes excess, only play upon words.  


Horace l. 1. Epist. 6.  Insani sapiens nomen ferat, aequus iniqui,  
Vltra quam satis est, virtutem si petat ipsam.   

The Wise for Mad, the Just for Unjust pass,  
When more than needs, even Virtue they embrace.   
This is a subtle consideration in Philosophy. A Man may both be too much in Love with Virtue, and be excessive in a just Action. Holy Writ agrees with this, Be not Wiser than you should; but be soberly Wise. 
* 'Tis like he means Henry the 3 d of France.  I have known a great Man prejudice the Opinion Men had of his Devotion, by pretending to be devout beyond all Examples of others of his condition. I Love temperate and moderate Natures. An immoderate Zeal, even to that which is good, though it does not offend, does astonish me; and puts me to study what Name to give it. Neither the Mother of Pausanias, who was the first instructor of her Son's process; and threw the first stone towards his Death: Nor Posthumus the Dictator, who put his Son to Death, whom the Ardour of Youth had fortunately pushed upon the Enemy a little more advanced than the rest of his Squadron, do appear to me so just as strange; and I should neither advise, nor like to follow so Savage a Virtue, and that costs so dear. The Archer that shoots over, misses as well as he that falls short, and 'tis equally troublesome to my sight, to look up at a great Light, and to look down into a dark Abyss. Callicles in Plato, says, That the extremity of Philosophy is hurtful, and advises not to dive into it beyond the limits of Profit: that taken moderately, it is pleasant and useful: but that in the end, it renders a Man Brutish and Vicious: A Contemner of Religion, and the common Laws, an Enemy to Civil Conversation, and all Humane Pleasures, incapable of all Public Administration, unfit either to assist others, or to relieve himself, and a fit Object for all sorts of Injuries and Affronts, without remedy, or satisfaction: He says true; for in its Excess, it enslaves our Natural Freedom, and by an impertinent subtlety, leads us out of the fair and beaten way that Nature has plained out for us. The Love we bear to our Wives is very lawful, and yet Theology thinks fit to curb and restrain it. As I remember, I have read in one place of St. Thomas of Aquin, where he condemns Marriages within any of the forbidden degrees, for this reason, amongst others, that there is some danger, lest the Friendship a Man bears to such a Woman, should be immoderate; for if the Conjugal Affection be full and perfect betwixt them, as it ought to be, and that it be over and above surcharged with that of Kindred too, there is no doubt, but such an addition will carry the Husband beyond the bounds of reason. Those Sciences that regulate the manners of Men, Divinity and Philosophy, will have a saying to every thing. There is no Action so private that can escape their Inspection and Jurisdiction, but they are best taught, who are best able to censure and curb their own Liberty. 'Tis the Women that expose their Nudities over freely upon the account of Pleasure, though in the Necessities of Physic and Chirurgery, they are more shy, and more reserved. I will therefore in their behalf teach the Husbands, that is, such as are too extravagant and sensual in the exercise of the Matrimonial Duty, this Lesson, that the very Pleasures they enjoy in the Society of their Wives, are Reproachable, if immoderate, and that a Licentious and Riotous abuse of them, are Faults▪ as reprovable here, as illegitimate and adulterous Practices. Those Immodest and Debauched Tricks and Postures, that the first Ardour suggests to us in this Affair, are not only indecently, but inconveniently practised upon our Wives. Let them at least learn Impudence from another hand; they are always ready enough for our Business, and I for my part always went the plain way to work. Marriage is a Solemn and Religious Tie, and therefore the pleasure we extract from thence, should be a sober and serious delight, and mixed with a certain kind of Gravity; it should be a kind of discreet and conscientious pleasure. And being that the chief end of it is Generation, some make a Question, whether when Men are out of hopes of that fruit, as when they are superannuated, or already with Child, it be lawful to lie with our Wives. 'Tis Homicide, according to Plato, and certain Nations, (the Mahometan, amongst others,) Abominate all Conjunction with Women with Child, and others also, with those who are Unclean. Zenobia would never admit her Husband for more than one Encounter, after which, she left him to his own swing for the whole time of her Conception, and not, till after that, would any more receive him: A brave Example of Conjugal Continency. It was doubtless from some Lascivious Poet, and one that himself was in great distress for a little of this sport, that Plato borrowed this Story; that Jupiter was one Day so hot upon his Wife, that not having so much patience, as till she could get to the Couch, he threw her upon the Floor, where the vehemency of pleasure made him forget the great and important Resolutions he had but newly taken with the rest of the Gods, in his Celestial Council; and to brag, that he had had as good a Bout, as when he got her Maidenhead unknown to their Parents. The Kings of Persia were wont to invite their Wives to the beginning of their Festivals; but when the Wine began to work in good earnest, and that they were to give the Reins to pleasure, they sent them back to their private Apartments, that they might not participate of their immoderate Lust, sending for other Women in their stead, with whom they were not obliged to so great a decorum of respect. All Pleasures, and all sorts of Gratifications, are not properly and fitly conferred upon all sorts of Persons. Epaminondas had Committed a young Man for certain Debauches; for whom Pelopidas mediated, that at his request he might be set at liberty, which notwithstanding the great intelligence betwixt them, Epaminondas resolutely denied to him, but granted it at the first word to a Wench of his, that made the same intercession; saying, that it was a Gratification fit for such a one as she, but not for a Captain. Sophocles being joint Praetor with Pericles, seeing accidentally a fine Boy pass by: O what a delicate Boy is that, said he; I, that were a Prize, answered Pericles, for any other, than a Praetor, who ought not only to have his Hands, but his Eyes Chaste too. Elius Verus the Emperor, answered his Wife, who Reproached him with his Love to other Women, that he did it upon a Conscientious account, forasmuch as Marriage was a Name of Honour, and Dignity, not of Wanton and Lascivious Desire. And our Ecclesiastical History preserves the Memory of that Woman in great Veneration, who parted from her Husband, because she would not comply with his indecent and inordinate Desire. In fine, there is no so just and lawful pleasure, wherein the Intemperance and Excess, is not to be Condemned. But, to speak the truth, is not Man a most miserable Creature the while? It is scarce, by his Natural Condition, in his power to taste one Pleasure pure and entire; and yet must he be contriving Doctrines and Precepts, to Curtall that little he has; he is not yet Wretched enough, unless by Art and Study, he Augment his own Misery.  

Fortunae miseras auximus Arte vias. 
Propert. lib. 3. Ele. 6.    

We with Misfortune against ourselves take part,  
And our own Miseries increase by Art.   
Humane Wisdom makes as ill use of her Talon, when she exercises it in rescinding from the number and sweetness of those Pleasures, that are naturally our due, as she employs it favourably, and well, in Artificially disguising and tricking out the ills of Life, to alleviate the Sense of them. Had I ruled the Roast, I should have taken another, and more natural course, which, to say the truth, is both Commodious and Sacred, and should peradventure have been able to have limited it too. Notwithstanding that both our Spiritual and Corporal Physicians, as by compact betwixt themselves, can find no other way to cure, nor other Remedy for the Infirmities of the Body, and the Soul, than what is oft times worse than the Disease, by tormenting us more, and by adding to our Misery and Pain. To this end, Watchings, Fast, Hair-shirts, remote and solitary Banishments, perpetual Imprisonments, Whips, and other Afflictions, have been introduced amongst Men: But so, that they should carry a sting with them, and be real Afflictions indeed; and not fall out so, as it once did to one Gallio, who having been sent an Exile into the Isle of Lesbos, news was not long after brought to Rome, that he there Lived as Merry, as the Day was long; and that what had been enjoined him for a Penance, turned to his greatest Pleasure and Satisfaction: Whereupon the Senate thought fit to recall him home to his Wife and Family, and confine him to his own House, to accommodate their Punishment to his feeling and apprehension. For to him whom Fasting would make more Healthful and more Sprightly, and to him to whose palate Fish were more acceptable than Flesh, it would be no proper, nor sanative Receipt; no more than in the other sort of Physic, where the Drugs have no effect upon him who swallows them with Appetite and Pleasure. The Bitterness of the Potion, and the Abhorrency of the Patient, are necessary Circumstances to the Operation. The Nature that would eat Rhubarb like Buttered Turnips, would frustrate the use and virtue of it; it must be something to trouble and disturb the Stomach, that must Purge and Cure it; and here the common Rule, that things are Cured by their contraries, fails; for in this, one ill is Cured by another. This Belief a little resembles that other so Ancient one, of thinking to Gratify the Gods and Nature, by Self-murder; an Opinion universally once received in all Religions, and to this Day retained in some. For in these later times wherein our Fathers Lived, Amurath at the taking of Isthmus, Immolated Six Hundred Young Greeks to his Father's Soul, in the nature of a propitiatory Sacrifice for the Sins of the Deceased. And in those new Countries discovered in this Age of ours, which are pure, and Virgins yet, in comparison of ours, this practice is in some measure every where received. All their Idols reek with Humane Blood, not without various Examples of Horrid Cruelty. Some they Burn alive, and half Broiled, take them off the Coals to tear out their Hearts and Entrails; others, even Women they flay alive, and with their Bloody Skins Cloth and Disguise others. Neither are we without great Examples of Constancy and Resolution, in this Affair: The poor Souls that are to be Sacrificed, Old Men, Women and Children, going some Days before to beg Alms for the Offering of their Sacrifice, and so Singing and Dancing, present themselves to the Slaughter. The Ambassadors of the King of Mexico, setting out to Fernando Cortes the Power and Greatness of their Master, after having told him, that he had Thirty Vassals, of which, each was able to Raise an Hundred Thousand Fight Men, and that he kept his Court in the fairest and best Fortified City under the Sun, added at last, that he was obliged Yearly to offer to the Gods Fifty Thousand Men. And it is confidently affirmed, that he maintained a continual War, with some Potent Neighbouring Nations, not only to keep the Young Men in Exercise, but principally, to have wherewithal to furnish his Sacrifices with his Prisoners of War. At a certain Town in another place, for the welcome of the said Cortes, they Sacrificed Fifty Men at once. I will tell you this one Tale more, and I have done; Some of these People being Beaten by him, sent to Compliment him, and to Treat with him of a Peace, whose Messengers carried him Three sorts of Presents, which they presented in these terms: Behold, Lord, here are Five Slaves, if thou be'st a Furious God that feedeth upon Flesh and Blood, eat these, and we will bring thee more; if thou be'st an Affable God, behold here Incense and Feathers; but if thou be'st a Man, take these Fowls and these Fruits, that we have brought thee.   

CHAP. XXX. Of Cannibals.  
WHen Pyrrhus King of Epire Invaded Italy, having viewed and and considered the Order of the Army, the Romans sent out to meet him; I know not, said he, what kind of Barbarians (for so the Greeks called all other Nations) these may be; but the Discipline of this Army that I see, has nothing of Barbarity in it. As much said the Greeks of that Flaminius brought into their Country; and Philip beholding from an Eminence, the Order and the distribution of the Roman Camp, led into his Kingdom by Publius Sulpicius Galba, spoke to the same effect. By which it appears, how Cautious Men ought to be, of taking things upon trust from Vulgar Opinion, and that we are to judge by the Eye of Reason, and not from common report. I have long had a Man in my House, that Lived Ten or Twelve Years in the new World, discovered in these latter Days, and in that part of it where Villegaignon Landed, which he called Antarctic France. This Discovery of so vast a Country seems to be of very great Consideration; and we are not sure, that hereafter there may not be another, so many wiser Men than we have been deceived in this. I am afraid our Eyes are bigger than our Bellies, and that we have more Curiosity than Capacity: for we grasp at all, but catch nothing but Air. Plato brings in Solon, telling a Story, that he had heard from the Priests of Sais in Egypt, that of Old, and before the Deluge, there was a great Island called Atlantis, situate directly at the Mouth of the Straight of Gibraltar, which contained more Ground, than both Africa and Asia put together; and that the Kings of that Country, who not only possessed that Isle, but extended their Dominion so far into the Continent, that they had a Country as large as afric to Egypt, and as long as Europe to Tuscany, attempted to Encroach even upon Asia, and to subjugate all the Nations that Borders upon the Mediterranean Sea, as far as the Gulf of Mare Maggiore; and to that effect, overran all Spain, the Gauls, and Italy, so far, as to penetrate into Greece, where the Athenians stopped the Torrent of their Arms: but sometimes after, both the Athenians, they, and their Island, were swallowed by the Flood.  
It is very likely, that this Violent Irruption and Inundation of Water, made a wonderful Change, and strange Alteration, in the Habitations of the Earth: As 'tis said, that the Sea then divided Sicily from Italy: 

Haec loc avi quondam, & vasta connulsa ruina, 
Virg. Eneids l. 3.   
Dissiluisse ferunt: cum protinus utraque tellus,  
una foret.   

'Tis said, those places by th' o'rebearing Flood,  
Too Great and Violent to be withstood,  
Split, and was thus from one another rent,  
Which were before one Solid Continent.   Cyprus from Suria, the Isle of Negrepont, from the firm Land of Beacia, and elsewhere, united Lands that were separate before, by filling up the Channel betwixt them, with Sand and Mud; 


Horac. in Art. Poet.  Sterilisque diu palus, aptaque remis  
Vicinas urbes alit, & grave sentit aratrum.   

Where sterile remigable Marshes now  
Feed Neighbouring Cities, and admit the Plough.   But there is no great appearance, that this Isle was this new World so lately discovered: for that almost touched upon Spain, and it were an incredible effect of an Inundation, to have tumbled so prodigious a Mass, above Twelve Hundred Leagues: Besides, that our Modern Navigators have already almost discovered it to be no Island, but firm Land, and Continent, with the East-Indies on the one side, and with the Lands under the two Poles on two others; or if it be separate from them, 'tis by so narrow a Straight, and so inconsiderable a Channel, that it never the more deserves the Name of an Island for that. It should seem, that in this great Body, there are two sorts of Motions, the one Natural, and the other Febrifick, as there are in ours. When I consider the Impression that our River of Dordoigne has made in my time, on the right Bank of its descent, and that in Twenty Years it has gained so much, and undermined the Foundations of so many Houses, I perceive it to be an extraordinary Agitation: for had it always followed this Course, or were hereafter to do it, the prospect of the World would be totally changed. But Rivers alter their Course, sometimes beating against the one side, and sometimes the other, and sometimes quietly keeping the Channel. I do not speak of sudden Inundations, the causes of which every Body understands. In Medoc, by the Seashore, the Sieur d' Arsac my Brother, sees an Estate, he had there, Buried under the Sands which the Sea Vomits before it: where the tops of some Houses are yet to be seen, and where his Rents and Revenues are converted into pitiful Barren Pasturage. The Inhabitants of which place affirm, That of late Years the Sea has driven so vehemently upon them, that they have lost above Four Leagues of Land. These Sands are her Harbingers. And we now see great heaps of moving Sand, that march half a League before her.  
The other Testimony from Antiquity, to which some would apply this discovery of the new World, is in Aristotle; at least, if that little Book of unheard of Miracles be his. He there tells us, That certain Carthaginians, having crossed the Atlantic Sea without the Straight of Gibraltar, and Sailed a very long time, discovered at last, a great and fruitful Island, all covered over with Wood, and Watered with several broad and deep Rivers; far remote from all firm Land, and that they, and others after them, allured by the gratitude and fertility of the Soil, went thither with their Wives and Children, and began to Plant a Colony: But the Senate of Carthage visibly perceiving their People by little and little, to grow thin, Issued out an express Prohibition, That no one, upon pain of Death, should Transport themselves thither; and also drove out these new Inhabitants; fearing, 'tis said, lest in process of time, they should so multiply, as to supplant them themselves, and Ruin their State: But this Relation of Aristotle's, does no more agree with our new found Lands, than the other. This Man that I have is a plain ignorant Fellow, and therefore the more likely to tell Truth: For your better bred sort of Men, are much more Curious in their Observation, 'tis true, and discover a great deal more, but then they gloss upon it, and to give the greater weight to what they deliver, and allure your Belief, they cannot forbear a little to alter the Story; they never represent things to you simply as they are, but rather as they appeared to them, or as they would have them appear to you, and to gain the reputation of Men of Judgement, and the better to induce your Faith, are willing to help out the Business with something more than is really true, of their own Invention. Now in this Case, we should either have a Man of Irreproachable Veracity; or so Simple, that he has not wherewithal to Contrive, and to give a Colour of Truth to False Relations, and that can have no Ends in Forging an Untruth. Such a one is mine; and besides, the little suspicion the Man lies under, he has divers times showed me several Seamen, and Merchants, that at the same time went the same Voyage. I shall therefore content myself with his Information, without enquiring what the Cosmographers say to the Business. We should have Maps to trace out to us the particular places where they have been; but for having had this advantage over us, to have seen the Holy Land, they would have the privilege forsooth, to tell us Stories of all the other parts of the World besides. I would have every one Write what he knows, and as much as he knows, but no more; and that not in this only, but in all other Subjects: For such a Person may have some particular Knowledge and Experience of the nature of such a River; or such a Fountain; that as to other things, knows no more, than what every Body does, and yet to keep a clutter with this little Pittance of his, will undertake to Write the whole Body of Physics: A Vice from whence great Inconveniences derive their Original.  
Now, to return to my Subject, I find, that there is nothing Barbarous and Savage in this Nation, by any thing that I can gather, excepting, That every one gives the Title of Barbarity to every thing that is not in use in his own Country: As indeed we have no other level of Truth and Reason, than the Example and Idea of the Opinions and Customs of the place wherein we Live. There is always the true Religion, there the perfect Government, and the most exact and accomplished Usance of all things. They are Savages at the same rate, that we say Fruits are wild, which Nature produces of herself, and by her own ordinary progress; whereas in truth, we ought rather to call those wild, whose Natures we have changed by our Artifice, and diverted from the common Order. In those, the Genuine, most useful and natural Virtues and Properties, are Vigorous and Sprightly, which we have helped to Degenerate in these, by accommodating them to the pleasure of our own Corrupted Palate. And yet for all this, our Taste confesses a flavour and delicacy, excellent even to Emulation of the best of ours, in several Fruits those Countries abound with, without Art or Culture; neither is it reasonable, that Art should gain the Pre-eminence of our great and powerful Mother Nature. We have so expressed her with the additional Ornaments and Graces, we have added to the Beauty and Riches of her own Works, by our Inventions, that we have almost Smothered and Choked her; and yet in other places, where she shines in her own purity, and proper lustre, she strangely baffles and disgraces all our vain and frivolous Attempts.  

Et veniunt hedetae sponte suae melius, 
Propert. l. 1. Ele. 2.   
Surgit, & in solis formosior arbutus antris.  
Et volucres nulla dulcius arte canunt.   

The Ivy best spontaneously does thrive,  
Th'Arbutus best in shady Caves does live,  
And Birds in their wild Notes, their Throats do stretch,  
With greater Art, than Art itself can teach.   
Our utmost endeavours cannot arrive at so much as to imitate the Nest of the least of Birds, its Contexture, Quaintness and Convenience: Not so much as the Web of a Contemptible Spider. All things, says Plato, are produced either by Nature, by Fortune, or by Art; the greatest and most beautiful by the one, or the other of the former, the least and the most imperfect by the last. These Nations than seem to me to be so far Barbarous; as having received but very little form and fashion from Art and Humane Invention, and consequently, not much remote from their Original Simplicity. The Laws of Nature however govern them still, not as yet much vitiated with any mixture of ours: But in such Purity, that I am sometimes troubled we were no sooner acquainted with these People, and that they were not discovered in those better times, when there were Men much more able to judge of them, than we are. I am sorry that Lycurgus and Plato had no knowledge of them; for to my apprehension, what we now see in those Natives, does not only surpass all the Images with which the Poets have adorned the Golden Age, and all their Inventions in feigning a Happy Estate of Man; but moreover, the Fancy, and even the Wish and Desire of Philosophy itself; so Native, and so pure a Simplicity, as we by Experience see to be in them, could never enter into their Imagination, nor could they ever believe that Humane Society could have been maintained with so little Artifice; should I tell Plato, that it is a Nation wherein there is no manner of Traffic, no knowledge of Letters, no science of Numbers, no name of Magistrate, nor Politic Superiority; no use of Service, Riches or Poverty, no Contracts, no Successions, no Dividents, no Proprieties, no Employments, but those of Leisure, no respect of Kindred, but common, no Clothing, no Agriculture, no Metal, no use of Corn or Wine, and where so much as the very words that signify, Lying, Treachery, Dissimulation, Avarice, Envy, Detraction and Pardon, were never heard of: How much would he find his Imaginary Republic short of his Perfection?  

Hos Natura modos primum dedit. 
Virg. Georg. 2.    

These were the Manners first by Nature taught.   
As to the rest, they Live in a Country, beautiful and pleasant to Miracle, and so Temperate withal, as my intelligence informs me, that 'tis very rare to hear of a sick Person, and they moreover assure me, that they never saw any of the Natives, either Paralytic, Blear-eyed, Toothless, or Crooked with Age. The situation of their Country is all along by the Seashore, and enclosed on the other side towards the Land, with great and high Mountains, having about a Hundred Leagues in breadth between.. They have great store of Fish and Flesh, that have no resemblance to those of ours: which they Eat without any other Cookery, than plain Boiling, Roasting, and Broiling. The first that carried a Horse thither, though in several other Voyages he had contracted an acquaintance and familiarity with them, put them into so terrible a Fright, that they Killed him with their Arrows before they could come to discover who he was. Their Buildings are very long, and of capacity to hold Two or Three Hundred People, made of the Barks of tall Trees, reared with one end upon the ground, and leaning to, and supporting one another, at the top, like some of our Barns, of which, the Covering hangs down to the very ground, and serves for the side Walls. They have Wood so hard, that they cleave it into Swords, and make Grills of it to Broil their Meat. Their Beds are of Cotton, hung swinging in the Roof, like our Seamens Hammocks, for every one one, for the Wives lie apart from their Husbands. They rise with the Sun, and so soon as they are up, Eat for all Day, for they have no more Meals but that: They do not then Drink, (as Suidas reports of some other People of the East, that never Drinks at their Meals,) but Drink very often all Day after, and sometimes to a rousing pitch. Their Drink is made of a certain Root, and is of the Colour of our Claret; which they never Drink but Lukewarm. It will keep above two or three Days, has a quick Taste, is nothing Heady, but very comfortable to the Stomach, loosening to Strangers, and a very pleasant Beverage to such as are used to it. They make use, instead of Bread, of a certain White Matter, like Coriander Comfits; I have tasted of it, the taste is sweet, and a little flat. All the whole Day is spent in Dancing. Their Young Men go a Hunting after Wild Beasts with Bows and Arrows, and one part of their Women are employed in preparing their Drink the while, which is their chief Employment. There are some of their Old Men, who in the Morning before they fall to Eating, Preach to the whole Family, as they walk to and again from the one end of the House to the other, several times repeating the same Sentence, till they have finished their turn, (for their Houses are at least a Hundred Yards long,) Valour towards their Enemies, and Love towards their Wives, being the two heads of his Discourse, never failing in the close, to put them in mind, that they have so much the greater obligation to it, because they provide them their Drink warm, and well ordered. The fashion of their Beds, Ropes, Swords, and Wooden Bracelets, they tie about their Wrists, when they go to Fight, and great Canes, bored hollow at one end, by the Sound of which they keep the Cadance of their Dances, are to be seen in several places, and amongst others, at my House. They shave all their hairy parts, and much more neatly than we, without other Razor, than one of Wood, or of Stone. They believe the Immortality of the Soul, and that those who have Merited well of the Gods, are Lodged in that part of Heaven where the Sun rises; and the Accursed in the West. They have I know not what kind of Priests, and Prophets, that very rarely present themselves to the People, having their abode in the Mountains. At their arrival there is a great Feast, and solemn Assembly of many Villages made: that is, all the Neighbouring Families, for every House, as I have described it, makes a Village, and are about a French League distant from one another. This Prophet declaims to them in public, exhorting them to Virtue, and their Duty: But all their Ethics are terminated in these two Articles, of Resolution in War, and Affection to their Wives. This also Prophecies to them Events to come, and the Issues they are to expect from their Erterprises, prompts them to, or diverts them from War: But let him look to't; for if he fail in his Divination, and any thing happen otherwise, than he has foretold, he is cut into a thousand pieces, if he be caught, and Condemned for a false Prophet; and for that reason, if any of them finds himself mistaken, he is no more to be heard of. Divination is a gift of God, and therefore to abuse it, aught to be a Punishable Imposture. Amongst the Scythians, where their Diviners failed in the promised effect, they were laid, Bound Hand and Foot, upon Carts loaden with Furs and Bavins, and drawn with Oxen, on which they were Burnt to Death. Such as only meddle with things subject to the conduct of Humane Capacity, are excusable in doing the best they can: But those other sort of People that comes to delude us, with assurances of an extraordinary Faculty, beyond our understanding: ought they not to be Punished, when they do not make good the effect of their Promise, and for the temerity of their Imposture? They have continual War with the Nations that Live further within the main Land, beyond their Mountains, to which they go Naked, and without other Arms, than their Bows, and Wooden-Swords, fashioned at one end like the head of a Javelin. The Obstinacy of their Battles is wonderful, and never end without great effusion of Blood: For as to running away, they know not what it is. Every one for a Trophy brings home the head of an Enemy he has Killed, which he fixes over the Door of his House. After having a long time treated their Prisoners very well, and given them all the Regalia's they can think of, he to whom the Prisoner belongs, invites a great Assembly of his Kindred, and Friends, who being come, he ties a Rope to one of the Arms of the Prisoner, of which, at a distance, out of his reach, he holds the one end himself, and gives to the Friend he Loves best, the other Arm to hold after the same manner; which being done, they two in the presence of all the Assembly, dispatch him with their Swords. After that, they Roast him, Eat him amongst them, and send some Chaps to their absent Friends, which nevertheless they do not do, as some think, for Nourishment, as the Scythians anciently did, but as a representation of an extreme Revenge; as will appear by this, That having observed the Portugals, who were in League with their Enemies, to inflict another sort of Death upon any of them they took Prisoners: Which was, to set them up to the Girdle in the Earth, to shoot at the remaining part till it was stuck full of Arrows, and then to hang them: They that thought those People of the other World, (as those who had sown the knowledge of a great many Vices amongst their Neighbours, and who were much greater Masters in all sorts of Mischief than they,) did not exercise this sort of Revenge without Mystery, and that it must needs be more painful than theirs; and so began to leave their old way, and to follow this. I am not sorry that we should here take notice of the Barbarous Horror of so Cruel an Action, but that seeing so clearly into their faults, we should be so blind in our own: For I conceive, there is more Barbarity in Eating a Man Alive, than when he is Dead; in tearing a Body Limb from Limb, by Wracks and Torments, that is yet in perfect Sense, in Roasting it by degrees, causing it to be bit and worried by Dogs and Swine, (as we have not only read, but lately seen; not amongst inveterate and mortal Enemies, but Neighbours, and fellow Citizens, and which is worse, under colour of Piety and Religion,) than to Roast, and Eat him after he is Dead. Chrysippus, and Zeno, the Two Heads of the Stoical Sect, were of Opinion, That there was no hurt in making use of our Dead Carcases, in what kind soever, for our necessity, and in feeding upon them too; as our Ancestors, who being Besieged by Caesar in the City Alexia, resolved to sustain the Famine of the Siege, with the Bodies of their Old Men, Women, and other Persons, who were incapable of bearing Arms.  


Juvenal. Sat. 15.  Vascones (fama est) alimentis talibus usi,  
Produxere animas.   

'Tis said, the Gascons with such Meats as these,  
In time of Siege their Hunger did appease.   
And the Physicians make no Bones of employing it to all sorts of use, that is, either to apply it outwardly, or to give it inwardly for the health of the Patient: but there never was any Opinion so irregular, as to excuse Treachery, Disloyalty, Tyranny and Cruelty, which are our familiar Vices. We may then call these People Barbarous, in respect to the Rules of Reason: but not in respect to ourselves; who in all sorts of Barbarity exceed them. Their Wars are throughout Noble and Generous, and carry as much Excuse and fair Pretence, as their Humane Disease is capable of; having with them no other foundation, than the sole Jealousy of Virtue. Their Disputes are not for the Conquest of new Lands, those they already possess, being so fruitful by Nature, as to supply them without Labour or Concern, with all things necessary, in such abundance, that they have no need to enlarge their Borders. And they are moreover happy in this, that they only covet so much as their natural necessities require: all beyond that, is superfluous to them: Men of the same Age generally call one another Brothers, those who are younger, Sons and Daughters, and the old Men are Fathers to all. These leave to their Heirs in common this full possession of Goods, without any manner of Division, or other Title, than what Nature bestows upon her Creatures, in bringing them into the World. If their Neighbour's pass over the Mountains, and come to assault them, and obtain a Victory, all the Victor's gain by it is Glory only, and the advantage of having proved themselves the better in Valour and Virtue: for they never meddle with the Goods of the Conquered, but presently return into their own Country, where they have no want of any thing necessary; nor of this greatest of all Goods, to know happily how to enjoy their Condition, and to be Content. And these in turn do the same. They demand of their Prisoners no other Ransom, than acknowledgement that they are overcome: but there is not one found in an Age, who will not rather choose to Die, than make such a Confession, or either by Word or Look, recede from the entire Grandeur of an invincible Courage. There is not a Man amongst them, who had not rather be Killed and Eaten, than so much as to open his Mouth to entreat he may not. They use them with all Liberality and Freedom, to the end their Lives may be so much the dearer to them; but frequently entertain them withal with Menaces of their approaching Death, of the Torments they are to suffer, of the preparations are making in order to it, of the mangling their Limbs, and of the Feast is to be made, where their Carcases is to be the only Dish. All which they do, to no other end, but only to extort some gentle or submissive word from them, or to Fright them so as to make them run away; to obtain this advantage, that they were terrified, and that their Constancy was shaken; and indeed, if rightly taken, it is in this point only, that a true Victory does consist.  


Claud. in Panegir. — Victoria nulla est,  
Quam quae confessos animo quoque subjugat hosts.   

No Victory can be entire, and true;  
But what does Minds, as well as Limbs subdue,   
The Hungarians a very Warlike People, never pretended further than to reduce the Enemy to their Discretion; for having forced this Confession from them, they let them go without Injury, or Ransom, excepting, at the most, to make them engage their word, never to bear Arms against them again. We have several advantages over our Enemies that are borrowed, and not truly our own; 'tis the quality of a Porter, and no effect of Virtue, to have stronger Arms and Legs, 'tis a Dead and Corporeal quality to be Active, 'tis an Exploit of Fortune to make our Enemy stumble, or to dazzle him with the light of the Sun; 'tis a trick of Science and Art, and that may happen in a mean base Fellow, to be a good Fencer. The Estimate and Valour of a Man consist in the Heart, and in the Will, there his true Honour Lives. Valour is Stability, not of Legs, and Arms, but of the Courage, and the Soul; it does not lie in the Valour of our Horse, or our Arms: but in our own. He that falls obstinate in his Courage. Si succiderit de genu pugnat. 
Seneca Epist.  If his Legs fail him, Fight upon his Knees. He who for any danger of apparent Death, abates nothing of his assurance, who Dying, does yet dart at his Enemy a fierce and disdainful Look, is overcome not by us, but by Fortune, he is Killed, not Conquered; the most Valiant, and sometimes the most Unfortunate. There are also Defeats Triumphant to Emulation of Victories. Neither durst those Four Sister-Victories, the fairest the Sun ever beheld, of Salamis, Platea, Mycall and Sycyly, ever oppose all their united Glories, to the single Glory of the Discomfiture of King Leonidas, and his Army, at the Pass of Thermopyle. Whoever ran with a more glorious Desire, and greater Ambition, to the winning, than the Captain Ischolas to the certain loss of a Battle. Who could have found out a more subtle Invention to secure his safety, than he did to assure his Ruin: He was set to defend a certain Pass of Peloponesus against the Arcadians, which, considering the nature of the place, and the inequality of Forces, finding it utterly impossible for him to do, and concluding, that all who were presented to the Enemy, must certainly be left upon the place; and on the other side, reputing it unworthy of his own Virtue, and Magnanimity, and of the Lacedaemonian name to fail in any part of his Duty, he chose a mean betwixt these two Extremes, after this manner; The Youngest and most Active of his Men, he would preserve for the Service and Defence of their Country, and therefore sent them back; and with the rest, whose loss would be of less consideration, he resolved to make good the Pass, and with the death of them, to make the Enemy Buy their Entry as dear as possibly he could: as it also fell out, for being presently Environed on all sides by the Arcadians, after having made a great Slaughter of the Enemy, he, and his, were all cut in pieces. Is there any Trophy dedicated to the Conquerors, which is not much more due to these who were overcome. The part that true Conquering is to play, lies in the Encounter, not in the coming off; and the Honour of Virtue consists in Fight, not in Subduing.  
But to return to my Story, these Prisoners are so far from discovering the least Weakness, for all the Terrors can be represented to them, that, on the contrary, during the two or three Months, that they are kept, they always appear with a cheerful Countenance; importune their Masters to make haste to bring them to the Test, Defy, Rail at them, and Reproach them with Cowardice, and the number of Battles they have lost against those of their Country. I have a Song made by one of these Prisoners, wherein he bids them come all, and Dine upon him, and welcome, for they shall withal Eat their own Fathers, and Grandfathers, whose Flesh has served to feed and nourish him. These Muscles, says he, this Flesh, and these Veins, are your own: Poor silly Souls as you are, you little think that the substance of your Ancestors Limbs is here yet: but mind as you Eat, and you will find in it the Taste of your own Flesh: In which Song there is to be observed, an Invention that does nothing relish of the Barbarian. Those that paint these People Dying after this manner, represent the Prisoner spitting in the faces of his Executioners, and making at them a wry Mouth. And 'tis most certain, that to the very last gasp, they never cease to Brave and Defy them both in Word and Gesture. In plain truth, these Men are very Savage in comparison of us, and of necessity, they must either be absolutely so, or else we are Savager; for there is a vast difference betwixt their Manners, and ours.  
The Men there have several Wives, and so much the greater number, by how much they have the greater Reputation and Valour, and it is one very remarkable Virtue their Women have, that the same Endeavour our Wives have to hinder and divert us from the Friendship and Familiarity of other Women, those employ to promote their Husband's Desires, and to procure them many Spouses; for being above all things solicitous of their Husband's Honour, 'tis their chiefest care to seek out, and to bring in the most Companions they can, forasmuch as it is a Testimony of their Husband's Virtue. I know most of ours will cry out, that 'tis Monstrous; whereas in truth, it is not so; but a truly Matrimonical Virtue; though of the highest form. In the Bible, Sarah, Leah and Rachel, gave the most Beautiful of their Maids to their Husbands, Livia preferred the Passion of Augustus to her own interest, and the Wife of King Dejotarus of Stratonica, did not only give up a fair young Maid, that served her, to her Husband's Embraces, but moreover carefully brought up the Children he had by her, and assisted them in the Succession to their Father's Crown. And that it may not be supposed, that all this is done by a simple and servile Observation to their common Practice, or by any Authoritative Impression of their Ancient Custom, without Judgement, or Examination; and for having a Soul so stupid, that it cannot contrive what else to do, I must here give you some touches of their sufficiency, in point of Understanding; besides what I repeated to you before, which was one of their Songs of War, I have another, and a Lovesong, that begins thus; Stay Adder stay, that by thy Pattern my Sister may draw the Fashion, and work of a Noble Wreath, that I may present to my Beloved, by which means thy Beauty, and the excellent Order of thy Scales shall for ever be preferred before all other Serpents. Wherein the first Couplet, Stay Adder, etc. makes the Burden of the Song. Now I have conversed enough with Poetry to judge thus much: that not only, there is nothing of Barbarous in this Invention: But moreover, that it is perfectly Anacreontick: to which their Language is soft, of a pleasing Accent, and something bordering upon the Greek Terminations. Three of these People, not foreseeing how dear their knowledge of the Corruptions of this part of the World, would one Day cost their Happiness and Repose, and that the effect of this Commerce would be their Ruin, as I presuppose it is in a very fair way, (Miserable Men to suffer themselves to be deluded with desire of Novelty, and to have left the Serenity of their own Heaven, to come so far to gaze at ours,) came to Roan, at the time that the late King Charles the Ninth was there: where the King himself talked to them a good while, and they were made to see our Fashions, our Pomp, and the form of a great City; after which, some one asked their opinion, and would know of them, what of all the things they had seen, they found most to be admired? To which they made Answer, Three things, of which I have forgot the Third, and am troubled at it; but Two I yet remember. They said, that in the first place they thought it very strange, that so many tall Men wearing Beards, strong, and well Armed, who were about the King, ('tis like they meant the Swiss of the Guard,) should submit to Obey a Child, and that they did not choose out one amongst themselves to Command: Secondly, (they have a way of speaking in their Language, to call Men the half of one another,) that they had Observed, that there were amongst us, Men full, and crammed with all manner of Conveniences, whilst in the mean time, their halves were Begging at their Doors, Lean, and half starved with Hunger and Poverty; and thought it strange, that these Necessitous halves, were able to suffer so great an Inequality and Injustice, and that they did not take the others by the Throats, or set Fire to their Houses. I talked to one of them a great while together, but I had so ill an Interpreter, and that was so perplexed by his own Ignorance, to apprehend my meaning, that I could get nothing out of him, of any moment; Ask him, what advantage he reaped from the Superiority he had amongst his own People? (for he was a Captain, and our Mariners called him King,) he told me, to March in the Head of them to War; and demanding of him further, how many Men he had to follow him? He showed me a space of Ground, to signify, as many as could March in such a compass: which might be Four or Five Thousand Men; and putting the question to him, whether or no his Authority expired with the War? He told me this remained; that when he went to Visit the Village of his dependence, they plained him Paths through the thick of their Woods, through which he might pass at his ease. All this does not sound very ill, and the last was not much amiss; for they wear no Breeches.   

CHAP. XXXI. That a Man is soberly to judge of Divine Ordinances.  
THings unknown, are the principal and true subject of Imposture, forasmuch as in the first place, their very Strangeness lends them Credit, and moreover, by not being subjected to our ordinary Discourse, they deprive us of the means to question, and dispute them. For which reason, says Plato, it is much more easy to satisfy the hearers, when speaking of the Nature of the Gods, than of the Nature of Men, because the Ignorance of the Auditory affords a fair and large Career, and all manner of Liberty, in the handling of profane and abstruse things; and than it comes to pass, that nothing is so firmly believed, as what we least know; nor any People so confident, as those who entertain us with Fabulous Stories, such as your Alchemists, Judicial Astrologers, Fortune-tellers, and Physicians, Id genus omne; to which I could willingly, if I durst, join a sort of People, that take upon them to Interpret and Control the Designs of God himself, making no question of finding out the cause of every Accident, and to pry into the secrets of the Divine Will, there to discover the Incomprehensible Motives of his Works. And although the variety, and the continual discordance of Events, throw them from Corner to Corner, and toss them from East to West, yet do they still persist in their vain Inquisition, and with the same Pencil to Paint Black and White. In a Nation of the Indies, there is this commendable Custom, that when any thing befalls them amiss in any Rencounter or Battle, they Publicly ask Pardon of the Sun, who is their God, as having committed an unjust Action, always imputing their Good or Evil Fortune to the Divine Justice, and to that, submitting their own Judgement and Reason. 'Tis enough for a Christian to believe, that all things come from God, to receive them with acknowledgement of his divine and instructable Wisdom, and also thankfully to accept and receive them, with what Face soever, they may present themselves: But I do not approve of what I see in use, that is, to seek to continue and support our Religion by the Prosperity of our Erterprises. Our Belief has other Foundation enough, without going about to Authorise it by Events: For the People accustomed to such Arguments as these, and so proper to their own Taste, it is to be feared, lest when they fail of Success, they should also stagger in their Faith: As in the War wherein we are now Engaged, upon the account of Religion, those who had the better in the Business of Rochelabeille; making great Brags of that success, as an infallible approbation of their Cause, when they came afterwards to excuse their Misfortunes of Jarnac, and Moncontour, 'twas by saying, they were Fatherly Scourges and Corrections; if they have not a People wholly at their Mercy, they make it manifestly enough to appear, what it is to take two sorts of Grist out of the same Sack, and with the same Mouth to blow Hot and Cold. It were better to possess the Vulgar with the solid and real Foundations of Truth. 'Twas a brave Naval-Battel that was gained a few Months since, against the Turks, under the Command of Don John of Austria; but it has also pleased God at other times to let us see as great Victories at our own Expense. In fine, 'tis a hard matter to reduce Divine things to our Balance, without waste, and losing a great deal of the weight. And who would take upon him to give a reason, that Arius, and his Pope Leo, the principal Heads of the Arian Heresy, should Die at several times of so like and strange Deaths, (for being withdrawn from the Disputation, by the Griping in the Guts, they both of them suddenly gave up the Ghost upon the Stool,) and would aggravate this Divine Vengeance by the Circumstance of the place; might as well add the Death of Heliogabalus, who was also Slain in a House of Office. But what? Ireneus was involved in the same Fortune; God being pleased to show us, that the Good have something else to hope for; and the Wicked something else to fear, than the Fortunes, or Misfortunes, of this World: He manages, and applies them, according to his own secret Will and Pleasure, and deprives us of the means, foolishly to make our own profit. And those People both abuse themselves, and us, who will pretend to dive into these Mysteries by the strength of Humane Reason. They never give one hit, that they do not receive two for it; of which, St. Augustine gives a very great proof upon his Adversaries. 'Tis a Conflict, that is more decided by strength of Memory, than the force of Reason. We are to content ourselves with the Light it pleases the Sun to communicate to us, by Virtue of his Rays, and who will lift up his Eyes to take in a greater, let him not think it strange, if for the reward of his presumption, 
Sapien. Cap. 9 v. 13.  he there lose his sight. Quis hominum potest scire consilium Dei? aut quis poterit cogitare, quid vebit Dominus? Who amongst Men can know the Council of God? or who can think what the Will of the Lord is?   

CHAP. XXXII. That we are to avoid Pleasures, even at the expense of Life.  
I had long ago Observed most of the Opinions of the Ancients to concur in this, That it is happy to Die, when there is more ill than good in Living, and that to preserve Life to our own Torment and Inconvenience, is contrary to the very Rules of Nature, as these old Laws instruct us.  

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〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

Happy is Death, whenever it shall come  
To him, to whom to Live is troublesome,  
Whom Life does Persecute with restless Spite.  
May Honourably bid the World good Night.  
And infinitely better 'tis to Die,  
Than to prolong a Life of Misery.   
But to push this Contempt of Death so far, as to employ it to the removing ourselves from the danger of Coveting Honours, Riches, Dignities, and other Favours, and Goods, as we call them, of Fortune, as if Reason were not sufficient to persuade us to avoid them, without adding this new Injunction, I had never seen it either Enjoined, or Practised, till this passage of Seneca fell into my hands; who advising Lucilius, a Man of great Power and Authority about the Emperor, to alter his Voluptuous and Magnificent way of Living, and to retire himself from this Worldly Vanity and Ambition, to some Solitary, Quiet and Philosophical Life, and the other alleging some Difficulties. I am of Opinion, says he, either that thou leave that Life, or Life itself; I would indeed advise thee to the gentle way, and to untie, rather than to break, the Knot thou hast undiscreetly Knit, provided, that if it be not otherwise to be untied, then resolutely break it. There is no Man so great a Coward, that had not rather once fall, than to be always falling. I should have found this Counsel conformable enough to the Stoical Roughness: But it appears the more strange, for being borrowed from Epicurus, who writes the same thing upon the like occasion to Idomenius. And I think I have Observed something like it, but with Christian Moderation, amongst our own People. St. Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, that famous Enemy of the Arian Heresy, being in Syria, had Intelligence thither sent him, that Abra his only Daughter, whom he left at home under the Eye and Tuition of her Mother, was sought in Marriage by the greatest Noblemen of the Country, as being a Virgin Virtuously brought up, Fair, Rich, and in the Flower of her Age: whereupon he writ to her, (as it appears upon Record,) that she should remove her Affection from all these Pleasures and Advantages were proposed unto her; for he had in his Travels found out a much greater and more worthy Fortune for her, a Husband of much greater Power and Magnificence, that would present her with Robes, and Jewels of inestimable value; wherein his design was, to dispossess her of the Appetite, and use of Worldly Delights, to join her wholly to God: But the nearest and most certain way to this, being, as he conceived, the Death of his Daughter; he never ceased, by Vows, Prayers and Oraizens, to Beg of the Almighty, that he would please to call her out of this World, and to take her to himself; as accordingly it came to pass; for soon after his return, she Died, at which he expressed a singular Joy. This seems to outdo the other, forasmuch as he applies himself to this means at the first sight, which they only take subsidiarily, and besides, it was towards his only Daughter. But I will not omit the latter end of this Story, though it be from my purpose; St. Hilaries Wife having understood from him, how the Death of their Daughter was brought about, by his desires and design, and how much happier she was, to be removed out of this World, than to have stayed in it: Conceived so Lively an Apprehension of the Eternal and Heavenly Beatitude, that she Begged of her Husband, with the extremest Importunity, to do as much for her; and God, at their joint Request, shortly after calling her to him, it was a Death embraced on both sides, with singular Content.   

CHAP. XXXIII. That Fortune is oftentimes Observed to Act by the Rule of Reason.  
THe Inconstancy, and various Motions of Fortune, may reasonably make us expect, she should present us with all sorts of Faces. Can there be a more express Act of Justice, than this? The Duke of Valentenois, having resolved to Poison Adrian Cardinal of Cornetto, with whom Pope Alexander the Sixth, his Father, and himself, were to go to Supper in the Vatican: he sent before a Bottle of Poisoned Wine, and withal, strict Order to the Butler to keep it very safe. The Pope being come before his Son, and calling for Drink, the Butler supposing this Wine had not been so strictly recommended to his Care, but only upon the account of its Excellency, presented it presently to the Pope, and the Duke himself coming in presently after, and being confident they had not meddled with his Bottle, took also his Cup; so that the Father Died immediately upon the place, and the Son, after having been long tormented with Sickness, was reserved to another, and a worse Fortune: Sometimes she seems to play upon us, just in the nick of an Affair: Monsieur d' Estree at that time Guidon to Monsieur de Vendosme; and Monsieur de Liques Lieutenant to the Company of the Duke of Ascot, being both pretenders to the Sieur de Foungueselles his Sister, though of several Parties, (as it oft falls out amongst Frontier Neighbours,) the Sieur de Liques carried her, but on the same Day he was Married, and which was worse, before he went to Bed to his Wife, the Bridegroom having a mind to break a Lance in Honour of his new Bride, went out to Skirmish, near to St. Omers, where the Sieur d' Estree proving the stronger, took him Prisoner, and the more to illustrate his Victory, the Lady herself was fain 

Conjugis ante coacta novi dimittere collum, 
Gat●llus.   
Quam veniens una, atque altera rursus hyems.  
Noctibus in longis avidum faturasset amorem.   

Of her fair Arms, the Amorous Ring to break,  
Which clung so fast to her new Spouses Neck,  
ere of two Winters many a friendly Night,  
Had sated her Love's greedy Appetite.   to request him of Courtesy, to deliver up his Prisoner to her, as he accordingly did, the Gentlemen of France never denying any thing to Ladies. Does she not seem to be an Artist here? Constantine the Son of Helen, founded the Empire of Constantinople, and so many Ages after, Constantine the Son of Helen put an end to it. Sometimes she is pleased to Emulate our Miracles. We are told, that King Clovis Besieging Angoulesme, the Walls fell down of themselves by Divine Favour. And Bouchet has it from some Author, that King Robert having sat down before a City, and being stole away from the Siege, to go keep the Feast of St. Aignan at Orleans; as he was in Devotion, at a certain place of the Mass, the Walls of the beleaguered City, without any manner of Violence, fell down with a sudden Ruin. But she did quite contrary in our Milan War; for Captain Rinse laying Siege to the City Verona, and having carried a Mine under a great part of the Wall, the Mine being sprung, the Wall was lifted from its base, but dropped down again nevertheless, whole and entire, and so exactly upon its foundation, that the Besieged suffered no Inconvenience by that Attempt. Sometimes she plays the Physician, Jason Phereus' being given over by the Physicians, by reason of a desperate Imposthumation in his Breast; having a mind to rid himself of his Pain, by Death at least, in a Battle, threw himself desperately into the thickest of the Enemy, where he was so fortunately wounded quite through the Body, that the Imposthume broke, and he was perfectly cured. Did she not also excel the Painter Protogenes in his Art? Who having finished the Picture of a Dog quite tired, and out of breath, in all the other parts excellently well to his own liking, but not being able to express, as he would, the slaver and foam that should come out of his Mouth, vexed, and angry at his work, he took his Sponge, which by cleaning his Pencils, had imbibed several sorts of Colours, and threw it in a rage against the Picture, with an intent utterly to deface it; when Fortune guiding the Sponge to hit just upon the Mouth of the Dog, it there performed what all his Art was not able to do. Does she not sometimes direct our Counsels, and correct them? Isabel Queen of England, being to Sail from Zealand into her own Kingdom, with an Army, in favour of her Son, against her Husband, had been lost, had she come into the Port she intended, being there laid wait for by the Enemy; but Fortune, against her will, threw her into another Haven, where she Landed in safety. And he who throwing a Stone at a Dog, hit, and killed, his Mother in Law, had he not reason to pronounce this Verse, 

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Menander.    

— By this I see,  
Fortune does better aim than we.   Fortune has more Judgement than we. Icetes had contracted with two Soldiers to Kill Timoleon, at Adranon in Sicily. These Villains took their time to do it, when he was assisting at a Sacrifice, who thrusting into the Crowd, as they were making signs to one another, that now was a fit time to do their business, in steps a third, who with a Sword takes one of them full drive over the Pate, lays him dead upon the place, and away he runs. Which the other seeing, and concluding himself discovered, and lost, he runs to the Altar, and begs for Mercy, promising to discover the whole truth, which as he was doing, and laying open the whole Conspiracy, behold the third Man, who being Apprehended, was, as a Murderer thrust and haled by the People through the Press, towards Timoleon, and other the most Eminent Persons of the Assembly, before whom being brought, he Cries out for Pardon, pleading, that he had justly Slain his Father's Murderer; which he also proving upon the place, by sufficient Witnesses, which his good Fortune very opportunely supplied him withal, that his Father was really Killed in the City of the leontin's, by that very Man on whom he had taken his Revenge; he was presently Awarded Ten Attic 
* The old Attic Mine was 75 Drach.  Mine, for having had the good Fortune, by designing to revenge the the Death of his Father, to preserve the Life of the common Father of Sicily. This Fortune in her Conduct, surpasses all the Rules of Humane Prudence. But, to conclude, is there not a direct Application, of her Favour, Bounty and Piety, manifestly discovered in this Action? Ignatius the Father, and Ignatius the Son, being proscribed by the Triumvirate of Rome, resolved upon this generous Act of mutual kindness, to fall by the hands of one another, and by that means, to frustrate and defeat the Cruelty of the Tyrants; and accordingly, with their Swords drawn, ran full drive upon one another, where Fortune so guided the points, that they made two equally Mortal Wounds, affording withal so much Honour to so brave a Friendship, as to leave them just strength enough to draw out their Bloody Swords, that they might have liberty to embrace one another in this Dying Condition, with so close and hearty an Embrace, that the Executioners cut off both their Heads at once, leaving the Bodies still fast linked together in this Noble Knot, and their Wounds joined Mouth to Mouth, affectionately sucking in the last Blood, and remainder of the Lives of one another.   

CHAP. XXXIV. Of one Defect in one Government.  
MY Father, who for a Man, that had no other advantages, than Experience only, and his own Natural Parts, was nevertheless of a very clear Judgement, has formerly told me, 
The project of an Office of Enquiry.  that he once had thoughts of endeavouring to introduce this Practice; that there might be in every City a certain place assigned, to which, such as stood in need of any thing might repair, and have their Business entered by an Officer appointed for that purpose; as for Example, I inquire for a Chapman to Buy my Pearls: I inquire for one that has Pearls to Sell: Such a one wants Company to go to Paris, such a one inquires for a Servant of such a Quality, such a one for a Master, such a one inquires for such an Artificer, some for one thing, some for another, every one according to what he wants. And doubtless, these mutual Advertisements would be of no contemptible Advantage to the Public Correspondency and Intelligence: For there are evermore Conditions that hunt after one another, and for want of knowing one another's occasion, leave Men in very great necessity. I have heard, to the great shame of the Age we Live in, that in our very sight, two most excellent Men for Learning, Died so Poor, that they had scarce Bread to put in their Mouths: Lilius Gregorius Giraldus in Italy, and Sebastianus Castalio in Germany: And do believe, there are a Thousand Men would have invited them into their Families, with very advantageous Conditions, or have Relieved them where they were, had they known their wants. The World is not so generally▪ Corrupted, but that I know a Man, that would heartily wish the Estate his Ancestors have left him, might be employed, so long as it shall please Fortune to give him leave to enjoy it, to secure rare and remarkable Persons of any kind, whom Misfortune sometimes persecutes to the last degree, from the danger of Necessity; and at least, place them in such a condition, that they must be very hard to please, if they were not contented. My Father in his Oeconomical Government, had this Order, (which I know how to commend, but by no means imitate,) which was, that besides the Day-book, or Memorial of the Household Affairs, where the small Accounts, Payments and Disbursements, which do not require a Secretary's hand, were entered, and which a Bailiff always had in Custody; he Ordered him whom he kept to write for him, to keep a Paper Journal, and in it to set down all the remarkable Occurrences, and Day by Day the Memoires of the Histories of his House: very pleasant to look over, when time begins to wear things out of Memory, and very useful sometimes to put us out of doubt, when such a thing was begun, when ended, what courses were debated on, what concluded; our Voyages, Absences, Marriages, and Deaths, the reception of good, or ill news; the change of principal Servants, and the like. An Ancient Custom, which I think it would not be amiss for every one to revive in his own House; and I find I did very foolishly in neglecting the same.   

CHAP. XXXV. Of the Custom of Wearing clothes.  
WHatever I shall say upon this Subject, I am of necessity to invade some of the bounds of Custom, so careful has she been to shut up all the Avenues. I was disputing with myself in this shivering season, whether the fashion of going Naked in those Nations lately discovered, is imposed upon them, by the hot temperature of the Air, as we say of the Moors and Indians, or whether it be the Original fashion of Mankind; Men of Understanding, forasmuch as all things under the Sun, as the Holy Writ declares, are subject to the same Laws, were wont in such Considerations as these, where we are to distinguish the Natural Laws from those have been imposed by Man's Invention, to have recourse to the general Polity of the World, where there can be nothing Counterfeited. Now all other Creatures being sufficiently furnished with all things necessary for the support of their being, it is not to be imagined, that we only should be brought into the World in a defective and indigent Condition, and in such an estate as cannot subsist without Foreign assistance; and therefore it is, that I believe, that as Plants, Trees, and Animals, and all things that have Life, are seen to be by Nature sufficiently Clothed and Covered, to defend them from the Injuries of Wether, 


Lucret. l. 4.  Propteriaque fere res omnes, aut Corio sunt,  
Aut seta, aut conchis, aut callo, aut cortice tectae.   

Moreover all things, or with Skin, or Hair,  
Or Shell, or Bark, or Callus Clothed are.   so were we: But as those who by Artificial Light put out that of the Day, so we by borrowed Forms and Fashions have destroyed our own. And 'tis plain enough to be seen, that 'tis Custom only which renders that impossible, that otherwise is nothing so; for of those Nations who have no manner of knowledge of Clothing, some are situated under the same Temperature that we are, and some in much Colder Climates. And besides, our most tender Parts are always exposed to the Air, as the Eyes, Mouth, Nose, and Ears; and our Country Labourers, like our Ancestors in former times, go with their Breasts and Bellies open. Had we been Born with a necessity upon us of wearing Petticoats and Breeches, there is no doubt, but Nature would have Fortified those Parts she intended should be exposed to the Fury of the Seasons, with a thicker Skin, as she has done the Finger ends, and the Soles of the Feet. And why should this seem hard to believe? I Observe much greater distance betwixt my Habit, and that of one of our Country Boars, than betwixt his, and a Man that has no other Covering but his Skin. How many Men, especially in Turkey, go Naked upon the account of Devotion? I know not who would ask a Beggar, whom he should see in his Shirt in the depth of Winter, as Brisk and Frolic, as he who goes Muffled up to the Ears in Furs, how he is able to endure to go so? Why Sir, he might Answer, you go with your Face bare, and I am all Face. The Italians have a Story of the Duke of Florence his Fool, whom his Master Ask, How being so thin Clad, he was able to support the Cold, when he himself, warm wrapped as he was, was hardly able to do it? Why, replied the Fool, use my Receipt, to put on all your clothes you have at once, and you'll feel no more Cold, than I. King Mossinissa to an extreme Old Age, could never be prevailed upon to go with his Head covered, how Cold, Stormy, or Rainy, soever the Wether might be: Which also is reported of the Emperor Severus. Herodotus tells us, that in the Battles fought betwixt the Egyptians, and the Persians, it was Observed both by himself, and others, that of those who were left Dead upon the place, the Heads of the Egyptians were found to be without comparison harder, than those of the Persians, by reason that the last had gone with their Heads always covered from their Infancy, first, with Biggins, and then with Turbans, and the others always shaved, and open. And King Agesilaus observed to a decrepit Age, to wear always the same clothes in Winter, that he did in Summer. Caesar, says Suetonius, Marched always at the Head of his Army, for the most part, on foot, with his Head bare, whether it was Rain, or Sunshine, and as much is said of Hannibal. 


Silius I●. li. 6.1. — Tum vertice nudo,  
Excipere insanos imbres, Coelique ruinam.   

Bare Head to March in Snow, and when it pours  
Whole Cataracts of cold unwholesome showers.   A Venetian who has long Lived in Pegu, and is lately returned from thence, writes, that the Men and Women of that Kingdom, though they cover all their other Parts, go always Barefoot, and Ride so too. And Plato does very earnestly advise, for the health of the whole Body, to give the Head and the Feet no other Clothing, than what Nature has bestowed. He whom the Polacks have Elected for their King, since ours came thence, who is indeed one of the greatest Princes of this Age, never wears any Gloves, and for Winter, or whatever Wether can come, never wears other Cap abroad, than the same he wears at home. Whereas I cannot endure to go unbuttoned, or untied; our Neighbouring Labourers would think themselves in Chains, if they were so braced. Varro is of Opinion, that when it was Ordained, we should be bare in the presence of the Gods, and before the Magistrate, it was rather so Ordered, upon the score of health, and to Inure us to the Injuries of Wether, than upon the account of Reverence. And since we are now talking of Cold, and Frenchmen used to wear variety of Colours, (not I myself, for I seldom wear other than Black, or White, in Imitation of my Father,) let us add another Story of Captain Martin du Bellay, who affirms, that in the Voyage of Luxenbourg, he saw so great Frosts, that the Ammunition Wine was cut with Hatchets, and Wedges; was delivered out to the Soldiers by Weight, and that they carried it away in Baskets: and Ovid, 


Ovid. Trist. l. 3. El. 12.  Nudaque consistunt formam servantia teste,  
Vina, nec hausta meri, sed data frusta bibunt.   

— The Wine  
Stripped of its Cask, retains the Figure still,  
Nor do they Draughts, but Crusts of Bacchus' swill.   At the Mouth of the Lake Maeotis, the Frosts are so very sharp, that in the very same place where Methridates his Lieutenant had Fought the Enemy dryfoot, and given them a notable Defeat, the Summer following he obtained over them a Famous Naval Victory. The Romans Fought at a very great disadvantage, in the Engagement they had with the Carthaginians near Placentia, by reason, that they went on to Charge with their Blood fixed, and their Limbs Numbed with Cold, whereas Hannibal had caused great Fires to be dispersed quite through his Camp to warm his Soldiers, and Oil to be distributed amongst them; to the end, that Anointing themselves, they might render their Nerves more Supple and Active, and fortify the Pores against the violence of the Air, and Freezing Wind, that Raged in that Season. The Retreat the Greeks made from Babylon into their own Country, is Famous, for the Difficulties and Calamities they had to overcome. Of which, this was one, that being Encountered in the Mountains of Armenia with a horrible Storm of Snow, they lost all knowledge of the Country, and of the ways, and being driven up, were a Day and a Night without Eating or Drinking, most of their cattle Died, many of themselves Starved Dead, several struck Blind with the driving, and the glittering of the Snow, many of them Maimed in their Fingers and Toes, and many Stiff and Motionless with the extremity of the Cold, who had yet their Understanding entire. Alexander saw a Nation, where they Bury their Fruit-Trees in Winter, to defend them from being destroyed by the Frost, and we also may see the same. But concerning clothes, the King of Mexico changed four times a Day his Apparel, and never put them on more, employing those he left off, in his continual Liberalities and Rewards, as also, neither Pot, Dish, nor other Utensil of his Kitchen, or Table, was ever served in Twice.   

GHAP. XXXVI. Of Cato the Younger.  
I am not guilty of the Common Error, of judging another by myself. I easily believe, that in another's Humour, that is contrary to my own; and though I find myself engaged to one certain Form, I do not obliged others to it, as many do; but believe and apprehend a Thousand ways of Living, and contrary to most Men, more easily admit of Difference than Uniformity amongst us. I as frankly, as any one would have me, discharge a Man from my Humours and Principles, and consider him according to his own particular Model. Though I am not Continent myself, I nevertheless sincerely Love, and approve the Continency of the Capuchins, and other Religious Orders, and highly commend their way of Living. I insinuate myself by imagination into their Place and Love, and Honour them the more, for being other than I am. I very much desire, that we may be Censured every Man by himself, and would not be drawn into the consequence of common Examples. My Weakness does nothing alter the Esteem I ought to have of the force and vigour of those who deserve it. Sunt qui nihil suadent, quam quid se imitari posse confidunt. 
Cicero de Or. ad.  There are who persuade nothing but what they believe they can imitate themselves. Crawling upon the Slime of the Earth, I do not for all that cease to Observe up in the Clouds the inimitable height of some Heroic Souls: 'tis a great deal for me to have my Judgement regular and right, if the effects cannot be so, and to maintain this Sovereign part at least free from Corruption: 'tis something to have my Will right and good, where my Legs fail me. This Age wherein we Live, in our part of the World at least, is grown so stupid, that not only Exercise, but the very Imagination of Virtue is defective, and seems to be no other but College-Fashion. 

— Virtutem verba putant, 
Horace Ep. 6. l. 1.  ut  
Lucum ligna:   

Words finely couched, these Men for Virtue take;  
As if each Wood a Sacred Grove could make.   Quam vereri deberent, 
Cicero Tus. 1.  etiam si precipere non possent. Which they ought to Reverence, though they cannot Comprehend. 'Tis a Gugaw to hang in a Cabinet, or at the end of the Tongue, as on the tip of the Ear, for Ornament only. There is no more Virtuous Actions extant, and those Actions that carry a show of Virtue, have yet nothing of its Essence; by reason, that Profit, Glory, Fear and Custom, and other such like foreign Causes, put us in the way to produce them. Our Justice also, Valour, and good Offices, may then be called so too, in respect to others, and according to the face they appear with to the Public; but in the doer it can by no means be Virtue, because there is another end proposed, another moving cause. Now Virtue owns nothing to be hers, but what is done by herself, and for herself alone. In that great Battle of Potidaea, that the Greeks under the Command of Pausanias obtained against Mardonius, and the Persians, the conquerors, according to their Custom, coming to divide amongst them the Glory of the Exploit, they attributed to the Spartan Nation the Pre-eminence of Valour in this Engagement. The Spartans', great Judges of Virtue, when they came to determine, to what particular Man of their Nation the Honour was due, of having the best Behaved himself upon this occasion, found, that Aristodemus had of all others hazarded his Person with the greatest Bravery: but did not however allow him any Prize, or Reward; by reason that his Virtue had been incited by a desire, to clear his Reputation from the Reproach of his Miscarriage at the Business of Thermypole, and with a desire to Die Bravely, to wipe off that former Blemish. Our Judgements are yet sick, and Obey the Humour of our depraved Manners. I Observe most of the Wits of these Times pretend to Ingenuity, by endeavouring to blemish and to darken the Glory of the Bravest and most Generous Actions of former Ages, putting one Vile Interpretation or another upon them, and forging and supposing vain Causes and Motives for those Noble things they did. A mighty subtlety indeed! Give me the greatest and most unblemished Action that ever the Day beheld, and I will contrive a Hundred plausible Drifts and Ends to obscure it: God knows, who ever will stretch them out to the full, what diversity of Images our Internal Wills do suffer under; they do not so Maliciously play the Censurers, as they do it Ignorantly and Rudely in all their Detractions. The same pains and licence that others take to Blemish and Bespatter these illustrious Names, I would willingly undergo to lend them a shoulder to raise them higher. These rare Images, and that are culled out by the consent of the wisest Men of all Ages, for the World's Example, I should endeavour to Honour anew, as far as my Invention would permit, in all the Circumstances of favourable Interpretation. And we are to believe, that the force of our Invention is infinitely short of their Merit. 'Tis the Duty of good Men to Portray Virtues as Beautiful as they can, and there would be no Indecency in the Case, should our Passion a little Transport us in favour of so Sacred a Form. What these People do to the contrary, they either do out of Malice, or by the Vice of confining their Belief to their own Capacity; or, which I am more inclined to think, for not having their sight strong, clear and elevated enough, to conceive the splendour of Virtue in her Native Purity: As Plutarch complains, that in his time some Attributed the cause of the Younger Cato's Death, to his Fear of Caesar, at which he seems very Angry, and with good reason: and by that a Man may guests how much more he would have been offended with those, who have Attributed it to Ambitious Senseless People! He would rather have performed a handsome, just and generous Action, and to have had Ignominy for his Reward, than for Glory. That Man was in truth a Pattern, that Nature chose out to show to what height Humane Virtue and Constancy could arrive: but I am not capable of handling so Noble an Argument, and shall therefore only set Five Latin Poets together by the Ears, who has done best in the praise of Cato; and inclusively for their own too. Now a Man well Read in Poetry, will think the two first, in comparison of the others, a little Flat and Languishing; the Third more Vigorous, but overthrown by the Extravagancy of his own force. He will then think, that there will be yet room for one or two Gradations of Invention to come to the Fourth; but coming to mount the pitch of that, he will lift up his Hands for admiration; the last, the first by some space, (but a space that he will swear is not to be filled up by any Humane Wit,) he will be astonished, he will not know where he is. These are Wonders. We have more Poets, than Judges and Interpreters of Poetry. It is easier to Write an indifferent Poem, than to Understand a good one. There is indeed a certain low and moderate sort of Poetry, that a Man may well enough judge by certain Rules of Art; but the true, supreme and divine Poesy, is equally above all Rules and Reason. And whoever discerns the Beauty of it, with the most assured and most steady sight, sees no more than the quick reflection of a Flash of Lightning. This is a sort of Poesy, that does not exercise, but ravishes and overwhelms our Judgement. The Fury that possesses him who is able to penetrate into it, wounds yet a Third Man by hearing him repeat it. Like a Loadstone, that not only attracts the Needle, but also infuses into it the Virtue to attract others. And it is more evidently Eminent upon our Theatres, that the Sacred Inspiration of the Muses, having first stirred up the Poet to Anger, Sorrow, Hatred, and out of himself, to whatever they will, does moreover by the Poet possess the Actor, and by the Actor consecutively all the Spectators. So much do our Passions hang and depend upon one another. Poetry has ever had that power over me from a Child, to Transpierce and Transport me: But this quick resentment that is Natural to me, has been variously handled by variety of Forms, not so much higher and lower, (for they were ever the highest of every kind,) as differing in Colour. First, a Gay and Sprightly Fluency, afterwards a Lofty and Penetrating Subtlety; and lastly, a Mature and Constant Force. Their Names will better express them; Ovid, Lucan, Virgil. But our Poets are beginning their Career. 


Mart▪ lib. 6. Epig. 32.  Sat Cato dum vivit sane vel Caesare Major.   

— Let Cato's Fame,  
Whilst he shall Live, Eclipse great Caesar's Name.  
Says one.  
— Et invictum devicta Morte Catonem. 
Manil.    

— And Cato fell,  
Death being overcome, invincible.   Says the Second. And the Third speaking of the Civil Wars betwixt Caesar and Pompey, 

Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed Victa Catoni. 
Lucan. l. 1.    

— Heaven approves,  
The Conquering Cause, the Conquered Cato loves.  
And the Fourth upon the Praises of Caesar,   

Et Cuncta terrarum subjacta, 
Hor. Car. lib. 2. Od. 1.   
Praetor atrocem animum Catonis.   

And Conquered all where ere his Eagle flew,  
But Cato's Mind, that nothing could subdue.   And the Master of the Choir, after having set forth all the great Names of the greatest Romans, ends thus, — His dantem jura Catonem. 
Aeneid. l. 8.  Great Cato giving Laws to all the rest.   

CHAP. XXXVII. That we Laugh and Cry for the same thing.  
WHen we Read in History, that Antigonus was very much displeased with his Son, for presenting him the Head of King Pyrrhus his Enemy, but newly Slain, Fight against him, and that seeing it, he wept: That Rene Duke of Lorraine also Lamented the Death of Charles Duke of Burgundy, whom he had himself Defeated, and appeared in Mourning at his Funeral: And that in the Battle of Auroy, (which Count Montfort obtained over Charles de Blois, his Concurrent for the Duchy of Britain,) the Conqueror meeting the Dead Body of his Enemy, was very much Afflicted at his Death, we must not presently Cry out, 


Petrarcha.  Et cosi aven che l' animo ciascuna,  
Sua Passion sotto el contrario manto,  
Ricopre, con la vista hor'chiara, hor bruna.   

That every one, whether of Joy or Woe,  
The Passion of their Mind can palliate so,  
As when most Grieved, to show a Countenance clear,  
And Melancholic when best pleased t' appear.   When Pompey's Head was presented to Caesar, the Histories tell us, that he turned away his Face, as from a sad and unpleasing Object. There had been so long an Intelligence and Society betwixt them, in the management of the Public Affairs, so great a Community of Fortunes, so many mutual Offices, and so near an Alliance, that this Countenance of his ought not to suffer under any Misinterpretation; or to be suspected for either False or Counterfeit, as this other seems to believe: 

Tutumque putavit 
Lucan. lib. 9   
Jam bonus esse socer, lacrymas non sonte cadentes,  
Effudit, gemitusque expressit pectore laeto,  
Non aliter manifesta putans abscondere mentis,  
Gaudia quam Lacrymes.   

And now he saw  
'Twas safe to be a Pious Father in Law,  
He shed forced Tears, and from a Joyful Breast,  
Fetched Sighs and Groans, conceiving Tears would best  
Conceal his Inward Joy.   For though it be true, that the greatest part of our Actions, are no other than Vizor and Disguise, and yet may sometimes be Real and True: that, 


Aulus Gelli. Noct.  Haeredis fletus sub persona risus est.   

The Heirs dissembled Tears behind the Screen,  
Could one but peep, would Joyful smiles be seen.   so is it, that in judging of these Accidents, we are to consider how much our Souls are ofttimes agitated with divers Passions. And as they say, that in our Bodies there is a Congregation of divers Humours, of which, that is the Sovereign, which according to the Complexion we are of, is commonly most predominant in us: So, though the Soul have in it divers motions to give it Agitation; yet must there of necessity be one to overrule all the rest, though not with so necessary and absolute a Dominion, but that through the Flexibility and Inconstancy of the Soul, those of less Authority, may upon occasion, reassume their place, and make a little Sally in turn. Thence it is, that we see not only Children, who Innocently Obey, and follow Nature, often Laugh and Cry at the same thing: but not one of us can boast, what Journey soever he may have in hand, that he has the most set his Heart upon, but when he comes to part with his Family and Friends, he will find something that troubles him within; and though he refrain his Tears, yet he puts Foot i'th' Stirrupt, with a Sad and Cloudy Countenance, and what gentle Flame soever may have warmed the Heart of Modest, and Wellborn Virgins, yet are they fain to be forced from about their Mother's Necks, to be put to Bed to their Husbands, whatever this Boon Companion is pleased to say: 

Estne novis nuptis odio venus, arm parentum,  
Frustrantur falsis gaudia lachrymalis, 
Catul. Num. 67.   
Vbertim Thalami quas intra limina fundunt?  
Non, ita me Divi, vera gemunt, juverint.   

Does the Fair Bride the Sport so mainly Dread,  
That she takes on so, when she's put to Bed,  
Her Parents Joys t' allay with a feigned Tear?  
She does not Cry in Earnest, I dare Swear.   Neither is it strange to lament a person, whom a man would by no means should be alive: When I rattle my man, I do it with all the mettle I have, and load him with no feigned, but downright real Curses; but the heat being over, if he should stand in need of me, I should be very ready to do him good: for I instantly turn the leaf. When I call him Calf, and Coxcomb, I do not pretend to entail those titles upon him for ever; neither do I think I give myself the lie in calling him an honest man presently after. Were it not the sign of a fool to talk to ones self, there would hardly be a day or hour wherein I might not be heard to grumble, and mutter to myself, and against myself; Turd in the fools teeth, and yet I do not think that to be my Character. Who for seeing me one while cold, and presently very kind to my Wife, believes the one or the other to be counterfeited, is an Ass. Nero taking leave of his Mother, whom he sent to be drowned, was nevertheless sensible of some emotion at this farewell, and was struck with horror, and pity. 'Tis said, that the light of the Sun is not one continuous thing, but that he darts new rays so thick one upon another, that we cannot perceive the intermission. 


Lucret. l. 5.  Largus enim liquidi fons luminis aetherius Sol  
Irrigat assidue coelum candóre recenti,  
Suppedit atque novo confestim lumine lumen.   

For the aetherial Sun that shines so bright,  
Being a fountain large of liquid light,  
With fresh Rays sprinkles still the cheerful Sky,  
And with new light, the light does still supply.   Just so the Soul variously and interceptibly darts out her Passions. Artabanus surprising once his Nephew Xerxes, Chid him for the sudden alteration of his Countenance. As he was considering the immeasurable Greatness of his Forces passing over the Hellespont, for the Grecian Expedition, he was first seized with a palpitation of Joy, to see so many Millions of Men under his Command, which also appeared in the Gaiety of his Looks: But his Thoughts at the same instant suggesting to him, that of so many Lives, once in an Age at most, there would not be one left, he presently Knit his Brows, and grew Sad, even to Tears. We have resolutely pursued the Revenge of an Injury received, and been sensible of a singular Contentment for the Victory: But we shall Weep notwithstanding: 'tis not for the Victory, though that we shall Weep: there is nothing altered by that: but the Soul looks upon things with another Eye, and represents them to itself with another kind of Face; for every thing has many Faces, and several Aspects. Relations, old Acquaintance, and Friendships, possess our Imaginations, and make them tender for the time: but the Counterturn is so quick, that 'tis gone in a Moment. 

Nil a Deo fieri celeri ratione videtur, 
Lucret. l. 3.   
Quam si mens fieri proponit, & inchoat ipsa.  
Ocius ergo animus quam res se perciet ulla,  
Ante oculos quarum in promptu natura videtur.   

No motions seem so brisk, and quick as those  
The working mind does to be done propose.  
Which once proposed, her violent motions are  
Swifter than any thing we know by far.   And therefore, while we would make one continued thing of all this succession of passion, we deceive ourselves. When Timoleon laments the murder he had committed upon so mature, and generous deliberation, he does not lament the liberty restored to his Country, he does not lament the Tyrant, but he laments his Brother: One part of his duty is performed, let us give him leave to perform the other.   

CHAP. XXXVIII. Of Solitude.  
LEt us praetermit that old comparison betwixt the active, and the solitary life, and as for the fine saying, with which Ambition and Avarice palliate their vices, That we are not born for ourselves, but for the public, let us boldly appeal to those who are most interested in public affairs, let them lay their hands upon their Hearts, and then say, whether, on the contrary, they do not rather aspire to Titles and Offices, and that tumult of the World to make their private advantage at the public expense. But we need not ask them the question; for the corrupt ways by which they arrive at the height to which their ambitions aspire, does manifestly enough declare that their ends cannot be very good. Let us then tell Ambition, that it is she herself who gives us a taste of Solitude; for what does she so much avoid as Society? What does she so much seek as Elbow-room? A man may do well, or ill every where: but if what Boas says be true, that the greatest part is the worse, or what the Preacher says, that there is not one good of a thousand: 

Rari quippe boni numero vix sunt totidem quot 
Juven. Sat. 13.   
Thebazum Porte vel divitis ostia Nili:   

Because the number of the Goods' as few  
As Thebes fair Gates; or rich Nile mouths doth spew:   the contagion is very dangerous in the Crown. A man must either imitate the vicious; or hate them: Both are dangerous, either to resemble them because they are many, or to hate many, because they are unresembling. And Merchants that go to Sea are in the right, when they are cautious that those who embark with them in the same bottom, be neither dissolute Blasphemers, nor vicious otherways; looking upon such society as unfortunate. And therefore it was, that Bias pleasantly said to some, who being with him in a dangerous storm, implored the assistance of the Gods, Peace, speak softly, said he, that they may not know you are here in my company: And of more pressing exemple, Albuquerque Vice Roy in the Indies, for Emanuel King of Portugal, in an extreme peril of Shipwreck, took a young Boy upon his Shoulders, for this only end, that in the Society of their common danger, his innocency might serve to protect him, and to recommend him to the Divine favour, that they might get safe to Shoar: 'Tis not that a Wise Man may not live every where content, either alone, or in the crowd of a Palace: But if it be left to his own choice, he will tell you, that he would fly the very sight of the latter: He can endure it if need be; but if it be referred to him, he will choose the first. He cannot think himself sufficiently rid of Vice, if he must yet contend with it in other Men: Charondas▪ Punished those for ill Men, who were Convict of keeping of ill Company. There is nothing so Unsociable, and Sociable, as Man, the one by his Vice, the other by his Nature. And Antisthenes in my opinion, did not give him a satisfactory Answer, who Reproached him with frequenting ill Company, by saying, That the Physicians Lived well enough amongst the Sick: for if they contribute to the health of the Sick, no doubt, but by the Contagion, continual sight of, and familiarity with Diseases, they must of necessity impair their own. Now the end I suppose is all one, to Live at more leisure, and at greater ease: but Men do not always take the right way; for they often think, they have totally taken leave of all Business, when they have only exchanged one Employment for another. There is little less trouble in Governing a private Family, than a whole Kingdom: wherever the Mind is perplexed, it is in an entire disorder, and Domestic Employments are not less troublesome, for being less important. Moreover, for having shaked off the Court, and Public Employments, we have not taken leave of the principal Vexations of Life. 

— Ratio, & prudentia curas, 
Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 11.   
Non locus effusi late maris arbiter aufert.   

Reason and Prudence, our Affections ease,  
Not remote Voyages, unknown Seas.   Our Ambition, our Avarice, Irresolution, Fears, and Inordinate Desires, do not leave us when we forsake our Native Country: 


Hor. lib. 3. Ode. 1.  Et post equitem sedet atra cura.   

And who does mount his Horse to this, will find,  
He carries Black-browed Madam Care behind.   She oft follows us even to Cloisters, and Philosophical Schools; nor Deserts, nor Caves, Hair-shirts, nor Fasts, can disengage us from her: 


Virg. Ae. l. 4. — Haeret. lateri lethalis arundo.   

The fatal Shaft sticks to the wounded Side.   One telling Socrates, that such a one was nothing Improved by his Travels, I very well believe it, said he, for he took himself along with him. 

Hor. lib. 2. Ode. 16.  Quid terras alio calentes  
Sole mutamus? patria quis exul  
Se quoque fugit?  
To change our Native Soil, why should we Run  
To seek out one warmed by another Sun?  
For yet what Banished Man could ever find,  
When furthest sent, he left himself behind?  If a Man do not first discharge both himself, and his Mind, of the Burden with which he finds himself Oppressed, Motion will but make it press the harder, and sit the heavier, as the Lading of a Ship is of less Encumbrance, when fast, and bestowed in a settled posture; you do a Sick Man more harm than good, in removing him from place to place; you fix and establish the Disease by motion, as Stoops dive deeper into the Earth, by being moved up and down in the place where they are designed to stand. And therefore it is not enough to get remote from the Public; 'tis not enough to shift the Soil only, a Man must fly from the Popular Dispositions that have taken possession of his Soul, he must Sequester and Ravish himself from himself. 

— Rupi jam vincula, dicas,  
Nam luctata canis nodum arripit, attamen illa, 
Perseus. Sat. 5.   
Cum fugit, a collo trahitur pars longa catenae.   

Thou'lt say perhaps, that thou hast broke the Chain,  
Why, so the Dog has gnawed the Knot in 'twain  
That tied him there, but as he flies, he feels  
The ponderous Chain still rattling at his heels.   We still carry our Fetters along with us: 'tis not an absolute Liberty, we yet cast back a kind Look upon what we have left behind us; the Fancy is still full of our old way of Living. 


Lucret. l. 5. — Nisi purgatum est pectus, quae praelia nobis,  
Atque pericula tunc ingratis insinuandum?  
Quantae conscindunt hominum cupidinis acres  
Sollicitum curae, quantique perinde timores?  
Quid ve superbia, spurcitia, ac petulantia quantas  
Efficiunt clades, quid luxus, desidiesque?   

Unless the Mind be Purged, what Conflicts straight,  
And Dangers, will it not insinuate?  
The Lustful Man, how many bitter Cares,  
Do gall, and fret, and then how many Fears?  
What Horrid Mischiefs, what Dire Slaughters too,  
Will not Pride, Lust, and Petulancy do?  
And what from Luxury can we expect,  
And Sloth; but all the ill, ill can effect?   The Mind itself is the Disease, and cannot escape from itself; 

In culpa est animus, 
Hor. l. 1. Ep. 14.  qui se non effugit unquam.   

Still in the Mind the Fault does lie,  
That never from itself can fly.   and therefore is to be called home, and confined within itself: that is the true Solitude, and that may be enjoyed even in Populous Cities, and the Courts of Kings, though more commodiously apart.  
Now since we will attempt to Live alone, and to wave all manner of Conversation amongst Men, let us so Order it, that our Contentation may depend wholly upon ourselves, and dissolve all Obligations that Ally us to others: Let us obtain this from ourselves, that we may Live alone in good earnest, and Live at our ease too. Stilpo, having escaped from the Fire that Consumed the City where he Lived, and where he had his Wife, Children, Goods, and all that ever he was Master of, destroyed by the Flame; Demetrius Poliorcetes seeing him in so great a Ruin of his Country, appear with so Serene and Undisturbed a Countenance, asked him, if he had received no Loss? To which he made Answer, No; and that, thanks be to God, nothing was lost of his; which also was the meaning of the Philosop Antisthenes, when he pleasantly said, that Men should only furnish themselves with such things as would Swim, and might with the Owner escape the Storm; and certainly, a Wise Man never loses any thing, if he have himself. When the City of Nola was Ruined by the Barbarians, Paulinus, who was Bishop of that place, having there lost all he had, and himself a Prisoner, Prayed after this manner, O Lord defend me from being sensible of this Loss; for thou knowest, they have yet touched nothing of that which is mine; The Riches that made him Rich, and the Goods that made him Good, were still kept entire. This it is to make choice of Treasures, that can secure themselves from Plunder and Violence, and to hide them in such a place, into which no one can enter, and that are not to be betrayed by any but ourselves. Wives, Children and Goods, must be had, and especially Health, by him that can get it; but we are not so to set our Hearts upon them, that our Happiness must have its dependence upon any of these; we must reserve a Back-shop, a Withdrawing-Room, wholly our own, and entirely free, wherein to settle our true Liberty, our principal Solitude and Retreat. And in this, we must for the most part, entertain ourselves with ourselves, and so privately, that no Knowledge, or Communication, of any Exotic Concern, be admitted there, there to Laugh, and to Talk, as if without Wife, Children, Goods, Train, or Attendance, to the end, that when it shall so fall out, that we must lose any, or all of these, it may be no new thing to be without them. We have a Mind pliable of itself, that will be Company, has wherewithal to attack, and to defend, to receive, and to give: Let us not then fear in this Solitude, to Languish under an uncomfortable Vacancy. 

In solis sis tibi turba locis.   

In Solitary places be  
Unto thyself good Company.   Virtue is satisfied with herself, without Discipline, without Words, without Effects. In our ordinary actions, there is not one of a thousand that concerns ourselves: He that thou seest Scambling up the Ruins of that Wall, Furious, and Transported, against whom so many Harquebus Shot are levelled; and that other all over Scars, Pale, and Fainting with Hunger, and yet resolved rather to Die, than to open his Gate to Him, dost thou think that these Men are there upon their own account? No peradventure in the behalf of one whom they never saw, and that never concerns himself for their Pains, and Danger, but lies Wallowing the while in Sloth, and Pleasure: This other Slavering, Blear-eyed, Slovenly Fellow; that thou seest come out of his Study after Midnight, dost thou think he has been Tumbling over Books, to Learn how to become a better Man, Wiser, and more Content: No such matter, he will there end his Days, but he will teach Posterity the measure of Plautus his Verses, and the Orthography of a Latin Word: Who is it that does not Voluntarily exchange his Health, his Repose, and his very Life for Reputation, and Glory? The most Useless, Frivolous, and false Coin that passes currant amongst us: Our own Death does not sufficiently terrify, and trouble us, let us moreover charge ourselves, with those of our Wives, Children, and Family: Our own affairs do not afford us anxiety enough, let us undertake those of our Neighbours, and Friends, still more to break our Brains, and torment us. 


Ter. Adel. Act. 1. Sc. 1.  Vah quemquamne hominem in animum instituere aut.  
Parare, quod sit charius, quam ipse est sibi?   

Alas? what mortal will be so unwise  
Any thing dearer, than himself to prize?   Solitude seems to me to have the best pretence, in such as have already employed their most active and flourishing age in the World's service; by the exemple of Thales. We have lived enough for others, let us at least Live out the small Remnant of Life for ourselves; let us now call in our Thoughts, and Intentions to ourselves, and to our own Ease, and Repose: 'Tis no light thing to make a sure Retreat, it will be enough to do without mixing other Erterprises, and Designs, since God gives us leisure to prepare for, and to order our remove, let us make Ready, Truss our Baggage, take leave betimes of the Company, let us disentangle ourselves from those violent importunities that engage us elsewhere, and separate us from ourselves: We must break the Knot of our Obligations, how strong soever, and hereafter Love this, or that; but espouse nothing, but ourselves: That is to say, let the remainder be our own, but not so joined, and so close, as not to be forced away without flaying us, or tearing part of the whole piece. The greatest thing in the World is for a Man to know that he is his own: 'Tis time to wean ourselves from Society, when we can no more add any thing to it; and who is not in a Condition to Lend, must forbid himself to Borrow. Our Forces begin to fail us, and are of no more use for Foreign Offices; let us call them in, and Lock them up at Home: He that can within himself cast off, and Disband the Office● of so many Friendships, and that tumult of Conversation he has contracted in the busy World, let him do it: In this decay of nature, which renders him Useless, Burdensome, and importunate to others, let him have a care of being useless, Burdensome, and importunate to himself: Let him Sooth, and Caress himself, and above all things be sure to Govern himself with Reverence to his Reason, and Conscience to that Degree; as to be ashamed to make a false Step in their Presence. Rarum est enim, ut satis se quisque vereatur. For 'tis rarely seen that Men have Respect, and Reverence enough for themselves. Socrates says, that Boys are to cause themselves to be Instructed, 
Pythag.  Men to Exercise themselves in well doing, and Old Men to retire from all Civil, and Military employments, living at their own Discretion, without the Obligation to any certain Office. There are some Complexions more proper for these Precepts of Retirement, than others, such as are of a Soft and Faint apprehension, and of a tender Will, and Affection, as I am, will sooner incline to this Advice, than Active and Busy Souls; which embrace all, engage in all, and are Hot upon every thing, who offer present, and give themselves up to every occasion. We are to serve ourselves with these accidental and extraneous things; so far as they are pleasant to us, but by no means to lay our principal Foundation there. This is no true one, neither Nature, nor Reason, can allow it so to be, and why therefore should we contrary to their Laws, enslave our own contentment, by giving it into the power of another: To anticipate also the accidents of Fortune, and to deprive ourselves of those things we have in our own power, as several have done upon the account of Devotion, and some Philosophers by discourse; to serve a Man's self, to lie hard, to put out our own Eyes, throw Wealth into the River, and to seek out Grief, (the one by the uneasiness, and misery of this Life, to pretend to bliss in another; the other by laying themselves low to avoid the Danger of falling) are acts of an excessive Nature. The Stoutest, and most obstinate Natures, render even their most obstruce retirements Glorious, and Exemplary. 
Hor. l. 1. Ep. 15.  

— tuta, & parvula laudo,  
Cum res dificiunt, satis inter vilia fortis:  
Verum ubi quid melius contigit, et unctius  
Hos sapere, & solos aio bene vivere, quorum idem  
Conspiciturmitidis fundata pecunia villis.   

Where plenty fails,  
A secure competency I like well,  
And love the Man disaster cannot quell●▪  
But when good Fortune with a liberal hand  
Her gifts bestows; those Men I understand  
Alone happy to live, and to be Wise,  
Whose Money does in neat built Villas rise.   A great deal less would serve my turn well enough. 'Tis enough for me under Fortune's favour to prepare myself for her Disgrace, and being at my ease to represent to myself, as far as my imagination can Stretch, the ill to come; as we do at Justs, and Tilt, where we counterfeit War in the greatest Calm of Peace. I do not think Arcesilaus the Philosopher the less Temperate, and Reformed, for knowing that he made use of Gold, and Silver Vessels, when the condition of his Fortune allowed him so to do: But have a better Opinion of him, than if he had denied himself what he used with Liberality, and Moderation, I see the utmost Limits of Natural necessity, and considering a Poor Man Begging at my Door, ofttimes more Jocund, and more Healthy than I myself am, I put myself into his place, and attempt to dress my Mind after his Mode; and running in like manner over other examples, though I fancy Death, Poverty, Contempt, and Sickness treading on my Heels, I easily resolve not to be affrighted, forasmuch as a less than I takes them with so much Patience, and am not willing to believe that a less understanding can do more than a greater; or that the effects of precept cannot arrive to as great a height, as those of Custom: And knowing of how uncertain duration these accidental conveniences are, I never forget, in the height of all my enjoyments, to make it my chiefest Prayer to Almighty God, that he will please to render me content with myself; and the Condition wherein I am. I see several Young Men very Gay, and Frolic; who nevertheless keep a Mass of Pills in their Trunk at home, to take when the Rheum shall fall, which they fear so much the less, because they think they have Remedy at hand: Every one should do the same, and moreover if they find themselves subject to some more violent Disease, should furnish themselves with such Medicines as may Numb and Stupefy the part: The employment a Man should choose for a Sedentary Life, ought neither to be a Laborious, nor an unpleasing one, otherwise 'tis to no purpose at all to be retired, and this depends upon every one's liking, and humour; mine has no manner of complacency for Husbandry, and such as Love it, aught to apply themselves to it with Moderation. 

Conantur sibi res, non se submittere rebus. 
Hore Ep. 1.    

A Man should to himself his Business fit,  
But should not to Affairs himself submit.   Husbandry is otherwise a very Servile Employment, as Sallust tells us; though some parts of it are more excusable than the rest, as the Care of Gardens, which Zenophon attributes to Cyrus; and a mean may be found out betwixt Sordid and Homely Affection, so full of perpetual Solitude, which is seen in Men who make it their entire Business and Study, and that stupid and extreme Negligence, letting all things go at Random, we see in others. 


Hor. Ep. 12. — Democriti pecus edit agellos,  
Cultaque, dum peregre est animus sine corpore velox.   

Democritus his Cattle spoils his Corn,  
Whilst he from thence on Fancy's Wings is born.   But let us hear what Advice the Younger Pliny gives his Friend 
* Caninius Rufus.  Cornelius Rufus, upon the Subject of Solitude; I advise thee, in the plentiful Retirement wherein thou art, to leave to thy Hinds, and inferior Servants, the Care of thy Husbandry, and to addict thyself to the Study of Letters, to extract from thence something that may be entirely and absolutely thine own. By which, he means Reputation; like Cicero, who says, that he would employ his Solitude and Retirement, from Public Affairs, to acquire by his Writings an Immortal Life. 

— Vsque adeo ne  
Scire tuum nihil est, 
Per. Sat. 1.  nisi te scire hoc sciat alter?   

Is all thy Learning nothing, unless thou,  
That thou art Knowing, make all others know?   It appears to be reason, when a Man talks of Retiring from the World, that he should look quite out of himself. These do it but by halves. They design well enough for themselves, 'tis true, when they shall be no more in it; but still they pretend to extract the fruits of that Design from the World, when absented from it, by a Ridiculous Contradiction. The Imagination of those who seek Solitude, upon the account of Devotion, filling their Hopes with certainty of Divine Promises in the other Life, is much more rationally founded. They propose to themselves God, an infinite Object in Goodness and Power. The Soul has there wherewithal, at full liberty, to satiate her Desires. Afflictions and Sufferings turn to their advantage, being undergone for the acquisition of an eternal Health, and everlasting Joys. Death is to be wished and longed for, where it is the passage to so perfect a Condition. And the Tartness of these severe Rules they impose upon themselves, is immediately taken away by Custom, and all their Carnal Appetites baffled and subdued, by refusing to humour and feed them; they being only supported by use and exercise. This sole end therefore, of another happy and immortal Life, is that which really merits, that we should abandon the Pleasures and Conveniences of this. And who can really and constantly inflame his Soul with the Ardour of this Lively Faith and Hope, does erect for himself in this Solitude, a more Voluptuous and Delicious Life, than any other sort of Living whatever. Neither the end then, nor the means of this Advice of Pliny, pleases me, for we often fall out of the Frying-pan into the Fire. This Book Employment is as painful as any other, and as great an Enemy to Health, which ought to be the first thing in every Man's prospect; neither ought a Man to be allured with the pleasure of it, which is the same that destroys the Wary, Avaricious, Voluptuous and Ambitious Men. The Wise give us Caution enough, to beware the Treachery of our Desires, and to distinguish true and entire Pleasures, from such as are mixed and complicated with greater Pain. For the greatest part of Pleasures, (say they,) Wheedle and Caress, only to strangle us, like those Thiefs the Egyptians called Philiste; and if the Headache should come before Drunkenness, we should have a care of Drinking too much: but Pleasure to deceive us, Marches before, and conceals her Train. Books are pleasant, but if by being over Studious, we impair our Health, and spoil our good Humour, two of the best Pieces we have, let us give it over; for I for my part am one of those who think, that no Fruit derived from them, can recompense so great a Loss. As Men who feel themselves Weakened by a long Series of Indisposition, give themselves up at last to the Mercy of Medicine, and submit to certain Rules of Living, which they are for the future never to Transgress; so he who Retires, weary of, and disgusted, with the common way of Living, aught to Model this new One he enters into, by the Rules of Reason, and to Institute and Establish it by Premeditation, and after the best Method he can contrive. He ought to have taken leave of all sorts of Labour, what advantage soever he may propose to himself by it, and generally to have shaken off all those Passions which disturb the Tranquillity of Body and Soul, and then choose the Way that best suits with his own Humour: 

Vnusquisque sua noverit ire via. 
Propert. lib. Eleg. 25.    

Every one best doth know,  
In his own Way to go.   In Menagery, Study, Hunting, and all other Exercises, Men are to proceed to the utmost limits of Pleasure, but must take heed of engaging further, where Solitude and Trouble begin to mix. We are to reserve so much Employment only, as is necessary to keep us in Breath, and to defend us from the Inconveniences, that the other Extreme, of a Dull and Stupid Laziness brings along with it. There are some Sterile, Knotty Sciences, and chiefly Hammered out for the Crowed; let such be left to them who are Engaged in the Public Service: I for my part care for no other Books, but either such, as are pleasant and easy, to delight me, or those, that comfort and instruct me, how to Regulate my Life and Death. 


Hor. Ep. 44. lib. 1.  Tacitum sylvas inter reptare salubres,  
Curantem quidquid dignum sapiente bonoque est.   

Silently Meditating in the Groves,  
What best, a Wise and Honest Man behoves.   Wiser Men propose to themselves a Repose wholly Spiritual, as having great force and vigour of Mind: but for me, who have a very ordinary Soul, I find it very necessary, to support myself with Bodily Conveniences; and Age having of late deprived me of those Pleasures that were most acceptable to me, I instruct and whet my Appetite to those that remain, and are more suitable to this other season. We ought to hold with all our force, both of Hands and Teeth, the use of the Pleasures of Life, that our Years, one after another, snatch away from us. 

Carpamus dulci●, nostrum est, 
Perseus. Sat. 5.   
Quod vivis, cinis, & manes, & fabula fies.   

Let us Enjoy Life's Sweets, for shortly we,  
Ashes, Pale Ghosts, and Fables, all shall be.   Now as to the End, that Pliny and Cicero propose to us, of Glory; 'tis infinitely wide of my account; for Ambition, is of all other, the most contrary Humour to Solitude; and Glory and Repose are so inconsistent, that they cannot possibly Inhabit in one and the same place; and for so much as I understand, those have only their Arms and Legs disengaged from the Crowd, their Mind and Intention remains engaged behind more than ever. 

Tun' vetule auriculis alienis colligis escas? 
Perseus. Sat. 1.    

Dost thou, Old Dotard, at these Years,  
Gather fine Tales for others Ears?   They are only Retired to take a better Leap, and by a stronger Motion, to give a brisker Charge into the Crowd. Will you see how they shoot short? Let us put into the Counterpoise the Advice of two Philosophers, of two very different Sects, Writing, the one to Idomeneus, the other to Lucilius, their Friends, to Retire into Solitude from Worldly Honours, and the Administration of Public Affairs. You have, say they, hitherto Lived Swimming and Floating, come now, and Die in the Harbour: You have given the first part of your Life to the Light, give what remains to the Shade. It is impossible to give over Business, if you do not also quit the Fruit, and therefore disengage yourselves from all the Concerns of Name and Glory. 'Tis to be feared, the Lustre of your former Actions will give you but too much Light, and follow you into your most private, and most obscure Retreat: Quit with other Pleasures, that which proceeds from the Approbation of another: And as to your Knowledge and Parts, never concern yourselves, they will not lose their effect, if yourselves be ever the better for them. Remember him, who being asked, why he took so much Pains in an Art, that could come to the Knowledge of but few Persons? A few are enough for me, replied he, I have enough of one, I have enough of never a one. He said true, you, and a Companion, are Theatre enough to one another, or you to yourself. Let us be to you the whole People, and the whole People to you but one: 'Tis an unworthy Ambition, to think to derive Glory from a Man's Sloth and Privacy: You are to do like the Beasts of Chase, who put out the Track at the entrance into their Den. You are no more to concern yourself, how the World talks of you, but how you are to talk to yourself: Retire yourself into yourself, but first prepare yourself there to receive yourself. It were a folly to trust yourself in your own Hands, if you cannot Govern yourself, a Man may as well miscarry alone, as in Company, till you have rendered yourself as such, as before whom you dare not Trip, and till you have a Bashfulness and Respect for yourself, Observantur species honestae animo, Let just and honest things be still Represented to the Mind. 
Cicero Thus. Quaes'. 1. ●.  Present continually to your Imagination, Cato, Phocio and Antistides, in whose presence, the Fools themselves will hide their Faults; and make them Controulers of all your Intentions. Should they deviate from Virtue, your Respect to them will again set you right; they will keep you in the way of being Contented with yourself, to Borrow nothing of any other but yourself; to restrain and fix your Soul in certain and limited Thoughts, wherein she may please herself, and having understood the true and real Goods, which Men the more enjoy, the more they understand, to rest satisfied, without desire of prolongation of Life or Memory. This is the Precept of the True and Natural Philosophy, not of a Boasting and Prating Philosophy, such as that of the two former.   

CHAP. XXXIX. A Consideration upon Cicero.  
ONe Word more by way of Comparison, betwixt these two. There are to be gathered out of the Writings of Cicero, and this Younger Pliny, (but little in my opinion, resembling his Uncle in his Humour,) infinite Testimonies of a beyond measure, Ambitious Nature; and amongst others, this for one, that they both, in the sight of all the World, solicit the Historians of their time, not to forget them in their Mesmoires; and Fortune, as if in spite, has made the Vacancy of those Requests Live upon Record down to this Age of ours, when she has long since Damned the Histories themselves to Oblivion. But this exceeds all meanness of Spirit in Persons of such Quality, as they were, to think to derive any great and living Renown from Babbling and Prating; even to the Publishing of their private Letters to their Friends, and so withal, that though some of them were never sent, the opportunity being lost, they nevertheless expose them to the light, with this worthy excuse, that they were hereafter unwilling to lose their Labours, and have their Lucubrations thrown away. Was it not very well becoming two Consuls of Rome, Sovereign Magistrates of the Republic that Commanded the World, to spend their time in contriving Acquaint and Elegant●Missives, thence to gain the Reputation of being Critics, in their own Mother Tongues: What could a pitiful Schoolmaster have done worse, whose trade it was to get his Living? If the Acts of Zenophon, and Caesar, had not far enough transcended their Eloquence, I scarce believe they would ever have taken the pains, to have writ them. They made it their business to recommend not their Speaking, but their doing. And could the perfection of eloquence have added an lustre proportionable to the merit of a great Person, certainly Scipio, and Laelius, had never resigned the honour of their Comedies, with all the luxuriences, and delicacies of the Latin Tongue, to an African Slave; for that, that work was theirs, the Beauty and excellency of it do sufficiently declare; besides, Terence himself confesses as much, and I should take it ill from any one, that would dispossess me of that belief. 'Tis a kind of injurious Mockery, and Offence, to extol a Man for Qualities, misbecoming his Mertit, and Condition, though otherwise commendable in themselves, but such as ought not however to be his chiefest Talon: As if a Man should commend a King, for being a good Painter, a good Architect, a good Marksman, or a good Runner at the Ring; commendations that add no Honour, unless mentioned altogether, and in the train of those that are more properly applicable to him, namely, his Justice, and the Science of Governing, and conducting his People both in Peace, and War. At this rate agriculture was an Honour to Cyrus, and Eloquence, and the knowledge of good Letters to Charlemagne. I have in my time known some, who by that Knack of Writing, have got both their Titles, and Fortune, disown their Apprenticeage, purposely corrupt their Style, and affect ignorance in so vulgar a quality (which also our Nation observes, to be rarely seen in very intelligent hands) to seek a reputation by better qualities. Demosthenes, his Companions in the Embassy to Philip, extolling that Prince for Handsome, Eloquent, and a Stout Drinker, Demosthenes replied, that those were commendations more proper for a Woman; an Advocate, or a Sponge, than for a King. 

Imperet bellante prior jacentem 
Horm. Carm▪   
Lenis in hostem.   

First let his Empire from his valour flow,  
And then, by mercy on a prostrate foe.   'Tis not his profession to know either how to Hunt, or to Dance well. 

Orabunt causas alii, coelique meatus  
Describent radio, & fulgentia sydera dicent. 
Virg. Aen. l. 6.   
Hic regere imperio populos sciat.   

Let others plead at the litigious Bar  
Describe the Spheres, point out each twinkling Star,  
Let this Man rule, a greater art by far.   Plutarch says moreover, that to appear so excellent in these less necessary Qualities, is to produce Witness against a Man's self, that he has spent his time, and applied his Study ill, which ought to have been employed in the acquisition of more necessary, and more useful things, so that Philip King of Macedon, having heard that Great Alexander his Son, Sing once at a Feast to the Wonder, and Envy of the best Musicians there: Art not thou ashamed, said he to him, to Sing so well? And to the same Philip a Musician, with whom he was disputing about some things concerning his Art: Heaven forbid? Sir, said he, that so great a misfortune should ever befall you, as to understand these things better than I. A King should be able to answer as Iphicrates did the Orator, who pressed upon him in his invective after this manner: And what art thou, that thou bravest it at this rate? art thou a Man at Arms, art thou an Archer, art thou a Pike? I am none of all this; but I know how to Command all these. And Antisthenes took it for an argument of little Valour, in Ismenas', that he was commended for Playing excellently well upon a Flute. I know very well, that when I hear any one insist upon the Language of Essays, I had rather a great deal he would say nothing. 'Tis not so much to elevate the Style as to depress the Sense, and so much the more offensively, as they do it Disgracefully, and out of the Way. I am much deceived if many other Essayists, deliver more worth noting as to the matter, and how well, or ill soever, if any other Writer has strewed them either much more Material, or thicker upon his Paper than myself. To bring the more in, I only Muster up the Heads, should I annex the sequel, I should strangely Multiply this Volume: And how many Stories have I Scattered up and down, in this Book, that I only touch upon, which should any one more curiously search into, they would find matter enough to produce infinite Essays: Neither those Stories, nor my allegations do always serve simply for Example, Authority, or Ornament, I do not only regard them for the use I make of them: They carry sometimes besides what I apply them to, the seed of a more Rich, and a Bolder matter, and sometimes collaterally a more delicate Sound both to me myself, who will express no more in this Place, and to others who shall happen to be of my Ear.  
But returning to the speaking virtue; I find no great choice betwixt, not knowing to speak any thing but very ill, and not knowing to speak any thing but very well. Non est ornamentum virile concimitas. 
Seneca. Epist. 6.  Neatness of Style, is no Manly Ornament. The Sages tell us, that as to what concerns Knowledge, there is nothing but Philosophy; and to what concerns effects, nothing but virtue, that is generally proper to all Degrees, and to all orders. There is something like this in these two other Philosophers, for they also promise Eternity, to the Letters they Write to their Friends; but 'tis after another manner, and by accommodating themselves, for a good end, to the vanity of another; for they Write to them, that if the concern of making themselves known to future Ages, and the Thirst of Glory, do yet detain them in the management of public affairs, and make them fear the Solitude, and retirement to which they would persuade them; let them never trouble themselves more about it, forasmuch as they shall have Credit enough with posterity to assure them, that were there nothing else but the very Letters thus Writ to them, those Letters will render their names as known, and famous, as their own public actions themselves could do. And besides this difference, these are not Idle, and empty Letters, that contain nothing but a fine Gingle of well chosen Words, and fine Couched phrases, but rather replete, and abounding with Grave, and Learned Discourses, by which a Man may render himself not more Eloquent, but more Wise, and that instruct us not to speak, but to do well: A way with that Eloquence that so enchants us with its Harmony, that we should more Study it than things. Unless you will allow that of Cicero, to be of so Supreme a perfection, as to form a complete Body of itself: And of him I shall further add one Story, we read of him to this purpose, wherein his nature will much more manifestly be laid open to us: He was to make an Oration in public, and found himself a little straightened in time, to fit his Words to his Mouth, as he had a mind to do; when Eros one of his Slaves brought him word, that the audience was deferred till the next Day, at which he was so ravished with Joy, that he enfranchised him for the good news.  
Upon this subject of Letters, I will add this more to what has been already said, that it is a kind of Writing, wherein my Friends think I can do something; and I am willing to confess, I should rather have chose to publish my Whimsies that way, than any other, had I had to whom to Write; but I wanted such a settled Correspondency, as I once had to attract me to it, to raise my Fancy, and to maintain the rest against me. For to Traffic with the Wind, as some others have done, and to Forge vain Names to direct my Letters to, in a serious subject, I could never do it but in a Dream, being a sworn Enemy to all manner of falsification: I should have been more diligent, and more confidently secure, had I had a Judicious and Indulgent Friend, to whom to address, than thus to expose myself to various judgements of a whole People, and I am deceived if I had not succeeded better: I have naturally a Comic, and familiar Style; but it is a peculiar one, and not proper for Public business, but like the Language I speak, too Compact, Irregular, Abrubt, and Singular; and as to Letters of Ceremony, that have no other substance, than a fine contexture of courteous, and obliging Words, I am wholly to seek, I have neither faculty, nor relish, for those tedious offers of Service, and Affection; I am not good natured to that degree, and should not forgive myself, should I offer more, than I intent, which is very remote from the present practice; for there never was so abject, and servile prostitution of tenders of Life, Soul, Devotion, Adoration, Vassal, Slave, and I cannot tell what, as now; all which expressions are so commonly, and so indifferently Posted to and fro by every one, and to every one, that when they would profess a greater, and more respective inclination upon more just occasions, they have not wherewithal to express it: I hate all air of Flattery to Death, which is the cause that I naturally fall into a Shy, Rough, and crude way of speaking, that to such as do not know me, may seem a little to relish of disdain: I Honour those most to whom I show the least Honour, and Respect, and where my Soul moves with the greatest Cheerfulness, I easily forget the Ceremonies of Look, and Gesture; I offer myself Faintly, and Bluntly, to them whose I effectually am, and tender myself the least to him, to whom I am the most devoted: Methinks they should read it in my Heart, and that my expression would but injure the Love I have conceived within. To Welcome, take Leave, give Thanks, Accost, offer my Service, and such verbal Formalities, as the Laws of our modern civility enjoin, I know no Man so stupidly unprovided of Language as myself: And have never been employed in Writing Letters of Favour, and Recommendation, that he, in whose behalf it was, did not think my mediation Cold, and Imperfect. The Italians are great Printers of Letters, I do believe I have at least an hundred several Volumes of them; of all which, those of Hannibal Caro, seem to me to be the best: If all the Paper I have Scribbled to the Ladies all the time, when my Hand was really prompted by my Passion, were now in being, there might Peradventure be found a Page worthy to be communicated to our young enamoratoes, that are Besotted with that Fury. I always Write my Letters Post, and so precipitously, that though I Write an intolerable ill Hand, I rather choose to do it myself, than to employ another; for I can find none able to follow me, and never transcribe any; but have accustomed the great ones that know me to endure my Blots, and Dashes, and upon Paper without Fold, or Margin. Those that cost me the most Pains, are the worst of mine; when I once begin to draw it in by Head and Shoulders, 'tis a sign that I am not there▪ I fall too without premeditation, or design, the first word begets the second, and so to the end of the Chapter. The Letters of this Age consist more in fine Foldings, and Prefaces, than matter; whereas I had rather Write two Letters, than Close, and Fold up one, and always assign that employment to some other; as also when the business of my Letter is dispatched, I would with all my heart transferr it to another Hand, to add those long Harangues, Offers, and Prayers, that we place at the Bottom, and should be glad that some new custom would discharge us, of that unnecessary trouble; as also of superscribing them with a long Ribble-row of Qualities, and Titles, which for fear of mistakes, I have several times given over Writing, and especially to Men of the long Robe. There are so many innovations of Offices, that 'tis hard to place so many Titles of Honour in their proper, and due order, which also being so dearly bought, they are neither to be mistaken, nor omitted without offence. I find the same fault likewise with charging the fronts, and Title Pages of the Books we commit to the Press, with such a clutter of Titles.   

CHAP. XL. That the Relish of Goods, and Evils, does in a great measure depend upon the opinion we have of them.  
MEn (says an ancient Greek Sentence) are tormented with the Opinions they have of things, and not by the things themselves. It were a great Victory obtained for the relief of our miserable Humane Condition, could this proposition be established for certain, and true throughout. For if evils have no admission into us; but by the judgement we ourselves make of them, it should seem that it is then in our own power to despise them, or to turn them to good. If things surrender themselves to our mercy, why do we not convert, and accommodate them to our advantage? If what we call Evil, and Torment, is neither Evil, nor Torment of itself, but only that our Fancy gives it that Quality, and makes it so, it is in us to change, and alter it, and it being in our own choice, if there be no constraint upon us, we must certainly be very strange Fools, to take Arms for that side, which is most offensive to us, and to give Sickness, Want, and contempt, a nauseous taste, if it be in our power to give them a more graceful Relish, and if Fortune simply providing the matter, 'tis for us to give it the form. Now that which we call Evil, is not so of itself, or at least to that degree that we make it; and that it depends upon us, to give it another taste or complexion, (for all comes to one) let us examine how that can be maintained. If the original being of those things we fear, had power to lodge themselves in us, by their own authority, it would then lodge itself alike, and in like manner in all; for Men are all of the same kind, and saving in greater, and less proportions, are all provided with the same utensils and instruments to conceive and to judge; but the diversity of opinions we have of those things, does clearly evidence, that they only enter us by composition: One particular Person, peradventure admits them in their true being; but a thousand others give them a new, and contrary being in them. We hold Death, Poverty, and Grief, for our principal Enemies, but this Death which some repute, the most dreadful of all dreadful things, who does not know that others call it the only secure Harbour, from the Storms, and Tempests of Life? The Sovereign good of Nature? the sole Support of Liberty, and the Common, and sudden Remedy of all Evils? And as the one expect it with Fear, and Trembling, the other support it with greater Ease than Life. That Blade complains of its facility, 

Mors utinam pavidos vitae subducere nolles.  
Sed virtus te sola daret! 
Lucan. lib. 4.    

O Death I would thou wouldst the Coward spare,  
That but the daring none might the confer.   But let us leave these Glorious Courages. Theodorus answered Lysimachus, who threatened to Kill him, thou wilt do a brave thing, said he, to arrive at the force of a Cantharideses. The greatest part of Philosophers, are observed to have either purposely prevented, or hastened, and assisted their own Death. How many ordinary people do we see led to Execution, and that not to a simple Death, but mixed with Shame, and sometimes with grievous Torments, appear with such assurance, what through obstinacy, or natural simplicity, that a Man can discover no change from their ordinary condition? Settling their Domestic affairs, recommending them to their Friends, Singing, Preaching, and Diverting the People so much, as sometimes to Sally into Jests, and to Drink to their Companions, as well as Socrates? One that they were leading to the Gallows, told them they must not carry him through such a Street, lest a Merchant that lived there, should Arrest him by the way, for an old Debt. Another told the Hangman, he must not touch his Neck, for fear of making him Laugh he was so Ticklish. Another answered his Confessor, who promised him he should that day Sup with our Lord. Do you go then, said he, in my Room; for I for my part keep fast to day. Another having called for Drink, and the Hangman having Drank first, said he would not Drink after him, for fear of catching the Pox. Every body has heard the Tale of the Picard, to whom being upon the Ladder they presented a Whore, telling him (as our Law does sometimes permit) that if he would Marry her, they would save his Life, he having a while considered her, and perceiving that she Halted, Come tie up, tie up, said he, she limps. And they tell another Story of the same kind, of a fellow in Denmark, who being condemned to lose his Head, and the like condition being proposed to him upon the Scaffold, refused it, by reason the Maid they offered him, had hollow Cheeks, and too sharp a Nose. A Servant at Tholouse being accused of Heresy, for the sum of his Belief, referred himself to that of his Master, a young Student Prisoner with him, choosing rather to die, than suffer himself to be persuaded, that his Master could err. We read that of the inhabitants of Arras, when Lewis the eleventh took that City, a great many let themselves be Hanged, rather than they would say, God Save the King. And amongst that mean-souled race of Men, the Buffoons, there having been some, who would not leave their Fooling at the very moment of Death. He that the Hangman turned off the Ladder cried, Launch the Galley, an ordinary foolish saying of his; and the other, whom at the point of Death his Friends having laid upon a Pallet before the Fire, the Physician ask him where his Pain lay, betwixt the Bench and the Fire, said he, and the Priest, to give him the extreme Unction, Groping for his Feet, which his Pain had made him pull up to him, you will find them, said he, at the end of my Legs. To one that being present exhorted him to recommend himself to God, why who goes thither? said he; and the other replying, it will presently be yourself, if it be his good pleasure; would I were sure to be there by to morrow Night, said he; do but recommend yourself to him said the other, and you will soon be there: I were best then, said he, to carry my recommendations myself. In the Kingdom of Narsingua to this day, the Wives of their Priests, are buried alive with the Bodies of their Husbands; all other Wives are burnt at their Husband's Funerals, which also they do not only constantly, but cheerfully undergo: At the death of their King, his Wives, and Concubines, his Favourites, all his Officers, and Domestic servants, which make up a great number of people, present themselves so cheerfully to the Fire, where his Body is burnt, that they seem to take it for a singular honour, to accompany their Master in death. During our late War of Milan, where there happened so many take, and re-taking of Towns, the people impatient of so many various changes of Fortune, took such a resolution to die, that I have heard my Father say, he there saw a List taken of five and twenty Masters of Families, that made themselves away in one week's time: An accident somewhat resembling that of the Zanthians, who being besieged by Brutus, precipitated themselves, Men, Women, and Children, into such a furious appetite of dying, that nothing can be done to evade death, they did not put in practice to avoid life; insomuch, that Brutus had much ado to save but a very small number. Every opinion is of force enough, to make itself to be espoused at the expense of life. The first Article of that valiant Oath, that Greece took, and observed in the Median War, was that every one should sooner exchange life for death, than their own Laws for those of Persia. What a World of people do we see in the Wars betwixt the Turks, and the Greeks, rather embrace a cruel death, than to uncircumcise themselves to admit of Baptism? An example of which no sort of Religion is incapable. The Kings of Castille, having Banished the Jews out of their Dominions, John King of Portugal in consideration of eight Crowns a Head, sold them a retirement into his, for a certain limited time; upon condition, that the time perfixt coming to expire, they should be gone; and he to furnish them with Shipping, to transport them into Africa. The limited day came, which once lapsed, they were given to understand, that such as were afterwards found in the Kingdom should remain Slaves: Vessels were very slenderly provided, and those who embarked in them were rudely, and villainously used by the Seamen, who besides other indignities, kept them cruising upon the Sea, one while forwards, and another backwards, till they had spent all their provisions, and were constrained to buy of them at so dear rates, and so long withal, that they set them not on Shoar, till they were all stripped to the very Shirts. The news of this inhuman usage, being brought to those who remained behind, the greater part of them resolved upon Slavery, and some made a show of changing Religion. Emanuel the successor for of John, being come to the Crown, first set them at liberty; and afterwards altering his mind, ordered them to depart his Country, assigning three Ports for their passage. Hoping (says the Bishop Osorius, no contemptible Latin Historian of these later times) that the favour of the liberty he had given them, having failed of converting them to Christianity; yet the difficulty of committing themselves to the mercy of the Mariners, and of abandoning a Country they were now habituated to, and were grown very rich in, to go, and expose themselves in strange and unknown Regions, would certainly do it: But finding himself deceived in his expectation, and that they were all resolved upon the Voyage; he cut-off two of the three Ports he had promised them, to the end, that the length and incommodity of the passage, might reduce some; or that he might have opportunity, by crowding them all into one place, the more conveniently to execute what he had designed; which was to force all the Children under fourteen years of Age, from the Arms of their Fathers and Mothers, to transport them from their sight and conversation, into a place where they might be instructed, and brought up in our Religion. He says that this produced a most horrid Spectacle: The natural affection betwixt the Parents and their Children, and moreover their Zeal to their ancient Belief, contending against this violent Decree. Fathers and Mothers were commonly seen making themselves away, and by a yet much more Rigorous Example, precipitating out of Love and Compassion, their young Children into Wells and Pits, to avoid the Severity of this Law. As to the remainder of them, the time that had been prefixed being expired, for want of means to transport them, they again returned into Slavery. Some also turned Christians, upon whose Faith, as also that of their Posterity, even to this Day, which is a Hundred Years since, few Portuguese can yet rely or believe them to be real Converts; though Custom, and length of time, are much more powerful Counsellors in such Changes, than all other Constraints whatever. In the Town of Castlenau-Darry, Fifty Heretics, Albegeois, at one time suffered themselves to be Burnt alive in one Fire, rather than they would renounce their Opinions. Quoties non modo ductores nostri, dit Cicero, 
Cicero.  sed universi etiam exercitus, ad non dubiam mortem concurrerunt? How oft, have not only our Leaders, but whole Armies, run to a certain and apparent Death. I have seen an intimate Friend of mine, run headlong upon Death with a real affection, and that was rooted in his heart by divers plausible Arguments, which he would never permit me to dispossess him of, upon the first Honourable occasion that offered itself to him, to precipitate himself into it, without any manner of visible reason, with an obstinate and ardent desire of Dying. We have several Examples of our own times of those, even so much as to little Children, who for fear of a Whipping, or some such little thing, have dispatched themselves. And, what shall we not fear (says one of the Ancients to that purpose,) if we dread that, which Cowardice itself has chosen for its Refuge? Should I here produce a tedious Catalogue of those of all Sexes and Conditions, and of all sorts, even in the most happy Ages, who have either with great Constancy looked Death in the Face, or voluntarily sought it; and sought it not only to avoid the Evils of this Life, but some, purely to avoid the Satiety of Living; and others, for the hope of a better Condition elsewhere, I should never have done. Nay, the Number is so infinite, that in truth, I should have a better Bargain on't, to reckon up those who have feared it. This one therefore shall serve for all; Pyrrho the Philosopher, being one Day in a Boat, in a very great Tempest, showed to those he saw the most Affrighted about him, and encouraged them by the Example of a Hog, that was there, nothing at all concerned at the Storm. Shall we then dare to say, that this advantage of Reason, of which we so much Boast, and upon the account of which, we think ourselves Masters and Emperors, over the rest of the Creatures, was given us for a Torment? To what end serves the Knowledge of things, if it renders us more Unmanly? If we lose the Tranquillity and Repose we should enjoy without it? And if it put us into a worse Condition, than Pyrrho's Hog? Shall we employ the Understanding, that was conferred upon us for our greatest Good, to our own Ruin? Setting ourselves against the design of Nature, and the universal Order of things, which intent, that every one should make use of the Faculties, Members and Means, he has, to his own best Advantage? But it may peradventure be Objected against me; Your Rule is true enough, as to what concerns Death: But what will you say of Necessity? What will you moreover say of Pain, that Aristippus, Hieronimus, and almost all the Wise Men, have reputed the worst of Evils? And those who have denied it by word of Mouth, did however confess it in Effects? Possidonius being extremely Tormented with a sharp and painful Disease, Pompeius came to Visit him, excusing himself, that he had taken so unseasonable a time to come to hear him discourse of Philosophy; God forbid, said Possidonius to him again, that Pain should ever have the power to hinder me from talking, and thereupon fell immediately upon a discourse of the Contempt of Pain: But in the mean time, his own Infirmity was playing its part, and plagued him to the purpose; to which he Cried out, thou may'st work thy Will Pain, and Torment me with all the power thou hast, but thou shalt never make me say, that thou art an Evil. This Story that they make such a Clutter withal, what is there in it, I fain would know, to the Contempt of Pain? It only Fights it with Words, and in the mean time, if the Shootings and Dolours he felt, did not move him, why did he interrupt his Discourse? Why did he fancy, he did so great a thing, in forbearing to confess it an Evil? All does not here consist in the Imagination, our Fancies may work upon other things: But this here is a certain Science that is playing its part, of which our Senses themselves are judge. 


Lucae●. 4.  Qui nisi sunt veri, ratio quoque falsa sit omnis.   

Which if it be not here most true;  
Reason itself must be false too.   Shall we persuade our Skins, that the Jerks of a Whip tickle us? Or our Taste, that a Potion of Aloes is Graves Wine. Pyrrho's Hog is here in the same Predicament with us; he is not afraid of Death, 'tis true, but if you Beat him, he will Cry out to some purpose: Shall we force the general Law of Nature, which in every Living Creature under Heaven, is seen to Tremble under Pain? The very Trees seem to Groan under the Blows they receive. Death is only felt by Discourse, forasmuch as it is the motion of an instant. 

Aut fuit, aut veniet, nihil est presentis in illa, 
Ovid. Epist. Aniad.   
Morsque minus paenae, quam mora mortis habet.   

Death's always past, or coming on, in this  
There never any thing of present is:  
And the delays of Death more painful are,  
Than Death itself, and Dying is by far.   A Thousand Beasts, a Thousand Men, are sooner Dead than Threatened. That also which we principally pretend to Fear in Death, is Pain, the ordinary forerunner of it: Yet, if we may believe a Holy Father, Malam mortem non facit, nisi quod sequitur mortem. Nothing makes Death Evil, but what follows it. And I should yet say more probably, that neither that which goes before, nor that which follows after, are at all the appendants of Death: We excuse ourselves falsely. And I find by experience, that it is rather the impatience of the Imagination of Death, that makes us impatient of Pain; and that we find it doubly grievous, as it Threatens us with Death. But Reason accusing our Cowardice, for fearing a thing so sudden, so inevitable, and so insensible, we take the other as the more excusable pretence. All ills that carry no other danger along with them, but simply the Evils themselves, we despise as things of no danger. The Toothache, or the Gout, as painful as they are, being yet not reputed Mortal, who reckons them in the Catalogue of Diseases? But let us presuppose, that in Death we principally regard the Pain, as also, there is nothing to be feared in Poverty, but the Miseries it brings along with it, of Thirst, Hunger, Cold, Heat, Watching, and the other Inconveniences it makes us suffer, yet still we have nothing to do with any thing but Pain. I will grant, and very willingly, that it is the worst Accident of our Being, (for I am the Man upon Earth, that the most Hates, and avoids it, considering, that hitherto I thank God I have had so little Traffic with it,) but still it is in us, if not to annihilate, at least, to lessen it by Patience, and though the Body should Mutiny, to Maintain the Soul nevertheless in a good Temper. And were it not so, who had ever given Reputation to Virtue, Valour, Force, Magnanimity, and Resolution? where were their parts to be played, if there were no Pain to be Defied? Avida est periculi virtus. 
Seneca.  Virtue is greedy of danger. Were there no lying upon the hard ground, no enduring, armed at all pieces, the Meridional Heats, no feeding upon the flesh of Horses, and Asses, no seeing a Man's self hacked and hewed to pieces, no suffering a Bullet to be pulled out from amongst the shattered Bones, the sticking up, cauterising, and searching of Wounds, by what means were the advantage we covet to have over the Vulgar to be acquired? 'Tis far from flying Evil and Pain, what the Sages say, that of Actions equally good, a Man should most covet to perform that wherein there is greater Labour and Pain. 
Cicero de ●in. l. 2.  Non est enim hilaritate, nec lascivia, nec risu, aut joco comite levitatis, sed saepe etiam tristes firmitate, & constantia sunt beati. For Men are not only happy by Mirth and Wantonness, neither by Laughter and Jesting, the Companion of Levity: But oft times, the Graver and more Melancholic sort of Men, reap Felicity from their Steadiness and Constancy. And for this reason, it has ever been impossible to persuade our Forefathers, but that the Victories obtained by dint of Force, and the hazard of War, were still more Honourable, than those performed in great Security, by Stratagem or Practice. 


Luc. lib. 9  Laetius est, quoties magno sibi constat honestum.   

A handsome Act more handsome does appear,  
By how much more it cost the doer dear.   Besides, this aught to be our comfort, that naturally, if the Pain be violent, 'tis but short, and if long, nothing violent. Si gravis, 
Cicero.  brevis: si longus, levis. Thou wilt not feel it long, if thou feelest it too much, it will either put an end to itself, or to thee; if thou canst not support it, it will export thee. Memineris maximos morte finiri; 
Cicero de fin.  parvos multa habere intervalla requietis: mediocrium nos esse dominos: ut si tolerabiles sint, feramus; sin minus, e vita, quum ea non placeat tanquam e theatro exeamus. Remember, that great ones are terminated by Death, that small, have long Intermissions of Repose, and that we are Masters of the moderate sort: so that, if tolerable, we may bear them, if not, we can go out of Life, as from a Theatre, where the Entertainment does not please us; that which makes us suffer Pain with so much Impatience, is the not being accustomed to repose our chiefest Contentment in the Soul, that we do not enough rely upon her who is the sole and sovereign Mistress of our Condition. The Body, saving in greater or less proportion, has but one and the same Bend and Bias; whereas the Soul is variable into all sorts of forms; and subjects to herself, and to her own Empire, all things whatsoever; both the Senses of the Body, and all other Accidents: and therefore it is, that we ought to study her, to inquire into her, and to rouse up all her powerful Faculties. There is neither Reason, Form, nor Prescription, that can any thing prevail against her Inclination and Choice; of so many Thousands of Biasses that she has at her disposal, let us give her one proper to our repose and conservation, and then we shall not only be sheltered and secured from all manner of Injury and Offence, but moreover gratified and obliged, if we will, with Evils and Offences. She makes her profit indifferently of all things. Error and Dreams serve her to good use, as a Loyal matter to Lodge us in Safety and Contentment. 'Tis plain enough to be seen, that 'tis the sharpness of our Conceit, that gives the Edge to our Pains and Pleasures. Beasts that have no such thing, leave to their Bodies their own free and natural Sentiments, and consequently, in every kind very near the same, as appears by the resembling Application of their Motions. If we would not disturb, in our Members, the Jurisdiction that appertains to them in this, 'tis to be believed, it would be the better for us, and that Nature has given them a just and moderate Temper, both to Pleasure and Pain; neither can it fail of being Just, being Equal, and Common. But seeing we have Enfranchised ourselves from these Rules, to give ourselves up to the rambling Liberty of our own Fancies, let us at least help to incline them to the most agreeable side. Plato fears our too vehemently engaging ourselves with Grief and Pleasure, forasmuch as these too much Knit and Ally the Soul to the Body: whereas I rather, quite contrary, by reason it too much separates and disunites them. As an Enemy is made more Fierce by our Flight, so Pain grows Proud to see us Truckle under it. She will surrender upon much better Terms to them who make Head against her: A Man must oppose, and stoutly set himself against it. In retiring and giving ground, we invite, and pull upon ourselves the Ruin that Threatens us. As the Body is more firm in an Encounter, the more stiffly and obstinately it applies itself to it; so is it with the Soul. But let us come to Examples, which are the proper Commodity for Fellows of such feeble Reins as myself; where we shall find, that it is with Pain, as with Stones, that receive a more sprightly, or a more languishing Lustre, according to the Foil they are set upon, and that it has no more room in us, than we are pleased to allow it. Tantum doluerunt, 
Aug. de Civit. Dei.  quantum doloribus se inserverunt. They Grieved so much the more, by how much they set themselves to Grieve. We are more sensible of one little touch of a Surgeons Lancet, than of Twenty Wounds with a Sword in the heat of Fight. The Pains of Childbearing, said by the Physician, and by God himself, to be very great, and which our Women keep so great a Clutter about, there are whole Nations that make nothing of it. To say nothing of the Lacedaemonian Women, what alteration can you see in our Swissers Wives of the Guard, saving, as they troth after their Husbands, you see them to Day with the Child hanging at their Backs, that they carried yesterday in their Bellies? And the counterfeit Gipsies we have amongst us, go themselves to Wash theirs so soon as they come into the World, in the first River they meet. Besides so many Whores as Daily steal their Children out of their Womb, as before they stole them in; that fair and noble Wife of Sabinus, a Patrician of Rome, for another's interest, alone, without help, without crying out, or so much as a Groan, endured the Bearing of Two Twins. A poor simple Boy of Lacedaemon having stole a Fox, (for they more fear the Shame of their Knavery in stealing, than we do the Punishment of our Knavery,) and having got him under his Coat, did rather endure the tearing out of his Bowels, than he would discover his Theft. And another Cursing at a Sacrifice, suffered himself to be Burnt to the Bone, by a Coal that fell into his Sleive, rather than disturb the Ceremony. And there have been a great Number, for a sole Trial of Virtue, following their instructions, who have at Seven Years old endured to be Whipped to Death, without changing their Countenance. And Cicero has seen them Fight in Parties, with Fists, Feet and Teeth, till they have fainted and sunk down, rather than confess themselves overcome. Custom would never Conquer Nature, for she is ever Invincible, but we have infected the Mind with Shadows, Delights, Wantonness, Negligence and Sloth; and with vain Opinions, and corrupt Manners, rendered it Effeminate and Mean. Every one knows the Story of Scevola, that being slipped into the Enemy's Camp to Kill their General, and having missed his Blow, to repair his fault, by a more strange Invention, and to deliver his Country, he boldly confessed to Porsenna, (who was the King he had a purpose to Kill,) not only his design, but moreover added, that there were then in his Camp a great Number of Romans, his Complices in the Enterprise, as good Men as he; and to show what a one he himself was, having caused a Pan of Burning Coals to be brought, he saw, and endured his Arm to Broil and Roast, till the King himself, conceiving Horror at the sight, commanded the Pan to be taken away. What would you say of him, that would not vouchsafe to respite his Reading in a Book, whilst he was under Incision? And of the other that persisted to Mock and Laugh, in Contempt of the Pains Inflicted upon him; so that the provoked Cruelty of the Executioners that had him in handling, and all the Inventions of Tortures redoubled upon him, one after another, spent in vain, gave him the Bucklers? But he was a Philosopher. What! a Fencer of Caesar's, Endured and Laughing all the while, his Wounds to be searched, Lanced and laid open. Quis mediocris gladiator ingenuit? 
Cicero Thus. l. 2.  Quis vultum mutavit unquam? Quis non modo stet it, verum etiam decubuit turbiter? Quis cum decubuisset, ferrum recipere jussus, collum contraxit? What mean Fencer ever so much as gave a Groan? Which of them ever so much as changed his Countenance? Which of them standing or falling, did either with Shame? Which of them, when he was down, and commanded to receive the Blow of the Sword, ever shrunk in his Neck? Let us bring in the Women too. Who has not heard at Paris of her that caused her Face to be fleyed, only for the fresher Complexion of a new Skin? There are who have drawn good and sound Teeth, to make their Voices more soft and sweet, or to place them in better Order. How many Examples of the Contempt of Pain have we in that Sex? What can they not do? What do they fear to do, for never so little hopes of an Addition to their Beauty? 


Tib. lib. 1. Eleg. 9  Vellere queis cura est albos a stirpe capillos,  
Et faciem dempta pelle referre novam.   

Who pluck their Grey Hairs by the Roots, and try  
An old Head, Face, with young Skin to supply.   I have seen some of them swallow Sand, Ashes, and do their utmost to destroy their Stomaches, to get Pale Complexions. To make a fine Spanish Body, what Wracks will they not endure of Tweaking and Bracing, till they have Notches in their Sides, cut into the very quick Flesh, and sometimes to Death? It is an ordinary thing with several Nations at this Day, to hurt themselves in good earnest, to gain credit to what they profess; of which, our King relates notable Examples of what he has seen in Poland, and done towards himself. But besides this, which I know to have been imitated by some in France, when I came from that famous Assembly of the Estates at Blois, I had a little before seen a Maid in Picardy, who to manifest the Ardour of her Promises, as also her Constancy, give herself, with a Bodkin she wore in her Hair, Four or Five good lusty Stabs into the Arm, till the Blood gushed out to some purpose. The Turks make themselves great Scars in Honour of their Mistresses, and to the end they may the longer remain, they presently clap Fire to the Wound, where they hold it an incredible time to stop the Blood, and form the Cicatrice; People that have been Eye-witnesses of it, have both Writ and Sworn it to me. But for Ten Asper's, there are there every day Fellows to be found, that will give themselves a good deep slash in the Arms or Thighs. I am willing, though to have the Testimonies nearest to us, when we have most need of them; for Christendom does furnish us with enough. And after the Example of our Blessed Guide, there have been many who would bear the Cross. We Learn by Testimony, very worthy of belief, that the King St. Lewis wore a Hair-shirt, till in his old Age his Confessor gave him a Dispensation to leave it off; and that every Friday he caused his Shoulders to be drubbed by his Priest with Six small Chains of Iron, which were always carried about amongst his Night Accoutrements for that purpose William our last Duke of Guienne, the Father of this Eleanor who has Transmitted this Duchy into the Houses of France and England, continually for Ten or Twelve Years before he Died, wore a Suit of Arms under a Religious Habit, by way of Penance. Fulke Count of Anjou, went as far as Jerusalem, there to cause himself to be Whipped by Two of his Servants, with a Rope about his Neck, before the Sepulchre of our Lord: But do we not moreover every Good Friday, in several places, see great number of Men and Women, Beat and Whip themselves till they Lacerate and Cut the Flesh to the very Bones? I have often seen this, and without Enchantment, when it was said, there were some amongst them, (for they go disguised,) who for Money undertook by this means to save harmless the Religion of others, by a contempt of Pain, so much the greater, as the Incentives of Devotion are more effectual, than those of Avarice. Q. Maximus Buried his Son, when he was a Consul; and M. Cato his, when Praetor Elect; and L. Paulus both his, within a few Days one after another, with such a Countenance as expressed no manner of Grief. I said once Merrily of a certain Person, that he had disappointed the Divine Justice; for the Violent Death of Three grown up Children of his, being one Day sent him, for a severe Scourge, as it is to be supposed, he was so far from being Afflicted at the Accident, that he rather took it for a particular Grace and Favour of Heaven. I do not follow these Monstrous Humours, though I lost Two or Three at Nurse, if not without Grief, at least, without Repining, and yet there is hardly any Accident, that pierces nearer to the quick. I see a great many other occasions of Sorrow, that should they happen to me, I should hardly feel; and have despised some when they have befallen me, to which the World have given so Terrible a Figure, that I should Blush to Boast of my Constancy. Ex quo intelligitur, non in Natura, sed in opinion esse aegritudinem. By which it is understood, 
Cicero.  that the Grief is not in Nature, but Opinion. Opinion is a Powerful Party, Bold, and without Measure. Who ever so greedily hunted after Security and Repose, as Alexander and Caesar did after Disturbances and Difficulties? Terez the Father of Sitalcez, was wont to say, that when he had no Wars, he fancied there was no difference betwixt him and his Groom. Cato the Consul, to secure some Cities of Spain from Revolt, only interdicting the Inhabitants from wearing Arms, a great many 〈◊〉 themselves: Ferox gens, nullam vitam 〈◊〉 sine armis esse. A Fierce People, who though there was no Life without Arms. How many do we know, who have forsake● the Calms and Sweetness of a Quiet Life at Home amongst their Acquaintance, t● seek out the Horror of Inhabitable D●●sarts; and having precipitated themselves into so Abject a Condition, as to become the Scorn and Contempt of the World have hug'd themselves with the Conceit even to Affectation. Cardinal Barromeu● who Died lately at Milan, in the midst of all the Jollity that the Air of Italy, 〈◊〉 Youth, Birth and great Riches invite● him to, kept himself in so Austere a way of Living, that the same Robe he wore 〈◊〉 Summer, served him for Winter too: 〈◊〉 only Straw for his Bed, and his Hours o● vacancy from the Affairs of his Employment, he continually spent in Study, upon his Knees, having a little Bread and a Glass of Water set by his Book, which wa● all the Provision of his Repast, and all the time he spent in Eating. I know some who consentingly have Acquired both Profit and Advancement from Cuckoldry, 〈◊〉 which the bare Name only affrights so many People. If the Sight be not the most necessary of all our Senses, 'tis at least, the most pleasant: But the most pleasant and most useful of all our Members, seem to ●e those of Generation, and yet a great many have conceived a Mortal Hatred against them, only for this, that they were 〈◊〉 Amiable, and have deprived themselves of them, only for their Value. As much thought he of his Eyes, that put them out. The generality, and more solid sort of Men, look upon abundance of Children as a great Blessing; I, and some others, think it as a great Benefit to be without them. And when you ask Thales, why he does not Marry, he tells you, because he has no mind to leave any Posterity behind him. That our Opinion gives the value to things, is very manifest in a great many of these which we do not so much regard to prise them, but ourselves; and never consider, either their Virtues, or their Use; but only how dear they cost us: As though that were a part of their substance: And we only repute for value in them, not what they bring to us, but what we add to them. By which I understand, that we are great managers of our Expense. As it weighs, it serves for so much as it weighs; our Opinion will never suffer it to want of its value. The Price gives valeve to the Diamond, Difficulty to Virtue, Suffering to Devotion, and Griping to Physic. A certain Person, to be Poor, threw his Crowns into the same Sea, to which so many came from all parts of the World to Fish and Rifle for Riches. Epicurus says, That to be Rich, is no Advantage, but only an alteration of Affairs. In plain truth, it is not Want, but rather Abundance, that Creates Avarice. Neither will I stick to deliver my own Experience concerning this Affair.  
I have since my Childhood Lived in Three sorts of Conditions; the First, which continued for some Twenty Years, I passed over without any other means, but what were Accidental, and depending upon the allowance and assistance of others, without Stint, or certain Revenue. I then spent my Money so much the more cheerfully, and with so much the less care how it went, as it wholly depended upon my over-confidence of Fortune; and never Lived more at my ease, I never had the repulse of finding the Purse of any of my Friends shut against me, having enjoined myself this Necessity above all other Necessity's whatever, by no means to fail of Payment at the appointed time, which also they have a Thousand times respited, seeing how careful I was to satisfy them; so that I practised at once a Thrifty, and withal, a kind of alluring Honesty. I naturally feel a kind of pleasure in Paying, as if I eased my Shoulders of a troublesome Weight, and in freeing myself from that Image of Slavery; as also, that I find a ravishing kind of satisfaction, in pleasing another by doing a Just Action. Those kind of payments excepted, where the trouble of reckoning and dodging are required, and in such cases, where I can meet with no Body to ease me of that hateful Torment, I avoid them, how scandalously and injuriously soever, all I possibly can, for fear of those little wrangling Disputes, for which, both my humour, and way of speaking, are so totally improper and unfit. There is nothing I hate so much, as driving on a Bargain; 'tis a mere Traffic of Cozenage and Impudence: where after an Hours cheapening and dodging, both Parties abandon their Word and Oath for Five Sols profit, or abatement. And yet I always borrowed at great disadvantage, for wanting the confidence to speak to the person myself, I committed my Request to the persuasion of a Ticket, which usually is no very successful Advocate, and is of very great advantage to him who has a mind to deny. I in those Days more jocundly and freely referred the Conduct of my Affairs to the Stars, than I have since done to my own Providence and Judgement. Most good Husbands look upon it is a horrible thing to Live always thus in incertainty, and are not aware, in the first place, that the greatest part of the World Live so. How many Worthy Men have wholly slighted and abandoned the certainty of their own Estates, and yet Daily do it, to trust to the inconstant Favour of Princes, and fickle Fortune? Caesar ran above a Million of Gold, more than he was worth, in Debt, to become Caesar. And how many Merchants have begun their Traffic by the Sale of their Farms, which they sent into the Indies. 
Cat. Epig. 4  Tot per impotentia freta? In so great a Siccity of Devotion, as we see in these Days, we have a Thousand and a Thousand Colleges, that pass it over commodiously enough, expecting every Day their Dinner from the Liberality of Heaven. Secondly, They do not take notice, that this Certitude upon which they so much rely, is not much less uncertain and hazardous, than Hazard itself. I see Misery as near beyond Two Thousand Crowns a Year, as if it stood close by me; for besides, that it is in the power of Chance to make a Hundred Breaches to Poverty, through the greatest strength of our Riches, (there being very often no Mean, betwixt the highest and the lowest Fortune.) 

Fortuna vitrea est: tum, quum splendent, 
Seu. Provide.  frangitur.   

Fortune is Glass, the brighter it doth shine,  
More frail, and soon broken, when most fine.   And to turn all our Barricado's and Bulworks Topsie Turvy; I find that by divers Causes, Indigence is as frequently seen to Inhabit with those who have Estates, as with those that have none; and peradventure, it is then far less Grievous, when alone, than when accompanied with Riches; which flow more from good Managery, than Income. 
Sen. Ep. 47.  Faber est suae qiusque Fortunae. Every one is the Hammerer of his own Fortune, and an uneasy, necessituos, busy Man, seems to me more Miserable, than he that is simply Poor. In divitiis in opes, quod genus egestatis gravissimum est. Poor in the midst of Riches, which is the most insupportable kind of Poverty. The greatest and most wealthy Princes, are by Poverty and Want driven to the most extreme Necessity: for can there be any more Extreme, than to become Tyrants, and unjust Usurpers, of their Subjects Goods and Estates?  
My Second Condition of Life was, to have Money of my own; wherein I so ordered the matter, that I had soon laid up a very notable Sum out of so mean a Fortune; considering with myself, that that only was to be reputed having, which a Man reserved from his ordinary Expense, and that a Man could not absolutely rely upon Revenue to receive, how clear soever his Estate might be. For what, said I, if I should be surprised by such or such an Accident? And after such like vain and vicious Imaginations, would very Learnedly, by this hoarding of Money, provide against all Inconveniences; and could moreover answer, such as objected to me, that the number of them was too infinite, that it I could not lay up for all, I could however do it at least for some, and for many. Yet was not this done without a great deal of Solicitude and Anxiety of Mind. I kept it very close, and though I dare talk so boldly of myself, never spoke of my Money, but falsely, as others do, who being Rich, pretend to be Poor, and being Poor, pretend to be Rich, dispensing with their Consciences for ever telling sincerely what they have. A ridiculous and shameful Prudence. Was I to go a Journey? methought I was never enough provided: and the more I loaded myself with Money, the more also was I loaded with Fear, one while of the danger of the Roads, another of the Fidelity of him who had the charge of my Sumpters, of whom, as some others that I know, I was never sufficiently Secure, if I had him not always in my Eye. If I chanced to leave the Key of my Cabinet behind me, what strange Jealousies, and Anxiety of Mind did I enter into? And which was worse, without daring to acquaint any Body with it. My Mind was eternally taken up with such things as these, so that all things considered, there is more trouble in keeping Money, than in getting it. And if I did not altogether so much as I say, or was not effectually so scandalously solicitous of my Money, as I have made myself; yet it cost me something at least to govern myself from being so, I reaped little or no advantage by what I had, and my Expenses seemed nothing less to me, for having the more to spend: For, as Bion said, The Hairy Men are as angry as the Balled to be pulled; and after you are once accustomed to it, and have once set your heart upon your heap, it is more more at your Service, you cannot find in your heart to break it: 'Tis a Building that you will fancy, must of necessity all tumble down to Ruin, if you stir but the least Pibble, Necessity must first take you by the Throat, before you can prevail upon yourself to touch it: And I would sooner have pawned any thing I had, or sold a House, and with much less constraint upon myself, than have made the least breach in that beloved Purse, I had so cunningly laid by. But the danger was, that a Man cannot easily prescribe certain limits to this desire, (for they are hard to find in things that a Man conceives to be good,) and to stint this good Husbandry so, that it may not degenerate into Avarice: Men still being intent upon adding to the heap, and increasing the stock, from Sum to Sum, till at last they vilely deprive themselves of the enjoyment of their own proper Goods, and throw all into reserve, without making any use of them at all. According to this Rule, they are the Richest People in the World, who are set to guard the Goals, and to defend the Walls of a Wealthy City. All Moneyed Men I conclude to be Covetous. Plato places Corporal or Humane Riches in this Order; Health, Beauty, Strength and Riches; and Riches, says he, is not blind, but very clear sighted, when illuminated by Prudence. Dionysius the Son, did a very handsome Act upon this subject. He was informed, that one of the Syracusans had hid a Treasure in the Earth, and thereupon sent to the Man to bring it to him, which he accordingly did, privately reserving a small part of it only to himself, with which he went to another City, where being cured of his Appetite of Hoarding, he began to Live at a more liberal Rate. Which Dionysius hearing, caused the rest of his Treasure to be restored to him, saying, that since he had learned how to use it, he very willingly returned it back unto him.  
I continued some years in this hoarding humour, when I know not what good Daemon fortunately put me out of it, as he did the Syracusan, and made me throw abroad all my reserve at random; the pleasure of a certain Voyage I took of very great expense, having made me spurn this fond Love of Money under foot, by which means I am now fallen into a third way of living, (I speak what I think of it) doubtless much more pleasant and moderate, which is, that I live at the height of my Revenue, sometimes the one, sometimes the other may perhaps exceed, but 'tis very little, and but rarely that they differ at all; I live from Hand to Mouth, and content myself in having sufficient for my present, and ordinary expense; for as to extraordinary occasions, all the laying up in the World would never suffice; and 'tis the greatest folly imaginable to expect, that fortune should ever sufficiently arm us against herself. 'Tis with our own arms that we are to fight her, accidental ones will betray us in the pinch of the business. If I lay up, 'tis for some near and designed expense, and not to purchase Lands, of which I have no need, but to purchase pleasure. Non esse cupidum, 
Cicero Parad. Ulti.  pecunia est: non esse emacem, vertigal est. Not to be Covetous, is Money, not to be a Purchaser, is a Tribute. I neither am in any great apprehension of wanting, nor in any desire of any more; Divinarum fructus est in copia; copiam declarat satietas. 
Ibid.  The fruits of Riches lies in abundance, satiety declares abundance. And I am very well pleased with myself, that this reformation in me, has fallen out in an age naturally inclined to avarice, and that I see myself cleared of a folly so common to Old Men, and the most ridiculous of all humane follies. Feraulez a Man that had run through both fortunes, and found that the increase of substance, was no increase of appetite, either to Eating, or Drinking, Sleeping, or the enjoyment of his Wife, and who on the other side, felt the care of his Oeconomy lie heavy upon his Shoulders, as it does on mine; was resolved to please a poor Young Man his faithful friend, who panted after Riches, by making him a gift of all his, which was excessively great, and moreover of all he was in the daily way of getting by the liberality of Cyrus, his good master, and and by the War; conditionally that he should take care handsomely to maintain, and plentifully to entertain him, as his Host, and his Friend; which being accordingly embract, and performed, they afterwards lived very happily together, both of them equally content with the change of their condition. An example that I could imitate with all my heart. And very much approve the fortune of an ancient Prelate, whom I see to have so absolutely stripped himself of his Purse, his Revenue, and Care; of his Expense; committing them one while to one trusty Servant, and another while to another, that he has spun out a long succession of years, as ignorant by this means of his Domestic affairs, as a mere stranger. The confidence of another Man's virtue, is no light evidence of a Man's own; besides, God is pleased to favour such a confidence, as to what concerns him of whom I am speaking, I see no where a better governed Family, nor a House more nobly, and constantly maintained than his, happy in this to have stated his affairs to so just a proportion, that his Estate is sufficient to do it without his care, or trouble, and without any hindrance, either in the spending, or laying it up; to his other more decent, and quiet employments, and that are more suitable both to his place, and liking. Plenty then and indigence depend upon the opinion every one has of them; and Riches no more than Glory, or Health, have no more either Beauty, or Pleasure, than he is pleased to lend them, by whom they are possessed. Every one is well, or ill at ease, according as he finds himself: Not he whom the World believes, but he who believes himself to be so is content; and in him alone belief gives itself being, and reality. Fortune does us neither good, nor hurt; she only presents us the matter, and the seed, which our soul, more powerful than she, turns and applieth as she best pleases; being the sole cause, and Sovereign Mistress of her own happy, or unhappy condition. All external accessions receive taste and Colour, from the internal constitution, as clothes warm us, not with their Heat, but our own, which they are fit to cover and keep in; and who would cover a cold body, would do the same service for the cold, for so Snow and Ice are preserved. And after the same manner that Study is a torment to a truant, abstinence from Wine to a good fellow, frugality to the Spendthrift, and exercise to a Lazy tender bred fellow; so it is of all the rest. The things are not so painful, and difficult of themselves, but our weakness or cowardice makes them so. To judge of great, and high matters, requires a suitable soul, otherwise we attribute the vice to them, which is really our own. A strait Oar seems crooked in the Water: It does not only import that we see the thing, but how, and after what manner we see it. But after all this, why amongst so many discourses, that by so many arguments persuade Men to despise death, and to endure pain, can we not find out one that makes for us? And of so many sorts of imaginations as have so prevailed upon others, as to persuade them to do so, why does not every one apply some one to himself, the most suitable to his own humour? If he cannot away with a strong working Aposence to eradicate the Evil, let him at least take a Lenitive to ease it. Opinio est quedam effeminata, ac levis: 
Cicero. Thus. lib. 2.  nec in dolore magis, quam eadem in voluptate: qua quum liquessimus fluimusque mollitia, apis aculeum sine clamore ferre non possumus. Totum in eo est, ut tibi imperes. There is a certain light, and effeminate opinion, and that not more in pain, than it is even in pleasure itself; by which, whilst we rest and Wallow in ease, and wantonness, we cannot endure so much as the stinging of a Bee, without roaring. All that lies in it is only this, to command thyself: As to the rest, a Man does not transgress Philosophy, by permitting the acrimony of pains, and humane frailty to prevail so much above measure; for they will at last be reduced to these invincible replies. If it be ill to live in necessity, at least there is no necessity upon a man to live in necessity. No man continues ill long but by his own fault. And who has neither the Courage to Die; nor the Heart to Live: who will neither resist nor fly, what should a Man do to him.   

CHAP. XLI. Not to Communicate a Man's Honour.  
OF all the follies of the World, that which is most universally received, is the solicitude of Reputation and Glory; which we are fond of to that degree, as to abandon Riches, Peace, Life, and Health, which are effectual, and substantial goods, to pursue this vain Phantom, and empty word, that has neither body; nor hold to be taken of it. 
Tasso. Can●● 10.  

La fama ch' invaghisce a un dolce suono  
Gli superbi mortali, et par' si bella  
Eun echo, un Sogno, anzi d'un Sogno un' ombra  
Ch' ad ogni vento si dilegua, & sgombra.   

Honour, that with such an alluring sound,  
Proud mortals charms, and does appear so fair,  
An Echo, Dream, shade of a Dream is found,  
Dispersed abroad by every breath of air.   And of all the irrational humours of Men, it should seem that even the Philosophers themselves have the most ado, and do the latest disengage themselves from this, as the most resty and obstinate of all humane follies. Quia etiam bene proficientes animos tentare non tessat. 
Aug. de Civet. Dei.  Because it ceases not to attaque even the wisest, and best lettered minds. There is not any one vice, of which reason does so clearly accuse the vanity, as of that; but it is so deeply rooted in us, that I dare not determine, whether any one ever clearly depestred himself from it or no. After you have said all, and believed all has been said to its prejudice, it creates so intestine inclination in opposition to your best arguments, that you have little power, and constancy to resist it: for (as Cicero says) even those who most controvert it, would yet that the Books they write should visit the light under their own names, and seek to derive glory from seeming to despise it. All other things are communicable, and fall into commerce; we lend our goods, and stake our Lives for the necessity, and service of our friends; but to communicate a man's Honour, and and to robe another with a man's own Glory, is very rarely seen. And yet we have some examples of that kind. Catulus Luctatius in the Cymbrian War, having done all that in him lay to make his flying Soldiers face about upon the Enemy, ran himself at last away with the rest, and counterfeited the Coward, to the end his men might rather seem to follow their Captain, than to fly from the Enemy; which was to abandon his own reputation, to palliate the shame of others. When Charles the Fifth came into Provence in the year 1537. 'tis said, that Antonio de Leva seeing the Emperor positively resolved upon this expedition, and believing it would redound very much to his honour, did nevertheless very stiffly oppose it in the Council, to the end that the entire glory of that resolution should be attributed to his Master; and that it might be said, his own Wisdom and foresight had been such, as that, contrary to the opinion of all, he had brought about so great, and so generous an enterprise; which was to do him honour at his own expense. The Thracian Ambassadors, coming to comfort Archileonida the Mother of Brasidas upon the death of her Son, and commending him to that height, as to say he had not left his like behind him; she rejected this private, and particular commendation to attribute it to the public: Tell me not that (said she) I know the City of Sparta has several Citizens both greater, and of greater valour than he. In the Battle of Cressy, the Prince of Wales, being then very young, had the Vanguard committed to him, and the main stress of the Battle happened to be in that place, which made the Lords that were with him, finding themselves overmatcht, to send to King Edward, that he would please to advance to their relief; who thereupon enquiring of the condition his Son was in, and being answered, that he was yet living, and on Horseback: I should then do him wrong (said the King) now to go, and deprive him of the honour of winning this Battle he has so long, and so bravely disputed, what hazard soever he runs, it shall be entirely his own: and accordingly would neither go nor send, knowing that if he went, it would be said all had been lost without his succour, and that the honour of the Victory would be wholly attributed to him. Semper enim quod postremum adjectum est, id rem totam videtur traxisse. For the last stroke to a business seems to draw along with it the performance of the whole action. Many at Rome thought, and would usually say, that the greatest of Scipio's Acts, were in part due to Lelius, whose constant practice it was still to advance, and Shoulder Scipio's Grandeur and Renown, without any care of his own. And Theopompus King of Sparta to him who told him the republic could not miscarry since he knew so well how to command, 'Tis rather (answered he) because the people know so well how to obey. As Women succeeding to Peerages, had notwithstanding their sex the privilege to assist, and give in their Votes in the Causes that appertained to the jurisdiction of Peers: So the Ecclesiastical Peers notwithstanding their profession, were obliged to assist our Kings in their Wars, not only with their friends and servants, but in their own persons. As the Bishop of Beauvais did, who being with Philip Augustus at the Battle of Bouvines, had a notable share in that action; but he did not think it fit for him to participate in the Fruit and Glory of that violent and Bloody Trade. He with his own Hand reduced several of the Enemy that day to his mercy, whom he delivered to the first Gentleman he met either to kill or receive them to Quarter, referring the execution to another hand. As also did William Earl of Salisbury to Messire Jean de Nesle, with a like subtlety of conscience to the other we named before, he would Kill, but not wound him, and for that reason ever fought with a Mace. And a certain person of my time, being reproached by the King, that he had laid hands on a Priest, stiffly and positively denied he had done any such thing: the meaning of which was, he had cudgelled and kicked him.   

CHAP. XLII. Of the Inequality amongst us.  
PLutarch says somewhere, that he does not find so great a difference betwixt Beast and Beast, as he does betwixt Man and Man. Which is said in reference to the internal Qualities and Perfections of the Soul. And, in truth, I find, (according to my poor Judgement,) so vast a distance betwixt Epaminondas, and some that I know, (who are yet Men of common sense,) that I could willingly enhance upon Plutarch, and say, that there is more difference betwixt such and such a Man, than there is betwixt such a Man and such a Beast: 

Hem vir viro quid praestat! 
Terenee Phor. Act. 5 S●e. 3.    

— How much alas,  
One Man another doth surpass!   And that there are as many and innumerable degrees of Wits, as there are Cubits betwixt this and Heaven. But as touching the Estimate of Men, 'tis strange, that, ourselves excepted, no other Creature is esteemed beyond its proper Qualities, we commend a Horse for his Strength, and sureness of Foot, 


Juvenal Sat. 8. — Volucrem.  
Sic laudamus equum, facili cui plurima palma  
Fervet, & exultat rauco victoria circo.   

So we commend the Horse for being fleet,  
Who many Palms by Breath and Speed does get,  
And which the Trumpets in the Circle grace,  
With their hoarse Levets for his well run Race.   and not for his Rich Caparisons; a Greyhound for his share of Heels, not for his fine Collar; a Hawk for her Wing, not for her Gests and Bells. Why, in like manner, do we not value a Man for what is properly his own? He has a great Train, a beautiful Palace, so much Credit, so many Thousand Pounds a Year, and all these are about him, but not in him. You will not buy a Pig in a Poke: if you cheapen a Horse, you will see him stripped of his Housing-cloaths, you will see him naked and open to your Eye; or if he be Clothed, as they anciently were wont to present them to Princes to Sell, 'tis only on the less important parts, that you may not so much consider the beaty of his Colour, or the breadth of his Crupper, as principally to examine his Limbs, Eyes and Feet, which are the Members of greatest use: 

Regibus hic mos est, ubi equos mercantur, 
Horace lib. 1. Sat. 2.  opertos  
Juspiciunt, ne si facies, ut saepe, decora  
Molli fulta pede est, emptorem inducat hiantem.  
Quod pulchrae clunes, breve quod caput, ardua cervix.   

When Kings Steeds Clothed, as 'tis their manner, Buy,  
They strait examine very Curiously,  
Lest a short Head, a thin and well raised Crest,  
A broad spread Buttock, and an ample Chest,  
Should all be propped with an old beaten Hoof,  
To gull the Buyer, when they come to proof.   Why, in giving your Estimate of a Man, do you Prise him wrapped and muffled up in clothes? He than discovers nothing to you, but such parts as are not in the least his own; and conceals those, by which alone one may rightly judge of his Value. 'Tis the price of the Blade, that you inquire into, and not of the Scabbard: You would not peradventure bid a Farthing for him, if you saw him stripped. You are to judge him by himself, and not by what he wears. And as one of the Ancients very pleasantly said, do you know why you repute him Tall? You reckon withal the height of his Chepines, whereas the Pedestal is no part of the Statue. Measure him him without his Stilts, let him lay aside his Revenues, and his Titles, let him present himself in his Shirt, then examine if his Body be sound and sprightly, active and disposed to perform its Functions? What Soul has he? Is it Beautiful, capable, and happily provided of all her Faculties? Is she Rich of what is her own, or of what she has Borrowed? Has Fortune no hand in the Affair? Can she, without winking, stand the lightning of Swords; is she indifferent, whether her Life expire by the Mouth, or through the Throat? Is she Settled, Even and Content? This is what is to be examined, and by that you are to judge of the vast differences betwixt Man, and Man. Is he 


Ed. lib. 2. Sat. 7. — Sapiens, sibique imperiosus  
Quem neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vincula terrent,  
Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores  
Fortis, & in seipso totus teres atque rotundus,  
Externi ne quid valeat per laeve morari,  
In quem manta ruit semper fortuna?   

Wife, and commanding o'er his Appetite,  
One whom, nor Want, nor Death, nor Bonds, can Fright,  
To check his Lusts, and Honour's scorn, so stout,  
And in himself so round and clear throughout,  
That no External thing can stop his course,  
And on whom Fortune vainly tries her force.   such a Man is raised Five Hundred Fathoms above Kingdoms and Dutchies, he is an Absolute Monarch in and to himself. 

Sapens Pol ipse fingit fortunam sibi. 
Plaut Tri. Act. 2. Sce. 2.    

The Wise Man his own Fortune makes.   What remains for him to Covet, or Desire. 

— Nun videmus  
Nil aliud sibi naturam latrare, 
Luere. lib. 2.  nisi ut quoi  
Corpore sejunctus dolor absit, ment fruatur,  
Jucundo sensu cura, semotus metuque?   

We see that Nature to no more aspires;  
Nor to herself a greater good requires,  
Than that, whose Body is from Dolours free,  
He should his Mind with more Serenity,  
And a more pleasing Sense enjoy, quite clear  
From those two grand Disturbers, Grief and Fear.   Compare with such a one the common Rabble of Mankind, stupid and mean Spirited, Servile, Instable, and continually floating with the Tempest of various Passions, that tosses and tumbles them to and fro, and all depending upon others, and you will find a greater distance, than betwixt Heaven and Earth; and yet the blindness of common usage is such, that we make little or no account of it. Whereas, if we consider a Peasant, and a King, a Nobleman, and a Villain, a Magistrate, and a private Man, a Rich Man, and a Poor, there appears a vast disparity, though they differ no more, (as a Man may say,) than in their Breeches. In Thrace, the King was distinguished from his People, after a very pleasant manner; He had a Religion by himself, a God of his own, and which his Subjects were not to presume to Adore, which was Mercury, whilst, on the other side, he disdained to have any thing to do with theirs, Mars, Bacchus and Diana. And yet they are no other than Pictures, that make no Essential Dissimilitude; for as you see Actors in a Play, representing the person of a Duke, or an Emperor, upon the Stage, and immediately after, in the Tiring Room, return to their true and original Condition; so the Emperor, whose Pomp and Lustre, does so dazzle you in Public, 

Scilicet, 
Lucre. lib. 4.  & grandes viridi cum luce smaragdi  
Auro includuntur, teriturque Thalassina vestis  
Assidue, & veneris sudorem exercita petat.   

Great Emeralds richly are in Gold enchased,  
To dart Green Lustre, and the Sea-greenvest  
Continually is worn and rubbed to Frets,  
Whilst it Imbibes the Juice that Venus Sweats.   do but peep behind the Curtain, and you'll see nothing more than an ordinary Man, and peradventure, more Contemptible than the meanest of his Subjects. Ille beatus introrsum est, 
Senec. Ep. 115.  istius bracteata felicitas est. True Happiness lies within, the other is but a counterfeit Felicity. Cowardice, Irresolution, Ambition, Spite and Envy, are as Predominant in him, as in another. 

Non enim gazae, 
Horace lib. 2. Ode. 16.  neque consularis  
Summovet lictor, miseros tumultus  
Mentis, & curas laqueata circum  
Tecta volentes.   

For neither Wealth, Honours, nor Offices,  
Can the wild Tumults of the Mind appease,  
Nor chase those Cares, that with unwearied Wings  
Hover about the Palaces of Kings.   Nay, Solitude and Fear, attack him even in the Centre of his Battalions. 


Lucre. lib. 2.  Re veraque metus hominum, curaeque sequaces,  
Nec metuunt sonitus armorum, nec fera tela,  
Audacterque inter Reges, rerumque potentes  
Versantur, neque fulgorem reverentur ab auro.   

For Fears and Cares warring with Humane Hearts,  
Fear not the clash of Arms, nor points of Darts;  
But with great Kings and Potentates makes Bold,  
Maugre their Purple, and their Glittering Gold.   Do Fevers, Gouts and Apoplexies, spare them any more, than one of us? When Old Age hangs heavy upon a Prince's Shoulders, can the Yeomen of his Guard ease him of the Burden? When he is Astonished with the apprehension of Death, can the Gentlemen of his Bedchamber comfort and assure him? When Jealousy, or any other Caprichio swims in his Brain, can our Compliments and Ceremonies restore him to his good Humour? The Canopy Embroidered with Pearl and Gold, he lies under, has no Virtue against a violent fit of the Stone or Colic. 

Nec calidae citius decedunt corpore febres 
Idem.   
Textilibus si in picturis, estroque rubenti  
Jacteris, quam si plebeia in veste cubandum est.   

Nor sooner will a Calenture depart,  
Although in figured Tissues lodged thou art,  
Than if thy homely Couch were meanly spread  
With poorest Blankets of the coursest thread.   The Flatterers of Alexander the Great, possessed him, that he was the Son of Jupiter: But being one Day Wounded, and observing the Blood stream from his Wound: What say you now, (my Masters,) said he, is not this Blood of a Crimson Colour, and purely Humane? This is not of the Complexion with that which Homer makes to issue from the Wounded Gods. The Poet Hermedorus had Writ a Poem in Honour of Antigonus, wherein he called him the Son of the Sun: But who has the emptying of my Close-stool, (said Antigonus) will find to the contrary. He is but a Man at best, and if he be Deformed, or ill Qualified from his Birth, the Empire of the Universe, can neither mend his Shape, nor his Nature; 


Perseus. Sat. 2. — Puellae  
Hunc rapiant, quidquid culcaverit hic, rosa fiat.   

Though Maids should Ravish him, and where he goes,  
In every step he takes, should spring a Rose.   what of all that, if he be a Fool and a Sot! even Pleasure and good Fortune, are not relished without Vigour and Understanding. 


Ter. Heart. Act. 1. Sce.  Haec perinde sunt, ut illius animus qui ed possidet,  
Qui uti scit, ei bona, illi, qui non utitur recte mala.   

Things to the Souls of their Possessors square,  
Goods if well used, if ill, they Evils are.   Whatever the Benefits of Fortune are, they yet require a palate fit to relish and taste them: 'Tis Fruition, and not possession, that renders us Happy. 


Horace lib. 1. Epist. 2.  Non domus, & fundus, non aeris acervus & auri,  
Aegroto domini deduxit corpore febres,  
Non animo curas, valeat possessor oportet,  
Qui comportatis rebus bene cogitat uti,  
Qui cupit, aut metuit, juvat illum sit domus aut res,  
Vt lippum pictae Tabulae, fomenta podacram.   

Manners, or heaps of Brass and Gold, afford  
No ease at all to their Febritick Lord;  
Nor can they cure his Cares; 'tis requisite  
The Good's Possessor know the use of it.  
Who Fears or Covets, these so help him out,  
As Pictures Blind Folks, Cataplasms the Gout.   He is a Sot, his Taste is palled and flat; he no more enjoys what he has, than one that has a Cold, relishes the flavour of Canary; or than a Horse is sensible of his Rich Caparison. Plato is in the right, when he tells us, that Health, Beauty, Vigour and Riches, and all the other things called Goods, are equally Evil to the Unjust, as Good to the Just, and the Evil on the contrary the same. And therefore, where either the Body or the Mind, are in disorder, to what use serve these external Conveniences? Considering, that the least prick with a Pin, or the least Passion of the Soul, is sufficient to deprive us of the pleasure of being sole Monarch of the World. At the first twitch of the Gout, it signifies much to be called Sir, and your Majesty; 


Hor. lib. 1. El. 2.  Totus, & argento conflatus, totus, & auro.   

Although his Chests are crammed, whilst they will hold,  
With immense Sums of Silver Coin and Gold.   does he not forget his Palaces and Grandeurs? If he be Angry, can his being a Prince, keep him from looking Red, and looking Pale, and grinding his Teeth, like a Madman? Now if he be a Man of parts, and well descended, Royalty adds very little to his Happiness: 


Hor. lib. 1. Ep. 12.  Si ventri bene, si lateri est pedibusque tuis, nil  
Divitiae poterant regales addere majus.   

If thou art right and sound from Head to Foot,  
A King's Revenue can add nothing to't.   He discerns, 'tis nothing but Counterfeit and Gullery. Nay perhaps, he would be of King Seleucus opinion, That who knew the weight of a Sceptre, would not deign to stoop to take it up; which he said, in reference to the great and painful Duty incumbent upon a good King. Doubtless it can be no easy task to Rule others, when we find it so hard a matter to Govern ourselves. And as to the thing Dominion, that seems so sweet and charming, the frailty of Humane Wisdom, and the difficulty of choice in things that are new and doubtful, to us considered, I am very much of opinion, that it is much more pleasant to follow, than to lead; and that it is a great settlement and satisfaction of Mind, to have only one Path to walk in, and to have none to answer for, but a Man's self; 

Vt satius multo jam sit, parere quietum. 
Lucret. lib. 5.   
Quam regere imperio res velle.   

So that 'tis better Calmly to Obey,  
Than in the Storms of State to Rule and Sway.   To which we may add that saying of Cyrus, That no Man was fit to Rule, but he who in his own Worth was of greater Value, than all those he was to Govern: But King Hiero in Xenophon, says further, That in the Fruition even of Pleasure itself, they are in a worse condition, than private Men; forasmuch as the opportunities and facility they have of commanding those things at Will, takes off from the Delight. 

Pinguis amor, nimiumque potens, 
Ovid. Am●● l. 2. Ele. 19  in taedia nobis  
Vertitur, & Stomacho dulcis ut esca necet.   

Too Potent Love, in Loathing never ends,  
As highest Sauce the Stomach most offends.   Can we think, that the Singing-Boys of the Choir, take any great delight in their own Music? The Satiety does rather render it troublesome and tedious to them. Feasts, Balls, Masquerades and Tilt, delight such as but rarely see, and desire to be at such Solemnities: But having been frequent at such Entertainments, the relish of them grows flat and insipid: Nay, Women (the greatest Temptation) do not so much delight those who make a common practice of the sport. He who will not give himself leisure to be Thirsty, can never find the true pleasure of Drinking. Farces and Tumbling Tricks, are pleasant to the Spectators, but a pain to those by whom they are performed. And that this is effectually so, we see that Princes divert themselves sometimes in disguising their Quality, a while to depose themselves, and to stoop to the poor and ordinary way of Living of the meanest of their People. 


Hor. ear. lib. 3. Ode 29.  Plerumque gratae Principibus vires,  
Mundaeque parvo sublare pauperum  
Coenae sine aulaeis, & ostro,  
Solicitum explicuere frontem.   

Even Princes with Variety tempted are,  
Which makes them oft feed on clean homely Fare,  
In a poor Hut, laying aside the State,  
Purple and Pomp, which should on Grandeur wait,  
In such a Solitude to smooth the Frown  
Forced by the weighty Pressure of a Crown.   Nothing is so distasteful and disappointing, as Abundance. What Appetite would not be baffled, to see Three Hundred Women at his Mercy, as the Grand Seigneor has in his Seraglio? And What Fruition of Pleasure, or Taste of Recreation, did he of his Ancestors reserve to himself, who never went a Hawking without Seven Thousand Falconers? And besides all this, I Fancy that this Lustre of Grandeur brings with it no little disturbance and uneasiness upon the Enjoyment of the most tempting pleasures, they are too conspicuous, and lie too open to every one's view. Neither do I know to what end a man should any more require them to conceal their Errors, since what is only reputed indiscretion in us, they know very well the people in them brand with the names of Tyranny, and contempt of the Laws; and besides their proclivity to Vice, are apt to censure, that it is a heightening to pleasure to them, to Insult over the Laws, and to trample upon Public Ordinances. Plato indeed, in his Gorgeas defines, a Tyrant to be one, who in a City has Licence to do whatever his own Will leads him to. And by reason of this Impunity, the Overtacting and Publication of their Vices, does ofttimes more Mischief, than the Vice itself. Every one fears to be pried into, and discovered in their Evil Courses; but Princes are, even to their very Gestures, Looks and Thoughts, the People conceiving they have right and title to Censure, and be Judges of them: Besides, that the Blemishes of the Great, naturally appear greater, by reason of the Eminency and Lustre of the place where they are seated; and that a Mole or a Wart appears greater in them, than the greatest Deformity in others. And this is the reason why the Poets feign the Amours of Jupiter to be performed in the disguises of so many borrowed shapes, that amongst the many Amorous Practices they lay to his charge, there is only one, as I remember, where he appears in his own Majesty and Grandeur. But let us return to Hiero, who complains of the Inconveniences he found in his Royalty, in that he could not look abroad, and Travel the World at liberty, being as it were a Prisoner to the Bounds and Limits of his own Dominion: And that in all his Actions, he was evermore surrounded with an importunate Crowd. And in truth, to see our Kings set all alone at Table, environed with so many People prating about them, and so many strangers staring upon them, as they always are, I have often been moved, rather to pity, than to envy, their condition. King Alphonsus was wont to say, that in this, Asses were in a better condition than Kings, their Masters permitting them to feed at their own ease and pleasure; a favour that Kings cannot obtain of their Servants. And it would never sink into my fancy, that it could be of any great benefit to the Life of a Man of Sense, to have Twenty People prating about him, when he is at Stool; or that the Services of a Man of Ten Thousand Livers a Year, or that has taken Casal, or defended Sienna, should be either more commodious, or more acceptable to him, than those of a good Groom of the Chamber, that understands his place. The Advantages of Sovereignty, are but Imaginary upon the matter: Every degree of Fortune has in it some Image of Principality. Caesar calls all the Lords of France, having Free-Franchise within their own Demeans, Roylets; and in truth, the Name of Sire excepted, they go pretty far towards Kingship; for do but look into the Provinces remote from Court, as Britain for example, take notice of the Attendance, the Vassals, the Officers, the Employments, Service, Ceremony and State, of a Lord that Lives retired from Court, is constant to his own House, and that has been bred up amongst his own Tenants and Servants; and observe withal, the flight of his Imagination, there is nothing more Royal: He hears talk of his Master once a Year, as of a King of Persia, or Peru, without taking any further notice of him, than some remote Kindred, his Secretary keeps in some Musty Record. And, to speak the truth, our Laws are easy enough, so easy, that a Gentleman of France scarce feels the weight of Sovereignty pinch his Shoulders above Twice in his Life. Real and effectual Subjection, only concerns such amongst us, as voluntarily thrust their Necks under the Yoke, and who design to get Wealth and Honours by such Services: For a Man that loves his own Fireside, and can Govern his House, without falling by the Ears with his Neighbours, or engaging in Suits of Law, is as free, as a Duke of Venice. Paucos servitus, plures servitutem tenent. Servitude seizes of few, but many seize of her. But that which Hiero is most concerned at, is, that he finds himself stripped of all Friendship, and deprived of all Natural Society, wherein the true and most perfect Fruition of Humane Life does consist. For what Testimony of affection and good will, can I extract from him, that owes me, whether he will or no, all that he is able to do? Can I form any assurance of his real Respect to me, from his humble way of speaking, and submissive Behaviour, when they are Ceremonies, it is not in his Choice to deny? The Honour we receive from those that Fear us, is not Honour, those Respects are paid to my Royalty, and not to me. 

Maximum hoc Regni bonum est, 
Seneca Thyestes. Act. 2. Scae. 1.   
Quod facta domini cogitur populus sui  
Quam far, tam Laudare.   

'Tis the great Benefit of Kings, that they  
Who are by Law Subjected to their Sway,  
Are Bound, in all their Princes say or do,  
Not only to Submit, but Praise it too.   Do I not see, that the Wicked, and the good King, he that is hated, and he that is beloved, has the one as much Reverence paid him, as the other? My Predecessor was, and my Successor shall be, served with the same Ceremony and State. If my Subjects do me no harm, 'tis no Evidence of any good Affection; why should I look upon it as such, seeing it is not in their Power if they would? No one follows me, or Obeys my Commands, upon the account of any Friendship betwixt him and me; there can be no contracting of Friendship, where there is so little relation and correspondence: My own Height has put me out of the Familiarity of, and Intelligence with men: There is too great disparity and disproportion betwixt us; they follow me either upon the account of decency, and custom; or rather my fortune, than me, to increase their own: All they say to me, or do for me, is forced and dissembled, their liberty being on all parts restrained by the great power and authority I have over them. I see nothing about me but what is dissembled, and disguised. The Emperor Julian being one day applauded for his exact Justice: I should be proud of these praises, said he, did they come from persons that durst condemn, or disapprove the contrary, in case I should do it. All the real advantages of Princes are common to them with Men of meaner condition: 'Tis for the Gods to Mount winged Horses, and feed upon Ambrosia: Earthly Kings have no other Sleep, nor other Appetite, than we; the Steel they Arm themselves withal, is of no better temper, than that we also use; their Crowns do neither defend them from the Rain, nor Sun. Dioclesian who wore a Crown so Fortunate and Revered, resigned it, to retire himself to the Felicity of a private Life: And some time after the necessity of Public Affairs, requiring, that he should reassume his Charge, he made Answer to those who came to Court him to it, You would not offer, (said he) to persuade me to this, had you seen the fine Order of Trees I have Planted in my Orchard, and the fair Melows I have Sowed in my Garden. In Anacharsis his Opinion, the happiest Estate of Government would be, where all other things being equal, Precedency should be measured out by the Virtues, and Repulses by the Vices of Men. When King Pyrrhus prepared for his Expedition into Italy, his Wise Counsellor Cyneas, to make him sensible of the Vanity of his Ambition; Well Sir, (said he,) to what End do you make all this Mighty Preparation? To make myself Master of Italy, (replied the King). And what after that is done, (said Cyneas?) I will pass over into Gaul and Spain, said the other. And what then? I will then go to Subdue Africa; and lastly, when I have brought the whole World to my Subjection, I will sit down and rest Content at my own Ease. For God sake, Sir, (replied Cyneas,) tell me what hinders, that you may not, if you please, be now in the condition you speak of? Why do you not now at this instant, settle yourself in the State you seem to aim at, and spare the Labour and Hazard you interpose?  


Lucret. l. 5.  Nimirum quia non bene norat quae esset habendi  
Finis & omnino quoad crescat vera voluptas.   

The end of being Rich he did not know;  
Nor to what pitch Felicity should grow.   

I will conclude with an old Versickle, that  
I think very pat to the purpose.   


Corn. Nep. in vit. A. Hici.  Moors cuique sui fingunt fortunam.   

Himself, not Fortune, every one must blame,  
Since Men's own Manners do their Fortune's frame.    

CHAP. XLIII. Of Sumptuary Laws.  
THE way by which our Laws attempt to regulate idle and vain expenses in Meat and Clothes, seems to be quite contrary to the end designed. The true way would be to beget in men a contempt of Silks and Gold, as vain, frivolous, and useless; whereas we augment to them the Honours, and enhance the value of such things, which sure is a very improper way to create a disgust. For to enact, that none but Princes shall eat Turbet, shall wear Velvet, or Goldlace, and interdict these things to the people, what is it but to bring them into a greater esteem, and to set every one more a gog to eat, and wear them? Let Kings (a God's name) leave off these Ensigns of Grandeur, they have others enough besides; those excesses are more excusable in any other, than a Prince. We may learn by the Example of several Nations, better ways of exterior distinction of quality (which truly I conceive to be very requisite in a State) enough, without fostering up this corruption, and manifest inconvenience to this effect. 'Tis strange how suddenly, and with how much ease custom in these indifferent things establishes itself, and becomes authority. We had scarce worn Cloth a year (in compliance with the Court) for the Mourning of Henry the Second, but that Silks were already grown into such contempt with every one, that a man so clad, was presently Concluded a Citizen. The Silks were divided betwixt the Physicians, and Surgeons, and though all other people almost went in the same habit, there was notwithstanding in one thing or other, sufficient distinction of the calling, and conditions of men. How suddenly do greasy Chamois Doublets become the fashion in our Armies, whilst all neatness and riches of habit fall into contempt? Let Kings but lead the dance, and begin to leave off this expense, and in a Month the business will be done throughout the Kingdom, without an Edict; we shall all follow. It should be rather proclaimed on the contrary, that no one should wear Scarlet, or Goldsmith's work, but Whores and Tumblers. Zeleucus with the like invention reclaimed the corrupted manners of the Locrians. Whose Laws were, that no free woman should be allowed any more than one Maid to follow her unless she was drunk: nor was to stir out of the City by night, wear Jewels of Gold about her, or go in an Embroidered Robe, unless she was a professed and public Whore: The Bravoes, and Ruffians excepted, no man was to wear a Gold Ring, nor be seen in one of those effeminate Vests woven in the City of Miletum. By which infamous exceptions, he discreetly diverted his Citizens, from Superfluities, and pernicious pleasures, and it was a project of grean Utility to attract men by honour, and Ambition to their Duty and Obedience. Our Kings may do what they please in such external Reformations, their own inclinations stands in this case for a Law, Quicquid Principes faciunt, 
Quinct. Decla. 4.  precipere videnter. What Princes themselves do, they seem to enjoin others. Whatever is done at Court passes for a rule through the rest of France. Let the Courtiers but fall out with these abominable Breeches, that discover so much of those parts should be concealed: These great Bellied Doublets, that make us look like I know not what; and are so unfit to admit of Arms; these long effeminate Locks of Hair: This foolish Custom of Kissing, what we present to our equals and our Hands in saluting them; a ceremony in former times only due to Princes: And that a Gentleman shall appear in place of respect without his Sword, unbuttoned and untrust, as though he came from the House of Office; and that contrary to the custom of our Forefathers, and the particular privilege of the Nobless of this Kingdom, we shall stand a long time bare to them in what place soever, and the same to a hundred others, so many Tierces and Quarts of Kings we have got now a days, and also other the like innovations, and degenerate customs; they will see them all presently Vanished and Cried down. These are, 'tis true, but superficial Errors; but however of ill consequence, and 'tis enough to inform us that the whole Fabric is Crazy and Tottering, when we see the rough-cast of our Walls to cleave and split. Plato in his Laws, esteems nothing of more pestiferous consequence to his City, than to give Youngmen the liberty of introducing any change in their Habits, Gestures, Dances, Songs, and Exercises, from one form to another; shifting from this to that, Hunting after Novelties, and applauding the Inventors; by which means Manners are corrupted, and the old institutions come to be nauseated and despised. In all things saving only in those that are evil a change is to be feared; even the change of Seasons, Winds, Viands, and Humours. And no Laws are in their true credit, but such to which God has given so long a continuance, that no one knows their beginning, or that there ever was any other.   

CHAP. XLIV. Of Sleep.  
REason directs, that we should always go the same way; but not always the same pace. And consequently though a Wise Man ought not so much to give the Reins to humane Passions, as to let them deviate him from the right Path; he may notwithstanding without prejudice to his Duty, leave it to them to hasten, or to slack his speed, and not fix himself like a motionless, and insensible Coloss. Could Virtue itself put on Flesh and Blood, I believe the Pulse would Beat faster going on to an Assault, than in going to Dinner: That is to say, there is a necessity she should Heat, and be moved upon this account. I have taken notice, as of an extraordinary thing of some great Men, who in the highest Erterprises, and greatest Dangers, have detained themselves in so settled and serene a Calm, as not at all to hinder their usual Gaiety, or break their Sleep. Alexander the Great, on the Day assigned for that furious Battle betwixt him and Darius, slept so profoundedly, and so long in the Morning, that Parmenio was forced to enter his Chamber, and coming to his Bedside to call him several times by his Name, the time to go to Fight compelling him so to do. The Emperor Otho, having put on a resolution to Kill himself the same night, after having settled his Domestic affairs, divided his Money amongst his Servants, and set a good edge upon a Sword he had made choice of for the purpose, and now staying only to be satisfied whether all his friends were retired in safety, he fell into so sound a sleep, that the Gentlemen of his Chamber heard him Snore. The death of this Emperor has in it circumstances parallelling that of the great Cato, and particularly this before related: For Cato being ready to dispatch himself, whilst he only stayed his hand in expectation of the return of a messenger he had sent, to bring him news whether the Senators he had sent away, were put out from the Port of Utica, he fell into so sound a sleep, that they had him into the next Room; and he whom he had sent to the Port, having awaked him to let him know, that the Tempestuous Wether had hindered the Senators from putting to Sea; he dispatched away another messenger, and composing himself again in the Bed, settled again to sleep, and did so, till by the return of the last messenger, he had certain intelligence they were gone. We may here further compare him with Alexander too, in that great and dangerous Storm that threatened him by the Sedition of the Tribune Metellus, who attempting to publish a Decree for the calling in of Pompey with his Army into the City, at the time of Catiline's Conspiracy, was only, and that stoutly opposed by Cato, so that very sharp language and bitter menaces passed betwixt them in the Senate about that affair; but it was the next day in the Fore-Nune, that the controversy was to be decided; where Metellus, besides the favour of the people, and of Caesar, (at that time of Pompey's Faction) was to appear accompanied with a Rabble of Slaves and Fencers; and Cato only fortified with his own Courage and Constancy; so that his Relations, Domestics, and several virtuous people of his Friends were in great apprehensions for him. And to that Degree, that some there were who passed over the whole Night without Sleep, Eating, or Drinking, for the manifest danger they saw him running into; of which his Wife and Sisters did nothing but Weep, and torment themselves in his House; whereas he, on the contrary, Comforted every one, and after having Supped after his usual manner, went to Bed, and slept profoundly till Morning, that one of his fellow Tribunes roused him to go to the encounter. The knowledge we have of the greatness of this Man's Courage by the rest of his Life, may warrant us securerly to judge, that his indifference proceeded from a soul so much elevated above such accidents, that he disdained to let it take any more hold of his Fancy, than any other ordinary adventure. In the Naval Engagement, that Augustus won of Sextus Pompeius in Sicily, just as they were to begin the Fight he was so fast asleep, that his Friends were compelled to wake him to give the Signal of Battle: And this was it that gave Mark Anthony afterwards occasion to reproach him, that he had not the Courage so much as with open Eyes, to behold the order of his own Squadrons, and not to have dared to present himself before the Soldiers, till first Agrippa had brought him news of the Victory obtained. But as to the business of young Marius, who did much worse (for the day of the last Battle against Sylla, after he had ordered his Army, given the word and Signal of Battle, he laid him down under the Shade of a Tree to repose himself, and fell so fast asleep, that the Rout, and Fight of his Men could hardly wake him, having seen nothing of the Fight) he is said to have been at that time so extremely spent, and worn out with Labour and want of Sleep, that Nature could hold out no longer. Now upon what has been said, the Physicians may determine, whether sleep be so necessary that our lives depend upon it: for we read that King Perseus of Macedon being Prisoner at Rome, was waked to Death; but Pliny instances such as have lived long without sleep. Herodotus speaks of Nations, where the Men sleep and wake by half years: And they who write the Life of the Wise Epimenides, affirm that he slept seven and fifty years together.   

CHAP. XLV. Of the Battle of Dreux.  
OUr Battle of Dreux, is remarkable for several extraordinary accidents: But such as have no great kindness for the Duke of Guise, nor do much favour his reputation, are willing to have him thought too blame, and that his making a Halt and delaying time with this Forces he Commanded, whilst the Constable who was General of the Army was Racked through and through with the Enemy's Artillery, his Battalion Routed, and himself taken Prisoner; is not to be excused: And that he had much better have ran the hazard of charging the Enemy in the Flank, than staying for the advantage of falling in upon the Rear, to suffer so great and so important a loss. But, besides what the event demonstrated, who will consider it without passion or prejudice, will easily be induced to confess, that the aim and design not of a Captain only, but of every Private Soldier ought to look at the Victory in general; and that no particular occurrences, how nearly soever they may concern his own interest, should divert him from that pursuit. Philopemen in an encounter with Machanidas, having sent before a good strong party of his Archers, to begin the Skirmish, which were by the Enemy Routed, and pursued; who pursuing them, and pushing on the Fortune of their Arms in the heat of Victory; and in that pursuit passing by the Battalion where Philopemen was, though his Soldiers were impatient to fall on, yet he was better tempered, and did not think fit to stir from his post, nor to present himself to the Enemy to relieve his Men, but having suffered them to be chaste about the Field, and Cut in pieces before his Face, then charged in upon their Battalion of Foot, when he saw them left Naked by their Horse; and notwithstanding that they were Lacedæmonians, yet taking them in the nick, when thinking themselves secure of the Victory, they began to disorder their Ranks, he did his business with great facility, and then put himself in pursuit of Machanidas. Which case is very like that of Monsieur de Guise: In that Bloody Battle betwixt Agesilaus, and the Baeotians, which Zenophon, who was present at it, reports to be the rudest and most Bloody that he had ever seen: Agesilaus waved the advantage that Fortune presented him, to let the Baeotians Battalion pass by, and then to charge them in the Rear, how certain soever he made himself of the Victory: Judging it would rather be an effect of Conduct than Valour, to proceed that way: And therefore, to show his prowess, rather chose with a wonderful ardour of Courage, to charge them in the Front; but he was well beaten, and wounded for his pains, and constrained at last to disengage himself, and to take the course he had at first neglected; opening his Battalion to give way to this torrent of the Baeotians fury and being passed by, taking notice that they marched in disorder, like men that thought themselves out of danger, he then pursued, and charged them in their Flanks and Rear; yet could not so prevail as to bring it to so general a Rout, but that they leisurely retreated, still Facing about upon him, till they were retired into safety.   

CHAP. XLVI. Of Names.  
WHat variety of Herbs soever are shuffled together in the Dish, yet the whole Mass is swallowed up in one name of a Salad. In line manner, under the consideration of Names, I will make a hodg-podg of differing Articles. Every Nation has certain Names, that, I know not why, are taken in no good sense, as with us, John, William, and Benoist. In the Genealogy of Princes, also there seems to be certain Names fatally affected, as the Ptolemy's of Egypt, the Henry's of England, the Charles of France, the Baldwins of Flanders, and the Williams of our Ancient Aquitaine, from whence, 'tis said, the Name of Guyenne has its derivation; which would seem far fetched, were there not as rude derivations in Plato himself. 'Tis a very frivolous thing in itself, but nevertheless worthy to be Recorded for the strangeness of it, which is writ by an Eye-witness; that Henry Duke of Normandy, Son of Henry the Second, King of England, making a great Feast in France, the concourse of Nobility and Gentry was so great, that being, for Sports sake, divided into Troops, according to their Names, in the first Troop, which consisted of Williams, there were found an Hundred and Ten Knights sitting at the Table of that Name, without reckoning the ordinary Gentlemen, and their Servants. It is as pleasant to distinguish the Tables by the Names of the Guests, as it was in the Emperor Geta, to distinguish the several Courses of his Meat, by the first Letters of the Meats themselves, where those that began with B, were served up together, as Brawn, Beef, bream, Bustards and Becca-ficos, and so of others. Now there is a saying, that it is a good thing to have a good Name, that is to say, Credit, and a good Repute: But besides this, it is really convenient, to have such a Name as is easy of pronunciation, and easy to be remembered; by reason, that Kings, and other great Persons, do by that means the more easily know, and the more hardly forget us; and indeed, of our own Servants, we more frequently call and employ those, whose Names are most ready upon the Tongue. I myself have seen Henry the Second, when he could not for his heart hit of a Gentleman's Name of our Country of Gascony; and moreover, was fain to call one of the Queen's Maids of Honour, by the general Name of her Family, her own being so difficult to pronounce or remember. And Socrates thinks it worthy a Father's Care, to give fine Names to his Children. 'Tis said, that the Foundation of Nostre Dame la Grande, at Poitiers, took its Original from hence, that a Debauched Young Fellow formerly Living in that place, having got to him a Whore, and at her first coming in, ask her Name, and being answered, that it was Mary, he felt himself so suddenly darted through with the Awe of Religion, and the Reverence to that Sacred Name of the Blessed Virgin, that he not only immediately put his Lewd Mistress away from him, but became a reformed Man, and so continued the remainder of his Life: And that in consideration of this Miracle, there was Erected upon the place, where this Young Man's House stood, first a Chapel Dedicated to our Lady, and afterwards the Church that we now see standing there. This Auricular Reproof wrought upon the Conscience, and that right into the Soul: This that follows, insinuated itself merely be the sense. Pythagoras' being in company with some wild Young Fellows, and perceiving that, heated with the Feast, they complotted to go Violate an Honest House, commanded the Singing Wench to alter her Wanton Airs; and by a Solemn, Grave and Spondaick Music, gently enchanted and laid asleep their Ardour. Will not Posterity say, that our Modern Reformation has been wonderfully exact, in having not only scuffled with, and overcome Errors and Vices, and filled the World with Devotion, Humility, Obedience, Peace, and all sorts of Virtue; but to have proceeded so far, as to quarrel with the Ancient Baptismal Names of Charles, Lewis, and Francis, to fill the World with Methusalems', ezekiel's, and Malachies, of a more Scriptural sound? A Gentleman, a Neighbour of mine, a great Admirer of Antiquity, and who was always preferring the Excellency of preceding Times, in comparison with this present Age of ours, did not (amongst the rest) forget to Magnify the Lofty and Magnificent sound of the Gentleman's Names of those Days, Don Grumedan, Quadregan, Angesilan, etc. which but to hear Named, he perceived to be other kind of Men, than Pierre, Guillot and Michael. I am mightily pleased with Jaques Amiot, for leaving throughout a whole French Oration, the Latin Names entire, without varying and dissecting them, to give them a French termination. It seemed a little harsh and rough at first: But already Custom, by the Authority of Plutarch, (whom he took for his Example) has overcome that Novelty. I have often wished, that such as write Chronical Histories in Latin, would leave our Names as they find them, and as they are, and aught to be, for in making Vaudemont, Vallemontances, and Metamorphosing Names, to make them suit better with the Greek or Latin, we know not where we are, and with the persons of the Men, lose the benefit of the Story. To conclude, 'tis a scurvy Custom, and of very ill consequence, that we have in our Kingdom of France, to call every one by the Name of his Manor, or signory, and the thing in the World that does the most prejudice, and confound Families and Descents. A Younger Brother of a good Family, having a Manor left him by his Father, by the Name of which he has been known and Honoured, cannot handsomely leave it; Ten Years after his Decease, it falls into the hand of a stranger, who does the same: Do but judge whereabouts we shall be, concerning the knowledge of these Men. We need look no further for Examples, than our own Royal Family, where every Partage creates a new Surname, whilst in the mean time the Original of the Family is totally lost. There is so great liberty taken in these Mutations, that I have not in my time seen any one advanced by Fortune to any extraordinary condition, who has not presently had Genealogick Titles added to him, new, and unknown to his Father, and who has not been innoculated into some illustrious Stem; and by good Luck, the obscurest Families, are the most proper for Falsification. How many Gentlemen have we in France, who, by their own talk, are of Royal Extraction? More I think, than who will confess they are not. Was it not a pleasant passage of a Friend of mine? There were a great many Gentlemen assembled together, about the dispute of one Lord of a Manor, with another; which other had in truth, some pre-eminence of Titles and Alliances, above the ordinary Scheme of Gentry. Upon the Debate of this Priority of Place, every one standing up for himself, to make himself equal to him, alleging one one Extraction, another another, one the near resemblance of Name, another of Arms, another an old wormeaten Patent, and the least of them, Great-Granchild to some Foreign King. When they came to sit down to Dinner, my Friend, instead of taking his place amongst them, retiring with most profound Congees, entreated the Company to excuse him, for having hitherto Lived with them at the saucy rate of a Companion; but being now better informed of their Quality, he would begin to pay them the Respect due to their Birth and and Grandeur, and that it would ill become him to sit down among so many Princes; and ended the Farce with a Thousand Reproaches. Let us in God's Name satisfy ourselves with what our Fathers were contented, and with what we are: We are great enough, if we rightly understand how to maintain it: Let us not disown the Fortune and Condition of our Ancestors, and lay aside these Ridiculous pretences; that can never be wanting to any one that has the Impudence to allege them. Arms have no more Security, than Surnames. I bear Azure powdered with Trefoils, Or, with a Lion's Paw of the same armed gules in Fez. What privilege to continue particularly in my House and Name? A Son-in-Law will transport it into another Family; or some paltry Purchaser will make them his first Arms; there is nothing wherein there is more change, and confusion. But this consideration leads me perforce into another subject. Let us pry a little narrowly into, and in God's name examine upon what foundation we erect this Glory and Reputation, for which the World is turned topsy turvy: Wherein do we place this Renown, that we hunt after with so great flagrancry, and through so many impediments, and so much trouble? It is in conclusion, Peter or William that carries it, takes it into his possession, and whom it only concerns. O what a valiant faculty is hope, that in a mortal subject, and in a moment makes nothing of usurping infinity and immensity, and of supplying her Master's indigence at her pleasure with all things he can imagine, or desire! Nature has given us this passion for a pretty toy to play withal. And this Peter or William, what is it but a sound when all is done? or three or four dashes with a Pen, so easy to be varied, that I would fain know to whom is to be attributed the glory of so many Victories, to Guesquin, to Glesquin, or to Gueaquin? and yet there would be something of greater moment in the case, than in Lucian, that Sigma should serve Tau with a process for, 

— Non levia, 
Aeneid. lib. 12.  aut ludicra petuntur Praemia.   

To do brave acts, who has the noble Spirit,  
Slights mean rewards, as things below his merit.   The chase is there in very good earnest: The question is, which of these Letters is to be rewarded for so many Sieges, battles, Wounds, Imprisonments, and Services done to the Crown of France, by this famous Constable. Nicholas Denisot never concerned himself further than the Letters of his name, of which he has altered the whole Contexture to build up by Anagram the Count of Alsinois, whom he has celebrated with the utmost force, and glory of his Poetry, and Painting. And the Historian Suetonius could be satisfied with nothing he Writ, unless it might redound to his own particular honour, which made him cashier his father's Surname Levis, to leave Tranquillus Successor to the reputation of his writings. Who would believe that Captain Bayard should have no honour, but what he derives from Peter Terrail; and that Antonio Escalin should suffer himself to his face, to be Robbed of the honour of so many Navigations and Commands at Sea and Land by Captain Paulin, and the Baron de la Garde; These are injuries of the Pen, common to a thousand people. How many are there in every Family of the same Name and Surname? and how many more in several Families, Ages, and Countries? History tells us of three of the name of Socrates, of five Plato's, of eight Aristotle's, of seven Xenophons', of twenty Demetris, and of twenty Theodores; and how many more she was not acquainted with we may imagine. Who hinders my Groom from calling himself Pompey the Great? But after all, by what Virtue, what Authority, or what secret conveyances are there, that fix upon my deceased Groom, or the other Pompey, who had his Head cut off in Egypt, this glorious Renown, and these so much honoured flourishes of the Pen, so as to be of any advantage to them?  


Aeneid. lib. 4.  Id cinerem, & manes credis cucare sepultos?   

Can we believe the dead regard such things?   
What sense have the two Colleagues of the greatest esteem amongst men? Epaminondas of this glorious Verse, that has been so many Age's curren● in his praise; 

Consiliis nostris laus est attrita Laconum:   

One Sparta by my Counsels is o'erthrown.   or Affricanus of this other?  

A sole exoriente: supra Maeotis Paludes  
Nemo est, qui factis me aequiparare queat.   

From early dawn, unto the setting Sun,  
No one can match the deeds that I have done.   
Survivers indeed tickle themselves with these praises, and by them incited to jealousy or desire, inconsiderately, and according their own fancy, attribute to the dead those Virtues themselves pretend to most: God knows how vainly flattering themselves, that they shall one day in turn be capable of the same Characters: however 

— Ad haec se 
Juvenal. Saly. 10.   
Romanus, Grajusque & Barbarus, Induperator  
Erexit, causas discriminis, atque laboris  
Ind habuit, tanto major famae sitis est, quam Virtutis.   

Greek, Roman and Barbarian Chiefs to these,  
Devote their Valour and Contrivances,  
And to that Greediness of Glory owe  
The Dangers and Fatigues they undergo;  
So much more Potent is the Thirst of Fame,  
Than that of Virtue.     

CHAP. XLVII. Of the Incertainty of our Judgement.  
IT was well said of the Poet, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
Homer Iliads 20.  There is every where liberty of Arguing enough, and enough to be said on both sides: For Example, 

Vince Annibal ', & none seppe usar' poi  
Ben la vittoriosa sua ventura. 
Petrar. Son. 83.    

Hannibal ' Conquered; but was not Wise  
To make the best use of his Victories.   Such as would improve this Argument, and condemn the oversight of our Leaders in not pushing home the victory at Moncontour; or accuse the King of Spain of not knowing how to make his best use of the advantage he had against us at St. Quintin, may conclude these oversights to proceed from a Soul already drunk with success, or from a Courage, which being full, and overgorged with this beginning of good fortune, had lost the appetite of adding to it, already having enough to do to digest what it had taken in: He has his Arms full, and can embrace no more: unworthy of the benefit conferred upon him, and the advantage she had put into his hands: for what utility does he reap from it, if notwithstanding he give his Enemy respite to rally to recover his astonishment, and to make head against him? What hope is there that he will dare at another time to attaque an Enemy reunited, and recomposed, and armed anew with Spite and Revenge, who did not dare to pursue him when routed, and unmanned by fear? 

Dum fortuna calet, dum conficit omnia terror. 
Luc. lib. 7.    

Whilst Fortune's in the heat, and terror does  
More than their sharpest Swords subdue their foes.   But withal, what better opportunity can he expect, than that he has lost? 'Tis not here, as in Fencing, where the most hits gain the Prize: For so long as the Enemy is on foot, the Game is new to begin, and that is not to be called a Victory, that puts not an end to the War. In the encounter where Caesar had the worse, near to the City of Oricum, he reproached Pompey's Soldiers, that he had been lost, had their General known how to overcome; and afterwards clawed him away in turn. But why may not a man also argue on the contrary, that it is the effect of a precipitous, and insatiate Spirit, not to know how to bond, and restrain its ardour: that it is to abuse the favours of God to exceed the measure he has prescribed them: and that again to throw a man's self into danger, after a Victory obtained, is again to expose himself to the mercy of Fortune: and that it is one of the greatest discretions in the Rule of War, not to drive an Enemy to despair. Sylla and Marius in the Associate War having defeated the Marsians; seeing yet a Body of Reserve, that prompted by Despair, was coming on like enraged Brutes to charge in upon them, thought it not convenient to stand their charge. Had not Monsieur de Foix his ardour transported him so precipitously to pursue the remains of the Victory of Ravenna, he had not obscured it by his own death. And yet the recent memory of his Example served to preserve Monsieur d' Anguien from the same misfortune at the Battle of Serisoles. 'Tis dangerous to attaque a man you have deprived of all means to escape, but by his Arms: for necessity teaches violent resolutions: 
Porti. Lat. in Decla.  Gravissimi sunt morsus irritatae necessitatis, enraged necessity bites deep. 

Vincitur haud gratis jugulo qui provocat hostem. 
Luc. lib. 4. Maye's Luc.    

The foe that meets the Sword near gratis dies.   This was it that made Pharax withhold the King of Lacedaemon, who had won a Battle of the Mantineans, from going to charge a thousand Argians, who were escaped in an entire Body from the defeat; but rather let them steal off at liberty, that he might not encounter Valour whetted and enraged by mischance. Clodomire, King of Aquitaine, after his Victory pursuing Gondemar, King of Burgundy, beaten, and making off as fast as he could for safety, compelled him to face about, and make head, wherein his obstinacy deprived him of the fruit of his Conquest, for he there lost his life.  
In like manner, if a Man were to choose, whether he would have his Soldiers Ainquant, and richly accoutred with Damaskt Arms, or armed only for necessary defence; this argument would step in, in favour of the first (of which opinion was Sertorius, Philopemen, Brutus, Caesar, and others) that it is to a Soldier an enflaming of courage, and a spur to Glory, to see himself brave; and withal an imitation to be more obstinate in Fight, having his Arms, which are in a manner his Estate, and whole inheritance to defend, which is the reason (says Xenophon) why those of Asia, carried their Wives, Concubines, with their choicest Jewels, and greatest Wealth along with them to the Wars. But then these arguments would be as ready to stand up for the other side, that a General ought rather to render his Men careless and desperate, than to increase their solicitude of preserving themselves: That by this means they will be in a double fear of hazarding their persons; as it will be a double temptation to the Enemy, to fight with greater resolution, where so great booty and so rich spoils are to be obtained: And this very thing has been observed in former times, notably to encourage the Romans against the Samaites. Antiochus showing Hannibal the Army he had raised wonderfully splendid, and Rich in all sorts of Equipage; asked him, if the Romans would be satisfied with that Army? Satisfied? replied the other, yes doubtless were their avarice never so great. Lycurgus not only forbade his Soldiers all manner of bravery in their Equipage, but moreover to strip their conquered Enemies, because he would (as he said) that poverty, and frugality should shine with the rest of the Battle.  
At Seiges, and elsewhere, where occasion draws us near to the Enemy, we willingly suffer our Men to Brave, Rate, and affront the Enemy with all sorts of injurious Language; and not without some colour of reason: For it is of no little consequence, to take from them all hopes of Mercy, and Composition, in representing to them, that there is no fair Quarter to be expected from an Enemy, they have incensed to that degree, nor other Remedy remaining, but in the Victory. And yet Vitellius found himself deceived in this way of proceeding; for having to do with Otho, weaker in the valour of his Soldiers, of long unaccustomed to War, and effeminated with the delights of the City; he so nettled them at last with injurious Language, reproaching them with cowardice, and the regret of the Mistresses, and entertainments they had left behind at Rome; that by this means he inspired them with such resolution, as no exhortation had had the power to have done; and himself made them fall upon him, with whom their own Captains before could by no means prevail. And indeed when they are injuries that touch to the quick, it may very well fall out, that he who went but ill-favouredly to work in the behalf of his Prince, will fall to't with another sort of Mettle, when the quarrel is his own.  
To consider of how great importance is the preservation of the General of an Army, and that the Universal aim of an Enemy is levelled directly at the head, upon which all the others depend; the advice seems to admit of no dispute, which we know has been taken by so many great Captains of changing their habit, and disguising their persons upon the point of going to engage. Nevertheless the inconvenience a Man by so doing runs into, is not less than that he thinks to avoid: For the Captain by this means being concealed from the knowledge of his own Men, the courage they should derive from his Presence and Example, happens by degrees to cool and to decay; and not seeing the wont 
* As at the Battle of jury, in the person of Henry the Great.  Marks, and Ensigns of their Leader, they presently conclude him either dead, or that, despairing of the business, he is gone to shift for himself; and experience shows us that both these ways have been both successful, and otherwise. What befell Pyrrhus in the Battle he fought against the Consul Levinus in Italy, will serve us to both purposes: For though by shrouding his person under the Arms of Demogacles, and making him wear his own, he undoubtedly preserved his own Life, yet by that very means he was withal very near running into the other mischief of losing the Battle. Alexander, Caesar, and Lucullus loved to make themselves known in a Battle, by rich Furnitures, and Arms of a particular lustre and colour: Agis, Agesilaus, and that great Gilippus on the contrary used to Fight obscurely Armed, and without any imperial attendance, or distinction.  
Amongst other oversights Pompey is charged withal, at the Battle of Pharsalia, he is condemned for making his Army stand still to receive the Enemy's charge; by reason that (I shall hear steal Plutarch's own words, that are better than mine) he by so doing, deprived himself of the violent impression, the motion of running adds to the first shock of Arms, and hindered the justle of the Combatants (who were wont to give great impetuosity, and fury to the first Encounter; especially when this came to rush in with their utmost vigour, their courages increasing by the Shouts and the Career) rendering the Soldier's animosity, and ardour, as a man may say, more reserved and cold. This is what he says: But if Caesar had come by the worse, why might it not as well have been urged by another, that, on the contrary the strongest, and most steady posture of Fight, is that wherein a man stands planted firm without motion; and that who makes a halt upon their march, closing up, and reserving their force within themselves for the push of the business, have a great advantage against those who are disordered, and who have already spent half their breath in running on precipitously to the charge? Besides, that an Army being a Body made up of so many individual members, it is impossible for it to move in this fury with so exact a motion, as not to break the order of Battle, and that the best of Foot are not engaged, before their fellows can come in to relieve them. In that unnatural Battle betwixt the two Persian Brothers, the Lacedaemonian Clearchus, who commanded the Greeks of Cyrus' party, led them on softly, and without precipitation to the Charge; but coming within fifty paces hurried them on full speed, hoping in so short a Career, both to look to their order, to husband their breath, and at the same time to give an advantage of violence, and impression both to their persons, and their missile Arms: Others have regulated this question in charging thus; if your Enemy come running upon you, stand firm to receive him; if he stand to receive you, run full drive upon him.  
In the expedition of the Emperor Charles the Fifth into Provence, King Francis was put to choose either to go meet him in Italy, or to expect him in his own Dominions; wherein, though he very well considered of how great advantage it was, to preserve his own territories entire, and clear from the troubles, and inconveniences of the War, to the end that being unexhausted of her stores, it might continually supply Men, and Money at need, that the necessity of War requires at every turn to spoil, and lay waste the Country before them, which cannot very well be done upon ones own; to which may be added that the Country people do not so easily digest such a havoc by those of their own party, as from an Enemy, so that seditions and commotions might by such means be kindled amongst us; that the Licence of Pillage and Plunder (which are not to be tolerated at home) is a great ease and refreshment against the fatigues, and sufferings of War; and that who has no other prospect of gain, than his bare pay, will hardly be kept from running home, being but two steps from his Wife, and his own House: That he who lays the Cloth, is ever at the charge of the Feast: That there is more alacrity in assaulting than defending, and that the shock of a Battles loss in our own Bowels, is so violent as to endanger the disjointing of the whole Body, there being no passion so contagious as that of fear; that is so easily believed, or that so suddenly diffuses its Poison; and that the Cities that should hear the Rattle of this Tempest, that should take in their Captains, and Soldiers yet trembling and out of breath, would be in danger in this heat and hurry, to precipitate themselves upon some untoward resolution: Notwithstanding all this, so it was, that he chose to recall the Forces he had beyond the Mountains, and to suffer the Enemy to come to him. For he might on the other side imagine, that being at home and amongst his Friends, he could not fail of plenty of all manner of conveniences; the Rivers, and Passes he had at his Devotion, would bring him in both Provisions and Money in all security, and without the trouble of Convoy; that he should find his subjects by so much the more affectionate to him, by how much their danger was more near and pressing; that having so many Cities and stops to secure him, it would be in his power to give the Law of Battle at his own opportunity and best advantage; and if it pleased him to delay the time, that under covert, and at his own ease, he might see his Enemy founder, and defeat himself with the difficulties he was certain to encounter, being engaged in an Enemy's Country, where before, behind, and on every side War would be made upon him; no means to refresh himself or to enlarge his Quarters, should diseases infest them, or to lodge his wounded Men in safety: No Money, no Victuals, but all at the point of the Lance; no leisure to repose and take breath, no knowledge of the ways, or Country to secure him from Ambushes and Surprises: And in case of losing a Battle, no possible means of saving the remains. Neither is their want of Example in both these cases. Scipio thought it much better to go attack his Enemy's territories in Africa, than to stay at home to defend his own, and to Fight him in Italy, and it succeeded well with him: But on the contrary, Hannibal in the same War ruined himself, by abandoning the conquest of a strange Country, to go defend his own. The Athenians having left the Enemy in their own Dominions, to go over into Sicily, were not favoured by Fortune in their design; but Agathocles King of Syracuse, found her favourable to him, when he went over into Africa, and left the War at home. By which Examples, and divers others, we are wont to conclude, and with some reason, that events especially in War, do for the most part depend upon Fortune, who will not be governed by, nor submit unto humane prudence; according to the Poet. 

Et male consultis pretium est, prudentia fallax, 
Manil. Astron. lib. 4·   
Nec fortuna probat causas, sequiturque merentes:  
Sed vaga per cunctos nullo discrimine fertur.  
Silicet est aliud quod nos cogatque, regatque  
Majus, & in proprias ducat mortalia leges.   

Prudence deceitful and uncertain is,  
Ill Counsels sometimes hit, where good ones miss;  
Nor yet does Fortune the best Cause approve,  
But wildly does without distinction Rove.  
So that some greater and more constant Cause,  
Rules and Subjects us to more powerful Laws.   But if things hit right, it should seem that our Counsels and Deliberations depend as much upon Fortune, as any thing else we do, and that she engages our very Reason and Arguments, in her uncertainty and confusion. We Argue rashly and adventurously, says Timaeus in Plato, by reason that, as well as ourselves, our Discourses have great participation with the Temerity of Chance.   

CHAP. XLVIII. Of Horses dressed to the Menage, called Destriers.  
I Am now become a Grammarian; I who never Learned any Language but by Rote, and who do not yet know Adjective, Conjunction, or Ablative. I think I have Read, that the Romans had a sort of Horses by them called Funales, or Dextrarios, which were either Led-Horses, or Horses laid in at several Stages, to be taken fresh upon occasion; and thence it is, that we call our Horses of Service, Destriers: And our Romances commonly use the Phrase of destrer for accompagner, to accompany. They also called such as were dressed in such sort, that running full speed side by side without Bridle or Saddle, the Roman Gentlemen Armed at all pieces, would shift, and throw themselves from the one to the other, desultorios equos. The Numidian Men at Arms, had always a Led-Horse in one Hand, besides that they Road upon, to change in the heat of Battle: 
Livius l. 23  Quibus, desultorum in modum, binos trahentibus equos, inter acerrimum saepe pugnam in recentem equum ex fesso armatis, transultare, mos erat. Tanta velocitas ipsis, tamque docile equorum genus. Whose use it was, leading along two Horses after the manner of the Desultorum, Armed as they were, in the heat of Fight, to vault from a tired Horse to a fresh one; so Active were the Men and the Horses to Decile. There are many Horses trained up to help their Riders, so as to run upon any one that appears with a drawn Sword, to fall both with Mouth and Heels upon any that front or oppose them: But it oft falls out, that they do more harm to their Friends, than their Enemies; considering that you cannot lose them from their hold, to reduce them again into order, when they are once engaged and grappled; by which means you remain at the Mercy of their senseless Quarrel. It happened very ill to Artibius General of the Persian Army, Fight Man to Man with Onesilus King of Salamis, to be Mounted upon a Horse dressed after this manner, it being the occasion of his Death; the Squire of Onesilus cleaving him down with a Scyth betwixt the Shoulders, as the Horse was reared up upon his Master. And what the Italians report, that in the Battle of Fornove, King Charles his Horse, with Kicks and Plunges, disengaged his Master from the Enemy, that pressed upon him, without which he had been Slain, sounds oddly, and he ran a very great hazard, and came strangely off; if it be true. The Mamalukes made their Boast, that they had the most ready Horses of any Cavalry in the World; that by nature and custom they were taught to know and distinguish the Enemy, they were to fall foul upon with Mouth and Heels, according to a Word or Sign given: As also to gather up with their Teeth Darts and Lances scattered upon the Field, and present them to their Riders, as they should have occasion to use them. 'Tis said, both of Caesar and Pompey, that amongst other excellent Qualities they were Masters of, they were both excellent Horsemen, and particularly of Caesar, that in his Youth, being Mounted on the bare Back, without Saddle, or Bridle, he could make him run, stop and turn, and perform all his Airs, with his Hands behind him. As Nature designed to make of his Person, and of Alexander two Miracles of Military Art, so one would say, she had done her utmost to Arm them after an extraordinary manner: For every one knows, that Alexander's Horse Bucephalus had a Head inclining to the shape of a Bull, that he would suffer himself to be Mounted and Governed by none but his Master, and that he was so Honoured after his Death, as to have a City Erected to his Name. Caesar had also another, who had Fore-feets like the Hands of a Man, his Hoof being divided in the form of Fingers, who likewise was not to be Ridden by any but Caesar himself; who after his Death dedicated his Statue to the Goddess Venus. I do not willingly alight when I am once on Horseback; for it is the place where, whether well, or sick, I find myself most at ease. Plato recommends it for health, as also Pliny says it is good for the Stomach, and the Joints. We Read in Xenophon a Law, forbidding any one who was Master of a Horse to Travel on Foot. Troglus and Justinus say, That the Parthians were wont to perform all Offices and Ceremonies, not only in War, but also all Affairs, whether public or private, make Bargains, confer, entertain, take the Air, and all on Horseback; and that the greatest distinction betwixt Freemen and Slaves amongst them, was, that the one road on Horseback, and the other went on Foot: An Institution of which, King Cyrus was the founder. There are several Examples in the Roman History, (and Suetonius more particularly observes it of Caesar,) of Captains, who in pressing occasions Commanded their Cavalry to alight, both by that means to take from them all hopes of Flight, as also for the advantage they hoped for in this sort of Fight. 
●vi. l. 3.  Quo haud dubie superat Romanus. Wherein the Romans did questionless excel: So says Livy; however the first thing they did to prevent the Mutinies and Insurrections of Nations of late Conquest, was to take from them their Arms and Horses: And therefore it is that we so often meet in Caesar: Arma proferri, jumenta produci, obsides dari jubet. 
Caesar's Com.  He Commanded the Arms to be produced, the Horses brought out, and Hostages to be given. The Grand Signior to this Day, suffers not a Christian, or a Jew, to keep a Horse of his own, throughout his Empire. Our Ancestors, at the time they had War with the English, in all their greatest Engagements, and pitched Battles, Fought for the most part on Foot, that they might have nothing but their own Force, Courage and Constancy, to trust to, in a Quarrel of so great Concern, as Life and Honour. You stake (whatever Chrysantes in Xenophon says to the contrary,) your Valour, and your Fortune, upon that of your Horse, his Wound or Death, brings your Person into the same danger; his Fear or Fury, shall make you reputed Rash or Cowardly; if he have an ill Mouth, or will not answer to the Spur, your Honour must answer it: And therefore I do not think it strange, that those Battles I spoke of before, were more firm and furious, than those that are Fought on Horseback. 


Virg. Aneid. lib. 10. — Cedebant pariter, pariterque ruebant.  
Victores victique, neque his fuga nota, neque illis.   

They charged together, and did so retreat  
The Victors, and the vanquished; nor yet  
The knack of running was unto the one,  
Or to the other of the Parties known.   Their Battles were much better disputed: Now adays there are nothing but Routs: primus clamour, atque impetus rem decernit. The first shout or the first charge puts an end to the business: And the Arms we choose to make use of in so great a hazard, should be as much as possible at our own command: Wherefore I should advise to choose them of the shortest sort, and such of which we are able to give the best account. A man may repose more confidence in a Sword he holds in his Hand, than in a Bullet he discharges out of a Pistol, wherein there must be a concurrence of several executions, to make it perform its office, the Powder, the Stone, and the Wheel, if any of which fail, it at least endangers your Fortune: A Man strikes much surer, than the Air directs him. 


Lucan. l. 8.  Et quo ferre velint permittere vulnera ventis,  
Ensis habet vires, et gens quecunque virorum est,  
Bella gerit gladiis.   

— Far off with Bows  
They shoot, 
Mr. Mrys Trans.  and where it lists the wind bestows  
Their wounds: but Fight of Sword does strength require,  
All Manly Nations the Sword fight desire.   But of that Weapon I shall speak more sully, when I come to compare the Arms of the Ancients with those of modern use, though by the way, the astonishment of the ear abated, which every one grows familiar with in a little time, I look upon it as a Weapon of very little execution, and hope we shall one day lay it aside. That missile Weapon which the Italians formerly made use of both with Fire and without, was much more terrible: They called a certain kind of Javeline Armed at the point with an Iron three foot long, that it might pierce through and through an Armed Man, Phalarica, which they sometimes in Field-service darted by hand; sometimes from several sorts of Engines for the defence of beleaguered places: The shaft whereof being roul'd round with Flax, Wax, Rozin, Oil, and other combustible matter, took Fire in its flight, and lighting upon the Body of a Man, or his Target, took away all the use of Arms and Limbs. And yet coming to close fight, I should think they should also endamage the Assailant, and that the Camp being as it were planted with these Flaming Truncheons, should produce a common innonvenience to the whole crowd. 


Virg. Aenei. 9 — Magnum stridens contorta Phalarica venit  
Fulminis acta modo.—   

The Comet like Phalarica does fly,  
With a huge noise like lightning through the Sky.   They had moreover other devices which custom made them perfect in (which will seem incredible to us who have not seen them) by which they supplied the effects of our powder and shot. They darted their Piles with so great violence, as ofttimes transfixed two Targuets, and two Armed Men at once, and pinned them together. Neither was the effect of their slings less certain of execution, or of shorter carriage: 
Livi. l. 38.  Saxis globosis funda, mare apertum incessantes: coronas modici circuli magno ex intervallo loci assueti trajicere: non capita modo hostium vulnerabant, sed quem locum destinassent. Calling round stones from the shore for their slings: and with them practising at a great distance to throw through a Circle of very small circumference, they would not only wound an Enemy in the head; but hit any other part at pleasure. Their pieces of Battery had not only the execution, but the thunder of our Canon also: 
Id. ibid.  ad ictus menium cum terribili sonitu editos, pavor, & trepidatio caepit. At the Battery of the Walls, which is performed with a dreadful noise, the defendants began to fear and tremble within. The Gauls our Kinsmen in Asia, abominated these treacherous missite Arms, it being their use to fight with greater Bravery Hand to Hand. Non tam patentibus plagis moventur, ubi latior, quam altior plaga est, 
Id. ibid.  etiam gloriosius se pugnare putant: iidem quum aculeus sagitte aut glandis abditae introrsus tenui vulnere in speciem urit: tum in rabium et pudorem tam parvae perimentis pestis versi; prosternunt corpora humi: They are not so much concerned at large wounds, when a wound is wider than deep, they think they have fought with greater glory: But when they find themselves tormented within, under the aspect of a slight wound, with the point of a Dart, or some concealed glandulous Body, then transported with fury and shame, to perish by so small, and contemptible an Officer of death, they fall to ground; an expression of something very like a harquebuse shot. The ten thousand Greeks in their long and famous retreat, met with a Nation who very much galled them with great and strong Bows, carrying Arrows so long, that taking them up one might return them back like a Dart, and with them pierce a Buckler, and an Armed Man through and through. The Engines of Dionysius his invention at Syracuse, to shoot vast massy Darts, and Stones of a prodigious greatness with so great impetuosity, and at so great a distance, came very near to our modern inventions. But in this discourse of Horses and Horsemanship, we are not to forget the pleasant posture of one Maistre Pierre Pol, a Doctor of Divinity, upon his Mule, whom Menstrelet reports always to have rid aside through the streets of Paris like a Woman. He says also elsewhere, that the Gascons had terrible Horses, that would wheel, and make the Pirovette in their full speed, which the French, Picards, Dutch, and Brabanters looked upon as a Miracle, having never seen the like before; which are his very words. Caesar speaking of the Swedes; in the charges they make on Horseback, says he, they often throw themselves off to fight on foot, having taught their Horses not to stir in the mean time from the place, to which they presently run again upon occasion; and according to their custom, nothing is so unmanly, and so base as to use Saddles, or Pads, and they despise such as make use of those conveniences: insomuch that being but a very few in number, they fear not to attack a great many. That which I have formerly wondered at, to see a Horse made to perform all his Airs with a Switches only, and the Reins upon his Neck, was common with the Massilians, who rid their Horses without Saddle or Bridle. 

Et gens quae nudo residens Massilia dorso, 
Aeneid. l. 4.   
Ora levi flectit, fraenorum nescia virga.  
Et numidae infraeni cingunt.   

Massilians who on the bare Backs do ride,  
And with a Switches, not knowing Bridles, guide  
The managed Steed, and fierce Numidians too  
That use no Rein, begird us round.   Equi sine fraenis, deformis ipse 〈◊〉, rigida cervice, & extento capite currentium. 
Livel. 35.  The Career of a Horse without a Bridle must needs be ungrateful, his Neck being extended stiff, and his Nose thrust out. King Alphonso, he who first instituted the Order des Chevaliers de la Band, or de l' Escharpe in Spain, amongst other rules of the Order gave them this, that they should never ride Mule or Mulet, upon penalty of a Mark of Silver; which I had lately out of Gueuara's Letters; which whoever gave them the title of Golden Epistles, had another kind of opinion of them than I have, and perhaps saw more in them than I do. The Courtier says, that till his time it was a disgrace to a Gentleman to ride one of these Creatures: But the Abyssins' on the contrary, as they are nearer advanced to the person of Prester John, do affect to be mounted upon large Mules, for the greatest dignity and grandeur. Xenophon tells us, that the Assyrians were fain to keep their Horses fettered in the Stable, they were so fierce and vicious: and that it required so much time to lose and harness them, that to avoid any disorder this tedious preparation might bring upon them, in case of surprise, they never sat down in their Camp, till it was first well fortified with Ditches and Rampires. His Cyrus, who was so great a Master in al●●●●ner of Horse Service, kept his Horses to their ordinary, and never suffered them to have any thing to eat till first they had earned it by the sweat of some kind of exercise. The Scythians when in the Field, and in scarcity of provisions, used to let their Horse's blood, which they drank, and sustained themselves by that diet. 


Mart. l. 2.  Venit & epoto Sarmata pastus equo.   

The Scythian also comes without remorse,  
Having before quaffed up his bleeding Horse   Those of Crotta being besieged by Metellus, were in so great necessity for drink, that they were fain to quench their thirst with their Horse's Urine: and to show how much better cheap the Turkish Armies support themselves than our European Forces, 'tis said, that besides that the Soldiers drink nothing but Water, and eat nothing but Rice and Salt Flesh pulverised (of which every one may easily carry about with him a month's provision) they know how to feed upon the Blood of their Horses, as well as the Moscovite and Tartar, and salt it for their use. These new discovered people of the Indies, when the Spaniards first landed amongst them, had so great an opinion both of the Men and Horses, that they looked upon the first as Gods, and the other Animals ennobled above their nature. Insomuch that after they were subdued, coming to sue for Peace, and to bring them Gold and Provisions, they failed not to present of the same to the Horses, with the same kind of harangue to them, they had made to the other; interpreting their neighing for a language of Truce and Friendship. In these nearer Indieses, to ride upon an Elephant was the first place of Honour, the second to ride in a Coach with four Horses, the third to ride upon a Camel, and the last to be carried, or drawn, by one Horse only. Some one of our late Writers tells us, that he has been in a Country in those parts, where they ride upon Oxen with Pads, Stirrups, and Bridles, and very much at their ease. Quintus Fabius Maximus Rutilianus in a Battle with the Samnites, seeing his Horse, after three or four Charges, had failed of breaking into the Enemy's Battalion, took this course, to make them unbridle all their Horses, so that having nothing to check their Career, they might through Weapons and Men, open the way to his foot, who by that means gave them a bloody defeat. The same command was given by Quintus Fulvius Flaccus against the Celtiberians: 
Livi. l. 40.  Id cum majore vi equorum facietis, si effraenatos in hosts equos immittatis: quod saepe Romanos equites cum laude fecisse memoriae proditum est. Detractisque fraenis bis ultro citroque cum magna strage hostium, in fractis omnibus hastis, transcurrerunt. You will do your business with greater advantage of your Horse's strength, if you spur them unbridled upon the Enemy, as it is recorded the Roman Horse to their great Glory have often done. And their Bits being pulled off without breaking a Lance, to have charged through and through, with greater slaughter of the Enemy: The Duke of Muscovie was anciently obliged to pay this reverence to the Tartars, that when they sent any one Embassy to him, he went out to meet them on foot, and presented them with a Mazer, or Goblet of Mare's Milk (a beverage of greatest esteem amongst them) and so great, that if in Drinking, a drop fell by chance upon the Horses Main, they thought themselves indispensably bound to lick it off with their Tongue: The Army that Bajazet had sent into Russia, was overwhelmed with so dreadful a Tempest of Snow, that to shelter, and preserve themselves from starving, many ripped up, and embowelled their Horses, to creep into their Bellies, and enjoy the benefit of that Vital heat. Bajazet, after that furious Battle wherein he was overthrown by Tamerlane, was in a hopeful way of securing his own person by the fleetness of an Arabian Mare he had under him, had he not been constrained to let her drink her fill at the ford of a River in his way, which rendered her so heavy and indisposed, that he was afterwards easily overtaken by those that pursued him: They say indeed that to let a Horse stale takes him off his mettle, but I should rather have thought that drinking would have refreshed her, and revived her spirits: Croesus marching his Army through certain furs near Sardis, met with an infinite number of Serpents, which the Horses devoured with great appetite, and which Herodotus says was a prodigy of ominous portent to his affairs. We call a Horse Cheval entier, that has his Main, Ears, and other parts entire, and no other will pass muster· The Lacedæmonians having defeated the Athenians in Sicily, returning triumphant from the victory into the City of Syracuse, amongst other insolences, caused all the Horses they had taken to be shorn, and led in triumph. Alexander fought with a Nation called Daae; a people whose Discipline it was to march two and two together, Armed on Horseback to the War, and being in Fight one always alighted, and so they fought one while on Horseback and another on Foot, one after another by turns. I do not think that for graceful riding, any Nation in the World excels the French; though a good Horseman, according to our way of speaking, seems rather to respect the Courage of the Man than his Horsemanship and address in riding. Of all that ever I saw the most knowing in that Art, that had the best seat, and the best method in breaking Horses, was Monsieur de Carnevalet who served our King Henry the Second: I have seen a Man ride with both his feet upon the Saddle, take off his Saddle, and at his return take it up again, refit, and remount it, riding all the while full speed; having Galloped over a Bonnet, make at it very good shoots backwards with his Bow, take up any thing from the ground, setting one foot down and the other in the Stirrup; with twenty other Apes-tricks, which he got his living by. There has been seen in my time at Constantinople two Men upon an Horse, who in the height of his speed would throw themselves off, and into the Saddle again by turn, and one who Bridled and Saddled his Horse with nothing but his Teeth. Another who betwixt two Horses, one foot upon one Saddle, and another upon the other, carrying another upon his Shoulders; would ride full careeer, the other standing bolt upright upon him, making very good shoots with his Bow. Several who would ride full speed with their heels upward, and their Hands upon the Saddle betwixt several Scymiters, with the points upward fixed in the Harness. When I was a Boy, the Prince of Salmona, riding a rough Horse at Naples to all his Airs, held Reals under his Knees and Toes; as if they had been nailed there, to show the firmness of his Seat.   

CHAP. XLIX. Of Ancient Customs.  
I Should willingly pardon our people for admitting no other pattern, or rule of perfection, than their own peculiar manners and customs. It being a common vice, not of the vulgar only, but almost of all Men, to walk in the Beaten Road, their Ancestors have trod before them: I am content when they see Fabritius or Lelius, that they look upon their countenance and behaviour as barbarous, seeing they are neither clothed, nor fashioned according to our mode. But I find fault with their singularity, when it arrives to that degree of indiscretion, as to suffer themselves to be imposed upon by authority of the present usance, as every Month to alter their opinion, if custom so require, and that they should so vary their judgement in their own particular concern: When they wore the Belly-pieces of their Doublets up as high as their Breasts, they stiffly maintained that they were in their proper place: some years after they were slipped down betwixt their Thighs, and then they could laugh at the former fashion as uneasy and intolerable. The fashion now in use, makes them absolutely condemn the other two, with so great indignation, and so universal contempt, that a Man would think, there was a certain kind of madness crept in amongst them, that infatuates their understandings, to this strange degree. Now seeing that our change of fashions is so prompt and sudden, that the inventions of all the Tailors in the World, cannot furnish out new Whim-whams enough to feed our vanity withal; there will often be a necessity, that the despised ones must again come in vogue, and even those immediately after fall into the same contempt, and that the same judgement must in the space of fifteen or twenty years, take up not only different, but contrary opinions, with an incredible lightness and inconstancy: There is not any of us so cautelous and discreet, that suffers not himself to be gulled with this contradiction, and both in external and internal sight to be insensibly blinded. I will here muster up some old customs, that I have in memory, some of them the same with ours, the others different, to the end, that bearing in mind this continual variation of humane things, we may have our judgements clearer, and more firmly settled: the thing in use amongst us of fight with Rapier and Cloak, was in practice amongst the Romans also, Sinistris sagos involvant, gladiosque distringuunt. 
Caesar de bello civili lib. 1.  They wrapped their Cloaks upon the left Arm, and handled the Sword with the right, says Caesar: And I observe an old vicious Custom of our Nation, which continues yet amongst us, which is to stop passengers we meet upon the Road, to compel them to give an account who they are; and to take it for an injury, and just cause of quarrel, if they refuse to do it: At the Baths, which the ancients made use of every day before they went to Dinner, and as frequently as we wash our Hands, they at first only bathed their Arms and Legs; but afterwards, and by a Custom that has continued for many Ages in most Nations of the World, they bathed stark naked in mixed and perfumed waters, looking upon it as a great simplicity to bathe in mere water: The most delicate and affected, perfumed themselves all over three or four times a day. They often caused their hair to be pinched off; as the Women of France have some time since, taken up a Custom to do their Foreheads. 


Mart lib. 2. Epig. 62.  Quod pectus, quod crura tibi, quod brachia vellis.   

How dost thou twitch thy Breast, thy Arms and Thighs.   though they had Ointments proper for that purpose. 


Id. lib. 6. Epi. 93.  Psilotro nitet, aut arida latet abdita creta.   

This in Wild-vine shines, or else doth calk  
Her rank pores up in a dry crust of chalk.   they delighted to lie soft, and pretended it for a great testimony of hardness, to lie upon a matrice. They did eat lying upon Beds, much after the manner of the Turks in this Age. 

Judas thoro pater Aeneas sic orsus ab alto. 
Aeneid. l. 2.    

Then thus Aeneas from his Bed of State  
Begun Troy's woeful Story to relate.   And 'tis said of the younger Cato, that after the Battle of Pharsalia, being entered into a melanchollick disposition, at the ill posture of the public affairs, he took his repose always sitting, assuming a strict and severe course of Life. It was also their custom to Kiss the Hands of great persons; the more and better to honour, and caress them: And meeting with their equals, they always Kissed in salutation, as do the Venetians. 

Gratatusque darem cum dulcibus oscula verbis. 
Ovid. de pont. lib. 4. Eleg. 9    

And kindest words I would with Kisses mix.   In petitioning, or saluting any great Man, they used to lay their Hands upon his knees. Pasiclez the Philosopher and Brother of Crates, instead of laying his Hand upon the knee, laid it upon his private parts, and being rudely repulsed by him to whom he made that indecent compliment; What said he, is not that part your own as well as the other? They used to eat their fruits as we do after Dinner. They whipped their Arses (let the Ladies if they please mince it smaller) with a Sponge; which is the reason that Spongia is a smutty word in Latin: Which Sponge was also fastened to the end of a stick, as appears by the Story of him, who as he was led along to be thrown to the wild beasts in the sight of the people, ask leave to do his business, and having no other way to dispatch himself, forced the Sponge and Stick down his own Throat and choked himself. They used to terge after coition with perfumed Wool. 

Mart. lib. 11. Epist. 50.  At tibi nil faciam, sed lota mentula lana.  
........................  they used in the streets of Rome, to place certain Vessels and little Tubs, for passengers to piss in. 


Lucret. l. 4.  Pusi saepe lacum propter, se ac dolia curta.  
Somno de vincti credunt extollere vestem.   

Boys dream of Pissing in the Tub and Lake,  
And find themselves bepissed when they awake.   They used to collation betwixt Meals, and had in Summer, Sellers of Snow to cool their Wine; and some there were who made use of Snow in Winter, not thinking their Wine cool enough at that cold season of the year. The Men of quality had their Cupbearers, and Carvers, and their Booffoons to make them sport: They had their meat served up in Winter, upon a sort of Chafing-Dishes; which were set upon the Table, and had portable Kitchens (of which I myself have seen some) wherein all their service was carried after them. 

Has vobis epulas habete lauti, 
Mart. l. 7. Epig. 47.   
Nos offendimus ambulante Caena.   

Those feasts by you indeed are highly prized,  
At walking Suppers we are scandalised.   In Summer they had a contrivance, to bring fresh and clear rills through their lower Rooms, wherein were great store of living fish, which the guests took out with their own Hands to be dressed; every Man according to his own liking. Fish has ever had this preeminence, and keeps it still, that the great ones all pretend to be Cooks in their favour, and indeed the taste is more delicate, than that of Flesh, at least to me. But in all sorts of magnificence, debauchery, and voluptuous inventions of effeminacy and expense, we do in truth all we can to parallel them, for our wills are as corrupt as theirs: but we want power to reach them; and our force is no more able to reach them in their vicious, than in their virtuous qualities; for both the one and the other, proceed from a vigour of soul, which was without comparison greater in them, than in us: And souls, by how much the weaker they are, by so much have they less power to do or very well, or very ill: The highest place of honour amongst them was the middle; the name going before, and that following after, either in writing or speaking; had no signification of Grandeur, as is evident by their writings, they will sooner say Opius and Caesar, than Caesar and Opius, and me, and thee, than thee, and me; which is the reason that made me formerly take notice in the life of Flaminius, in our French Plutarch of one passage, where it seems as if the Author, speaking of the jealousy of honour, betwixt the Aetolians and Romans, about the winning of a Battle, they had with their joined forces obtained, made it of some importance, that in the Greek Songs, they had put the Aetolians before the Romans: If there be no amphibology, or double dealing in the words of the French translation; an instance of which I present you out of Plutarch, though Monsieur de Montaigne did not think it worth repeating. 
Here (Friendly Passenger,) we Buried lie, 
Plut. vit. Tit. Quint. Flaminius.   
Without Friends, Tears, or Funeral Obsequy,  
Full Thirty Thousand Men in Battle Slain,  
By the Aetolians, on Thesalian Plain,  
And Latins, whom Flaminius led on,  
And brought from Italy to Macedon.  
With his fierce Valour, when faint Philip fled  
With greater speed to save his timorous Head,  
Than Hart or Hind, when Dogs upon the Trace,  
Through Woods pursue them with a full Cry Chace.  The Ladies in their Baths, made no scruple of admitting Men amongst them, and moreover made use of their Servingmen to Rub and Anoint them: 

Inguina succintus nigra tibi servus aluta 
Mart. lib. ● Epig. 34.   
Stat, quoties calidis nuda foveris aquis.   

…  
…   They all Powdered themselves with a certain Powder, to moderate their Sweats. The Ancient Gauls, says Sidonius Apollinaris, wore their Hair long before, and the hinder part of the Head cut short, a Fashion that begins to be revived in this Vicious and Effeminate Age. The Romans used to pay the Watermen their Fare, at their first stepping into the Boat, which we never do till after Landing. 


Hor. lib. 1. Sat. 5.  Dum as exigitur, dum mula ligatur,  
Tota abit hora.   

Whilst the Fares paying, and the Mule is tied,  
A whole Hours time at least away doth slide.   The Women used to lie on that side the Bed, next the Wall: And for that reason, they called Caesar, Spondam Regis Nicomedis, one of the greatest Blemishes in his Life, and that gave occasion to his Soldiers to sing to his Face, 


Suet. in vita Cae.  Gallias Caesar subegit, Nicomedes Caesarem.   

Caesar the Gauls subdued, 'tis true,  
But Nicomedes, Caesar did subdue.   

Ecce Caesar nunc triumphant, qui subegit Gallias,  

Id. eod. not quoted by Montaigne.  Nicomedes non triumphant, qui subegit Caesarem.   

See Caesar Triumphs now for Conquering Gaul,  
For Conqui'ring him, King Nicomede at all  
No Triumph has.   They took Breath in their Drinking, and dashed their Wine, 

— Quis puer ocius 
Hor. lib. 7. Ode. 11.   
Restinguet ardentis falerni  
Pecula praetereunte lympha?   

What pretty Boy's at leisure to come in,  
And cool the heat of the Falernian Wine,  
With the clear gliding Stream?   And the Roguish Looks and Gestures of our Lacqueys was also in use amongst them. 

O Jane, a tergo quem nulla ciconia pinsit,  
Nec manus auriculas imitata est mobilis albas, 
Persius. Sat. 1.   
Nec linguae quantum sitiet canis Apula tantum.   

O Janus, who both ways a Spy dost wear,  
So that no Scoffer, though behind thee, dare  
Make a Stork's-bill, Ass-ears, or far more long.  
Than thirsty panting Curs, shoot out his Tongue.   The Argian and Roman Ladies, always Mourned in White, as ours did formerly here; and should do still, were I to Govern in this point. But there are whole Books of this Argument.   

CHAP. L. Of Democritus and Heraclitus.  
THe Judgement is an utensil proper for all subjects, and will have an Oar in every thing: which is the reason, that in these Essays I take hold of all occasions. Where, though it happen to be a subject I do not very well understand, I try however, sounding it at a distance, and finding it too deep for my stature, I keep me on the firm shore: and this knowledge that a Man can proceed no further, is one effect of its Virtue, even in the most inconsidering sort of men. One while in an idle and frivolous subject, I try to find out matter whereof to compose a body, and then to prop, and support it. Another while I employ it in a noble subject, one that has been tossed and tumbled by a thousand hands, wherein a Man can hardly possibly introduce any thing of his own, the way being so beaten on every side, that he must of necessity walk in the steps of another. In such a case, 'tis the work of the judgement to take the way that seems best, and of a thousand paths, to determine that this or that, was the best chosen. I leave the choice of my arguments to Fortune, and take that the first presents me; they are all alike to me, I never design to go through any of them; for I never see all of any thing: Neither do they who so largely promise to show it others. Of a hundred Members and Faces that every thing has, I take one, one while to look it over only, another while to ripple up the Skin, and sometimes to pinch it to the Bones: I give a stab, not so wide, but as deep as I can; and am for the most part, tempted to take it in hand by some absolute gracefulness I discover in it. Did I know myself less, I might perhaps venture to handle something or other to the bottom, and to be deceived in my own inability, but sprinkling here one word, and there another, Patterns cut from several Pieces, and scattered without design, and without engaging myself too far, I am not responsible for them, or obliged to keep close to my subject, without varying at my own liberty and pleasure, and giving up myself to doubt and incertainty, and to my own governing Method, Ignorance. All Motion discovers us. The very same Soul of Caesar, that made itself so Conspicuous in Marshalling and Commanding the Battle of Pharsalia, was also seen as Solicitous and Busy in the softer Affairs of Love. A Man makes a Judgement of a Horse, not only by seeing his Menage in his Airs, but by his very walk, nay, and by seeing him stand in the Stable. Amongst the Functions of the Soul, there are some of a lower and meaner Form, who does not see her in those Inferior Offices, as well as those of Nobler Note, never fully discover her; and peradventure, she is best discovered, where she moves her own natural pace. The Winds of Passions take most hold of her in her highest flights; and, the rather, by reason that she wholly applies herself to, and exercises her whole Virtue upon every particular subject, and never handles more than one thing at a time, and that not according to it, but according to herself. Things in respect to themselves, have peradventure their Weight, Measures and Conditions; but when we once take them into us, the Soul forms them as she pleases. Death is Terrible to Cicero, Coveted by Cato, and Indifferent to Socrates. Health, Conscience, Authority, Knowledge, Riches, Beauty, and their contraries, do all strip themselves at their entering into us, and receive a new Robe, and of another Fashion, from every distinct Soul, and of what Colour, Brown, Bright, Green, Dark and Quality, Sharp, Sweet, Deep, or Superficial, as best pleases them, for they are not yet agreed upon any common Standard of Forms, Rules, or Proceedings; every one is a Queen in her own Dominions. Let us therefore no more excuse ourselves upon the External Qualities of things, it belongs to us to give ourselves an account of them. Our good or ill, has no other dependence, but on ourselves. 'Tis there that our Offerings and our Vows are due, and not to Fortune: She has no power over our Manners, on the contrary, they draw, and make her follow in their Train, and cast her in their own Mould. Why should not I Censure Alexander, Roaring and Drinking at the prodigious rate he sometimes used to do? Or, if he played at Chess, what string of his Soul was not touched by this Idle and Childish Game? I hate and avoid it, because it is not Play enough, that it is too grave and serious a Diversion, and I am ashamed to lay out as much Thought and Study upon that, as would serve to much better uses. He did not more pump his Brains about his Glorious Expedition into the Indies; and another that I will not name, took not more pains to unravel a passage, upon which depends the safety of all Mankind. To what a degree than does this ridiculous Diversion molest the Soul, when all her Faculties shall be summoned together upon this Trivial Account? And how fair an opportunity she herein gives every one to know, and to make a right Judgement of himself? I do not more throughly sift myself in any other posture, than this. What Passion are we exempted from in this insignificant Game? Anger, Spite, Malice, Impatience, and a vehement desire of getting the better in a concern, wherein it were more excusable, to be Ambitious of being overcome: For to be Eminent, and to excel above the common rate in frivolous things, is nothing graceful in a Man of Quality and Honour. What I say in this Example, may be said in all others. Every Particle, every Employment of Man, does Exalt or Accuse him, equally with any other. Democritus and Heraclitus were two Philosophers, of which, the first finding Humane Condition Ridiculous and Vain, never appeared abroad, but with a Jeering and Laughing Countenance: Whereas Heraclitus Commiserating that Condition of ours, appeared always with a Sorrowful Look, and Tears in his Eyes. 

— Alter  

Juven. Sat. 10.  Ridebat quoties a limine moverat unum,  
Protuleratque pedem, flebat contrarius alter.   

One always, when he o'er his Threshold stepped,  
Laughed at the World, the other always Wept.   I am clearly for the first Humour; not because it is more pleasant to Laugh, than to Weep; but because it is Ruder, and expresses more Contempt, than the other; because I think we can never be sufficiently despised to our desert. Compassion and Bewailing, seem to employ some Esteem of, and Value for the thing Bemoaned: whereas the things we Laugh at, are by that expressed to be of no Moment or Repute. I do not think that we are so Unhappy, as we are Vain, or have in us so much Malice, as Folly; we are not so full of Mischief, as Inanity: Nor so Miserable, as we are Vile and Mean. And therefore Diogenes, who passed away his time in rolling himself in his Tub, and made nothing of the Great Alexander, esteeming us no better than Flies or Bladders puffed up with Wind, was a sharper, and more penetrating, and consequently in my opinion, a juster Judge, than Timon Surnamed the Man-Hater; for what a Man hates he lays to Heart: This last was an Enemy to all Mankind, did positively desire our Ruin, and avoided our Conversation as dangerous, proceeding from Wicked and Depraved Natures: The other valued us so little, that we could neither trouble, nor infect him by our Contagion; and left us to Herd with one another, not out of Fear, but Contempt of our Society: Concluding us as incapable of doing good, as ill. Of the same strain was Statilius his Answer, when Brutus Courted him into the Conspiracy against Caesar, He was satisfied that the Enterprise was Just; but he did not think Mankind so considerable, as to deserve a Wise Man's Concern: According to the Doctrine of Hegesias; who said, That a Wise Man ought to do nothing but for himself, forasmuch as he only was worthy of it: And to the saying of Theodorus, That it was not reasonable a Wise Man should hazard himself for his Country, and endanger Wisdom, for a company of Fools. Our Condition is as Ridiculous, as Risible.   

CHAP. LI. Of the Vanity of Words.  
A Rhetorician of times past, said, That to make little things appear great, was his profession. This is a Shoemaker, who can make a great Shoe for a little Foot. They would in Sparta have sent such a Fellow to be Whipped, for making profession of a lying and deceitful Art: And I fancy, that Archidamus who was King of that Country, was a little surprised at the Answer of Thucydides, when enquiring of him, which was the better Wrestler, Pericles, or he▪ he replied, that it was hard to affirm; for when I have thrown him, said he, he always persuades the Spectators, that he had no fall, and carries away the Prize. They who Paint, Pounce and Plaster up the Ruins of Women, filling up their Wrinkles and Deformities, are less to blame; because it is no great matter, whether we see them in their Natural Complexions, or no: whereas these make it their business to deceive not our sight only, but our Judgements, and to Adulterate and Corrupt the very Essence of things. The Republics that have maintained themselves in a Regular and well Modelled Government, such as those of Lacedaemon and Crect, had Orators in no very great Esteem. Aristo did wisely define Rhetoric to be a Science to persuade the People; Socrates and Plato, an Art to Flatter and Deceive: And those who deny it in the general description, verify it throughout in their Precepts. The Mahometans will not suffer their Children to be Instructed in it, as being useless, and the Athenians perceiving of how pernicious Consequence the Practice of it was, it being in their City of universal Esteem, ordered the principal part, which is to move Affections, with their Exordiums and Perorations, to be taken away. 'Tis an Engine invented, to manage and govern a disorderly and tumultuous Rabble, and that never is made use of, but like Physic to the Sick, in the Paroxisms of a discomposed Estate. In those, where the Vulgar, or the ignorant, or both together, have been all powerful, and able to give the Law, as in those of Athens, Rhodes and Rome, and where the Public Affairs have been in a continual Tempest of Commotion, to such places have the Orators always repaired. And in truth, we shall find few persons in those Republics, who have pushed their Fortunes to any great degree of Eminence, without the assistance of Elocution: Pompey, Caesar, Crassus, Lucullus, Lentulus and Metellus, have thence taken their chiefest Spring, to mount to that degree of Authority, to which they did at last arrive: Making it of greater use of them, than Arms, contrary to the opinion of better times. For L. Volumnius speaking publicly in favour of the Election of Q. Fabius, and Pub. Decius, to the Consular Dignity: These are Men, said he, born for War, and great in Execution, in the Combat of the Tongue altogether to seek; Spirits truly Consular. The Subtle, Eloquent and Learned, are only good for the City, to make Praetors of, to administer Justice. Eloquence Flourished most at Rome, when the Public Affairs were in the worst condition, and the Republic most disquieted with intestine Commotions, as a frank and untilled Soil bears the worst Weeds. By which it should seem, that a Monarchical Government has less need of it, than any other: For the Brutality, and Facility, natural to the common People, and that render them subject to be turned and twined, and led by the Ears, by this charming harmony of words, without weighing or considering the truth and realty of things by the force of reason: This Facility, I say, is not easily found in a single person, and it is also more easy by good Education and Advice, to secure him from the impression of this Poison. There was never any famous Orator known to come out of Persia, or Macedon.  
I have entered into this discourse upon the occasion of an Italian I lately received into my Service, and who was Clerk of the Kitchen to the late Cardinal Caraffa till his Death. I put this Fellow upon an account of his Office: where he fell to discourse of this Palate-Science, with such a settled Countenance, and Magisterial Gravity, as if he had been handling some profound point of Divinity. He made a Learned distinction of the several sorts of Appetites; of that a Man has before he begins to Eat, and of those after the second and third Service: The means simply to satisfy the first, and then to raise and accuate the other two: The ordering of the Sauces, first in general, and then proceeded to the qualities of the Ingredients, and their effects: The differences of Salads according to their seasons, which ought to be served up hot, and which cold: The manner of their Garnishment and Decoration, to render them yet more acceptable to the Eye: After which he entered upon the order of the whole Service, full of weighty and important Considerations. 


Juven. ●at. 5. — Nec minimo sane discrimine refert  
Quo gestu lepores, & quo gallina secetur.   

Nor with less Criticism did Observe  
How we a Hare, and how a Hen should Carve.   And all this set out with lofty and magnific Words; the very same we make use of, when we discourse of the Regiment of an Empire. Which Learned Lecture of my Man, brought this of Terence into my Memory. 

Hoc falsum est, hoc adustum est, hoc lautum est parum,  

Ter. Adelph. Act. 3. Scae. 5.  Illud recte iterum sic memento, sedulo  
Moneo quae possum pro mea sapientia.  
Postremo tanquam in speculum, in patinas, Demea,  
Inspicere jubeo, & moneo quid facto usus sit.   

This is too Salt, this Burnt, this is too plain,  
That's well, remember to do so again.  
Thus do I still advise to have things fit,  
According to the Talon of my Wit.  
And then my (Demea) I command my Cook,  
That into every Dish he pry and look,  
As if it were a Mirror, and go on  
To order all things, as they should be done.   And yet even the Greeks themselves did very much admire, and highly applaud the order and disposition that Paulus Aemylius observed in the Feast he made them at his return from Macedon: But I do not here speak of effects, I speak of words only. I do not know whether it may have the same operation upon other Men, that it has upon me: But when I hear our Architects thunder out their Bombast words of Pilasters, Architraves and Cornices, of the Corinthian and Doric Orders, and such like stuff, my imagination is presently possessed with the Palace of Apollidonius in Amadis de Gaul; when after all, I find them but the palfry pieces of my own Kitchen Door. And to hear Men talk of Metonomies, Metaphors and Allegories, and other Grammar words, would not a Man think they signified some rare and exatick form of speaking? And this other is a Gullery of the same stamp, to call the Offices of our Kingdom by the lofty Titles of the Romans, though they have no similitude of Function, and yet less Authority and Power. And this also, which I doubt will one Day turn to the Reproach of this Age of ours, unworthily and indifferently to confer upon any we think fit, the most glorious Surnames with which Antiquity Honoured but one or two persons in several Ages. Plato carried away the Surname of Divine, by so universal a consent, that never any one repined at it, or attempted to take it from him: And yet the Italians who pretend, and with good reason, to more sprightly Wits, and founder Discourses, than the other Nations of their time, have lately Honoured Aretine with the same Title; in whose Writings, save a tumid Phrase, set out with smart Periods, ingenious indeed, but far fetched, and Fantastic, and the Eloquence (be it what it will) I see nothing in him above the ordinary Writers of his time, so far is he from approaching the Ancient Divinity. And we make nothing of giving the Surname of Great to Princes, that have nothing in them above a Popular Grandeur.   

CHAP. LII. Of the Parsimony of the Ancients.  
ATtilius Regulus, General of the Roman Army in afric, in the height of all his Glory and Victories over the Carthaginians, writ to the Republic to acquaint them, that a certain Hind he had left in trust with his whole Estate, which was in all, but Seven Acres of Land, was run away with all his Instruments of Husbandry, entreating therefore, that they would please to call him home, that he might take order in his own Affairs, lest his Wife and Children should suffer by this disaster: Whereupon the Senate appointed another to manage his Business, caused his Losses to be made good, and ordered his Family to be maintained at the Public Expense. The Elder Cato returning Consul from Spain, sold his Horse of Service, to save the Money it would have cost in bringing him back by Sea into Italy: And being Governor of Sardignia, made all his Visits on foot, without other Train, than one Officer of the Republic, that carried his Robe and a Cencer for Sacrifices; and for the most part carried his Male himself. He bragged, that he had never worn a Gown that cost above Ten Crowns, nor had ever sent above Ten Pence to the Market for one Days Provision, and that as to his Country Houses, he had not one that was rough cast on the outside. Scypio Aemylianus, after two Triumphs, and two Consulships, went an Embassy with no more than Seven Servants in his Train. 'Tis said, that Homer had never more than one, Plato three, and Zeno, founder of the Sect of Stoics, none at all. Tiberius' Gracchus was allowed but Five Pence Halfpenny a Day, when employed as Public Minister about the Public Affairs, and being at that time the greatest Man of Rome.   

CHAP. LIII. Of a Saying of Caesar.  
IF we would sometimes bestow a little Consideration upon ourselves, and employ the time we spend in prying into other men's Actions, and discovering things without us, in examining our own Abilities, we should soon perceive of how infirm and decaying Materials this Fabric of ours is composed. Is it not a singular testimony of Imperfection, that we cannot establish our satisfaction in any one thing, and that even our own Fancy and Desire, should deprive us of the power to choose what is most proper and useful for us? A very good proof of this, is the great Dispute that has ever been amongst the Philosophers, of finding out a Man's principal and sovereign Good, that continues yet, and will eternally continue, without Resolution, or Accord. 

— Dum abest quod avemus, id exuperare videtur, 
Lucret. l. 3.   
Caetera, post aliud cum contigit illud avemus,  
Et sitis aequa tenet.   

The absent thing we covet, best doth seem,  
The next that comes captivates our Esteem,  
At the same rate.   Whatever it is that falls into our knowledge and possession, we find that it satisfies not, and still pant after things to come, and unknown: By reason the present do not satiate and glut us, not that, in my judgement, they have not in them wherewith to do it, but because we seize them with an unruly and immoderate haste. 

Nam cum vidit hic ad victum quae flagitat usus, 
Lucret. l. 6.   
Et per quae possent vitam consistera tutam,  
Omnia jam firme mortalibus esse parata:  
Divitiis homines, & honore & laude potentes  
Affluere, atque bona natorum excellere fama,  
Nec minus esse domi cuiquam tamen anxia corda,  
Atque animum infestis cogi servire querelis:  
Intellexit ibi vitium vas facere ipsum,  
Omniaque illius vitio corrumpitur intus  
Quae collata foris, & commoda quaeque venirent.   

For when he saw all things that had regard,  
To Life's subsistence for Mankind prepared,  
That Men in Wealth and Honours did abound,  
Had hopeful Issue set their Tables round;  
And yet had Hearts as Anxious as before,  
Murmuring amidst their Happiness and Store:  
He than perceived the Vessel was to blame,  
And gave a smatch to all into it came,  
That thither from without him was conveyed,  
To have him Happy and Contented made.   Our Appetite is irresolute and fickle, it can neither keep nor enjoy any thing gracefully, and as it should: And Man concluding it to be the fault of the things he is possessed of, fills himself with, and feeds himself upon, the Idea of things he neither knows, nor understands, to which he devotes his hopes, and his desires, paying them all Reverence and Honour, according to the saying of Caesar, Communi fit vitio naturae, ut invisis latitantibus atque incognitis rebus magis confidamus, vehementiusque exterreamur. 'Tis the common Vice of Nature, that we repose most confidence, and receive the greatest apprehensions, from things unseen, concealed and unknown.   

CHAP. LIV. Of Vain Subtleties.  
THere are a sort of little Knacks, and frivolous Subtleties, from which Men sometimes expect to derive Reputation and Applause: As the Poets, who compose whole Poems, with every Line beginning with the same Letter: We see the shapes of Eggs, Globes, Wings and Hatchets, cut out by the Ancient Greeks, by the measure of their Verses, making them longer or shorter, to represent such or such a Figure. Of this nature was his Employment, who made it his business, to compute into how many several Orders the Letters of the Alphabet might be transposed, and found out that incredible number mentioned in Plutarch. I am mightily pleased with the humour of the Gentleman, who, having a Man brought before him, that had learned to throw a Grain of Millet with such dexterity and assurance, as never to miss the Eye of a Needle; and being afterwards entreated to give something for the reward of so rare a performance, he pleasantly, and in my opinion, ingeniously ordered a certain number of Bushels of the same Grain to be delivered to him, that he might not want wherewith to exercise so famous an Art. 'Tis a strong evidence of a weak Judgement, when Men approve of things for their being rare and new, or yet for the difficulty; where Virtue and Usefulness are not conjoined to recommend them. I come just now from playing with my own Family, at who could find out the most things, that had their principal force in their two Extremities; as, Sire, which is a Title given to the greatest person in the Nation, the King, and also to the Vulgar, as Merchants and Mechanics, but never to any degree of Men between. The Women of great Quality are called Madams, inferior Gentlewomen, Mademoiselles, and the meanest sort of Women, Madams, as the first. The Canopy of State over Tables are not permitted, but in the Palaces of Princes, and Taverns. Democritus said, that Gods and Beasts, had a more exact and perfect sense, than Men, who are of a middle Form. The Romans wore the same Habit at Funerals and Feasts; and it is most certain, that an extreme Fear, and an extreme Ardour of Courage, do equally trouble and lax the Belly. The Nickname of Trembling, with which they Surnamed Sancho the XII. King of Navarre, sufficiently informeth, that Valour will cause a trembling in the Limbs, as well as Fear. The Friends of that King, or of some other person, who upon the like occasion was wont to be in the same disorder, tried to compose him, by representing the danger less, he was going to engage himself in: You understand me ill, said he, for could my Flesh know the danger my Courage will presently carry it into, it would sink down to the ground. The faintness that surprises us from Frigidity, or dislike in the exercises of Venus, are also occasioned by a too violent desire, and an immoderate heat. Extreme Coldness, and extreme Heat, Boil and Roast. Aristotle says, that Sows of Lead will melt, and run with Cold, and the extremity of Winter, as with a vehement Heat. Desire and Satiety fill all the gradations above and below Pleasure with Grief. Brutality and Wisdom meet in the same Centre of Sentiment and Resolution, in the suffering of Humane Accidents; the Wise Control and Triumph over ill, the others know it not: These last are, as a Man may say, on this side of Accidents, the other are beyond them; who after having well weighed and considered their Qualities, measured and judged them what they are, by virtue of a vigorous Soul leap out of their reach. They disdain and trample them under foot, having a solid and well fortified Soul, against which the Darts of Fortune coming to strike, they must of necessity rebound, and blunt themselves, meeting with a Body upon which they can fix no Impression; the ordinary and middle condition of Men, are lodged betwixt these two Extremities, consisting of such, who perceive Evils, feel them, and are not able to support them. Infancy and Decrepitude meet in the imbecility of the Brain; Avarice and Profusion in the same thirst and desire of getting. A Man may say with some colour of truth, that there is an Abecedarian ignorance that precedes knowledge, and a Doctoral Ignorance that comes after it; an Ignorance that knowledge does create and beget, at the same time that she dispatches and destroys the first. Of mean understandings, little inquisitive, and little instructed, are made good Christians, who by reverence and obedience implicitly believe, and are constant in their belief. In the moderate understandings, and the middle sort of capacities, the error of Opinions is begot, and they have some colour of reason on their side, to impute our walking on in the old beaten path to simplicity, and brutishness, I mean in us who have not informed ourselves by Study. The higher, and nobler Souls, more solid and clear sighted, make up another sort of true believers: who by a long and Religious investigation of truth, have obtained a clearer, and more penetrating, light into the Scriptures, and have discovered the Mysterious and Divine secret of our Ecclesiastical Polity. And yet we see some, who by this middle step, are arrived to that supreme degree with marvellous Fruit, and Confirmation; as to the utmost limit of Christian intelligence, and enjoying their victory with great Spiritual consolation, humble acknowledgement of the Divine favour, exemplary reformation of manners, and Singular modesty. I do not intend with these to rank some others, who to clear themselves from all suspicion of their former Errors, and to satisfy us, that they are sound and firm to us, render themselves extreme indiscreet and unjust, in the carrying on our Cause, and by that means blemish it with infinite Reproaches of Violence and Oppression. The simple Peasants are good People, and so are the Philosophers: Men of strong and clear Reason, and whose Souls are enriched with an ample instruction of profitable Sciences. The Mongrets who have disdained the first form of the Ignorance of Letters, and have not been able to attain to the other, (sitting betwixt two Stools, as I, and a great many more of us do,) are dangerous, foolish and importunate; these are they that trouble the World. And therefore it is, that I, for my own part, retreat as much as I can towards my first and natural Station, from whence I so vainly attempted to advance. The vulgar and purely natural Poesy, has in it certain Proprieties and Graces, by which she may come into some comparison with the greatest Beauty of a Poesy perfected by Art: As is evident in our Gascon Villanels and Songs, that are brought us from Nations that have no knowledge of any manner of Science, nor so much as the use of Writing. The indifferent and middle sort of Poesy betwixt these two, is despised, of no Value, Honour or Esteem. But seeing that the Ice being once broken, and a Path laid open to the Fancy, I have found, as it commonly falls out, that what we make choice of for a rare and difficult Subject, proves to be nothing so, and that after the invention is once warm, it finds out an infinite number of parallel Examples, I shall only add this one; That were these Essays of mine considerable enough to deserve a Censure, it might then I think fall out, that they would not much take with common and vulgar Capacities, nor be very acceptable to the singular and excellent sort of Men, for the first would not understand them enough, and the last too much, and so they might hover in the middle Region.   

CHAP. LV. Of Smells.  
IT has been reported of others, as well as of Alexander the Great, that their Sweat exhaled an Odoriferous Smell, occasioned by some rare and extraordinary constitution, of which Plutarch, and others, have been inquisitive into the cause. But the ordinary constitution of Humane Bodies is quite otherwise, and their best and chiefest Excellency, is to be exempt from Smells: Nay, the sweetness even of the purest Breathes, has nothing in it of greater perfection, than to be without any offensive Smell, like those of healthful Children: which made Plautus say, 


Plaut. Mostel. Art. 1. Sce. 3.  Mulier tum bene olet, ubi nihil olet.   

That Woman we a sweet one call,  
Whose Body breathes no Scent at all.   And such as make use of these exatick Perfumes, are with good reason to be suspected of some Natural Imperfection, which they endeavour by these Odours to conceal, according to that of Mr. Johnson, which, without offence to Monsieur de Montaigne, I will here presume to insert, it being at least as well said, as any of those he quotes out of the Ancient Poets, 

Ben. Johnson.  Still to be Neat, still to be Dressed,  
As you were going to a Feast,  
Still to be Powdered, still Perfumed:  
Lady it is to be presumed  
Though Arts hid causes are not found,  
All is not sweet, all is not sound.  As may be judged by these following, 

Rides nos Coracime nil olentes:  

Martial li. 6. Ep. 55.  Malo quam bene olere, nil olere.   

Because thou Coracinus still dost go  
With Musk and Ambergris perfumed so,  
We under thy Contempt, forsooth, must fall;  
I'd rather than smell sweet, not smell at all.   And elsewhere, 

Posthume non bene olet, qui bene semper olet. 
Id. lib. 2. Ep. 12.    

He does not Naturally Smell well,  
Who always of Perfumes does Smell.   I am nevertheless a strange lover of good Smells, and as much abominate the ill ones, which also I reach at a greater distance, I think, than other Men: 

Namque sagacius unus odoror, 
Hor. Ep. 12.   
Polypus, an gravis hirsutis cubet hircus in alis,  
Quam canis acer ubi lateat sus.   

For I can Smell a Putrid Polypus,  
Or the Rank Armpits of a Redhaired Fuss,  
As soon as best Nosed Hound, the stinking Sty,  
Where the Wild Boar does in the Forest Lie.   Of Smells, the simple and natural seem to be most pleasing. Let the Ladies look to that, for 'tis chiefly their concern. In the wildest parts of Barbary, the Scythian Women, after Bathing, were wont to Powder and Crust their Faces, and whole Bodies, with a certain Odoriferous Drug, growing in their own Territories; which being cleansed off, when they came to have familiarity with Men, they were found Perfumed and Sleek: 'Tis not to be believed, how strangely all sorts of Odours cleave to me, and how apt my Skin is to imbibe them. He that complains of Nature, that she has not furnished Mankind with a Vehicle to convey Smells to the Nose, had no reason; for they will do it themselves; especially to me: My very Mustachio's perform that Office; for if I stroke them but with my Gloves, or Handkerchief, the Smell will not out a whole Day: They will Reproach me where I have been; the close, luscious, devouring and melting Kisses of Youthful Ardour, would in my Wanton Age have left a Sweetness upon my Lips for several Hours after. And yet I have ever found myself very little subject to Epidemic Diseases, that are caught, either by conversing with the Sick, or bred by the contagion of the Air; I have very well escaped from those of my time, of which there has been several Virulent sorts in our Cities and Armies. We Read of Socrates, that though he never departed from Athens, during the frequent Plagues that infested that City, he only was never Infected. Physicians might (I believe,) if they would extract greater Utility from Odours, than they do; for I have often observed, that they cause an alteration in me, and work upon my Spirits according to their several Virtues; which makes me approve of what is said, namely, that the use of Incense and Perfumes in Churches, so Ancient, and so universally received in all Nations, and Religions, was intended to cheer us, and to rouse and purify the Senses, the better to fit us for Contemplation. I could have been glad, the better to judge of it, to have tasted the Culinary Art of those Cooks, who had so rare a way of Seasoning Exatick Odours with the relish of Meats; As it was particularly observed in the Service of the King of Tunis, who in our Days Landed at Naples, to have an interview with Charles the Emperor, where his Dishes were far●'d with Odoriferous Drugs, to that degree of Expense, that the Cookery of one Peacock, and two Pheasants, amounted to a Hundred Ducats, to dress them after their Fashion. And when the Carver came to break them up, not only the Dining-room, but all the Apartments of his Palace, and the adjoining Streets were filled with an Aromatic Vapour, which did not presently vanish. My chiefest care in choosing my Lodgings, is always to avoid a thick and stinking Air; and those Beautiful Cities of Venice and Paris, have very much lessened the Kindness I had for them, the one by the offensive Smell of her Marshes, and the other of her Dirt.   

CHAP. LVI. Of Prayers.  
I proprose formless and undermined Fancies, like those who publish subtle Questions, to be after disputed upon in the Schools, not to Establish truth, but to seek it: I submit them to the better Judgements of those, whose Office it is to regulate, not my Writings and Actions only, but moreover my very Thoughts and Opinions. Let what I here set down meet with Correction or Applause, it shall be of equal welcome and utility to me, myself before hand condemning it for Absurd and Impious, if any thing shall be found through Ignorance or Inadvertency, couched in this Rhapsody contrary to the Resolutions and Prescriptions of the Roman Catholic Church, into which I was Born, and in which I will Die. And yet, always submitting to the Authority of their Censure, who have an Absolute Power over me, I thus Timerariously venture at every thing, as upon this present Subject.  
I know not, if, or no, I am deceived; but since by a particular favour of the Divine Bounty, a certain Form of Prayer has been prescribed and dictated to us, Word by Word, from the Mouth of God himself, I have ever been of Opinion, that we ought to have it in more frequent use, than we yet have, and if I were worthy to advise, at the sitting down to, and rising from our Tables, at our rising, and going to Bed, and in every particular Action, wherein Prayer is required, I would that Christians always make use of the Lord's Prayer, if not alone, yet at least always. The Church may lengthen, or alter Prayers, according to the necessity of our Instruction, for I know very well, that it is always the same in substance, and the same thing: But yet such a preferrence ought to be given to that Prayer, that the People should have it continually in their Mouths; for it is most certain, that all necessary Petitions are comprehended in it, and that it is infinitely proper for all Occasions. 'Tis the only Prayer I use in all Places and Conditions, and what I still repeat instead of changing; whence it also happens, that I have no other by Heart, but that only. It just now comes into my Mind, from whence we should derive that Error of having recourse to God in all our Designs and Erterprises, to call him to our Assistance in all sorts of Affairs, and in all Places where our Weakness stands in need of support, without considering whether the occasion be just, or otherwise, and to Invoke his Name and Power, in what Estate soever we are, or Action we are engaged in, how Vicious soever: He is indeed our sole and only Protector, and can do all things for us: But though he is pleased to Honour us with his Paternal Care, he is notwithstanding, as Just, as he is Good and Mighty, and does ofter exercise his Justice, than his Power, and favours us according to that, and not according to our Petitions. Plato in his Laws, makes Three sorts of Belief Injurious to the Gods; That there is none; That they concern not themselves about Humane Affairs; and that they never reject or deny any thing to our Vows, Offerings and Sacrifices. The first of these Errors (according to his Opinion,) did never continue rooted in any Man, from his Infancy to his Old Age, the other two he confesses, Men might be Obstinate in. God's Justice and his Power are inseparable, and therefore in vain we Invoke his Power in an Unjust Cause: We are to have our Souls pure and clean, at that Moment at least, wherein we Pray to him, and purified from all Vicious Passions, otherwise we ourselves present him the Rods wherewith to Chastise us. Instead of repairing any thing we have done amiss, we double the Wickedness and the Offence, whilst we offer to him, to whom we are to sue for Pardon, an Affection full of Irreverence and Hatred. Which makes me not very apt to applaud those whom I observe to be so frequent on their Knees, if the Actions nearest of Kin to Prayer, do not give me some Evidence of Reformation. 

— Si Nocturnus adulter 
Juven. Sat. 8.   
Tempora Sanctonica velas adoperta Cucullo.   

With Night-Adulteries, if being foul,  
Thou shad'st thy guilty Forehead with a Cowl.   And the Practice of a Man, that mixes Devotion with an Execrable Life, seems in some sort more to be Condemned, than that of a Man conformable to his own Propension, and Dissolute throughout: And for that Reason, it is, that our Church denies Admittance to, and Communion with Men Obstinate and Incorrigible in any kind of Impiety. We Pray only by custom, and for fashion's sake, or rather, we read and pronounce our Prayers aloud, which is no better than an Hypocritical show of Devotion: And I am scandalised, to see a Man Cross himself Thrice at the Benedicite, and as often, at another's saying Grace, (and the more, because it is a Sign I have in great Veneration, and constant use upon solemn occasions,) and to Dedicate all the other Hours of the Day to Acts of Malice, Avarice and Injustice. One Hour to God, the rest to the Devil, as if by Commutation and Consent. 'Tis a wonder to me, Actions so various in themselves, succeed one another with such an Uniformity of Method, as not to interfere, nor suffer any alteration▪ even upon the very Confines and Passes from the one to the other. What a Prodigious Conscience must that be, that can be at Quiet within itself, whilst it harbours under the same Roof, with so agreeing and so calm a Society, both the Crime and the Judge? A Man whose whole Meditation is continually working upon nothing but Impurity, which he knows to be so Odious to Almighty God, what can he say, when he comes to speak to him? He Reforms, but immediately falls into a Relapse. If the Object of the Divine Justice, and the Presence of his Maker, did, as he pretends, Strike and Chastise his Soul, how short soever the Repentance might be, the very fear of offending that Infinite Majesty, would so often present itself to his Imagination, that he would soon see himself Master of those Vices, that are most Natural and Habitual in him. But what shall we say of those, who settle their whole course of Life, upon the Profit and Emolument of Sins, which they know to be Mortal? How many Trades and Vocations have we admitted and countenanced amongst us, whose very Essence is Vicious? And he that confessing himself to me, voluntarily told me, that he had all his Life time professed and practised a Religion, in his Opinion Damnable, and contrary to that he had in his Heart, only to preserve his Credit, and the Honour of his Employments, how could his Courage suffer so Infamous a Confession? What can Men say to the Divine Justice upon this subject? Their Repentance consisting in a visible and manifest Reformation and Restitution, they lose the colour of alleging it both to God and Man. Are they so Impudent, as to sue for Remission, without Satisfaction, and without Penitency, or Remorse? I look upon these as in the same condition with the first: But the Obstinacy is not there so easy to be overcome. This contrariety and volubility of Opinion, so sudden and violent as they pretend, is a kind of Miracle to me. They present us with the state of an indegestible Anxiety, and doubtfulness of Mind. It seemed to me a Fantastic and Ridiculous Imagination in those, who these late Years past, were wont to Reproach every Man they knew to be of any extraordinary Parts, and made profession of the Roman Catholic Religion, that it was but outwardly, maintaining moreover, to do him Honour forsooth, that whatever he might pretend to the contrary, he could not but in his Heart, be of their Reformed Opinion. An untoward Disease, that a Man should be so Riveted to his own Belief, as to fancy, that others cannot believe otherwise, than as he does: And yet worse in this, that they should entertain so Vicious an Opinion of such parts, as to think any Man so Qualified, should prefer any present advantage of Fortune, before the promises of Eternal Life, and the means of Eternal Damnation. They may believe me: Could any thing have tempted my Youth, the Ambition of the danger and difficulties in the late Commotions, had not been the least Motives.  
It is not without very good Reason, in my Opinion, that the Church Interdicts the Promiscuous, Indiscreet and Irreverent use of the Holy and Divine Psalms, with which the Holy Ghost Inspired King David. We ought not to mix God in our Actions, but with the highest Reverence and Caution. That Poesy is too Sacred, to be put to no other use, than to exercise the Lungs, and to delight our Ears. It ought to come from the Soul, and not from the Tongue. It is not fit that a Apprentice in his Shop, amongst his vain and frivolous Thoughts, should be permitted to pass away his time, and divert himself, with such Sacred things. Neither is it decent to see the Holy Bible, the Rule of our Worship and Belief, tumbled up and down a Hall, or a Kitchin. They were formerly Mysteries, but are now become Sports and Recreations. 'Tis a Book too Serious, and too Venerable, to be cursorily or slightly turned over. The Reading of the Scripture ought to be a temperate and premeditated Act, and to which Men should always add this Devout Preface, Sursum Corda, preparing even the Body to so humble and composed a Gesture and Countenance, as shall evidence their Veneration and Attention. Neither is it a Book for every one to fist, but the Study of Select Men set apart for that purpose, and whom Almighty God has been pleased to call to that Office, and Sacred Function: The Wicked and Ignorant, Blemish and Deprave it. 'Tis not a Story to tell, but a History to fear and adore. Are not they then pleasant Men, who think they have rendered this fit for the People's handling, by Translating it into the Vulgar Tongue? Does the Understanding of all therein contained, only stick at Words? Shall I venture to say further, that by coming so near to understand a little, they are much wider of the whole scope than before. A total Ignorance, and wholly depending upon the Exposition of other Qualified Persons, was more knowing and salutiferous, than this vain and verbal knowledge, which has only proved the Nurse of Temerity and Presumption. And I do further believe, that the liberty every one has taken, to disperse the Sacred Writ into so many Idioms, carries with it a great deal more of Danger, than Utility. The Jews, Mahometans, and almost all others, have Espoused and Reverence the Language wherein their Laws and Mysteries were first conceived, and have expressly, and not without colour of reason, forbid the version or alteration of them, into any other. Are we assured, that in Biscay, and in Britain, there are enough competent Judges of this affair, to Establish this Translation into their own Language? Why, the Universal Church has not a more difficult and solemn Judgement to make. One of our Greek Historians does justly accuse the Age he Lived in, for that the Secrets of Christian Religion were dispersed into the Hands of every Mechanic, to Expound and Argue upon, according to his own Fancy; and that we ought to be much ashamed, we who by God's especial favour, enjoy the purest Mysteries of Piety, to suffer them to be Profaned by the Ignorant Rabble; considering, that the Gentiles expressly forbade Socrates, Plato, and the other Sages, to inquire into, or so much as to mention the things committed only to the Priests of Delphos; saying moreover, that the Factions of Princes, upon Theological accounts, are not Armed with Zeal, but Fury; that Zeal springs from the Divine Wisdom and Justice, and governs itself with Prudence and Moderation; but degenerates into Hatred and Envy, producing Tares and Nettles, instead of Corn and Wine, when conducted by Humane Passions. And it was truly said of another, who advising the Emperor Theodosius, and told him, that Disputes did not so much Rock the Schisms of the Church a sleep, as it Roused and Animated Heresies. That therefore all Contentions, and Logical Disputations, were to be avoided, and Men absolutely to Acquiess in the Prescriptions and Formulas of Faith, Established by the Ancients. And the Emperor Androricus having overheard some great Men at high words in his Palace with Lapodius, about a Point of ours of great Importance, gave them so severe a Check, as to threaten to cause them to be thrown into the River, if they did not desist. The very Women and Children now adays, take upon them to Document the Oldest and most Experienced Men about the Ecclesiastical Laws: Whereas the first of those of Plato, forbids them to inquire so much as into the Civil Laws; which were to stand instead of Divine Ordinances. And allowing the Old Men to confer amongst themselves, or with the Magistrate, about those things, he adds, provided it be not in the presence of Young or Profane Persons. A Bishop has left in Writing, that at the other end of the World, there is an Isle, by the Ancients called Dioscorides, abundantly Fertile in all sorts of Trees and Fruits, and of an exceeding Healthful Air: The Inhabitants of which are Christians, having Churches and Altars, only adorned with Crucifixes, without any other Images, great Observers of Fasts and Feasts: Exact payers of their Tyths to the Priests, and so chaste, that none of them is permitted to have to do with more than one Woman in his Life. As to the rest, so content with their condition, that environed with the Sea, they know nothing of Navigation, and so simple, that they understand not one Syllable of the Religion they profess, and wherein they are so Devout. A thing incredible to such as do not know, that the Pagans, who are so Zealous Idolaters, know nothing more of their Gods, than their bare Names and their Statues. The Ancient beginning of Menalippus, a Tragedy of Euripedes, ran thus, 
Jupiter, for that Name alone,  
Of what thou art, to me is known.  I have also known in my time some Men's Writings found fault with, for being purely Humane and Philosophical, without any mixture of Divinity; and yet whoever should on the contrary say, that Divine Doctrine, as Queen and Regent of the rest, better, and with greater Decency, keeps her State apart: What, she ought to be Sovereign throughout, not Subsidiary and Suffragan: And that peradventure, Grammatical, Rhetorical and Logical Examples, may elsewhere be more suitably chosen, as also the Arguments for the Stage, and Public Entertainments, than from so Sacred a matter: That Divine Reasons are considered with greater Veneration and Attention, when by themselves, and in their own proper Style, than when mixed with, and adapted to Humane Discourses. That it is a fault much more often observed, that the Divines Write too Humanely, than that the Humanists Write not Theologically enough: Philosophy, says St. chrysostom, has long been Banished the Holy Schools, as an Handmaid, altogether useless, and thought unworthy to peep, so much as in passing by the Door, into the Sacrifice of the Divine Doctrine. And that the Humane way of speaking is of a much lower form, and ought not to serve herself with the Dignity and Majesty of Divine Eloquence. I say, whoever on the contrary should Object all this, would not be without reason on his side. Let who will Verbis Indisciplinatis, talk of Fortune, Destiny, Accident, Good and Evil Hap, and other such like Phrases, according to his own Humour; I for my part, propose Fancies merely Humane, and merely my own, and that simply, as Humane Fancies, and separately considered, not as determined by any Arrest from Heaven; or incapable of Doubt, or Dispute. Matter of Opinion, not matter of Faith. Things which I discourse of according to my own Capacity, not what I believe according to God; which also I do after a Laical, not Clerical, and yet always after a very Religious manner. And it were as Rational to affirm, that an Edict, enjoining all People, but such as are Public Professors of Divinity, to be very reserved in Writing of Religion, would carry with it a very good colour of Utility and Justice, and me, amongst the rest, to hold my prating. I have been told, that even those who are not of our Church, do nevertheless amongst themselves, expressly forbid the Name of God to be used in common Discourse: Not so much as by way of Interjection, Exclamation, Assertion of a Truth, or Comparison, and I think them in the right. And upon what occasion soever we call upon God, to accompany and assist us, it ought always to be done with the greatest Reverence and Devotion. There is, as I remember, a passage in Xenophon, where he tells us, that we ought so much the more seldom to call upon God, by how much it is hard to compose our Souls to such a degree of Calmness, Penitency and Devotion, as it ought to be in at such time, otherwise our Prayers are not only vain and fruitless, but Vicious in themselves. Forgive us (we say) our Trespasses, as we forgive them that Trespass against us. What do we mean by this Petition, but that we present him a Soul free from all Rancour and Revenge? And yet we make nothing of Imvoking God's Assistance in our Vices, and inviting him into our unjust Designs. 

Quae nisi seductis nequeas committere divis. 
Perse. Sat. ●▪    

Which only to the Gods apart,  
Thou hast the Impudence t' impart.   The Covetous Man Prays for the conservation of his superfluous, and peradventure, ill got Riches; the Ambitious for Victory, and the Conduct of his Fortune; the Thief calls God to his Assistance, to deliver him from the Dangers and Difficulties that obstruct his Wicked Designs: Or returns him thanks for the Facility he has met with in Robbing a poor Peasant. At the Door of the House they are going to Storm, or break into by force of a Petard, they fall to Prayers for success, having their Instruction and Hopes full of Cruelty, Avarice and Lust. 

Hoc ipsum quo tu Jovis aurem impellere tentas,  

〈◊〉. Ibid.  Dic agedum, Staio, proh, Jupiter, o bone, clamet,  
Jupiter, at sese non clamet Jupiter ipse.   

The Prayers with which thou dost assault Jove's Ear,  
Repeat to Staius, whom thou soon wilt hear.  
O Jupiter, good Jupiter, Exclaim:  
But Jupiter Exclaims not;   Marguarette Queen of Navarre, tells of a Young Prince, (whom though she does not name, is easily enough by his great Quality to be known,) who going upon an Amorous Assignation to Lie with an Advocate's Wife of Paris, his way thither being through a Church, he never passed that Holy place, going to, or returning from, this Godly Exercise, but he always Kneeled down to Pray; wherein he would employ the Divine Favour, his Soul being full of such Virtuous Meditations, I leave others to judge, which nevertheless she instances, for a Testimony of singular Devotion. But it is by this proof only, that a Man may conclude▪ no Man not very fit to treat of Theological Affairs. A true Prayer, and Religious reconciling of ourselves to Almighty God, cannot enter into an impure Soul, and at the very instant subjected to the very Dominion of Satan. He who calls God to his Assistance, whilst in a Habit of Vice, does, as if a Cutpurse should call a Magistrate to help him, or like those who introduce the Name of God to the Attestation of a Lie. 

— Tacito mala vota susurro Concipimus. 
Lucan. l. 5.    

In Whispers we do guilty Prayers make.   There are few Men who durst Publish to the World the Prayers they make to Almighty God. 

Haud cuivis promptum est, murmurque humilesque susurros 
Perseus. Sat. 2.   
Tollere de Templis, & aperto vivere voto.   

'Tis not convenient for every one  
To bring the Prayer he mutters over there,  
Out of the Temple to the public Ear.   And ●h●s is the reason why the Pythagoreans would have them always Public, to be heard by every one, to the end they might not prefer indecent or unjust Petitions, as he did, who having 


Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 10. — Clare cum dixit, Apollo,  
Labra movet metuens audiri: pulcra Laverna  
Da mihi fallere, da justum, sanctumque videri.  
Noctem peccatis & fraudibus objice nubem.   

Apollo's Name pronounced aloud: for fear  
Any his Orisons should overhear,  
Mustered betwixt his Teeth, Laverna great,  
Grant me the Talon to Deceive and Cheat  
All I shall have to do with every where,  
Yet all the while, Holy and Just appear,  
And from the sight of Men, be pleased to Shroud,  
My Sins with Night, Frauds with a Sable Cloud.   The God did severely punish the Wicked Prayers of Oedipus, in granting them: He had Prayed, that his Children might amongst themselves Determine the Succession to his Throne by Arms; and was so miserable, as to see himself taken at his word. We are not to Pray, that all things may go as we would have them, but as is most conducing to the good of the World; and we are not in our Prayers to Obey our Wills, but Prudence. We seem, in truth, to make use of our Prayers, as of a kind of Gibberish, and as those do who employ Holy Words about Sorceries and Magical Operations: And as if we made account, the benefit we are to reap from them, depended upon the contexture, sound and jingle of Words, or upon the composing of the Countenance. For having the Soul contaminated with Concupiscence, not touched with Repentance, or comforted by any late Reconciliation with Almighty God, we go to present him such Words as the Memory suggests to the Tongue, and hope from thence to obtain the Remission of our Sins. There is nothing so easy, so sweet, and so favourable, as the Divine Law: She calls and invites us to her, Guilty and Abominable as we are: Extends her Arms, and receives us into her Bosom, as foul and polluted as we at present are, and are for the future to be. But then in return, we are to look upon her with a respective, and a graceful Eye, we are to receive this Pardon with all imaginable gratitude and submission, and, for that instant at least, wherein we Address ourselves to her, to have the Soul sensible of the ills we have committed, and at defiance with those Passions, that seduced her to offend, for neither the Gods, nor Good Men, (says Plato,) will accept the present of a Wicked Man.  


Hor. l. 3. Ode. 23.  Immunis aram si tetigit manus,  
Non sumptuosa blandior hostia  
Mollivit aversos Penates,  
far pio, & salienta mica.   

The pious Offering of a piece of Bread,  
If by a pure Hand on the Altar laid,  
Than Costly Hecatombs, will better please  
Th' offended Gods, and their just Wrath appease.    

CHAP. LVII. Of Age.  
I Cannot allow of the proportion we settle upon ourselves, and the space we allot to the duration of Life. I see that the Wise contract it very much, in comparison of the common Opinion. What (said the Younger Cato to those who would stay his Hand from Killing himself,) am I now of an Age to be Reproached, that I go out of the World too soon? And yet he was but Eight and Forty Years Old. He thought that to be a mature and competent Age, considering how few arrive unto it, and such, as soothing their Thoughts with I know not what course of Nature, promise to themselves some Years beyond it, could they be privileged from the infinite number of Accidents, to which we are by a natural subjection exposed, might have some Reason so to do. What an Idle Conceit it is, to expect to Die of a decay of Strength, which is the last of effects of the extremest Age, and to propose to ourselves no shorter lease of Life than that, considering it is a kind of Death of all others the most rare, and very hardly seen? We call that only a Natural Death, as if it were contrary to Nature, to see a Man break his Neck with a Fall, be Drowned in Shipwreck at Sea; or snatched away with a Pleurisy, or the Plague, and, as if our ordinary condition of Life did not expose us to these Inconveniences. Let us no more flatter ourselves with these fine sounding Words: We ought rather, at a venture, to call that Natural, which is Common and Universal. To Die of Old Age, is a Death rare, extraordinary and singular, and therefore so much less Natural, than the others: 'Tis the last and extremest sort of Dying: And the more remote, the less to be hoped for. It is indeed the Boundary of Life, beyond which we are not to pass: Which the Law of Nature has pitched for a Limit, not to be exceeded: But it is withal a Privilege she is rarely seen to give us to last till then. 'Tis a Lease she only Signs by particular savour, and it may be, to one only, in the space of two or three Ages; and then with a Pass to boot, to carry him through all the Traverses and Difficulties she has strewed in the way of this long Career. And therefore my Opinion is, that when once Forty Years Old, we should consider it is as an Age to which very few arrive: For seeing that Men do not usually proceed so far, it is a sign that we are pretty well advanced, and since we have exceeded the ordinary Bounds, which make the just measure of Life, we ought not to expect to go much further; having escaped so many Precipices of Death, whereinto we have seen so many other Men to fall, we should acknowledge, that so extraordinary a Fortune, as that which has hitherto rescued us from those Eminent Perils, and kept us alive beyond the ordinary term of Living, is not likely to continue long. 'Tis a fault in our very Laws, to maintain this Error, That a Man is not capable of managing his own Estate, till he be Five and Twenty Years Old, whereas he will have much ado to manage his Life so long. Augustus' cut off Five Years from the Ancient Roman Standard, and declared, that Thirty Years Old was sufficient for a Judg. Survius Tullius superseded the Knights of above Seven and Forty Years of Age, from the Fatigues of War: Augustus dismissed them at Forty Five: Though methinks it seems a little unlikely, that Men should be sent to the Fireside, till Five and Fifty, or Sixty Years of Age. I should be of Opinion, that both our Vacancy and Employment, should be as far as possible extended for the Public Good: But I find the fault on the other side, that they do not employ us Early enough. This Emperor was Arbiter of the whole World at Nineteen, and yet would have a Man to be Thirty, before he could be fit to bear Office in the Commonwealth. For my part I believe, our Souls are Adult at Twenty, such as they are ever like to be, and as capable then as ever. A Soul that has not by that time given evident earnest of its Force and Virtue, will never after come to proof. Natural Parts and Excellencies produce, that they have of Vigorous and Fine, within that Term, or never.  
Of all the great Humane Actions I ever Herd, or Read of, of what sort soever, I have Observed, both in former Ages, and our own, more performed before the Age of Thirty, than after: And ofttimes in the very Lives of the same Men. May I not confidently instance in those of Hannibal, and his great concurrent Scipio? The better half of their Lives, they Lived upon the Glory they had Acquired in their Youth; great Men after, 'tis true, in comparison of others; but by no means, in comparison of themselves. As to my own particular, I do certainly believe, that since that Age, both my Understanding, and my Constitution, have rather decayed, than improved, and retired, rather than advanced. 'Tis possible, that with those who make the best use of their Time, Knowledge and Experience may grow up and increase with their Years; but the Vivacity, Quickness and Steadiness, and other pieces of us, of much greater Importance, and much more Essentially our own, Languish and Decay. 

— Vbi jam validis quassatum est viribus aevi. 
Lucret. l. 3.   
Corpus, & obstusis ceciderunt viribus artus,  
Claudicat ingenium, delirat linquaque mensque.   

When once the Body's shaken by Time's Rage,  
The Blood and Vigour Ebbing into Age,  
The Judgement than Halts upon either Hip,  
The Mind does Dote, Tongue into Nonsense Trip.   Sometimes the Body first submits to Age, sometimes the Soul, and I have seen enough, who have got a Weakness in their Brains, before either in their Hams, or Stomach: And by how much the more, it is a Disease of no great pain to the infected Party, and of obscure Symptoms, so much greater the danger is. And for this reason it is, that I complain of our Laws, not that they keep us too long to our Work, but that they set us to work too late. For the Frailty of Life considered, and to how many Natural and Accidental Rubs it is Obnoxious and Exposed: Birth, though Noble, ought not to share so large a Vacancy, and so tedious a course of Education.   
The End of the First Book.   


MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE.   
Printed for T. Bassett M. Gillyflower & W. Hensman.   

ESSAYS OF MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE.  
In Three Books.  
With Marginal Notes and Quotations of the cited Authors.  
New rendered into English, By CHARLES COTTON Esq  
The Second Volume.  
LONDON, Printed for T. Basset, at the George in Fleetstreet, and M. Gillyflower and W. Hensman, in Westminster-Hall. 1686.   

THE CONTENTS OF THE CHAPTERS OF THE Second Book.  

Chap. 1. OF the Inconstancy of our Actions. Pag. 1  
Chap. 2. Of Drunkenness. 14  
Chap. 3. The Custom of the Isle of Cea. 30  
Chap. 4. To Morrow's a new Day. 55  
Chap. 5. Of Conscience. 59  
Chap. 6. Use makes Perfectness. 66  
Chap. 7. Of Recompenses of Honour. 84  
Chap. 8. Of the Affection of Fathers to their Children. 90  
Chap. 9 Of the Arms of the Parthians. 123  
Chap. 10. Of Books. 129  
Chap. 11. Of Cruelty. 151  
Chap. 12. Apology for Raimond de Sebonde. 159  
Chap. 13. Of Judging of the Death of another. 435  
Chap. 14. That the Mind hinders itself. p. 446  
Chap. 15. That our Desires are augmented by Difficulties. 447  
Chap. 16. Of Glory. 457  
Chap. 17. Of Presumption. 479  
Chap. 18. Of Giving the Lye. 532  
Chap. 19 Of Liberty of Conscience. 540  
Chap. 20. That we taste nothing pure. 546  
Chap. 21. Against Idleness. 551  
Chap. 22. Of Posts. 558  
Chap. 23. Of ill Means employed to a good End. 560  
Chap. 24. Of the Roman Grandeur. 566  
Chap. 25. Not to counterfeit being sick. 569  
Chap. 26. Of Thumbs. 572  
Chap. 27. Cowardice the Mother of Cruelty. 574  
Chap. 28. All Things have their Season. 589  
Chap. 29. Of Virtue. 593  
Chap. 30. Of a monstrous Child. 605  
Chap. 31. Of Anger. 607  
Chap. 32. Defence of Seneca and Plutarch. 619  
Chap. 33. The Story of Spurina. 630  
Chap. 34. Observation of the Means to carry on a War according to Julius Caesar. 642  
Chap. 35. Of three good Women. 656  
Chap. 36. Of the most excellent Men. 668  
Chap. 37. Of the Resemblance of Children to their Fathers. 680    

ESSAYS OF Michael Seigneur de Montaigne.  
The Second Book.  

CHAP. I. Of the Inconstancy of our Actions.  
SUch, as make it their business to control humane Actions, do not find themselves in any thing so much perplexed, as to reconcile them, and bring them into the World's eye with the same Lustre and Reputation; for they do commonly so strangely contradict one another, that it seems impossible they should proceed from one and the same Person. We find the younger Marius one while a Son of Mars, and another the Son of Venus. Pope Boniface the Eighth entered (says one) into his Papacy like a Fox, behaved himself in it like a Lion, and died like a Dog. And who could believe it to be the same Nero, the perfect Image of all Cruelty, who, having the Sentence of a condemned man brought to him to Sign, cried out, O, that I had never been taught to Write. So much it went to his heart to condemn a man to Death. All Story is full of such Examples, and every man is able to produce so many to himself, or out of his own practice, or observation, 
Irresolution the most common Vice of our Nature.  that I sometimes wonder to see men of understanding give themselves the trouble of sorting these pieces, considering that irresolution appears to me to be the most common and manifest Vice of our Nature; Witness the famous Verse of the Player Publius, 


Aulus Gel. ex Pub. Min.  Malum consilium est, quod mutari non potest.   

That Counsels ill, that will admit no change.    
There is some possibility of forming a judgement of a man from the most usual methods of his life; 
Instability of our manners and opinions.  but, considering the natural Instability of our manners and opinions, I have often thought even the best Authors a little out, in so obstinately endeavouring to make of us any constant and solid Contexture. They choose a general Air of a man, and according to that interpret all his Actions, of which, if some be so stiff and stubborn, that they cannot bend or writh them to any uniformity with the rest, they are presently imputed to dissimulation. Augustus has escaped them, 
Augustus.  for there was in him so apparent, sudden, and continual variety of Actions, all the whole course of his life, that he is slipped away clear and undecided from the most hardy Censurers. I am more hardly induced to believe a man's Constancy than any other Virtue, and believe nothing sooner than the contrary. It is a hard matter, out of all Antiquity, to pick out a dozen men, who have formed their lives to one certain and constant course, which is the principal design of Wisdom: For to comprise it all in one word, (says one of the Ancients) and to contract all the Rules of humane life into one, it is to Will, and not to Will always one and the same thing: I will not vouchsafe, says he to add, provided the Will be just, for if it be not just, it is impossible it should be always one. I have indeed formerly learned, That Vice is nothing but Irregularity and want of measure, and therefore 'tis impossible to fix constancy to it. 'Tis a saying of Demosthenes, That the beginning of all virtue is consultation and deliberation, the end and perfection, constancy. If we would resolve on any certain course upon mature advice, we should pitch upon the best, but no body has thought on't.  


Hor. l. 1. G. 1.  Quod petiit, spernit, repetit quod nuper omisit,  
Aestuat, & vitae disconvenit ordine toto.   

He now despises, what he late did crave,  
And what he last neglected, now would have:  
He fluctuates, and flies from that to this,  
And his whole life a Contradiction is.   
Our ordinary practice is, to follow the inclinations of our appetite, be it to the left or right, upwards or downwards, according as we are wafted by the breath of occasion. We never meditate what we would have, till the instant we have a mind to have it; and change like that little Creature, that receives its colour from what it is laid upon. What we but just now propose to ourselves, we immediately alter, and presently return again to the first; 'tis nothing but shifting, and inconstancy: 


Id. lib. 2. Sat. 7.  Ducimur ut nervis alienis mobile lignum.   

Like Tops with leathern Thongs we're scourged about.   We do not go, we are driven; like things that float, now leisurely, then with violence, according to the gentleness, or rapidity of the Current. 

— nun videmus, 
Lucret. lib. 3.   
Quid sibi quisque velit nescire, & quaerere semper,  
Commutare locum quasi onus deponere possit?   

See we not, up and down men daily troth  
For something they would have, but know not what:  
Shifting from place to place, as here or there,  
They could set down the burden of their care.   Every day a new whimsy, and our humours keep motion with the time. 

Tales sunt hominum mentes, 
Cicero.  quali pater ipse  
Juppiter auctifero lustravit lumine terras.   

Such are the motions of th' inconstant Soul,  
As are the days, and weather, fair or foul.   We fluctuate betwixt various inclinations; we Will nothing freely, nothing absolutely, nothing constantly. In any one, that had prescribed and established determinate Laws and Rules in his head for his own conduct, we should perceive an equality of manners, an order, and an infallible relation of one thing, or action, to another, shine through his whole life, (Empedocles observed this discrepancy in the Agregentines, that they gave themselves up to delights, as if every day was their last, and built, as if they had been to live for ever) and the judgement would not be hard to make. As is very evident in the person of the younger Cato, who has found one step, it will lead him to all the rest: 'tis a harmony of very according sounds, that cannot jar, nor deceive the ear. But with us 'tis quite contrary, every particular Action requires a particular Judgement, wherein the surest way to steer, in my opinion, would be to take our measures from the nearest allied Circumstances, without engaging in a longer inquisition, or without concluding any other consequence. I was told, during the civil disorders of our poor Kingdom, that a Maid, hard by the place where I than was, had thrown herself out of a window, to avoid being forced by a common Soldier, that was quartered in the house: She was not killed by the fall, and therefore redoubling her attempt, would have cut her own Throat, had she not been prevented; but having nevertheless wounded herself to some show of danger, she voluntarily confessed, that the Soldier had not as yet importuned her otherwise than by Courtship, 
A Maid threw herself out of a window for fear of a Rape.  earnest Solicitation, and such little Presents as he was able to procure; but that she was afraid, that in the end he would have proceeded to violence, all which she delivered with such a countenance and accent, and withal imbrued in her own blood, the highest Testimony of her virtue, that she appeared another Lucretia; and yet I have since been very well assured, that, both before and after, she was not so difficult a piece. And, according to my Hosts tale in Ariosto, be as handsome a man, and as fine a Gentleman as you will, do not conclude too much upon your Mistresses inviolable Chastity, for having been repulsed; you do not know but she may have a better stomach to your Muletteer.  
Antigonus, having taken one of his Soldiers into a great degree of favour and esteem, for his Virtue and Valour, gave his Physicians strict charge to cure him of a long and inward disease under which he had a great while languished; and observing that after his Cure, he went much more coldly to work than before, he asked the Fellow, Who had so altered, and cowed him. Yourself (Sir) replied the other, by having eased me of the pains that made me weary of my life. Lucullus his Soldier, having been rifled by the Enemy, performed upon them in revenge a brave Exploit, by which having made himself at lest a Saviour, Lucullus, who had conceived a good opinion of him, from that action, went about to engage him in some enterprise of very great danger, with all the plausible persuasions and promises he could think of, 

Verbis quae timido quoque possent addere mentem: 
Hor. lib. 2. Ep. 2.    

Words which the coldest Coward would inspire,  
And with brisk mettle set his Blood on Fire.   Pray employ, answered he, some miserable plundered Soldier in that affair, 

— quantum vis rusticus ibit,  

Id. Ibid.  Ibit eò, quô vis, qui zonam perdidit, inquit.   

Some Fool, or poor Knave knapsacked by the foe,  
On that design may peradventure go.   and flatly refused to go. When we read, that Mahomet having furiously rated Chasan, Bassa of the Janissaries, who seeing the Hungarians break into his Squadrons, had behaved himself very ill in the business, and that Chasan in stead of any other answer, rushed furiously alone with his Cimitar in his hand into the first Body of the Enemy, where he was presently cut to pieces: We are not to look upon that action peradventure, so much designed to vindicate himself from the reproach of Cowardice as an effect of recollection, nor so much proceeding from natural Valour as a sudden Despite. The Man you saw yesterday so adventurous and brave, you must not think it strange to see him as great a Poltroon the next: Anger, Necessity, Company, Wine or the sound of the Trumpet, had roused his Spirits; this is no Valour formed, and Established by Meditation; but accidentally created by those circumstances, and therefore it is no wonder, if by contrary circumstances it apquipear te another thing.  
These supple variations, and contradictions so manifest in us, have given Some occasion to believe, that Man has two Souls; Others, two distinct Powers, that always accompany and incline us, the one towards Good, and the other towards Ill according to their own Natures, and Propensions▪ so sudden a variety of inclination not being to be imagined to to flow from one and the same Fountain. For my part I must ingeniously declare, that the puff of every accident not only carries me a long with it, according to its own proclivity, but that moreover I discompose, and trouble myself, by the instability of my own posture; and whoever will look narrowly into his own Bosom, will hardly find himself twice in the same Condition. I give my Soul sometimes one face, and sometimes another, according to the side I turn her to. If I speak variously of myself, it is, because I consider myself variously. All contrarieties are there to be found, in one corner or another, or after one manner or another. Bashful, Insolent, chaste, Lustful, Prating, Silent, Laborious, Delicate, Ingenious, Heavy, Melancholic, Pleasant, Lying, True, Knowing, Ignorant, Liberal, Covetous, and Prodigal, I find all this in myself, more or less, according as I turn myself about; and whoever will sift himself, to the bottom, will find in himself, even by his own Judgement this volubility and discordance. In a word, I have nothing to say of myself entirely, simply, and solidly without mixture, and confusion. Distinguo is the most universal Member of my Logic. Though I always intent to speak well of good things, and rather to interpret such things, as may fall out, in the best sense, than otherwise: Yet such is the strangeness of our condition, that we are sometimes pushed on to do well even by Vice itself, if well doing were not judged by the intention only. One gallant Action therefore ought not to conclude a man Valiant; if a man was brave indeed, he would be always so, and upon all occasions. If it were a Habit of Virtue, and not a Sally, it would render a man equally resolute in all Accidents; the same Alone, as in Company; the same in Lists, as in a Battle; for, let them say what they will, there is not one Valour for the Pavement, and another for the Field. He would bear a Sickness in his Bed, as bravely as a Wound in the Field, and no more fear Death in his own house, than at an assault. We should not then see the same man charge into a Breach with a brave assurance, and afterwards torment himself, and pule like a Woman for the loss of a trial at Law, or the death of a Child. When being a detected Coward to infamy, he is constant in the necessities of Poverty and Want; when he starts at the sight of a Barber's Razor, and rushes fearless into the Swords of the Enemy, the Action is commendable, not the Man.  
Many of the Greeks, says Cicero, cannot endure the sight of an Enemy, 
Cicero. Tusc. 2.  and yet are courageous in Sickness; the Cimbrians, and Celtiberians quite contrary. Nihil enim potest esse aequabile, quod non à certâ ratione proficiscatur. Nothing can be equal, that does not proceed from a certain ground of reason. 
The Valour of Alexander extreme in its kind.  No Valour can be more extreme in its kind, than that of Alexander: But it is but one kind; nor full enough throughout. As peerless as it is, it has yet some blemishes. Of which, his being so often at his wit's end, upon every light suspicion of his Captains conspiring against his life, and the carrying himself in that Inquisition with so much vehemency and injustice, and a fear that subverted his natural reason, is one pregnant instance; the Superstition also, with which he was so much tainted, carries along with it some Image of Pusillanimity. And the excess of his Penitency, for the Murder of Clitus, is also a Testimony of the unevenness of his Courage. All we perform is no other than a Cento, as a man may say, of several pieces, and yet we would acquire Honour by a false title. Virtue cannot be followed, but for herself, and if one sometimes borrow her Mask for some other occasion, she presently pulls it away again. 'Tis a stamp and lively tincture, which when the soul has once thoroughly imbibed, it will not out, but with the piece. And therefore to make a right judgement of a man, we are long, and very observingly, to follow his trace: If constancy does not there stand firm upon her own proper Base, Cui vivendi via considerata, atque provisa est, 
Cicer.  if the variety of occurrences makes him to alter his pace (his path I mean, for the pace may be faster or slower) let him go, such a one runs before the wind. 'Tis no wonder, says one of the Ancients, that chance has so great a dominion over us, since it is by chance we live. It is not possible for any one, who has not designed his life for some certain end, to dispose his particular actions. It is impossible for any one to fit the pieces together, who has not the whole form already contrived in his imagination. To what use are colours to him, or to what end should he provide them, that knows not what he is to paint? No one lays down a certain design for his life, and we only deliberate by pieces. The Archer ought first to know at what he is to aim, and then accommodate his Arm, Bow, String, Shaft, and Motion to it. Our Counsel deviates and wanders, because not leveled to any determinate end. No wind serves him, who addresses his Voyage to no certain Port. I cannot acquiesce in the judgement given by one, in the behalf of Sophocles; who concluded him capable of the management of Domestic affairs, against the accusation of his son, for having seen one of his Tragedies.  
Neither do I allow of the conjecture of the Parians, sent to regulate the Milesians, sufficient for such a consequence, as they from thence derived. Coming to visit the Island, they took notice of such grounds as were best husbanded, and such Country-houses as were best governed; and having taken the names of the owners, when they had assembled the Citizens, they appointed those Farmers for new Governors, and Magistrates; concluding, that they, who had been so provident in their own private concerns, would be so of the public too. We are all inform lumps, and of so various a contexture, that every piece plays every moment it's own game, and there is as much difference betwixt us and ourselves, as betwixt us and others. Magnam rem puta, 
Sen. Epist. 120.  unum hominem agere. Since ambition can teach men Valour, Temperance, and Liberality, and even Justice too; seeing that Avarice can inspire the courage of a Shop-boy, bred and nursed up in obcurity and ease, with the assurance to expose himself so far from the Fireside, to the mercy of the Waves in a frail Boat, that she does farther teach Discretion and Prudence: And that even Venus can inflate Boys under the discipline of the Rod with boldness, and resolution, and infuse masculine courage into the Heart of tender Virgins in their Mother's arms: 

Hac duce custodes furtim transgressa jacentes 
Tib. lib. 2. Erg. 1.   
Ad juvenem tenebris sola puella venit.   

The tender Virgin, dreadless of all harms,  
Steals in the dark to her young Lovers arms.   'Tis not all the understanding has to do, simply to judge us by our outward Actions, it must penetrate the very Soul, and there discover by what springs the motion is guided: But that being a high and hazardous undertaking, I could wish that fewer would attempt it.   

CHAP. II. Of Drunkenness.  
THe World is nothing but Variety, and Disproportion, Vices are all alike, as they are Vices, and peradventure the Stoics understand them so, but although they are equally Vices, yet they are not equal Vices: And that he who has transgressed the ordinary bounds a hundred paces, should not be in a worse condition, than he that has advanced but ten, is not to be believed; or that Sacrilege is not worse than stealing a Cabbadge, 


Hor. lib. 1. Sat. 3.  Nec vincet ratio, tantumdem ut peccet idémque,  
Qui teneros caules alieni fregerit horti,  
Et qui nocturnus diuûm sacra legerit.   

Nor seems it reason, he as much should Sin,  
Steals but a Cabbadge Plant, as he who, in  
The dead of night, a Temple breaks, and brings  
Away from thence the Consecrated things.   There is in this as great diversity, as in any thing whatever: The confounding of the order and measure of Sins is dangerous: Murderers, Traitors, and Tyrants are therein so very deep concerned, that it is not reasonable they should flatter their Consciences, because such another is Idle, Lascivious, or less assiduous at his Devotion: Every one lays weight upon the Sin of his Companions, but lightens his own. Our very Instructors themselves rank them sometimes, in my opinion, very ill. As Socrates, who said, that the principal office of Wisdom was, to distinguish Goods and Evils. We, whose best faculties are always vicious, ought also to say of Knowledge, that it is to distinguish betwixt Vice and Vice, without which, and that very exactly performed, Virtuous and Wicked will remain confounded and unknown. Now, amongst the rest, Drunkenness seems, to me, to be a gross and brutish Vice. The Soul has the greatest interest in all the rest, and there are some Vices, that have something, if a man may so say, of generous in them. There are Vices, wherein there is a mixture of Knowledge, Diligence, Valour, Prudence, Dexterity, and Cunning: 
The Germans great Drinkers.  This is totally Corporeal and Earthly, and the thickest sculled Nation this day in Europe, is that, where it is the most in fashion. Other Vices discompose the understanding, this totally overthrows it, and renders the body stupid.  

— cum vini vis penetravit, 
Lucret. lib. 3.   
Consequitur gravitas membrorum, praepediuntur  
Crura vacillanti, tardescit lingua, madet mens,  
Nant oculi, clamour, singultus, jurgia gliscunt:   

When fumes of Wine do once the Brain possess,  
Then follows strait an indisposedness  
Throughout, the Legs so fettered in that case  
They cannot with the reeling trunk keep pace.  
The Tongue trips, Mind droops, Eyes stand full of Water,  
Noise, Hiccups, Brawls, and Quarrels follow after.   
The worst estate of man is that, wherein he loses the knowledge and government of himself. And 'tis said, amongst other things, upon that subject, that, as the Must, fermenting in a Vessel, works up to the top whatever it has in the bottom: So the old Wine, in those who have drank beyond their measure, vents the most inward Secrets, 

— tu sapientium  
Curas, & arcanum jocoso  
Consilium retegis Lyaeo.   

Thou in thy Cups, and wild debaucheries,  
Blabb'st out the secret Counsel of the Wise.   Josephus tells us, that, by giving an Ambassador, the Enemy had sent to him, his full dose of Liquor, he wormed out his secrets. And yet Augustus, commiting the most inward secrets of his affairs to Lucius Piso, who conquered Thrace, never found him faulty in the least, no more than Tiberius did Cossus, with whom he entrusted his whole Counsels, though we know they were both so given to Drink, that they have often been fain to carry both the one and the other Drunk out of the Senate. 

Hesterno inflatum venas de more Lyaeo. 
Virg. Eg●. 6.    

Their head being yet full of the day before.   And the design of Killing Caesar was as safely communicated to Cimber, though he would sometimes be Drunk, as to Cassius who Drunk nothing but Water. We see our Germans, when Drunk as the Devil, can know their Post, remember the Word, and perform their Duty. 

— nec facilis victoria de madidis, 
Juve●. Sat. 13.  &  
Blaesis, atque mero titubantibus.   

Nor is a victory easily obtained  
o'er men so Drunk, they scarce can speak or stand   I could not have believed there had been so profound, senseless, and dead a degree of Drunkenness, had I not read in History, that Altalus, having, to put a notable affront upon him, invited to Supper the same Pausanias, who upon the very same occasion afterwards killed Philip of Macedon, (a King who by these excellent Qualities gave sufficient Testimony of his Education in the house, and company of Epaminondas) he made him Drink to such a pitch, that he could after dispose of his Beauty, as of a Hedg-whore, to the Muletteers and Servants of the basest Office in the house. And I been further told, by a Lady whom I highly Honour and Esteem, that near Bourdeaux, and about Castres' where she lives, a Countrywoman, a Widow of chaste repute, perceiving in herself the first symptoms of Breeding, innocently told her Neighbours, that if she had a Husband she should think herself with child: But the causes of suspicion every day more and more increasing, and at last growing up to a manifest proof; the poor Woman was reduced to the necessity of causing it to be Proclaimed at the Prosne of her Parish-Church; that whoever had done that deed, and would frankly confess it, she did not only promise to Forgive, but moreover to Marry him, if he liked of the motion. Whereupon a young fellow that served in the quality of a Labourer, encouraged by this Proclamation, declared; that he had one Holiday found her, having taken too much of the Bottle, so fast a sleep in the Chimney, and in so undecent a posture, that he might conveniently come to do his business without waking her; and they yet live together Man and Wife. It is true, that Antiquity has not much decried this Vice: The Writings of several Philosophers speak very tenderly of it, and even amongst the Stoics there are some, who advise to give themselves sometimes the liberty to Drink to a debauch, to recreate and refresh the Soul. 

Hoc quoque virtutum quondam certamine magnum 
Cornel. Gall. Epig. 1.   
Socratem palmam promeruisse ferunt.   

And Socrates the Wise they say of yore,  
Amongst Boon-blades the palm of Drinking bore.   That Censor, and Reprover of others, Cato was reproached that he was a Goodfellow. 

Narratur & prisci Catonis 
Horace. lib. 3. Ode. 21.   
Saepe mero caluisse virtus.   

And of the Elder Cato it is said,  
He often went with a hot Pate to Bed.   Cyrus' that worthy renowned King, amongst his other qualities, by which he pretended to be preferred before his Brother Artaxerxes, urged this excellency, that he could Drink a great deal more than he. And in the best governed Nations, this trial of skill in Drinking is very much in use. I have heard Silvius, an excellent Physician of Paris, say, that lest the digestive faculties of the Stomach should grow idle, 
Drinking to a debauch in Use amongst the best governed Nations.  it were not amiss once a month to rouse them by this excess, and to spur them, lest they should grow dull and resty; and one Author tells us, that the Persians used to consult about their most important Affairs, after being well warmed with Wine. My taste and constitution are greater Enemies to this Vice than I am, for besides that I easily submit my belief to the Authority of ancient opinions: I look upon it indeed as a stupid and ungraceful Vice, but less malicious and hurtful than the others, which almost all more directly justle public Society. And if we cannot please ourselves, but it must cost us something, as they hold; I find this Vice costs a man's conscience less than the others, besides that it is of no difficult preparation; nor what we look for hard to be found, a consideration not altogether to be despised. A man well advanced both in Dignity and Age, amongst three principal Commodities, that he said remained to him of life, reckoned to me this for one, and where would a man more justly find it, 
Delicacy to be avoided in Wine.  than amongst the natural conveniences? But he did not take it right, for delicacy and the curious choice of Wines, is therein to be avoided. If you found your pleasure upon Drinking of the best, you condemn yourself to the penance of Drinking of the worst. Your taste must be more indifferent and free. So delicate a Palate is not required to make a good Toper. The Germans Drink almost indifferently of all Wines and Liquors with delight, their business is to power down, and not to taste; and it's so much the better for them, their pleasure is so much the more constant, and nearer at hand. Now on the other side, not to Drink (after the French fashion) but at meals, and then very moderately too, is to be ingrate to this bountiful God of Wine. There is more time and constancy required than so. The Ancients spent whole nights in this exercise, and ofttimes added the day following to eke it out, and therefore we are to take greater liberty than so, and stick closer to our work. I have seen a great Lord of my time, a man of high enterprise and famous success, that without setting himself to't, and after his ordinary rate of Drinking at meals, Drank not much less than five quarts of Wine, and at his going away appeared but too wise and discreet, to the detriment of our affairs. The pleasure we design the greatest esteem for the whole course of our lives, aught to have a greater share of our time dedicated to it. We should like Shop-boys and Labourers, refuse no occasion nor omit no opportunity of Drinking, and always have it in our minds. But methinks we every day abridge and curtail the use of Wine; and the Breakfast Drinking and Collations, I used to see in my Father's house, when I was a Boy, were more usual and frequent then, than now.  
Is it that we pretended to a Reformation? Truly no. But it may be we are more addicted to Venus, than our Fathers were. They are two exercises that thwart and hinder one another in their vigour. Lechery has weakened our Stomach on the one side, and on the other Sobriety renders us more spruce and amorous for the exercise of Love. 'Tis not to be imagined what strange Stories I have heard my Father tell, of the Chastity of that Age wherein he lived. It was for him to say it, being both by Art and Nature cut out, 
A Character of the Author's Father.  and finished for the service of Ladies. He spoke well, and little; ever mixing his Language with some Illustration out of vulgar Authors, especially Spanish, and, amongst them, Ma●cus Aurelius was very frequent in his mouth. His behaviour was grave, humble, and modest; He was very solicitous of neatness and decency both in his Person and clothes, whether on Horseback, or a Foot: He was exceeding punctual of his Word; and of a Conscience, and Religion generally tending rather towards Superstition than otherwise. For a Man of little Stature, very Strong, well Proportioned, and well Knit, of a pleasing Countenance inclining to Brown, and very Adroit in all noble Exercises. I have yet in the House to be seen Canes poured full of Lead, with which, they say, he exercised his Arms, for throwing the Bar, or the Stone; and Shoes with Leaden Sols, to make him after lighter for Running, or Leaping. Of his Vaulting he has left little Miracles behind him: I have seen him, when past threescore, laugh at our Exercises, and throw himself in his Furred Gown into the Saddle, make the Tour of a Table upon his Thumbs, and scarce ever mount the Stairs into his Chamber without taking three or four steps at a time. But upon what I was speaking before, he said, there was scarce one Woman of Quality of ill Fame in a whole Province. Would tell of strange Privacies, and some of them his own, with Virtuous Women, without any manner of suspicion: 
Marvellous Chastity of the Age wherein the Author's Father lived.  And for his own part, solemnly swore he was a Virgin at his Marriage; and yet it was after a long practice of Arms beyond the Mountains; of which War he has left us a Paper-Journal under his own hand, wherein he has given a precise account from point to point of all passages both relating to the Public, and to Himself. And was also Married at a well advanced Maturity in the year 1528, the three and thirtieth year of his Age, upon his way home from Italy. But let us turn to our Battle.  
The incommodities of old Age, that stand in need of some refreshment and support, might with reason beget in me a desire of this faculty, it being as were the last pleasure the course of years deprives us of. The natural heat, (say the Good-fellows,) first seats itself in the Feet, that concerns Infancy, thence it mounts into the middle Region, where it makes a long abode, and produces in my opinion the sole true pleasure of humane life; all other pleasures, in comparison, sleep. Toward the end, like a vapour that still mounts upward, it arrives at the Throat, where it makes its final residence, and concludes the progress. I cannot nevertheless understand, how a man can extend the pleasure of drinking beyond Thirst, and to forge in his imagination an Appetite artificial, and against Nature. My Stomach would not proceed so far, it has enough to do to deal with what it takes in for necessity. My constitution, is, not to care to Drink, but as it follows Eating, and to wash down my Meat, and for that reason my last Draught is always the greatest: And seeing that in old Age we have our Palates furred with Phlegmes, or depraved by some other ill constitution, the Wine tastes better to us, as the Pores are cleaner washed, and laid more open. At least I seldom taste the first Glass well. Anacharsis wondered, that the Greeks drunk in greater Glasses towards the end of a meal, than at the beginning; which was I suppose for the same reason, the Dutch do the same, who then begin the Battle. Plato forbids Children Wine, till eighteen years of Age, and being drunk, till forty; but after forty gives them leave to please themselves, and to mix a little liberally, in their Feasts, the influence of Dionysius, 
One of the names of Bacchus.  that good Deity who restores young men their good humour, and old men their youth, who mollifies the passions of the Soul, as Iron is softened by Fire; and in his Laws allows such merry meetings, (provided they have a discreet Chief to govern, and keep them in order) for good and of great utility: Drunkenness being a true and certain trial of every one's Nature, and withal fit to inspire old Men with Mettle to divert themselves in Dancing, and Music; things of great use, and that they dare not attempt when sober. He moreover says, that Wine is able to supply the Soul with Temperance, and the Body with Health; nevertheless these Restrictions, in part borrowed from the Carthaginians, please him: That they forbear excesses in the Expeditions of War; that every Judge and Magistrate abstain from it, when about the Administrations of his place, or the Consultations of the Public affairs: That the day is not to be embeazled with it, that being a time due to other employments, nor that night he intends to get Children. 'Tis said, that the Philosopher Stilpo, when oppressed with Age, purposely hastened his End by drinking pure Wine. The same thing, but not designed by him, dispatched also the Philosopher Arcesilaus. But 'tis an old, and pleasant Question, Whether the Soul of a wise Man can be overcome by the strength of Wine, 

Si munitae adhibet vim sapientiae. 
Hor. lib. 3. Ode. 23.    

If it a Head, with its besotting fume,  
With Wisdom fortified t'assault presume.    
To what vanity does the good opinion we have of ourselves push us? The most regular and most perfect Soul in the World has but too much to do to keep itself upright, from being overthrown by its own weakness. There is not one of a thousand that is right, and settled so much as one Minute in a whole Life, and that may not very well doubt, whether according to her Natural condition she can ever be. But to join Constancy to it, is her utmost Perfection; I mean though nothing should justle and discompose her, which a thousand Accidents may do. 'Tis to much purpose, that the great Poet Lucretius, keeps such a clutter with his Philosophy, when behold he is ruined with a Philtre, one poor draught of Love. Is it to be imagined, that an Apoplexy will not make an Ass of Socrates, as well as of a Porter. Some have forgot their own names by the violence of a Disease, and a slight Wound has turned the Judgement of others topsey-turvey. Let him be as wise as he will, but in fine he is a Man; and than that, what is there more miserable, or more nothing? Wisdom does not force our natural dispositions.  

Sudores itaque & pallorem existere toto  

Lucret. lib. 3.  Corpore, & infringi linguam, vocemque aboriri,  
Caligare oculos, sonere aures, succidere artus,  
Denique considere ex animi terrore videmus.   

Paleness, and Sweat the Countenance confounds,  
The Tongue's delivered of Abortive Sounds,  
The Eyes grow dim, Ears deaf, the Knees grow lame,  
And do refuse to prop the trembling Frame,  
And lastly out of fear of mind we all  
Things see into a Dissolution fall.   
He must shut his Eyes against the blow that threatens him; he must tremble upon the Margin of a precipice like a Child: Nature having reserved these light works of her Authority, not to be forced by our Reason and Stoical virtue, to teach Man his Mortality, and little power. He turns pale with fear, red with shame, and groans with the Colic, if not very loud, at least so as to confess his frailty.  

Humani à se nihil alienum putet. 
Terence.    

To any other man what may befall,  
Let him not think strange to himself at all.   
The Poets, that feign all things at pleasure, dare not acquit their greatest Hero's of Tears.  

Sic fatur lacrimans, classic immittit habenas. 
Virg. 6.    

Thus did he weeping say, and then his Fleet  
Did to the mercy of the Sea commit.   
'Tis sufficient for a man to curb and moderate his inclinations, for totally to suppress them is not in him to do. Even our great Plutarch, that excellent and perfect Judge of Humane Actions, when he sees Brutus and Torquatus Murder their own Children, begins to doubt, whether Virtue could proceed so far; and to question, whether these persons had not rather been stimulated by some other Passion. All Actions exceeding the ordinary bounds are liable to Sinister interpretation: For as much as our liking does no more proceed from what is above, than from what is below it.  
Let us leave this other Sect and make a downright profession of fierceness. But when even in that Sect, reputed the most quiet and gentle we hear these Rhodomontades of Metrodorus: Occupavi te, Fortuna, atque cepi: Omnesque aditus tuos interclusi, ut ad me aspirare non posses. Fortune, 
Cicero. Tusc. l. 5.  thou art mine, I have thee fast, and have made all the Avenues so sure thou canst not come at me. When Anaxarchus, by the command of Nicocreon the Tyrant of Cyprus, was put into a Stone-Morter, and laid upon with Mauls of Iron, ceases not to say, Strike, Batter, Break, 'tis not Anaxarchus, 'tis but his Sheath that you pound and bray so. When we hear our Martyrs cry out to the Tyrant in the middle of the Flame, this side is Roasted enough, fall to, and eat, it is enough, fall to work with the other. When we hear the Child in Josephus, torn piece-meal with biting Pincers, defying Antiochus, and crying out with a constant and assured Voice, Tyrant, thou losest thy labour, I am still at ease, where is the the Pain, where are the Torments with which thou didst so threaten me? Is this all thou canst do? My Constancy torments thee more, than thy Cruelty does me: O Pitiful Coward, thou Faintest, and I grow Stronger, make my Complain, make me Bend, make me Yield if thou canst; Encourage they Guards, Cheer up thy Executioners, see, see they Faint, and can do no more; Arm them, Flesh them anew, Spur them up. Really a man must confess, that there is some alteration and fury, how Holy soever, that does at that time possess those Souls. When we come to these Stoical Sallies: I had rather be Furious than Voluptuous, a saying of Antisthenes; When Sextius tells us, he had rather be Fettered with Affliction, than Pleasure: When Epicurus takes upon him to play with his Gout, and that refusing Health and Ease, he defies all Torments, and despising the Lesser Pains, as disdaining to contend with them, he covets and calls out for Sharper, more violent, and more worthy of him: 

Spumantemque dari pecora inter inertia votis  
Optat aprum, 
Aenied. l. 4.  aut fulvum descendere monte leonem.   

And for ignobler Chases wishes some  
Lion or Boar, would from the Mountain come.    
Who but must conclude, that they are pushed on by a Courage, that has broke loose from its place? Our Soul cannot from her own Seat reach so high, 'tis necessary she must leave it, raise herself up, and taking the Bridle in her Teeth, transport her man so far, that he shall after himself be astonished at what he has done. As in occasion of War, the Heat of Battle sometimes bushes the generous Soldiers to perform things of so infinite Danger, as after having recollected themselves, they themselves are the first to wonder at. As also fares with the Poets, who are often rapt with admiration of their own Writings, and know not where again to find the tract, through which they performed so happy a Career; which also is in them called Rage, and Rapture: And as Plato says, 'tis to purpose for a Sober man to knock at the door of Poesy: And Aristotle says to the same effect, that no excellent Soul is exempt from the mixture of Folly; and he has reason to call all Transports, how commendable soever, that surpass our own Judgement and understanding, Folly,: For as much as Wisdom is a regular Government of the Soul, which is carried on with Measure and Proportion, and which she is to herself responsible for. Plato argues thus, that the Faculty of Prophesying is so far above us, that we must be out of ourselves, when we meddle with it, and our Prudence must either be obstructed by Sleep or Sickness, or lifted from her place by some Celestial Rapture.   

CHAP. III. The Custom of the Isle of Cea.  

To Philosophise, what?  IF to Philosophise, be, as 'tis defined, to doubt, much more to write at random, and play the Fool, as I do, aught to be reputed doubting, for it is for Novices and Freshmen to inquire and to dispute, and for the Chairman to moderate and determine. My Moderator is the Authority of the Divine Will, that Governs us without contradiction, and that is Seated above these vain, and humane contests. Philip being forceably intred into Peloponnesus, and some one saying to Damidas, that the Lacedæmonians were likely very much to suffer, if they did not in time reconcile themselves to his favour: Why you pitiful Fellow, replied he, what can they suffer, that do not fear to die? It being also demanded of Agis, which way a man might live free? Why, said he, by despising Death. These, and a thousand other sayings to the same purpose, do distinctly sound something more than the Patient attending the stroke of Death, when it shall come; for there are several Accidents in Life, far worse to suffer than Death itself: Witness the Lacedaemonian Boy, taken by Antigonus, and sold for a Slave, who being by his new Master commanded to some base Employment, Thou shalt see, says the Boy, whom thou hast bought, 
Several Accidents worse to suffer than Death.  it would be a shame for me to serve, being so near the reach of Liberty, and having so said, threw himself from the top of the house. Antipater severely threatening the Lacedæmonians, that he might the better incline them to acquiesce in a certain demand of his; If thou threatnest us with more than Death, replied they, we shall the more willingly Dye: And to Philip having writ them word, that he would frustrate all their Erterprises, What, wilt thou also hinder us from dying? This is the meaning of the Sentence, That the Wise man lives as long as he ought, not so long as he can; and that the most obliging Present Nature has made us, and which takes from us all colour of complaint of our condition, is, to have delivered into our own custody the Keys of Life. She has only Ordered one door into life, but a hundred thousand ways out. We may be straightened for Earth to Live upon, but Earth sufficient to Die upon can never be wanting, as Boiocatus answered the Romans: why dost thou complain of this World? It deteins the not; thy own cowardice is the cause if thou livest in Pain: There remains no more to Dye but to be willing to do it.  


Senec. The. Act. 1. Sca. 1.  Vbique mors est. Optimè hoc cavit Deus,  
Eripere Vitam nemo non homini potest:  
At nemo Mortem: Mille ad hanc aditus patent.   

To Death a man can never want a Gate,  
Heaven has provided very well for that,  
There's not so mean a Wretch on earth, but may  
Take the most Noble Hero's life away;  
But to the willing none can Death refuse,  
There are to that a thousand Avenues.   

Death depends upon the Will.  Neither is it a Recipe for one Disease, Death is the Infallible Cure of all, 'tis a most assured Port, that is never to be feared, and very often to be sought: It comes all to one, whether a man gives himself his end, or stays to receive it by some other means; whether he pays before his day, or stay till his day of payment come: From whencesoever it comes, it is still his: In what part soever the thread breaks, there's the end of the Clue, the most voluntary Death, is the most brave. Life depends upon the Pleasure and Discretion of others, Death upon our own. We ought not to accommodate ourselves to our own Humour in any thing so much as in that. Reputation is not concerned in such an enterprise; and it's a folly to be diverted by any such apprehension, living is Slavery, if the liberty of dying be away. The ordinary method of Cures is carried on at the expense of Life, they torment us with Caustics, Incisions, and Amputations of limbs, at the same time interdicting Aliments, and exhausting our Blood; one step father, and we are cured indeed. Why are not the Jugular Veins as much at our dispose, as the Cephalick, Basilick, or Median Vein? For a desperate disease, a desperate cure. Servius the Grammarian, being tormented with the Gout, could advise of no better remedy, than to apply Poison to his Legs, to deprive them of their sense, then let them be Gouty on God's name, so they were insensible of pain. God gives us leave enough, when he is pleased to reduce us to such a condition, that to live is far worse than to die. 'Tis weakness to truckle under infirmities, but it's madness to nourish them. The Stoics say, that it is living according to Nature in a Wise man to take his leave of Life, even in the height of prosperity, if he do it opportunely, and in a Fool to prolong it, though he be miserable, provided he be indigent of those things, which are reputed the necessaries of human life. As I do not offend the Law, provided against Thiefs, when I embezel my own Money, and cut my own Purse; nor that against Incendiaries, when I burn my own Wood; so am I not under the lash of those made against Murderers, for having deprived myself of my own life. Hegesius said, that as the condition of life did, so the condition of death ought to depend upon our own choice: And Diogenes meeting the Philosopher Speucippus, so blown up with an inveterate Dropsy, that he was fain to be carried in a Litter, and by him saluted with the compliment, of, I wish you good health; no health to thee, replied the other, who art content to live in such a condition. And in truth, not long after Speucippus, weary of so languishing an estate of Life, found a means to die. But this does not pass without admitting a dispute: For many are of Opinion, that we cannot quit this Garrison of the World, without the express command of him, who has placed us in it; and that it appertains to God, who has placed us here, not for ourselves only, but for his Glory, and the service of others, to dismiss us when it shall best please him, and not for us to depart without his Licence: That we are not born for ourselves only, but for our Country also, the Laws of which require an account from us, upon the score of their own interest, and have an action of Manslaughter good against us. Or if these fail to take cognizance of the Fact, we are punished in the other World, as deserters of our Duty.  

Proxima deinde tenent maesti Loca, 
Aeneid. lib. 6.  qui sibi lethum  
Insontes peperere manu, lucémque perosi  
Proiecere animas.   

Next these, those Melancholic Souls remain,  
Who innocent by their own hands were slain,  
And hating light, to voluntary Death  
Eclipsed their eyeballs, and bequeathed their breath.   
There is more Constancy in suffering the Chain we are tied in, than in breaking it, and more pregnant evidence of fortitude in Regulus, than in Cato. 'Tis Indiscretion and Impatience that bushes us on to these precipices. No accidents can make true Virtue turn her back, she seeks and requires Evils, Pains and Grief, as the things by which she is nourished and supported. The menaces of Tyrants, Wracks, and Tortures serve only to animate and rouse her. 

Duris ut ilex tonsa bipennibus 
Hor. lib. 4. Ode. 4.   
Nigrae feraci frondis in Algido  
Per damna, per caedes, ab ipso  
Ducit opes, animumque ferro.   

As in Mount Algidus the sturdy Oak,  
Even from th' injurious Axes wounding stroke,  
Derives new vigour, and does further spread  
By amputations a more graceful head.   And as another says. 


Sen. Th. Act. 1. Scen. 1.  Non est ut putas virtus, Pater,  
Timere vitam, sed malis ingentibus  
Obstare, nec se vertere ac retro dare.   

They are mistaken, and do judge amiss,  
Who think to fear to live, a Virtue is;  
He's brave, the greatest evils can withstand,  
And not retire, nor shift to either hand.   Or as this.  


Mart. lib. 11. Epig. 57  Rebus in adversis facile est contemnere mortem.  
Fortius ille facit, qui miser esse potest.   

The wretched well may laugh at death; but he  
Is braver far can live in misery.   
'Tis Cowardice not Virtue, to lie squat in furrow under a Tomb to evade the blows of Fortune. Virtue never stops, nor goes out of her path for the greatest storm that blows: 


Hor. lib. 3. Ode. 3.  Si fractus illabatur orbis,  
Impavidam ferient ruinae.   

Should the World's Axis crack, and Sphere fall down,  
The ruins would but crush a fearless Crown.    
And for the most part, the flying of other inconveniences brings us to this, that, endeavouring to evade death, we run into the mouth of it.  

Hic, rogo, non furor est, ne moriare, mori? 
Mar. lib. 2. Epig. 80.    

Can there be greater madness, pray reply,  
Than that one should for fear of dying, die?   
Like those who for fear of a precipice, throw themselves headlong into it.  

— Multos in summa pericula misit 
Lucan. lib. 7.   
Venturi timor ipse mali: Fortissimus ille est,  
Qui promptus metuenda pati, si cominus instent,  
Et differre potest.   

The fear of future ills oft makes men run  
Into far worse, than those they strive to shun;  
But he deserves the noblest Character,  
Dare boldly stand the mischiefs he does fear,  
When they confront him, and appear in view,  
And can defer at least if not eschew.   

— usque adeo mortis formidine, 
Lucret. lib. 3.  vitae  
Percipit humanos odium, lucisque videndae  
Vt sibi consciscant maerenti pectore lethum,  
Obliti fontem curarum hunc esse timorem.   

Death unto that degree does some men fright,  
That causing them to hate both life and light,  
They kill themselves in sorrow, not aware,  
That this same fear's the fountain of that care.   

Ignominious sepulture of self homicides.  Plato in his laws assigns an ignominious sepulture to him who has deprived his nearest and best friend (namely himself) of life, and his destined course of years, being neither compelled so to do by public judgement, by any sad and inevitable accident of fortune, nor by any insupportable disgrace, but merely pushed on by cowardice, and the imbecility of a timorous soul. And the opinion, that makes so little of life, is ridiculous; for it is our being; 'tis all we have. Things of a nobler, and more elevated being, may indeed accuse this of ours; but it is against nature, for us to contemn, and make little account of ourselves; 'tis a disease particular to man, and not discerned in any other creatures, to hate and despise itself. And it is a vanity of the same stamp, to desire be something else, than what we are. The effects o● such a desire do not at all concern us, for as much as it is contradicted, and hindered in itself and he that desires of a man to be made an An●gel, wishes nothing for himself; he would b● never the better for it; for being no more, wh●● should rejoice, or be sensible of this benefit fo● him?  

Debet enim miserè cui fortè aegréque futurum est, 
Idem Ibid.   
Ipse quoque esse in eo tum tempore, cum male possit Accidere.   

For it is necessary sure that he,  
Who for the future wretched is to be,  
Should then be by himself inhabited,  
That the events of Fate been frustrated;  
But that the ills, he threatened is withal,  
Should rightly in their due appointment fall.   
Security, indolency, impassibility, and the privation of the evils of life, which we pretend to purchase at the price of dying, are of no manner of advantage to us. That man evades war to very little purpose, that can have no fruition of peace; and as impertinently does he avoid labour and toil, who cannot enjoy repose. Amongst those of the first of these two opinions, there has been great debate, what occasions are sufficient to justify the meditation of self-murder, which they call, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a handsome Exit. For though they say, that men are often to die for trivial causes, seeing those that detain us in life are of no very great weight, yet there is to be some measure. There are fantastic and senseless humours, that have prompted not only particular men, but whole Nations to destroy themselves, of which I have elsewhere given some examples; and we further read of the Milesian virgins, that, by a furious compact, they hanged themselves, one after another, till the Magistrate took order in it, enacting, that the bodies of such as should be found so hanged, should be drawn by the same halter stark naked through the City. When Threition persuaded Cleomenes to dispatch himself by reason of the ill posture of his affairs, and having evaded a death of the most honour in the battle he had lost, to accept of this the second in honour to it, and not to give the Conqueror's leisure to make him undergo either an ignominious death, or an infamous life: Cleomenes with a courage truly Stoic, and Lacedaemonian rejected his Counsel as unmanly and poor; that, said he, is a remedy that can never be wanting, and which a man is never to make use of, whilst there is an inch of hope remaining: telling him, that it was sometimes constancy and valour to live, that he would that even his death should be of use to his Country, and would make of it an act of honour and virtue. Threition notwithstanding thought himself in the right, and did his own business; and Cleomenes after did the same; but not till he had first tried the utmost malevolence of fortune. All the inconvenences in the world are not considerable enough that a man should die to evade them, and besides, there being so many, so sudden, and unexpected changes in humane things, it is hard, rightly to judge when we are at the end of our hope.  

Sperat & in saeva victus gladiator arena,  

Sulpitii Servasti.  Sit licet infesto pollice turba minax.   

The fencer conquered in the lists hopes on,  
Though the Spectators point that he is gone.   
All things (says the old Adage) are to be hoped for by a man whilst he lives: ay but replies Seneca, why should this rather be always running in a man's head, that Fortune can do all things for the living man, than this, that Fortune has no power over him that knows how to die? 
Josep. Antiq. Jews. p. 537.  Josephus when engaged in so near and apparent danger, a whole People being violently bend against him, that there was no visible means of escape, nevertheless, being, as himself says, in this extremity counselled by Simon one of his faithful Guards to dispatch himself, it was well for him, that he yet maintained himself in some hope, for fortune diverted the accident beyond all humane expectation; so that he saw himself delivered without any manner of inconvenience. Whereas Brutus and Cassius, on the contrary, threw away the remains of the Roman liberty, of which they were the sole Protectors, by the precipitation and temerity wherewith they killed themselves before the due time, and a just occasion. Monsieur d' Anguien, 
Montluc Comment.  at the Battle of Cerisolles, twice attempted to run himself through, despairing of the fortune of the day, which went indeed very untowardly on that side of the Field where he was engaged, and by that precipitation was very near depriving himself of the joy and honour of so brave a Victory. I have seen a hundred Hares escape out of the very teeth of the Greyhounds▪ Aliquis carnifici suo superstes fuit. 
Sen. Ep. 13.  Some have survived their Executioners.  

Multa dies, variúsque labor mutabilis aevi  
Rettulit in melius, multos alterna revisens  

Aeneid. lib. 11.  Lusit, & in solido rursus fortuna locavit.   

Much time and labour often does translate  
Life's mutability t'a better state,  
Now fortune turning shows a reverse face,  
And then again in solid joy does place.   
Pliny says, there are three sorts of diseases, to escape any of which a man has good title to destroy himself; the worst of which is the stone in the bladder, when the urine is suppressed. Seneca says, those only, which for a long time discompose the functions of the Soul; And some there have been, who to avoid a worse, have chosen one to their own liking. Democritus, General of the Aetolians, being brought prisoner to Rome, found means to make his escape by night▪ but close pursued by his keepers, rather than suffer himself to be retaken, he fell upon his own sword, and died. Antinous and Theodotus their City of Epirus being reduct by the Romans to the last extremity, gave the People counsel generally to kill themselves; but the advice of giving themselves up to the arms of the Enemy prevailing, they went to seek the death they desired, rushing furiously upon the Enemy, with an intention to strike home, but not to defend a blow. The Isle Gosa forced some years ago by the Turks, a Sicilian, who had two beautiful daughters marriageable, killed them both with his own hand, and their mother running in to save them, to boot. Which having done, sallying out of the House with a crossbow, and a harquebus, with those two shoots he killed two of the first Turks nearest to his door, and drawing his sword charged furiously in amongst the rest, where he was suddenly enclosed, and cut to pieces. By that means delivering his family, and himself from slavery, and dishonour. The Jewish women after having circumcised their Children, threw themselves down a Precipice to avoid the cruelty of Antigonus. I have been told of a prisoner of condition in one of our prisons, that his friends being informed he would certainly be condemned, to avoid the ignominy of such a death, suborned a Priest to tell him, that the only means of his deliverance was, to recommend himself to such a Saint, under such and such vows, and fast eight days together, without taking any manner of nourishment what ever, what weakeness or faintness so ever he might find in himself during the time, he followed their advice, and by that means destroyed himself before he was aware, not dreaming of death, or any danger in the Experiment. Scribonia advising her Nephew Libo to kill himself, rather than to attend the stroke of Justice, told him, that it was properly to do others People's business to preserve his life, to put it after into the hands of those who within three or four days would come fetch him to execution; and that it was to serve his Enemies to keep hi● blood to gratify their malice. We read in the Bible that Nicanor the persecutor of the Law of God, 
Macchab. l. 2. Cap. 14.  having sent his Soldiers to seize upon the good old man Razis, surnamed in honour of his virtue the Father of the Jews: the good man seeing no other remedy, his Gates burnt down, and the Enemies ready to seize him, choosing rather to die generously, than to fall into the hands of his wicked adversaries, and suffer himself to be cruelly butchered by them, contrary to the honour of his rank and quality, he stabbed himself with his own sword, but the blow for hast not having been given home, he ran and threw himself from the top of a wall headlong among them, who separating themselves, and making room, he pitched directly upon his head. Notwithstanding which, feeling yet in himself some remains of life, he renewed his courage, and starting up upon his feet all bloody, and wounded as he was, and making his way through the Crowd, through one of his wounds drew out his bowels, which tearing and pulling to pieces with both his hands, he threw amongst his pursuers, all the while attesting, and invoking the Divine vengeance upon them, for their cruelty and injustice.  
Of violences offered to the conscience, that against the chastity of woman, is, in my opinion, most to be evaded, for as much as there is a certain pleasure naturally mixed with it, and for that reason the dissent cannot therein be sufficiently perfect and entire, so that the violence seems to be mixed with a little consent of the forced party. The Ecclesiastical History has several examples of devout persons, who have embraced death to secure them from the outrages prepared by Tyrants against their Religion and honour. Pelagia and Sophronia both Canonised, the first of these precipitated herself with her mother and sisters into the river to avoid being forced by some Soldiers, and the last also killed herself to evade being ravished by the Emperor Maxentius. It may peradventure be an honour to us in future Ages, that a learned Author of this present time, and a Parisian, takes a great deal of pains to persuade the Ladies of our age, rather to take any other course, than to enter into the horrid meditation of such a despair. I am sorry he had never heard (that he might have inserted it amongst his others stories) the saying of a woman, which was told me at Tholouze, who had passed through the handling of some Soldiers. God be praised, said she, that once at least in my life I have had my fill, without sin. I must confess these cruelties are very unworthy the French sweetness, and good nature, and also God be thanked, the air is very well purged of it, since this good advice: 'tis enough that they say no in doing it, according to the Rule of the good Marot.  
History is every where full of such, as after a thousand ways have for death exchanged a painful and irksome Life. Lucius Arruntius killed himself, to fly, he said, both the future and the past. Granius Silvanus and Statius Proximus, after having been pardoned by Nero, kill'● themselves; either disdaining to live by the favour of so Wicked a man; or that they might not be troubled at some other time to obtain 〈◊〉 second Pardon, considering the proclivity and faculties of his Nature, to suspect and credit accusations against worthy men. Spargapize's the 〈◊〉 of Queen Tomyris, being a Prisoner of War 〈◊〉 Cyrus, made use of the first favour Cyrus' shew'● him in commanding him to be unbound, to kill himself, having pretended to no other be●nefit of liberty, but only to be revenged of himself for the disgrace of being taken. Bogez Governor in Eion for King Xerxes, being besiegers by the Athenian Arms under the conduct 〈◊〉 Cimon, refused the conditions offered, that 〈◊〉 might safe return into Asia with all his wealth● impatient to survive the loss of a place his Maste● had given him to keep; wherefore having defended the City to the last extremity, nothing being left to eat, he first threw all the Gold and what ever else the Enemy could make boot● of, into the River Strymon, and after causing 〈◊〉 great pile to be set on fire, and the throats 〈◊〉 all the Women, Children, Concubines and Ser●vants to be cut, he threw their Bodies into th● fire, and at last leapt into it himself. Ninache●tuen an Indian Lord, so soon as he heard th● first whisper of the Portugal Viceroy's determi●nation, to dispossess him, without any apparent cause, of the Command in Malaca, to transfer it to the King of Campar, he took this reso●lution with himself. He caused a scaffold more long than broad to be erected, supported by Columns, royally adorned with tapestry, and strewed with flowers, and abundance of perfumes. All which being thus prepared, in a Robe of cloth of Gold, set full of Jewels of great value, he came out into the street, and mounted the Steps to the Scaffold, at one corner of which he had a pile lighted of Aromatic wood. Every body ran to the novelty, to see to what end these unusual preparations were made. When Ninachetuen with a manly, but discontented, countenance, began to remonstrate how much he had obliged the Portuguese Nation, and with how unspotted fidelity he had carried himself in his Charge; that having so often with his sword in his hand manifested in the behalf of others, that honour was much more dear to him than life, he was not to abandon the concern of it for himself: that Fortune denying him all means of opposing the affront was designed to be put upon him, his courage at least enjoined him to free himself from the sense of it, and not to serve for a fable to the People, nor for a triumph to Men less deserving than himself; which having said, he leapt into the Fire. Sextilia the wife of Scaurus, and Praxea the wife of Labeo, to encourage their husbands to evade the dangers that pressed upon them, wherein they had no other share, than mere conjugal affection, voluntarily exposed their own lives to serve them in this extreme necessity for company and example. What they did for their husbands, Cocceius Nerva did for his Country, with less utility, though with equal affection. This great Lawyer, flourishing in health, riches, reputation and favour with the Emperor, had no other cause to kill himself, but the sole compassion of the miserable Estate of the Roman Republic. Nothing can be added to the nicety of the death of the wife of Fulvius, a familiar favourite of Augustus. Augustus' having discovered, that he had vented an important secret he had entrusted him withal; one morning that he came to make his Court, received him very coldly, and looked frowningly upon him. He returns home full of despair, where he sorrowfully told his wife, that being fallen into this misfortune, he was resolved to kill himself: To which she roundly replied, 'tis but reason you should, seeing that having so often experimented the incontinency of my tongue, you could not learn, nor take warning: but let me kill myself first, and without any more dispute ran herself through the Body with a Sword. Vibius Virius despairing of the safety of his City, besieged by the Romans, and of their mercy: in the last deliberation of his City's Senate, after many Remonstrances conducing to that end, concluded, that the most Noble means to escape Fortune, was by their own hands: telling them that the Enemy would have them in honour, and Hannibal would be sensible how many faithful friends he had abandoned; inviting those who approved of his advice, to go take a good supper he had ready at home, where after they had eaten well, they would drink together of what he had prepared, a beverage, said he, that will deliver our Bodies from torments, our Souls from injury, and our Eyes and Ears from the sense of so many hateful mischiefs, as the Conquered are to suffer from cruel and implacable Conquerors. I have, said he, taken order for fit persons to throw our Bodies into a funeral pile before my door, so soon as we are dead. Enough approved this high resolution, few imitated it, seven and twenty Senators followed him, who after having tried to drown the thought of this fatal determination in Wine, ended the feast with the mortal Mess; and embracing one another, after they had jointly deplored the misfortune of their Country, some retired home to their own houses, others stayed to be burnt with Vibius in his funeral Pyre; and were all of them so long a dying, the vapour of the Wine having prepossessed the Veins, and by that means deferring the effect of the Poison, that some of them were within an hour of seeing the Enemy within the walls of Capua, which was taken the next morning, and of undergoing the miseries, they had at so dear a rate endeavoured to evade. Taurea Jubellius another Citizen of the same Country, the Consul Fulvius returning from the shameful butchery he had made of two hundred twenty five Senators, called him back fiercely by his name, and having made him stop, give the word, said he, that some body may dispatch me after the Massacre of so many others, that thou mayst boast, to have killed a much more valiant Man than thyself Fulvius disdaining him, as a man out of hi● wits: as also having received Letters from Rome contrary to the inhumanity of this Execution, which tied his hands; Jubellius proceeded, since that my Country being taken, my friends dead, and having with my own hands slain my wife and children to rescue them from desolation of this ruin, I am denied to die the death of my fellow-Citizens, let us borrow from virtue the vengeance of this hated life, and therewithal drawing a short sword, he carried concealed about him, he ran it through his own Bosom, falling down backward, and expiring at the Consul's feet. Alexander laying Siege to a City of the Indies, those within finding themselves very hardly set, put on a vigorous resolution to deprive him of the pleasure 〈◊〉 his Victory, and accordingly burnt themselves in general together with their City, in despite of his humanity. A new kind of War, where the Enemies sought to save them, and they 〈◊〉 lose themselves, doing, to make themselves sure of death, all that men do to secure their lives. Astapa a City of Spain finding it se●● weak in walls and defence to withstand the Romans, the Inhabitants made a heap of al● their riches, and furniture in the public place and having ranged upon this heap all the women and children, and piled them round wit● wood, and other combustible matter to take sudden Fire, and left fifty of their young me● for the Execution of that whereon they ha●● resolved: They made a deperate sally, where for want of power to overcome, they caused themselves to be every man slain. The fifty after having Massacred every living Soul throughout the whole City, and put Fire to this Pile, threw themselves last into it, finishing their generous liberty, rather after an insensible, than after a sorrowful and disgraceful manner, giving the Enemy to understand, that if fortune had been so pleased, they had as well the courage to snatch from them Victory, as they had to frustrate and render it dreadful, and even mortal to those who alured by the splendour of the Gold melting in this flame having approached it, a great number were there suffocated and burnt, being kept up from retiring by the crowed that followed after. The Abideans, being pressed by King Philip, put on the same resolution, but being kerbed so short, they could not put it in effect, the King who abhorred to see the temerarious precipitation of this Execution (the treasure and movables that they had variously condemned to Fire and water being first seized) drawing off his Soldiers granted them three days time to kill themselves in, that they might do it with more order, and at greater ease: which space they filled with Blood and slaughter, beyond the utmost excess of all hostil cruelty: So that not so much as any one Soul was left alive, that had power to destroy itself. There are infinite examples of like Popular conclusions which seem the more fierce, and cruel, by how much the effect is more universal, and yet are really less, than when singly executed▪ What arguments and persuasion cannot make upon every individual man, they can do upon all, the ardour of Society ravishing particular judgements. The condemned, who would live to be executed, in the Reign of Tiberius, forfeited their goods, and were denied the rite● of Sepulture, those who by killing themselves did anticipate it, were interred, and had liberty to dispose of their Estates by Will.  
But men sometimes covet death out of hope of a greater good. I desire (says St. Paul) to be with Christ, and who shall rid me of these bands? Cleombrotus Ambraciota, having read Plato's Phaedo, entered into so great a desire 〈◊〉 the life to come, that without any other occasion, he threw himself into the Sea. By which it appears, how improperly we call this voluntary dissolution, despair, to which the eagerness of hope does often incline us, and ofte● a calm and temperate desire proceeding from a mature and considerate judgement. Jacqu● du castle Bishop of Soissons, in St. Lewis his foreign expedition, seeing the King and whole Army upon the point of returning into France leaving the affairs of Religion imperfect, tool a resolution rather to go into Paradise, wherefore having taken solemn leave of his friends he charged alone in the sight of every on● into the Enemy's Army, where he was presently cut to pieces. In a certain Kingdom 〈◊〉 the new discovered World, upon a day of solemn Procession, when the Idol they adore is drawn about in public upon a Chariot of wonderful greatness; besides that several are then seen, cutting of cantells of their quick flesh to offer to him, there are a number of others who prostrate themselves upon the place, causing themselves to be crushed and broke to pieces with the weighty wheels to obtain the veneration of Sanctity after their death, which is accordingly paid them. The death of the forenamed Bishop with his sword in his hand has more of generosity in it, and less of feeling, the ardour of Combat taking away part of the later. There are some Governments, who have taken upon them to regulate the Justice and opportunity of voluntary death so much, as in former times, there was kept in our City of Marseilles a Poison prepared out of Hemlock at the public charge, for those who had a mind to hasten their end, having first before the six hundred, which were their Senate, given account of the reasons and motives of their design, and it was not otherwise Lawful, than by leave from the Magistrate, and upon just occasion to do violence to themselves. The same Law was also in use in other places. Sextus Pompeius in his Expedition into Asia touched at the Isle of Cea in Negropont: it accidentally happened whilst he was there, (as we have it from one that was with him) that a woman of great quality, having given an account to her Citizens why she was resolved to put an end to her life, invited Pompeius to her death, to render it the more honourable: an invitation that he unwillingly accepted: but having long tried in vai● by the power of his eloquence (which wa● very great) and dissuasion to divert her fro● that design, he acquieseed in the end in her ow● will. She had past the age of fourscore an● ten in a very happy Estate both of Body an● mind, but being then laid upon her bed, bette● dressed than ordinary, and leaning upon he● Elbow, the Gods, said she, O Sextus Pompeiu● and rather those I leave, than those I go to see● reward thee, for that thou hast not disdained 〈◊〉 be both the Counsellor of my life, and th● Witness of my death. For my part, having always tried the smiles of fortune, for 〈◊〉 lest the desire of living too long may ma●● me see a contrary face, I am going by a ha●●py end to dismiss the remains of my So●● leaving behind two daughters of my Bo●● and a Legion of Nephews: which having 〈◊〉 with some exhortations to her family to 〈◊〉 in peace, she divided amongst them her Good and recommending her domestic God's 〈◊〉 her eldest daughter, she boldly took the Bo●● that contained the Poison, and having ma●● her vows and prayers to Mercury, to co●●duct her to some happy abode in the oth●● World, she roundly swallowed the mortal P●●tion, which having done, she entertained 〈◊〉 company with the progress of its operati●● and how the cold by degrees seized the sectoral parts of her body one after another, 〈◊〉 having in the end told them it began to seize upon her heart and bowels, she called her daughters to do their last Office and close her Eyes. Pliny tells us of a certain Hyperborean Nation, where by reason of the sweet temperature of the Air, Lives did rarely end but by the voluntary surrender of the Inhabitants, but that being weary of, and sotted with living, they had a custom at a very old age, after having made good cheer, to precipitate themselves into the Sea from the top of a certain rock, destined for that service. Pain and the fear of a worse death seem to me the most excusable incitements.   

CHAP. IU. To morrow's a new Day.  
I Give, and I think with good reason, the Palm to Jaques Amiot of all our French Writers, not only for the propriety and purity of his language, wherein he excels all others, nor for his constancy in going through so long a work, nor for the depth of his knowledge, having been able so successfully to smooth and unravel so knotty and intricate an Author (for let People tell me what they will, I understand nothing of Greek, but I meet with sense so well united and maintained throughout his whole Translation, that certainly he either knew the true fancy of the Author, or having, by being long conversant with him, imprinted a lively and general ●dea of that of Plutarch in his Soul, 
The utility of the French Plutarch.  he has delivered us nothing, that either derogates from, or contradicts him) but above all, I am the most taken with him, for having made so discreet a choice of a Book so worthy, and of so great utility wherewith to present his Country. We dunces had been lost, had not this Book raised us out of the dirt, by this favour of his we dare now speak and write, the Ladies are able to read to Schoolmasters, 'tis our Breviary. If this good Man be yet living, I would recommend to him Xenophon, to do as much by that. 'Tis a much more easy task than the other, and consequently more proper for his age. And besides, I know not how, methinks, though he does briskly, and clearly enough trip over steps another would have stumbled at, that nevertheless his style seems to be more his own, where he does not encounter those difficulties and rolls away at his own ease. I was just now reading this passage, where Plutarch says of himself, that Rusticus being present at a Declamation of his at Rome, he there received a Packet from the Emperor, and deferred to open it till all was done: for which, says he, all the company highly applauded the gravity of this person. 'Tis true, that being upon the discourse of that curiosity, and that eager passion for news, which makes us with so much indiscretion and impatience, leave all to entertain a new comer and without any manner of respect, or civility tear open on a sudden, in what company soever, the Letters are delivered to us, he had reason to applaud the gravity of Rusticus upon this occasion, and might moreover have added to it the commendation of his civility and courtesy, that would not interrupt the current of his Declamation. But I doubt, whether any one can commend his prudence; for receiving unexpected Letters, and especially from an Emperor, it might have fallen out, that the deferring to read them might have been of great prejudice. 
Negligence the opposite vice to Curiosity.  The vice opposite to curiosity is negligence, to which I naturally incline, and wherein I have seen some Men so extreme, that one might have found the Letters had been sent them three or four days before, still sealed up in their pockets. I never open any Letters directed to another, not only those entrusted with me, but even such as fortune has guided to my hand; and am very angry with myself, if my Eyes unawares steal any contents of Letters of importance he is reading, when I stand near a great Man. Never was Man less inquisitive, or less prying into other men's affairs, than I. In our Father's days, Monsieur de Boutieres had like to have lost Turin, for having, being engaged in good company at supper, deferred to read an Advertisement was sent him of the Treason was plotted against that City, where he commanded. And this very Plutarch has given me to understand, that Julius Caesar had preserved himself, if going to the Senate the day he was assassinated by the Conspirators, he had read a Ticket was presented to him by the way. He tells also the Story of Archias the Tyrant of Thebes, that the night before the execution of the design Pelopidas had plotted to kill him, to restore his Country to liberty, he had an account sent him in writing by another Archias an Athenian of the whole conspiracy, and that this packet having been delivered to him while he sat at supper, he deferred the opening of it, saying, which afterward turned to a Proverb in Greece, To morrow is a new day. A wise man may, I confess, out of respect to another, as not to disturb the Company, as Rusticus did, or not to break off another affair of importance in hand, defer to read, or hear any new thing that is brought him; but for his own interest, or particular pleasure, especially if he be a public Minister, that he will not interrupt his dinner, or break his sleep, he is inexcusable. And there was anciently at Rome, the Consular place, as they called it, which was the most honourable at the Table, for being a place of most liberty, and of more convenient access to those who came in to take with the person seated there. By which it appears, that for being at meat, they did not totally abandon the concern of other affairs and accidents. But when all is said, it is very hard in human actions, to give so exact a Rule upon the best grounds, that fortune will not have a hand in them, and maintain her own right.   

CHAP. V. Of Conscience.  
THE Sieur de la Brousse my Brother, and I, travelling one day together during the time of our Civil Wars, met a Gentleman of good fashion, he was of the contrary party, though I did not know so much, for he pretended otherwise: and the mischief on't is, that in this sort of War, the Cards are so shuffled, an Enemy not being distinguished from a friend, by any apparent mark either of language or habit, nourished under the same Laws, air and manners, that it is very hard to avoid disorder and confusion. This made me afraid myself of meeting any of our Troops in a Place where I was not known, that I might not be in fear to tell my name, and peradventure of something worse. As it had befallen me before, where, by such a mistake, I lost both men and horses, and amongst others an Italian Gentleman my Page, that I bred with the greatest care and affection, miserably slain, in whom a promising youth and of great expectation was unfortunately extinguished. But the Gentleman, my Brother and I met, had so strange a fear upon him, at the meeting with any horse, or passing by any of the Towns that held for the King, that I at last discovered them to be alarms of Conscience, and the poor man seemed to be in such a condition, as if through his visor, and the crosses upon his Cassock, one might have penetrated into his bosom, and read the most secret intentions of his heart. So wonderful is the power of Conscience, that makes us betray, accuse and fight against ourselves; and for want of other witnesses, to give evidence against ourselves.  


Juven. Sat. 13.  Occultum quatiens animo tortore flagellum.   

Conscience the tortu'rer of the Soul, unseen  
Does fiercely brandish a sharp scourge within.   
This Story is in every child's mouth, Bessus the Poeonian, being reproached with ill nature for pulling down a nest of young sparrows, and killing them, replied, that he had reason so to do, seeing that those little birds never ceased falsely to accuse him of the murder of his Father. 
Strange discovery of a Parricide.  This Parricide had till then been concealed and unknown, but the revenging fury of Conscience caused it to be discovered by him himself, who was justly to suffer for it. Hesiod corrects the saying of Plato, That punishment closely follows sin, it being, as he says, born at the same time with it. Whoever expects punishment, already suffers it, and whoever has deserved it, expects it. Wickedness contrives torments against itself. Malum consilium consultori pessimum. Ill designs are worst to the contriver. 
Erasm. Adag.  As the wasp stings and offends another, but most of all itself; for it there loses the sting, and the use of it for ever.  

— Vitásque in vulnere ponunt.   

And do their own lives stake, 
Virg. Ge●. lib. 4.   
In the small wound they make.   
Cantharideses have somewhere about them, by a contrariety of nature, a counterpoison against their poison. In like manner at the same time that men take delight in vice, there springs in the Conscience a displeasure, that afflicts us sleeping and waking with several tormenting imaginations.  

Quip ubi se multi per somnia soepe loquentes 
Lucret. lib. 5.   
Aut morbo delirantes procreasse ferantur,  
Et celata diu in medium peccata dedisse.   

The guilty hardly their own counsel keep,  
They either will by talking in their sleep;  
Or in a fever raving, will reveal  
What they long had, and still meant to conceal.   
Apollodorus dreamt, that he saw himself flayed by the Scythians, and after boiled in a Cauldron, and that his heart muttered these words, I am the cause of all these mischiefs have befallen thee. Epicurus said, that no hiding hole could conceal the wicked, since they could never assure themselves of being hid, whilst their conscience discovered them to themselves.  

— Prima est hoec ultio, quòd se  

Juven. Sat. 13.  Judice nemo nocens absoluitur.   

— 'Tis the first punishment of sin,  
That no Man does absolve himself within.   
As Conscience fills us with fear when ill, so a good one gives us greater confidence and assurance; and I can truly say, that I have gone through several hazards with a more steady pace, in consideration of the secret knowledge I had of my own will, and the innocency of my intentions.  


Ovid. Fast. lib. 1.  Conscia mens ut cuique sud est, ita concipit intra  
Pectora pro facto spémque metúmque suo.   

As a Man's Conscience is, so hope within,  
Or fear prevails, suiting to his design.   
Of this are a thousand examples; but it will be enough to instance three of one, and the same person Scipio, being one day accused before the People of Rome of some Crimes of a very high nature, in stead of excusing himself, or insinuating into the favour of his Judges, 
The confident innocency of Scipio.  It will become you very well (said he) to sit in Judgement upon a head, by whom you have the power to judge all the World. And another time, all the answer he gave to several Impeachments brought against him by a Tribune of the People, in stead of making his defence; let us go, Citizens, said he, let us go render thanks to the Gods for the Victory they gave over the Carthaginians as this day, and advancing himself before towards the Temple, he had presently all the Assembly and his very Accuser himself following at his heels. And Petilius having been set on by Cato to demand an account of the money had passed through his hands in the Province of Antioch, Scipio being come into the Senate to that purpose, produced a Book from under his Robe, wherein he told them was an exact account of his receipts and disbursments; but being required to deliver it to the Pronotary to be examined and enroled, he refused, saying, he would not do himself so great a disgrace; and in the presence of the whole Senate tore the Book with his own hands to pieces. I do not believe that the most feared Conscience could have counterfeited so great an assurance. He had naturally too high a spirit, and was accustomed to too high a fortune, says Titus Livius, to know how to be criminal, and to dispose himself to the meanness of defending his innocency. This putting men to the Rack is a dangerous invention, and seems to be rather a trial of patience than truth. Both he who has the fortitude to endure it, conceals the truth, and he who has not: for why should pain sooner make me to confess what really is, than force me to say what is not? And on the contrary, if he who is not guilty of that whereof he is accused, has the courage to undergo those torments, why should not he who is guilty have the same, so fair a reward as life being in his prospect? I think the ground of this invention proceeds from the consideration of the force of Conscience. For to the guilty it seems to assist the Rack to make him confess his fault, and to shake his resolution, and on the other side, that it fortifies the innocent against the torture. But when's all's done, 'tis in plain truth a trial full of incertainty and danger. What would not a man say, what would not a man do to avoid so intolerable torments?  

Etiam innocentes cogit mentiri dolour.   


Pub. Sy. min. de dolore.  Pain the most innocent will make to lie.   
Whence it comes to pass, that he whom the Judge has racked, that he may not die innocent, he makes him die both innocent and racked. A thousand and a thousand have charged their own heads by false confessions. Amongst which I place Philotas, considering the circumstances of the Trial Alexander put him upon, and the progress of his torture. But so it is (says one) that it is the least evil humane weakness could invent; very inhumanely notwithstanding, and to very little purpose in my opinion. Many Nations less Barbarous in this, than the Greeks and Romans who call them so, repute it horrible and cruel, to torment and pull a man to pieces for a fault of which they are yet in doubt. How can he help your ignorance? Are not you unjust, that, not to kill him without cause, do worse than kill him? And that this is so, do but observe how many ways he had rather die without Reason, than undergo this Examination, more painful than Execution itself; and that ofttimes, by its extremity, prevents Execution, and dispatches him. I know not where I had this Story: but it exactly matches the Conscience of our Justice in this particular. A Country woman, to a General of very severe Discipline, accused one of his Soldiers, that he had taken from her Children the little milk she had lest to nourish them withal, the Army having consumed all the rest: but of this, Proof there was none. The General, after having cautioned the woman to take good heed to what she said, for that she would make herself guilty of a false Accusation, if she told a lie; and she persisting, he presently caused the Soldier's belly to be ripped up, to clear the truth of the fact, and the Woman was found to be in the right. An instructive Sentence.   

CHAP. VI Use makes Perfectness.  
'TIS not to be expected, that Argument and Instruction, though we never so voluntarily surrender our belief to what is read to us, should be of force to lead us on so far as to Action, if we do not over and above exercise and form the Soul by Experience to the course for which we design it: it will otherwise doubtless find itself at a loss, when it comes to the pinch of the business. This is the reason, why those amongst the Philosophers, who were ambitious to attain to a greater excellence, were not contented to expect the severities of fortune in their retirement, and repose of their own habitations, lest she should have surprised them raw and unexpert in the Combat; but sallied out to meet her, and purposely threw themselves into the proof of difficulties. Some of which abandoned Riches to exercise themselves in a voluntary proverty: others have sought out labour, and an austerity of life, to inure them to hardships and inconveniencies; others have deprived themselves of their dearest members, as of their sight and instruments of Generation, left their too delightful and effeminate service should soften and debauch the stability of their Souls. But in dying, which is the greatest work we have to do, Practice is out of doors, and can give us no assistance at all. A man may by custom fortify himself against pains, shame, necessity and such like accidents; but, as to death, we can experiment it but once, and are all Apprentices when we come to it. There have anciently been men so excellent managers of their time, that they have tried, even in death itself, to relish and taste it, and who have bend their utmost faculties of mind to discover, what this passage is: but they are none of them come back to tell us the news.  

— Nemo expergitus extat, 
Lucret. lib. 3.   
Frigida quem semel est vitai pausa secuta.   

— No one was ever known to wake,  
Who once in deaths cold arms a nap did take.   
Canius Julius, a noble Roman, of singular constancy and virtue, having been condemned to die by that Beast Caligula, besides many admirable testimonies that he gave of his resolution, as he was just going to receive the stroke of the Executioner, was asked by a Philosopher, a friend of his; well Canius, said he, wherabout is your Soul now? What is she doing? What are you thinking of? I was thinking, replied the other, to keep myself ready and the faculties of my mind settled and fixed, to try if in this short and quick instant of death, I could perceive the motion of the Soul when she parts from the body, and whether she has any resentment at the separation, that I may after come again if I can, to acquaint my friends with it. This man Philosophizes not unto death only, but in death self. What a strange assurance was this, and what bravery of courage, to desire his death should be a lesson to him, and to have leisure to think of other things in so great an affair?  

— Jus hoc animi morientis habebat.   

This mighty power of mind he dying had.   

Luc. lib. ●.  And yet I fancy, there is a certain way of making it familiar to us, and in some sort of making trial, what it is. We may gain experience, if not entire and perfect, yet such at least, as shall not be totally useless to us; and that may render us more assured. If we cannot overtake it, we may approach it and view it, and if we do not advance so far as to the Fort, we may at least discover it, and make ourselves perfect in the Avenues. It is not without reason that we are taught to consider sleep, as a resemblance of death. With how great facility do we pass from waking to sleeping, and with how little concern do we lose the knowledge of light, 
Sleep the Image of Death.  and of ourselves! Peradventure the faculty of sleeping would seem useless and contrary to nature, being it deprives us of all action and sense, were it not that by it Nature instructs us, that she has equally made us to die, as to live, and from life presents us the Eternal Estate, she reserves for us after it, to accustom us to it, and to take from us the fear of it. But such, as have by some violent accident fallen into a swoon, and in it have lost all sense, these, methinks, have been very near seeing the true and natural face of death; for as to the moment of the passage, it is not to be feared that it brings with it any pain, or displeasure, for as much as we can have no feeling without leisure; Our sufferings require time, which in death is so short and so precipitous, that it must necessarily be insensible. They are the approaches that we are to fear, and those may fall within the limits of experience. Many things seem greater by imagination, than they are in effect. I have passed a good part of my age in a perfect and entire health; I say, not only entire; but moreover sprightly and wanton. This estate, so full of verdure, jollity and vigour, made the consideration of sickness so formidable to me, that when I came to experiment it, I found the attacques faint, and easy in comparison of what I had apprehended. Of this I have daily experience; If I am under the shelter of a warm room, in a stormy and tempestuous night, I wonder how People can live abroad, and am afflicted for those who are out in the 〈◊〉: If I am there myself, I do not wish to be any where else. This one thing of being always shut up in a chamber I fancied insupportable: but I was presently inur'd to be so imprisoned a week, nay a month together. And have found that in the time of my health, I did much more lament the sick, than I think myself to be lamented when I am so, and that the force of my imagination enhances near one half of the essence and reality of the thing. I hope that when I come to die I shall find the same, and that I shall not find it worth the pains I take, so much preparation and so much assistance as I call in, to undergo the stroke. But we cannot give ourselves too much advantage at all adventures.  
In the time of our third, or second troubles, (I do not well remember which) going one day abroad to take the air, about a league from my own house, which is seated in the very Centre of all the bustle and mischief of the late Civil wars of France, thinking myself in all security, and so near to my retreat that I stood in need of no better Equipage, I had taken a horse that went very easy upon his pace, but was not very strong. Being upon my return home, a sudden occasion falling out to make use of this horse, in a kind of service that he was not acquainted with; one of my train, a lusty proper fellow, mounted upon a strong Germane horse, that had a very ill mouth, but was otherwise vigorous and unfoild; to play the Bravo and appear a better man than his fellows, comes thundering full speed in the very tract where I was, rushing like a Colossus upon the little man, and the little horse, with such a career of strength and weight, that he turned us both over and over, topsy turvy with our heels in the air: so that there lay the horse over thrown and stun'd with the fall, and I ten or twelve paces from him stretched out at length, with my face all battered and broken, my sword which I had in my hand, above ten paces beyond that, and my belt broke all to pieces, without motion or sense any more than a stock. 'Twas the only swoon I was ever in till this hour in my life. Those who were with me, after having used all the means they could to bring me to myself, concluding me dead, took me up in their arms, and carried me with very much difficulty home to my house; which was about half a French league from thence▪ Having been by the way and two long hours after, given over for a dead man, I began to move and to fetch my breath; for so great abundance of blood was fallen into my stomach, that Nature had need to rouse her forces to discharge it. They then raised me upon my feet, where I threw off a great quantity of pure Florid blood, as I had also done several times by the way, which gave me so much ease, that I began to recover a little life, but so leisurely and by so small advances, that my first sentiments were much near the approaches of death than life.  

Perche dubbiosa anchor del suo ritorna  
Non s'assecura attonita la ment. 
T●sso. Cant. ●●    

Because the Soul her mansion half had quit,  
And was not sure she was returned to it.   
The remembrance of this accident, which is very well imprinted in my memory, so naturally representing to me the Image and Idea of death, has in some sort reconciled me to that untoward accident. When I first began to ●pen my eyes after my trance, it was with so perplexed, so weak and dead a sight, that I could yet distinguish nothing and could only discern the light.  

— Come quel ch'or apre, or chiude  

Tasso. Cant. 8.  Gli occhi, mezzo tra'l sonno è l'esser desto.   

As people in the morning when they rise,  
'Twixt sleep, and wake open and shut their eyes.   
As to the functions of the Soul, they advanced with the same pace and measure with those of the Body. I saw myself all bloody, my doublet being stained and spotted all over with the blood I had vomited; and the first thought that came into my mind, was, that I had a Harquebus shot in my head: and indeed at the same time, there were a great many fired round about us. Methought, my life but just hung upon my lips; and I shut my eyes, to help, methought, to thrust it out; and took a pleasure in languishing and letting myself go. It was an imagination that only superficially slo●ed upon my Soul, as tender and weak as all the rest, but really, not only exempt from pain, but mixed with that sweetness and pleasure that People are sensible of, when they indulge themselves to drop into a slumber. I believe it is the very same condition those People are in, whom we see to swoon with weakness, in she agony of death, and am of opinion that we lament them without cause, supposing them agitated with grievous dolours, or that their Souls suffer under painful thoughts. It has ever been my belief, contrary to the opinion of many and particularly of Stephen Boetius, that those whom we see so subdued and stupefied at the approaches of their end, or depressed with the length of the disease, or by accident of an Apoplexy, or falling Sickness.  

(Vi morbi saepe coactus 
Lucret. lib. 3.   
Ante oculos aliquis nostros ut fulminis ictu  
Concidit, & spumas agit, ingemit, & fremit artus,  
Desipit, extentat nervos, torquetur, anhelat,  
Inconstanter et in jactando membra fatigat.)   

By the disease compelled so we see some,  
As they were thunder-struk, fall, groan and foam  
Tremble, stretch, writh, breath short, until at length  
In various struggle they tyre out their strength.)   
Or hurt in the head, whom we hear to mutter and by fits to utter grievous groans, though we gather from thence some sign by which it seems as if they had some remains of sense and knowledge, I have always believed, I say, both the Body and the Soul benumned, and asleep.  

Vivit & est vitae nescius ipse suae. 
Ovid Tust. lib. 1. Eleg. 3.    

He lives, but does not know,  
That he does so.   
And could not believe that in so great a stupefaction of the members and so great a defection of the senses, the ●oul could maintain any force within, to take cognizance of herself or look into her own condition, and that therefore they had no tormenting reflections, to make them consider and be sensible of the misery of their condition, and consequently were not much to be lamented. I can for my part think of no estate so insupportable and dreadful, as to have the Soul sprightly and afflicted without means to declare itself: as one should say of such who are sent to Execution, with their tongues first cut out; were it not that in this kind of dying, the most silent seems to me the most graceful, if accompanied with a grave and constant countenance; or of those miserable Prisoners, who fall into the hands of the base bloody Soldiers of this Age, by whom they are tormented with all sorts of inhuman usage, to compel them to some excessive and impossible ransom; kept in the mean time in such condition and place, where they have no means of expressing, or signifying their mind and misery, to such as they may expect should relieve them. The Poets have feigned some Gods, who favour the deliverance of such as suffer under a languishing death.  

— Hunc ego Diti  
Sacrum jussa fero, téque isto corpore solvo. 
Aeneid. lib. 4.    

I by command offer to Pluto this,  
And from that body do the Soul dismiss.   
Both the interrupted words, and the short and irregular answers one gets from them sometimes, by bawling and keeping a clutter about them; or the motions which seem to yield some consent to what we would have them do, are no testimony nevertheless that they live an entire life at least. So it happens that in the yawning of sleep, before it has fully possessed us to perceive, as in a dream, what is done about us, and to follow the last things are said with a perplexed and uncertain hearing, which seem but to touch upon the borders of the Soul; and make answers to the last words have been spoken to us, which have more in them of fortune than sense. Now seeing I have effectually tried it, I make no doubt but I have hitherto made a right judgement. For first, being in a swoon, I laboured with both hands to rip open the buttons of my doublet, (for I was without arms) and yet I felt nothing in my imagination that hurt me; for we have many motions in us, that do not proceed from our direction.  

Semianimésque micant digiti, ferrúmque retractant. 
Id. lib. 10.    

And half-dead fingers grope about and feel,  
To grasp again the late abandoned steel.   
So falling People extend their arms before them by a natural impulse, which prompts them to offices and motions, without any Commission from us.  


Lucret. lib. 3.  Falciferos memorant currus abscindere membra,  
Vt tremere in terra videatur ab artubus, id quod  
Decidit abscissum, cum mens tamen atque hominis  
Mobilitate mali non quit sentire dolorem.   

How limbs syth-bearing Chariots lopped, they tell  
Would move and tremble on the ground they fell,  
When he himself, from whom the limb was ta'en,  
Could by the swiftness feel no kind of pain.   
My stomach was so oppressed with the coagulated blood, that my hands moved to that part, of their own voluntary motion, as they frequently do to the part that itches, without being directed by our Will. There are several Animals and even Men, in whom one may perceive the muscles to stir and tremble after they are dead. Every one experimentally knows, that there are some members, which grow stiff and slag without his leave. Now those passions which only touch the outward Bark of us, as a man may say, cannot be said to be ours: to make them so, there must be a concurrence of the whole man and the pains, which are felt by the hand or the foot while we are sleeping, are none of ours. As I drew near my own house, where the Alarm of my fall was already got before me, and that my family were come out to meet me, with the hubbub usual in such cases; I did not only make some little answer to some questions were asked me, but they moreover tell me, that I had so much sense, as to order that a horse I saw trip and falter in the way, which is mountainous and uneasy, should be given to my wife. This consideration should seem to proceed from a Soul, that retained its functions; but it was nothing so with me. I knew not what I said or did, and they were nothing but idle thoughts in the clouds, that were stirred up by the senses of the eyes and ears, and proceeded not from me. I knew not for all that, or whence I came, or whither I went, neither was I capable to weigh and consider what was said to me: these were light effects, that the senses produced of themselves, as of custom, what the Soul contributed was in a dream, as being lightly touched, licked and bedewed by the soft impression of the senses. Notwithstanding, my condition was in truth very easy and quiet, I had no afflictions upon me, either for others or myself. It was an extreme drooping and weakness without any manner of pain. I saw my own house, but knew it not. When they had put me to bed, I found an inexpressible sweetness in that repose; for I had been damnably tugged and lugged by those poor People, who had taken the pains to carry me upon their Arms a very great and a very ill way, and had in so doing all quite tired out themselves twice or thrice one after another. They offered me several remedies, but I would take none, certainly believing that I was mortally wounded in the head. And in earnest, it had been a very happy death, for the weakness of my understanding deprived me of the faculty of discerning, and that of my body from the sense of feeling. I suffered myself to glide away so sweetly and after so soft and easy a manner, that I scarce find any other action less troublesome than that was. But when I came again to myself and to reassume my faculties.  

Vt tandem sensus convaluere mei,   


Ovid. Trist. lib. 1. Eleg. 3.  As my lost senses did again return,   
Which was two or three hours after, I felt myself on a sudden involved in terrible pain, having my limbs shattered and grouned to pieces with my fall, and was so exceeding ill two or three nights after, that I thought once more to die again, but a more painful death, having concluded myself as good as dead before, and to this hour am sensible of the bruises of that terrible shock. I will not here omit, that the last thing I could make them beat into my head, was the memory of this accident, and made it be over and over again repeated to me, whither I was going, from whence I came, and at what time of the day this mischance besel me, before I could comprehend it. As to the manner of my fall, that was concealed from me in favour to him, who had been the occasion, and other slimflams were invented to palliate the truth. But a long ●●me a●●er and the very next day that my memory began to return and to represent to me the e●●ate wherein I was, at the Instant that I perceived this horse coming full drive upon me (for I had seen him come thundering at my heels, and gave myself for gone: But this thought had been so sudden, that fear had had no leisure to introduce itself) it seemed to me like a flash of lightning that had pierced through my Soul, and that I came from the other World.  
This long Story, of so light an accident, would appear vain enough, were it not for the knowledge I have gained by it for my own use; for I do really find, that to be acquainted with death, is no more but nearly to approach it. Every one, as Pliny says, is a good Doctrine to himself, provided he be capable of discovering himself near at hand. This is not my Doctrine, 'tis my study; and is not the lesson of another, but my own, and yet if I communicate it, it ought not to be ill taken. That which is of use to me, may also peradventure be useful to another. As to the rest, I spoil nothing, I make use of nothing but my own; and if I play the fool, 'tis at my own expense and no body else is concerned in't: for 'tis a folly, that will die with me and that no one is to inherit. We hear but of two or three of the Ancients, who have beaten this Road, and yet I cannot say, if it be after this manner, knowing no more of them but their names. Not one since has followed the tract: 'tis a tickle subject and more nice than it seems, to follow a pace so extravagant and uncertain, as that of the Soul; to penetrate the dark Profundities of their intricate internal windings; to choose and lay hold of so many little graces and nimble motions, and a new and extraordinary undertaking, and that withdraws us from the common and most recommended employments of the World. 'Tis now many years since, that my thoughts have had no other aim and levelly, than myself, and that I have only pried into and studied myself: Or if I study any other thing, 'tis to lay it up for and to apply it to myself. And yet I do not think it a fault, if, as others do by other much less profitable Sciences, I communicate what I have learned in this affair: though I am not very well pleased with what I have writ upon this Subject. There is no description so difficult, nor doubtless of so great utility, as that of a Man's self. And withal a Man must curl, set out and adjust himself to appear in public. Now I am perpetually tricking myself; for I am eternally upon my own description. Custom has made all speaking of a Man's self vicious and does positively interdict it, in hatred to the vanity, that seems inseparably joined with the testimony men give of themselves. I do not know that necessarily follows; but allowing it to be true, and that it must of necessity be presumption to entertain the people with Discourses of one's self: I ought not, pursuing my general Design, to forbear an action that publishes this Infirmity of mine; nor conceal the Fault which I not only practise, but profess. Notwithstanding, to speak my thought freely, I do think that the custom of condemning Wine, because some people will be drunk, is itself to be condemned. A man cannot abuse any thing but what is good in itself; and I believe that this Rule has only regard to the popular Vice: they are Bits, with which neither the Saints whom we hear speak so highly of themselves, nor the Philosophers, nor the Divines will be curbed; neither will I, who am as little the one as the other: Of what does Socrates treat more largely, than of himself? To what does he more direct, and address the Discourses of his Disciples, than to speak of themselves, not of the Lesson in the Book, but of the Essence and Motion of their Souls? We confess ourselves Religiously to God, and our Confessor; and, as they are our Neighbours to all the people. But some will answer, and say, that we there speak nothing but Accusation against ourselves: Why then we say all, for our very Virtue itself is faulty and penitable; my Trade and Art is to live. He that forbids me to speak according to my own Sense, Experience and Practice, may as well enjoin an Architect not to speak of Building according to his own knowledge, but according to that of his Neighbour; according to the knowledge of another, and not according to his own. If it be Vainglory for a man to publish his own Virtues, why does not Cicero prefer the Eloquence of Hortensius, and Hortensius that of Cicero? Peradventure they mean, that I should give testimony of myself by Works and Effects, not barely by Words: I chiefly paint my Thoughts, an Inform Subject, and incapable of Operative Production. 'Tis all that I can do to couch it in this airery body of the Voice. The Wisest and Devoutest Men have lived in the greatest Care to avoid all discovery of Works: Effects would more speak of Fortune, than of me. They manifest their own Office, and not mine; but uncertainly, and by conjecture: They are but Patterns of some one particular Virtue I expose myself entire: 'tis a Skeleton where at one view the Veins, Muscles, and Tendons are apparent every of them in its proper place. I do not write my own Acts, but myself and my Essence: I am of opinion, that a man must be very wise to value himself, and equally conscientious, to give a true Report; be it better or worse, indifferently: If I thought myself perfectly good and wise, I would speak with open mouth, and rattle it out to some purpose. To speak less of a man's self, than what one really is, is folly, not modesty; and to take that for currant pay, which is under a man's value, is Pusillanimity and Cowardice, according to Aristotle. No Virtue assists itself with Falsehood; Truth is never the Master of Error: To speak more of ones self, than is really true, is not always Presumption, 'tis moreover very often Folly: ●o be immeasurably pleased with what one is, and to fall into an indiscreet self-love, is in my opinion the Substance of this Vice. The most Sovereign Remedy to cure it, is to do quite contrary to what these people direct, who in forbidding men to speak of themselves, do consequently at the same time interdict thinking of themselves too. Pride dwells in the Thought, the Tongue can have but a very little share in it: They fancy, that to think of ones self is to be delighted with himself; to frequent, and to converse with a man's self, to be over-indulgent. But this Excess springs only in those, who only take of themselves a Superficial View, and dedicate their main Inspection to their Affairs; that call Meditation, raving and idleness, looking upon themselves as a third person only, and a stranger. If any one be ravished with his own Knowledge, whilst he looks only on those below him; let him but turn his Eye upward towards past Ages, and his Pride will be abated, when he shall there find so many thousand Wits that trample him under foot. If he enter into a flattering vanity of his personal Valour, let him but recollect the Lives of Scipio, Epaminondas, so many Armies and Nations that leave him so far behind them, and he will be cured of his Self-opinion. No particular Quality can make any man proud, that will at the same time put so many other meek and imperfect ones as he has in him in the other Scale, and the Nothingness of Humane Condition to balance the weight: Because Socrates had alone swallowed to purpose the Precept of his God, To know himself, and by that study was arrived to the perfection of setting himself at naught; he was only reputed worthy the Title of a Sage. Whosoever shall so know himself, let him boldly speak it out.   

CHAP. VII. Of Recompenses of Honour.  
THey who write the Life of Augustus Caesar, observe this in his Military Discipline, That he was wonderfully liberal of Gifts to Men of Merit; but that as to the true Recompenses of Honour, he was as sparing. So it is, that he had himself been gratified by his Uncle with all the Military Recompenses, before he had ever been in the Field. It was a pretty Invention, and received into most Governments of the World, to Institute certain vain and insignificant Distinctions to Honour and recompense Virtue; such as the Crowns of Laurel, Oak, and Myrrh, the particular Fashion of some Garment, the privilege to ride in a Coach in the City, or to have a Torch by Night; some peculiar place assigned in public Assemblies; the Prerogative of certain additional Names and Titles; certain Distinctions in their bearing of Coats of Arms, and the like: The use of which, according to the several Humours of Nations, has been variously received, and do yet continue. We in France, 
Orders of Knighthood instituted to reward Military Virtue.  as also several of our Neighbous, have the Orders of Knighthood, that are instituted only for this end. And 'tis in earnest a very good and profitable Custom, to find out an Acknowledgement for the Worth of Rare and Excellent Men; and to satisfy their Ambition with Rewards, that are not at all Chargeable either to Prince or People: And that which has been always found both by ancient Experience; and that we ourselves may also have observed in our own times; that men of Quality have ever been more jealous of such Recompenses, than of those wherein there was Gain and Profit, is not without very good ground and reason. If with Reward, which ought to be simply a Recompense of Honour, they should mix other Emoluments, and add Riches; this mixture in stead of procuring an increase of Estimation, would vilify and abate it. The Order of St. Michael, which has been so long in repute amongst us, had no other, 
The Order of Saint Michael.  nor greater Commodity, than that it had no communication with any other; which produced this Effect, that formerly there was no Office, nor Title whatever, to which the Gentry pretended with so great Desire and Affection, as they did to that; nor Quality that carried with it more Respect and Grandeur: Virtue more willingly embracing, and, with greater Ambition, aspiring to a Recompense truly her own, and rather Honourable than Beneficial: For intruth, the other Rewards have not so great a Dignity of Usage, by reason they are laid out upon all sorts of Occasions. With Money a man pays the Wages of a Servant, the Diligence of a Courier, Dancing, Vaulting, Speaking, and the vilest Offices we receive; nay, and reward Vice with it too; as Flattery, Treachery, and Pimping: and therefore 'tis no wonder if Virtue does less desire, and less willingly receive this common sort of Payment, than that which is proper and peculiar to her, throughout Generous and Noble. Augustus had reason to be a better Husband, and more sparing of this, than the other; by how much Honour is a Privilege that extracts its principal Esteem from Rarity, and Virtue its self. 


Mart. lib. 2. Epig. 82.  Cui malus est nemo, quis bonus esse potest?   

To whom none seemeth ill, who good can seem?   We do not intend it for a Commendation, when we say, that such a one is careful in the Education of his Children: by reason it is a common Act, how just and well done soever; no more than we commend a great Tree, where the whole Forest is the same. I do not think that any Citizen of Sparta valued himself much upon his Valour, 
Valour of the Citizens of Sparta.  it being the universal Virtue of the whole Nation, and as little glorified himself upon his Fidelity, and contempt of Riches. There is no Recompense due to Virtue, how great soever, that is once past into a Custom; and I know not withal, whether we can ever call it Great, being Common. Seeing that these Remunerations of Honour have no other Value and Estimation, but only this, That few people enjoy them; 'tis but to be liberal of them, to bring them down to nothing. And though there should be now more men found than in former times worthy of our Order, the estimation of it nevertheless should not be abated, nor the honour made cheap. And it may easily fall out, that more may merit it; for there is no Virtue that so easily dilates itself, as that of Military Valour: There is another true, perfect, and Philosophical, of which I do not speak, (and only make use of the word in the common acceptation) much greater than this, and more full, which is a force and assurance of Souls, equally disposing all sorts of adverse Accidents, equal, uniform, and constant; of which ours is no more, than one little Ray. Usance, Precept, Example and Custom, can do all in all to the establishment of that whereof I am speaking, and with great facility render it vulgar, as by the experience of our Civil War is manifest enough; and whoever could at this instant unite us Catholic and Huguenot into one Body, and set us upon some brave Enterprise, we should again make our ancient Military Reputation to flourish. It is most certain, that in times past, the Recompense of this Order, had not only a regard to Valour, but had a further Prospect. It never was the Reward of a Valiant Soldier, but of a Great Captain. The Science of obeying was not reputed worthy of so honourable a Guerdon, there was therein a more Universal Military Expertness required, and that comprehended the most and the greatest Qualities of a Military man; Neque enim eaedem Militares & Imperatoriae artes sunt. For the Military knowledge required in a common Soldier and a General, are not the same; as also besides a Condition suitable to such a Dignity. But I say, that though more men were worthy than formerly; yet ought it not to be more liberally distributed, and that it were better to fall short in not giving it to all to whom it should be acknowledged due, than for ever to lo●e, as we have lately done, the Fruit of so profitable an Invention. No man of Spirit will d●ign to advantage himself with what is in common wi●h many: And such of the present time, as have lest merited this Recompense, make the greater show of didaining it, being thereby to be ranked with those, to whom so much wrong has been done, by the unworthy conferring and debasing the Character, which was 〈◊〉 particular right. Now to expect that in obliterating and abolishing this suddenly, 
The Order of the Holy Ghost.  to create and bring into credit a like new Institution, is not a proper Attempt for so licentious and so sick a Time as this, wherein we now are▪ and it will fall out, that the last will from its birth incur the same Inconveniences, that have ruined the oth●●. The Rules for the dispensing of this New Order, had need to be extremely clipped, and bound under great Restrictions to give it Authority; and this tumultuous Season is incapable of such a Curb: Besides, that before this can be brought into Repute, 'tis necessary that the Memory of the first, and the Contempt into which it is fallen, be totally buried in Oblivion.  
This place might naturally enough admit of some Discourse upon the Consideration of Valour, and the Difference of this Virtue from others: But Plutarch having so often handled this Subject, I should give myself an unnecessary Trouble to repeat what he has said; but this is worth considering, That our Nation place Valour in the Highest Degree of Virtue; as the very Word does evidence, being derived from Value, and that according to our Usance when we decipher a Worthy Man, or a Man of Value; only in our Court style, to say a Valiant Man, after the Roman way: For the general Appellation of Virtue with them, taketh Etymology from Force. The proper, sole, and essential Method of the French Nobleness, is the Practice of Arms: And 'tis likely that the first Virtue which discovered its self amongst Men, and that has given some Advantage over others, was this; by which the Strongest and most Valiant have Lorded it over the Weaker, and Entailed upon themselves a particular Authority and Reputation: Or else that these Nations being very Warlike, has given the Pre-eminence to that of the Virtues which was most familiar to them, and that they thought of the most worthy Character. Just as our Passion and the Feverish Solicitude we have of the Chastity of Woman, makes that to say, A good Woman, a Woman of Worth; and a Woman of Honour and Virtue, signify no more but a chaste Woman: as if to Oblige her to that one Duty, we were indifferent as to all the rest, and gave them the Reins to all other Faults whatever, to compound for that one of Incontinence.   

CHAP. VIII. Of the Affection of Fathers to their Children. To Madam D'ESTISSAC.  
MAdam, If the Strangeness and Novelty of my Subject which are wont to give Value to things, do not save me, I shall never come off with Honour from this foolish Attempt: But 'tis so Fantastic, and carries a Face so unlike the common Usance, that that peradventure may make it pass. 'Tis a Melancholic Humour, and consequently an Humour very much an Enemy to my Natural Complexion, engendered by the Pensiveness of the Solitude, into which for some years past I have retired myself, that first put into my head this idle Fancy of Writing: Wherein finding myself totally Unprovided and Empty of other Matter, I presented myself to myself for Argument and Subject. 'Tis the only Book in the World of its kind, and of a wild and extravagant Design; there is nothing worth Remark but the Extravagancy in this Affair: for in a Subject so vain and frivolous, the best Workman in the World could not have given it a Form fit to recommend it to any manner of Esteem.  
Now, Madam, being to draw mine own Picture to the Life, I had omitted the only graceful Feature, had I not therein represented the Honour I have ever had for you, and your Merits; which I have purposely chosen to say in the beginning of this Chapter, by reason that amongst many other Excellent Qualities you are Mistress of, that of the tender Love you have manifested to your Children, is worthily seated in one of the highest places. Whoever shall know at what age Monsieur d'Estissac your Husband left you a Widow, the great and honourable Matches have since been offered to you, as many as to any Lady of your Condition in France; the Constancy and steadiness wherein you have lived so many years, and wherewith you have gone through so many sharp Difficulties, the Charge and Conduct of their Affairs who have prosecuted you in every Corner of the Kingdom, and who yet are not weary of tormenting you; and the happy Direction you have given in all this, either by your single Prudence, or good Fortune, will easily conclude with me, that we have not so lively an Example as yours of maternal Affection in our times. I praise God, Madam, that it has been so well employed; for the great hopes that Monsieur d'Estissac the Son gives of himself, do advance sufficient assurance, that when he comes to age, you will reap from him all the Obedience and Gratitude of a very good man. But forasmuch as by reason of his tender years he has not been capable of taking notice of those Offices of extremest kindness he has in so great number received from you; 
The affection of Parents towards their Children, greater than that of Children towards them; and why?  I will, if these Papers shall one day happen to fall into his hands, when I shall neither have Mouth nor Speech left to deliver it to him, that he shall receive a true account of those things from me, which shall be more effectually manifested to him by their own Effects, by which he will understand, that there is not a Gentleman in France, who stands more indebted to a Mother's Care; and that he cannot for the future give a better, nor more certain Testimony of himself, of his own Worth and Virtue, than by acknowledging you for that Excellent Mother you are.  
If there be any Law truly Natural; that is to say, any Instinct that is seen universally and perpetually imprinted in both Beasts and Men, (which is not without Controversy) I can then say, that in my opinion, next to the Care every Animal has of his own Preservation, and to avoid that which may hurt him, the Affection that the Begetter bears to his Offspring, holds the second place in this File. And seeing that Nature seems to have recommended it to us, having regard to the Extension and Propagation of the successive Piece of this Machine: 'tis no wonder if on the contrary, that of Children towards their Parents is not so great. To which we may add this other Aristotelian Consideration, that he who confers a Benefit on any one, loves him better, than he is beloved by him again: and that every Artificer is fonder of his Work, than if that Work had Sense, it would be of him; by reason that it is dear to us to be, and to be consists in moving and action: Therefore every one has in some sort a being in his Work. Who confers a Benefit, exercises a fair and honest Action; who receives it, exercises the Vtile only. Now the Vtile is much less amiable than the Honest: the Honest is stable and permanent, supplying him who has done it with a continual Gratification. The Vtile loses itself, easily slides away, and the Memory of it is neither so fresh, nor so pleasing. Those things are dearest to us that have cost us most, and giving is more chargeable than receiving. Since it has pleased God to endue us with some Capacity of weighing and considering things, to the end we may not like Brutes be servilely subjected and enslaved to the Laws common to both; but that we should by judgement and a voluntary liberty apply ourselves to them: We ought indeed something to yield to the simple Authority of Nature, but not suffer ourselves to be tyrannically hurried away and transported by her; being that Reason alone should have the Conduct of our Inclinations. I for my part have a strange Disgust to those Propensions that are started in us, without the Mediation and Direction of the Judgement. As upon the Subject I am speaking of, I cannot entertain that Passion of Dandling and Caressing an Infant scarcely born, having as yet neither motion of Soul, nor shape of Body distinguishable, by which they can render themselves amiable; and have not willingly suffered them to be nursed near me: A true and regular Affection ought to spring and increase with the knowledge they give us of themselves, and then if they are worthy of it, the natural Propension walking hand in hand with Reason, to cherish them with a truly Paternal Love; and to judge and discern also if they be otherwise, still rendering ourselves to Reason, notwithstanding the Inclination of Nature. It goes through sometimes quite otherwise, and most commonly we find ourselves more taken with the running up and down the Play, and Puerile Simplicity of our Children, than we do afterwards with their most completed Actions; as if we had loved them for our sport, like Monkeys, and not as Men. And some there are, who are very liberal in buying them Balls to play withal, who are very close-handed for the least necessary Expense when they come to age. Nay, to that degree, that it looks as if the jealousy of seeing them appear in, and enjoy the World, when we are about to leave it, rendered us more niggardly and stingy towards them. It vexes us that they tread upon our Heels, as if to solicit us to go out; and if this be to be feared, since the order of things will have it so that they cannot, to speak the truth, be, nor live, but at the expense of our Being and Life, we should never meddle with getting Children. For my part I think it Cruelty and Injustice not to receive them into the share and society of our Goods, and not to make them Partakers in the Intelligence of our Domestic Affairs, when they are capable, and not to lessen and contract our own Expenses to make the more room for theirs, seeing we beget them to that effect. 'Tis unjust that an old Fellow, deaf, lame, and half-dead, should alone in a Corner of the Chimney, enjoy the Goods that were sufficient for the Maintenance and Advancement of many Children, and to suffer them in the mean time to lose their best Years, for want of means to put themselves into public service, and the knowledge of men. A man by this means drives them to desperate Courses, and to seek out by any means, how unjust or dishonourable soever, to provide for their own support. As I have in my time seen several young men of good Extraction, so addicted to stealing, that no Correction could cure them of it. I know one of a very good Family, to whom, at the request of a Brother of his, a very honest and brave Gentleman, I once spoke upon this account; who made answer, and confessed to me roundly, that he had been put upon this dirty Practice by the Severity and Avarice of his Father: but that he was now so accustomed to't, he could not leave it. At which time he was trapped stealing a Lady's Rings, 
Young men given to filching.  being come into her Chamber, as she was dressing with several others. He put me in mind of a story I had heard of another Gentleman, so perfect and accomplished in this gentile Trade in his Youth, that after he came to his Estate, and resolved to give it over, could not hold his hands nevertheless, if he passed by a Shop where he saw any thing he liked, from catching it up, though it put him to the shame of sending afterwards to pay for't. And I have myself seen several so habituated to this laudable quality, that even amongst their Comrades they could not forbear filching, though with intent to restore what they had taken. I am a Gascon, and yet there is no Vice I so little understand as that; I hate it something more by Disposition, than I condemn it in my Discourse: I do not so much as desire any thing of another man's. 
Gascon 's generally addicted to stealing.  This Province of ours is, in plain truth, a little more suspected, than the other parts of the Kingdom; and yet we have often seen in our times men of good familys of other Provinces in the hands of Justice, Convicted of several abominable Thefts: I fear this Debauch is in some sort to be attributed to the forementioned Vice of the Fathers; and if a man should tell me, as a Lord of very good Understanding once did, that he hoarded up Wealth, not to extract any other fruit and use from his Parsimony, but to make himself honoured, and sought to by his own Relations: and that Age having deprived him of all other Forces, it was the only remaining Remedy to maintain his Authority in his Family, and to keep him from being neglected and despised by all the World, (and in truth, not only old age, but all other imbecility, according to Aristotle, is the Promoter of Avarice.) This is something, but it is Physic for a Disease, that a man should prevent. A Father is very miserable, that has no other hold of his children's Affection, than the need they have of his Amstance, if that can be called Affection; he must render himself worthy to be respected by his Virtue and Wisdom, and beloved by his Bounty, and the sweetness of his Manners. Even the very Ashes of a rich Matter have their Value; and we are wont to have the Bones and Relics of worthy Men in regard and reverence. No old Age can be so ruinous and offensive in a man who has past his Life in Honour, but it must be Venerable, especially to his Children; the Soul of which he must have trained up to their Duty by Reason, not by Necessity, and the Need they have of him; nor by roughness and force. 

— & errat longè, mea quidem sententia, 
Terence. Adelph. Act. 1. S●e. 1.   
Qui imperium credat esse gravius aut stabilius  
Vi quod fit, quam illud quod amicitia adjungitur.   

And he does mainly vary from my sense,  
Who thinks the Empire gained by violence,  
More absolute and durable, than that,  
Which gentleness and friendship do create.   I condemn all Violence in the Education of a tender Soul, that is designed for Honour and Liberty. There is, I know not what, of Servile in Rigour and Restraint; and I am of opinion, that what is not to be done by Reason, Prudence and Address, is never to be effected by Force. I myself was brought up after that manner; and they tell me, that, in all my first Age, I never felt the Rod but twice, and then very easily. I have practised the same Method with my Children, who all of them died at Nurse; but Leonor my only Daughter is arrived to the age of six years, and upward, without other Correction for her Childish Faults, (her Mother's Indulgence easily concurring) than Words only, and those very gentle. In which kind of proceeding, though my end and expectation should be both frustrated, there are other Causes enough to lay the Fault on, without blaming my Discipline, which I know to be natural and just, and I should in this have yet been more Religious towards the Males, as born to less Subjection, and more free; and I should have made it my business to swell their Hearts with Ingenuity and Freedom. I have never observed other effects of Whipping, unless to render them more cowardly, or more wilful and obstinate. Do we desire to be beloved of our Children? Will we remove from them all occasion of wishing our Death? (though no occasion of so horrid a Wish can either be just, or excusable; Nullum scelus rationem habet) let us reasonably accommodate their Lives with that is in our power. In order to this, we should not marry so young, that our Age shall in a manner be confounded with theirs; for this inconvenience plunges us into many very great Difficulties: I say, the Gentry of the Nation, who are of a condition wherein they have little to do, and live upon their Revenues only: For elsewhere where the Life is dedicated to profit, the plurality and numbers of Children is an increase to the good husbandry, and they are as so many new Tools and Instruments wherewith to grow rich. I married at three and thirty years of Age, and concur in the opinion of thirty five, which is said to be that of Aristotle. 
The Age of Marriage.  Plato will have no body marry before thirty; but he has reason to laugh at those, who undertake the work of Marriage after five and fifty, and condemn their Offspring as unworthy of Aliment and Life. Thales gave to this the truest Limits, who young, and being importuned by his Mother to Marry, answered, That it was too soon, and being grown into years, and urged again, That it was too late. A man must deny opportunity to every importunate Action. 
The Use of Women enervates young Men▪  The ancient Gauls looked upon it as a very horrid thing, for a man to have had Society with a woman before twenty years of age; and strictly recommended to the men, who designed themselves for War, the keeping their Virginity till well grown in years, forasmuch as Courage is abated and diverted by the use of Women.  

Ma hor congiunto à giovinetta sposa,  

Tasso. Cant. 10.  Lieto homai, de figli era invilito  
Negli affetti di padre, & di marito.   

But now being married to a fair young wife,  
He's quite fallen off from his old course of life:  
His metle is grown rusty, and his care  
His Wife and Children do betwixt them share.   
Muleasses King of Tunis, he whom the Emperor Charles the Fifth restored to his Kingdom, reproached the Memory of his Father Mahomet with the Frequentation of Women, styling him Loose, Effeminate, and a Getter of Children. The Greek History observes of Jecus the Tarentine, of Chryso, Astiplus, Diopompus, and others, that to keep their Bodies in order for the Olympic Games, and such like Exercises, they denied themselves, during that preparation, all Commerce with Venus. In a certain Country of the Spanish Indies, men were not admitted to marry till after Forty years of Age, and yet the Girls were allowed to go to't at Ten. 'Tis not time for a Gentleman of Five and thirty years old to give place to his Son who is Twenty; he, being himself in a condition to serve both in the Expeditions of War, and in the Court of his Prince, has himself need of all his Equipage; and yet doubtless aught to allow his Son a share, but not so great a one, as wholly to disfurnish himself; and for such a one, the saying that Fathers have ordinarily in their mouths, That they will not put off their clothes, before they go to bed, is proper enough: But a Father overworn with Age and Infirmities, and deprived by his weakness and want of health of the common Society of men, wrongs himself and his, to rake together a great Mass of useless Treasure. He has lived long enough, if he be wise, to have a mind to strip himself to go to bed, not to his very Shirt, I confess, but to that, and a good warm Nightgown; the remaining Pomps of which he has no further use, he ought voluntarily to surrender to those to whom by the order of Nature they belong. 'Tis reason he should refer the use of those things to them, seeing that Nature has reduced him to such an Estate, that he cannot enjoy them himself: otherwise there is doubtless ill nature, and envy in the case. The greatest Act of the Emperor Charles the Fifth was, that, when in imitation of some of the Ancients of his own Quality, confessing it but reason to strip ourselves when our clothes encumber and grow too heavy for us, and to lie down when our Legs begin to fail us; he resigned his Dignity, Grandeur, and Power to his Son, when he found the vigour and steadiness in the Conduct of his Affairs to fail in himself, with the Glory he had therein acquired.  

Solve senescentem maturè sanus equum, 
Hor. lib. 1. Ep. 1.  ne  
Peccet ad extremùm ridendus, & ilia ducat.   

The old worn Courser in good time dismiss,  
Lest failing in the Lists, Spectators hiss.   
This fault of not perceiving betimes, and not being sensible of the feebleness and extreme alteration that Age naturally brings both upon the Body and Mind (which in my opinion is equal, if the Soul is no more than the half) has lost the Reputation of most of the Great men in the World. I have known in my time, and been intimately acquainted with some Persons of very great Quality, whom a man might easily discern so manifestly lapsed from their former sufficiency, I was sure they were once endued with, by the Reputation they had acquired in their former years; that I could heartily, for their own sakes, have wished them at home at their ease, discharged of their Public Military Employments, which were now grown too heavy for their Shoulders. I have formerly been very familiar in a Gentleman's House, a Widower, and very old, though healthy and cheerful enough: This Gentleman had several Daughters to marry, and a Son already of a ripe age, which brought upon him many Visits, and a great Expense; neither of which did very well please him, not only out of consideration of Frugality; but yet more, for having, by reason of his Age, entered into a course of Life far differing from ours. I told him one day a little boldly, as I use to do, that he would do better to give us room, and to leave his principal House, (for he had but that well situated and furnished) to his Son, and retire himself to an Estate he had hard by, where no body would trouble his Repose, seeing he could not otherwise avoid being importuned by us, the Condition of his Children considered. He took my advice afterwards, and found an advantage by so doing: I do not mean, that a man should so instate them, as not to reserve to himself a liberty to recant; I, who am now arrived to the age, wherein such things are fit to be done, would resign to them the enjoyment of my House and Goods, but with a power of Revocation, if they should give me cause to alter my mind: I would leave to them the Use, they being no longer proper for me, and, of the general Authority and Power over all, would reserve as much as I thought good to myself: Having always thought, that it must needs be a great satisfaction to an aged Father, himself to put his Children into the way of governing his Affairs, and to have power during his own life to control their Deportments, supplying them with Instruction and Advice from his own Experience, and himself to transfer the ancient Honour and Order of his House into that of those who are to succeed him, and by that means to be responsible to himself (by the hopes he may conceive) for their future conduct. And in order to this, I would not avoid their company, I would observe them near at hand, and partake, according to the condition of my age, of their Feasts and Jollities. If I did not live amongst them, (which I could not do, without being a disturbance to them, by reason of the morosity of my age, and the restlessness of my Infirmities, and without violating also the Rules and Orders of living, I should then have set down to myself) I would at least live near them in some remote part of my House, not the best in show, but the most commodious. Nor as I saw some years ago a Dean of St. Hila●re of Pei●iers, by his Melancholy given up to such a solitude, that at the time I came into his Chamber, it had been Two and twenty years that he had not stepped one foot out of it, and yet had all his Motions free, and eat, and was in perfect health, saving a little Rheum that fell upon his Lungs: He would hardly once in a week suffer any one to come in to see him; he always kept himself shut up in his Chamber alone, except that a Servant brought him once a day something to eat, and did then but just come in, and go out again. His Employment was to walk up and down, and read some Book, for he was a piece of a Scholar: but as to the rest, obstinately bend to die in this Retirement, as he presently after did. I would endeavour by a sweet and obliging Conversation, to create in my Children a lively and unfeigned friendship and good will, which in well-descended Natures is not hard to do; for if they be Brutes, of which this Age of ours produces thousands, we are then to hate and avoid them. I am angry at the Custom, very much in use, of forbidding Children to call their Father by the name of Father, and to enjoin them another, as more full of respect and reverence, as if Nature had not sufficiently provided for our Authority: We call Almighty God Father, and disdain to have our Children call us so; I have reformed this Error in my Family. And 'tis also folly and injustice to deprive Children, when grown up, of a familiarity with their Father, and to carry a scornful and austere Countenance toward them, thinking by that to keep them in awe and obedience; for it is a very idle force, that, in stead of producing the Effect designed, renders Father's distasteful; and, which is worse, ridiculous to their own Children. They have Youth and Vigour in possession, and consequently the breath and favour of the World, and therefore receive these fierce and tyrannical looks (mere Scarecrows) of a man without blood, either in his Heart or Veins, with mockery and contempt. Though I could make myself feared, I had yet much rather make myself beloved. There are so many sorts of defects in old Age, so much impuissancy, and it is so liable to contempt, that the best purchase a man can make, is the kindness and affection of his own Family; Command and Fear are no more his Weapons: Such a one I have known, who having been very insolent in his Youth, when he came to be old, though he might have lived at his full ease, and had his judgement as entire as ever, would yet torment himself, and others; strike, rant, swear, and curse; the most tempestuous Master in France: fretting himself with unnecessary suspicion and vigilancy; and all this rumble and clutter, but to make his Family cheat him the sooner, and the more; of his Barn, his Kitchen, Cellar, nay, and his very Purse too, others had the greatest use and share, whilst he keeps his Keys in his Bosom, much more carefully than his Eyes: Whilst he hugs himself with the Frugality of the pitiful pittance of a wretched and niggardly Table; every thing goes to wrack and ruin in every Corner of his House, in play, drink, all sorts of profusion; making sports in their Junkets with his vain Anger and fruitless Parsimony. Every one is a Centinel against him, and if by accident any wretched Fellow that serves him is of another humour, and will not join with the rest, he is presently rendered suspected to him, a Bait that old Age very easily bites at of its self. How oft has this Gentleman boasted to me, in how great awe he kept his Family, and how exact an Obedience and Reverence they paid him? How clearly did this man see into his own Affairs!  
Ter. Adel. ac. 4. Scen. 2.  Ille solus nescit omnia. 
I do not know any one that can muster more Parts both natural and acquired, proper to maintain such a dominion, than he; yet he is fallen from it like a Child. For this reason it is, that I have picked out Him amongst several others that I know of the same humour, for the greatest Example. It were matter sufficient for a Question in the Schools, Whether he is better thus, or otherwise. In his Presence all submit to, and bow before him, and give so much way to his vanity, that no body ever resists him; he has his belly full of Cringe, and all postures of Fear, Submission and Respect. Does he turn away a Servant? he packs up his bundle, and is gone; but 'tis no further, than just out of his sight: the Pace of old Age is so slow, and the Sense is so weak and troubled, that he will live and do his old Office in the same House a year together, without being perceived. And after a fit interval of time, Letters are pretended to come a great way off, from I know not where, very humble, suppliant, and full of promises of amendment; by virtue of which he is again received into favour. Does Monsieur make any Bargain, or send away any Dispatch that does not please? 'tis suppressed, and Causes now afterward forged to excuse the want of Execution in the one, or Answer in the other. No strange Letters being first brought to him, he never sees any but those that shall seem fit for his knowledge: If by accident they fall first into his own hand, being used to trust some body to read them to him, he reads extempore what he thinks fit, and very often makes such a one ask him pardon, who abuses and rails at him in his Letter. Finally he sees nothing, but by an Image prepared and designed beforehand, and the most satisfactory they can invent, not to rouse and awake his ill Humour and Choler. I have seen enough differing Forms of Oeconomy, long, constant, and of like effect. Women, especially the perverse and elder sort, are evermore addicted to cross their Husbands: They lay hold with both hands on all occasions to contradict and oppose them, and the first excuse serves for a plenary Justification. I have seen who has grossly purloined from her Husband, that, as she told her Confessor, she might distribute the more liberal Alms: Let who will trust to that Religious Dispensation. No management of Affairs seems to them of sufficient Dignity, if proceeding from the Husband's assent; they must usurp either by Insolence, or Cunning, and always injuriously, or else it has not the Grace of Authority they desire. When, as in the case I am speaking of, 'tis against a poor Old man, and for the Children, than they make use of this Title to serve their Passion with Glory; and as in a common Servitude, easily monopolise against his Government and Dominion. If they be Males grown up, and flourishing, they presently corrupt either by force, or favour, both Steward, Receivers, and all the Rout. Such as have neither Wife, nor Son, do not so easily fall into this misfortune; but withal more cruelly, and undeservingly. Cato the elder in his time, said, So many Servants, so many Enemies. Consider then, whether according to the vast difference betwixt the purity of the Age he lived in, and the corruption of this of ours, he does not seem to advertise us, that Wife, Son, and Servant, so many Enemies to us? 'Tis well for old Age, that it is always accompanied with Stupidity, Ignorance, and a facility of being deceived; for should we see how we are used, and would not acquiesce, what would become of us? especially in such an Age as this, where the very Judges who are to determine, are usually partial to the young, in any Cause that comes before them. 
The Author seems to hint, that the Judges were young Men themselves.  In case that the discovery of this Cheat escape me, I cannot at least fail to discern that I am very fit to be cheated; and can a man ever enough speak the value of a Friend, in comparison with these civil ties? The very Image of it, which I see so pure and uncorrupted in Beasts, how religiously do I respect it? If others deceive me, yet do I not at least deceive myself, in thinking I am able to defend me from them, or in cudgeling my Brains to make myself so? I protect myself from such Treasons in my own Bosom, not by an unquiet and tumultuary Curiosity, but rather by Mirth and Resolution. When I hear talk of any one's Condition, I never trouble myself to think of him, I presently turn my Eyes upon myself, to see in what condition I am; what ever concerns another, relates to me, The Accident that has befallen him, gives me Caution, rouzes me to turn my Defence that way. We every day and every hour say things of another, that we might more properly say of ourselves, could we but revert our Observation to our own Concerns, as well as extend it to others. And several Authors have in this manner prejudiced their own Cause, by running headlong upon those they attack, and darting those Shafts against their Enemies, that are more properly, and with greater advantage to be returned upon them. The last Marshal de Monlue, having lost his Son, who was slain at the Isle of Madera; in truth a very brave Gentleman, and of great expectation, did to me, amongst his other Regrets, very much insist upon what a Sorrow and Heart-breaking it was, that he had never made himself familiar and acquainted with him; and by that humour of Fatherly Gravity and Sowrness, to have lost the opportunity of having an insight into, and of well knowing his Son; as also of letting him know the extreme affection he had for him, and the worthy opinion he had of his Virtue. That poor Boy, said he, never saw in me other, than a stern and disdainful Countenance, and is gone in a belief, that I neither knew how to love nor esteem him according to his desert. For whom did I reserve the discovery of that singular Affection I had for him in my Soul? Was it not he himself, who ought to have had all the pleasure of it, and all the Obligation? I forced and racked myself to put on and maintain this vain Disguise, and have by that means deprived myself of the pleasure of his Conversation, and, I doubt in some measure, his Affection, which could not but be very cold towards me, having never other from me than Austerity; nor felt other than a tyrannical manner of proceeding. I find this Complaint to be rational and rightly apprehended; for, as I myself know by too cortain Experience, there is no so sweet Consolation in the loss of Friends, as the conscience of having had no reserve of secret for them; and to have had with them a perfect and entire Communication. Oh my Friend, am I the better for being sensible of this; or am I the worse? I am doubtless much the better. I am consolated and honoured in the sorrow for his death. Is it not a pious and a pleasing Office of my Life to be always upon my Friends Obsequies? Can there be any joy equal to this Privation? I open myself to my Family, as much as I can, and very willingly let them know, in what estate they are in my opinion and good will, as I do every body else. I make haste to bring out, and expose myself to them; for I will not have them mistaken in me in any thing. Amongst other particular Customs of our ancient Gauls, this, as Caesar reports, was one, 
The ancient Gauls n●ver permitted their Sons to present themselves before them, till they came to bear Arms.  That the Sons never presented themselves before their Fathers, nor durst never appear in their company in public, till they began to bear Arms; as if they would intimate by that, that it was also time for their Fathers to receive them into their familiarity and acquaintance. I have observed yet another sort of Indiscretion in Fathers of my time, That, not contented with having deprived their Children, during their own long lives, of the share they naturally aught to have had in their Fortunes, they afterwards leave to their Wives the same Authority over their Estates, and Liberty to dispose of them according to their own fancy: And have known a certain Lord one of the principal Officers of the Crown, who having in his prospect, by right of succession, above Fifty thousand Crowns yearly Revenue, died necessitous, and overwhelmed with debt, at above fifty years of age; his Mother in his extremest decrepitude, and necessity, being yet in possession of all his Goods, by the Will of his Father, who had, for his part, lived till near Fourscore years Old. This appears by no means reasonable to me: And therefore I think it of very little advantage to a man, whose Affairs are well enough, to seek a Wife that will charge his Estate with too great a Jointure: There being no sort of foreign Debt or Encumbrance, that brings greater and more frequent ruin to Estates and Families, than that. My Predecessors have ever been aware of that danger, and provided against it, and so have I: But these who dissuade us from rich Wives, for fear they should be less tractable and kind, are out in their Advice, to make a man lose a real Convenience for so frivolous a Conjecture. It costs an unreasonable Woman no more to pass over one Reason, than another. They love but where they have the most wrong. Injustice allures them, as the Honour of their virtuous Actions does the good; and the more Riches they bring with them, they are by so much the more gentle, and sweet Natured; as women who are fair, are more inclined, and proud to be chaste. 'Tis reasonable to leave the administration of Affairs to the Mothers, during the minority of the Children; but the Father has brought them up very ill, if he cannot hope, that when they come to Maturity, they will have more Wisdom and Dexterity in the management of Affairs, than his Wife, considering the ordinary Weakness of the Sex. It were notwithstanding, to say the truth, more against Nature, to make the Mothers depend upon the Discretion of their Children: They ought to be plentifully provided for, to maintain themselves according to their Quality and Age, by reason that Necessity is much more indecent and insupportable to them, than to men; and therefore the Son is rather to be cut short, than the Mother. In general, the most judicious Distribution of our Goods, when we come to die, is, in my Opinion, to let them be distributed according to the Custom of the Country. The Laws have considered it better than we know how to do, and 'tis better to let them fail in their Election, than rashly to run the hazard of miscarrying in ours. Neither are they properly ours, since, by a Civil Prescription, and without us, they are all judged to certain Successors. And although we have some liberty beyond that, yet I think we ought not, without great and manifest cause, to take away that from one which his Fortune has allotted him, and to which the public Equity gives him Title; and that it is against reason to abuse this liberty, in making it to serve our own frivolous and private Fancies. My Destiny has been kind to me, in not preventing me with Occasions to tempt and divert my Affection from the common and legitimate Institution. I see well enough, with whom 'tis time lost, to employ a long Diligence of Good Offices: A word ill taken obliterates ten years' merit; and he is happy, who is in place to oil their Good Will at this last Passage. The last Action carries it: Not the best, and most frequent Offices, but the most recent and present do the Work. These are people that play with their Wills, as with Apples and Rods, to gratify or chastise every Action of these, that pretend to an Interest in their Care. 'Tis a thing of too great weight and consequence, to be so tumbled and tossed, and altered every moment: And wherein the Wise men of the World determine once for all, having therein above all things, a regard to reason, and the public observance. We also lay these Masculine Substitutions too much to heart, proposing a ridiculous Eternity to our Names. And are moreover too superstitious in the vain Conjectures of the future, which we derive from the little Observations we make of the Words and Actions of Children. Peradventure they might have done me an injustice, in dispossessing me of my Right, for having been the most dull and heavy, the most slow and unwilling at my Book, not of all my Brothers only, but of all the Boys in the whole Province: Whether about learning my Lesson, or any other bodily Exercise. 'Tis a folly to make an extraordinary Election upon the Credit of these Divinations, wherein we are so often deceived. If the Rule of Primogeniture were to be violated, and the Destinies corrected in the Choice they have made of our Heirs, one might more plausibly do it upon the account of some enormous personal Deformity; a constant and incorrigible Vice, and in the opinion of us French, who are great admirers of Beauty of important prejudice. The pleasant Dialogue betwixt Plato's Legislator, and his Citizens, will be an Ornament to this place. What, said they, feeling themselves about to die, may we not dispose of our own to whom we please? Good God, what cruelty! That it shall not be lawful for us, according as we have been served and attended in our Sickness, in our Old Age, and other Affairs, to give more or less to those whom we have found most diligent about us, at our own Fancy and Discretion! To which the Legislator answers thus; My Friends, who are now without question, very soon to die, it is hard for you in the Condition you are, either to know yourselves; or what is yours, according to the Delphic Inscription. ay, who make the Laws, am of opinion, that you neither are yourselves your own, neither is that yours of which you are possessed. Both your Goods, and you belong to your Families, as well those past, as those to come; but yet both your Family and Goods do much more appertain to the public. Wherefore lest any Flatterer in your Age, or in your Sickness, or any Passion of your own, should unseasonably prevail with you to make an unjust Will, I shall take care to prevent that inconvenience. But having respect both to the universal Interest of the City, and that of your particular Family, I shall establish Laws, and make it by lively Reasons appear, that a particular Convenience ought to give place to the common Benefit. Go then cheerfully where Humane Necessity calls you. It belongs to me, who have no more respect to one thing than another; and who, as much as in me lies, am careful of the public Concern, to take care of what you leave behind you.  
To return to my Subject; It appears to me that such women are very rarely born, to whom the Prerogative over men, in others excepted, is in any sort due; unless it be for the Punishment of such, as in some lustful Humour, have voluntarily submitted themselves to them: but that does nothing concern the Old ones, of which we are now speaking. This Consideration it is, which has made us so willingly to forge, and give force to a Law, which was never yet see● by any one; 
The Sa●ick Law never seen by any.  and by which, women are excluded the Succession to this Crown: and there is hardly a Government in the World where it is not pleaded, as 'tis here, by mere reason of the thing that gives it Authority, though Fortune has given it more Credit in some places, than in others. 'Tis dangerous to leave the disposal of our Succession to their Judgement, according to the Choice they shall make of Children, which is often fantastic and unjust; for the irregular Appetite and depreaved Taste they have, during the time of their being with Child, they have at all other times in the mind. We commonly see them fond of the most weak, ricketty, and deformed Children; or of those, if they have such, as are hanging at their Breasts. For not having sufficient force of reason to choose and embrace that which is most worthy, they the more willingly suffer themselves to be carried away, where the impressions of Nature are most alone: Like Animals that know their Young no longer than they give them suck. As to what remains, it is easy by experience to be discerned, that this Natural Affection to which we give so great Authority, has but a very weak and shallow Root. For a very little profit we every day ravish their own Children out of the Mother's Arms, and make them take ours in their room: We make them abandon their own to some pitiful Nurse, to which we disdain to commit ours, or to some She Goat; forbidding them, not only to give them suck, what danger soever they run thereby, but moreover, to take any manner of care of them, that they may wholly be taken up with the care of, and attendance upon ours. And we see in most of them an adulterate Affection, begot by Custom, toward the faster Children, more vehement than the Natural; and a greater Solicitude for the Preservation of those they have taken charge of, than their own. And that which I was saying of Goats, was upon this account; that it is ordinary, all about where I live, to see the Country-women, when they want▪ Suck of their own, to call Goats to their assistance. And I have, at this hour, two Footmen that never sucked woman's Milk more than eight days after they were born. 
Goats trained to give suck to Children.  These Goats are immediately taught to come to suckle the little Children, will know their Voices when they cry, and come running to them; when if any other than that they are acquanted with be presented to them, they refuse to let it suck, and the Child, to another Goat, will do the same. I saw one the other day, from whom they had taken away the Goat that used to nourish it, by reason the Father had only borrowed it of a Neighbour; that would not touch any other they could bring, and doubtless died of hunger. Beasts do as easily alter and corrupt their Natural Affection as we: I believe that in what Herodotus relates of a certain place of Lybia; there are very many mistake; he says, that the women are there in common; but that the Child so soon as it can go, finds him out in the Crowd for his Father, to whom he is first led by his Natural Inclination. Now, to consider this simple reason for loving our Children, for having begot them, therefore calling them our Second selves: It appears, methinks, that there is another kind of Production proceeding from us, that should no less recommend them to our Love: For that which we engender by the Soul, the issue of our Understandings, Courage and Abilities, spring from nobler Parts than those of the Body, and that are much more our own. We are both Father and Mother in this Generation; these cost us a great deal more, and brings us more Honour, if they have any thing of good in them. For the Value of our other Children is much more theirs, than ours; the share we have in them is very little; but of these, all the Beauty, all the Grace and Value is ours; as also they more lively represent and resemble us, than the rest. Plato adds, that these are immortal Children, 
Books immortal Children.  that immortalize and deify their Fathers, as Lycurgus, Solon and Minos. Now Histories being full of Examples of the common Affection of Fathers to their Children, it seems not altogether improper, to introduce some few, also of this other kind. Heliodorus that good Bishop of Tricea, 
His Romance of Theagines and Cariclea.  rather chose to lose the Dignity, Profit and Devotion of so Venerable a Prelacy, than to lose his Daughter; a Daughter that continues to this day very Graceful and Comely; but notwithstanding, peradventure a little too curiously and wantonly tricked, and too amorous for an Ecclesiastical and Sacerdotal Daughter. There has been one Labienus at Rome, a Man of great Valour and Authority; and, amongst other good Qualities, excellent in all sorts of Literature; who was, as I take it, the Son of that great Labienus, the chiefest of Caesar's Captains in the Wars of Gaul; and who, afterwards siding with Pompey the Great, so valiantly maintained his Cause, till he was by Caesar defeated in Spain. This Labienus of whom I am now speaking, had several Enemies, who were emulous of his Virtue; and 'tis likely the Courtiers and Minions of the Emperor of his time, who were very angry at, and displeased with his Freedom, and Paternal Humours, which he yet retained against Tyranny, with which it is to be supposed, he had tincted his Books and Writings. His Adversaries before the Magistracy of Rome, prosecuted several Pieces he had published, and prevailed so far against him, as to have them condemned to the Fire. It was in him that this new Example of Punishment was begun, which was afterwards continued against several others at Rome, to punish even Writing, and Studies with Death. There would not be means and matter enough of Cruelty, did we not mix with them things, that Nature has exempted from all Sense and Suffering; as Reputation, and the Products of Wit; and communicate Corporal Punishments to the Learning and Monuments of the Muses. Now Labienus could not suffer this loss, nor survive these his so dear Issue; and therefore caused himself to be conveyed and shut up alive in the Monument of his Ancestors, where he made shift to kill, and bury himself at once. 'Tis hard to show a more violent Paternal Affection, than this. Cassius Severus a Man of great Eloquence, and his very intimate Friend, seeing his Books burnt, cried out, That by the same Sentence they should as well condemn him to the Fire too, being that he carried in his Memory all that they contained. The like Accident befell Geruntius Cordus, 
Cordus 's Writings condemned to the Fire.  who being accused for having in his Books commended Brutus and Cassius; that dirty, servile, and degenerated Senate, and worthy a worse Master than Tiberius, condemned his Writings to the Flame. He was willing to bear them Company, and killed himself with Fasting. The good Lucan being condemned by that Beast Nero, at the last gasp of his Life, when the greater part of his Blood was already gone by the Veins of his Arms, which he had caused his Physician to open to make him die, and that the cold had seized of all his Extremities, and began to approach his Vital Parts; the last thing he had in his Memory, was some of the Verses of his Battle of Pharsalia, which he repeated, and and died with them in his Mouth. What was this but taking a Tender and Paternal Leave of his Children, in imitation of the Valedictions and Embraces wherewith we part with ours, when we come to die; and an effect of that Natural Inclination, that suggests to our remembrance in this Extremity, those things which were dearest to us during the time of our Life? Can we believe that Epicurus, who, as he says himself, dying of intolerable Pains of the Colic, had all his Consolation in the Beauty of the Doctrine he left behind him, could have received the same satisfaction from many Children, though never so well educated, had he had them, as he did from the issue of so many rich and admirable Writings? Or that, had it been in his choice to have left behind him a deformed and untoward Child, or a foolish and ridiculous Book, he, or any other Man of his Understanding would not rather have chose to have run the first Misfortune than the other? It had been (for example) peradventure, an Impiety in St. Austin, if on the one hand, it had been proposed to him to bury his Writings, from which Religion has received so great Advantage; or on the other, to bury his Children, had he had them, had he not rather chose to bury his Children had he had them, had he not rather chose to bury his Children. And I know not whether I had not much rather have begot a very Beautiful one, through my Society with the Muses, than by lying with my Wife. To this, such as it is, what I give it, I give absolutely and irrevocably, as Men do to their bodily Children. That little I have done for it, is no more at my own dispose. It may know many things that are gone from me, and from me keep that which I have not retained: And that, as a Stranger, I might borrow thence, should I stand in need. If I am wiser than my Book, it is richer than I. There are few Men addicted to Poetry, who would not be much Prouder to be Father to the Aeneid, than to the handsomest and best fashioned Youth of Rome, and that would not much better bear the loss of the one than the other. For according to Aristotle, the Poet, of all sorts of Artificers, is the fondest of his Work. 'Tis hard to believe that Epaminondas, who boasted, that in lieu of all Posterity, he left two Daughters behind him, which would one day do their Father Honour (meaning the two Victories he obtained over the Lacedæmonians) would willingly have consented to exchange those, for the most Beautiful Creature of all Greece: Or that Alexander, or Caesar ever wished to be deprived of the Grandeur of their Glorious Exploits in War, for the conveniency of Children and Heirs, how perfect and accomplished soever. Nay, I make a great Question, whether Phidias, or any other excellent Statuary, would be so solicitous of the Preservation and Continuance of his Natural Children, as he would be of a rare Statue, which with long labour and study, he had perfected according to Art. And to those furious and irregular Passions that have sometimes flamed in Fathers towards their own Daughters, and in Mothers towards their own Sons; the like is also found in this other sort of Parentry: Witness what is related of Pygmalion, who having made the Statue of a Woman of singular Beauty, fell so passionately in love with this Work of his, that the Gods, in favour of his Passion, must inspire it with Life.  

Tentatum mollescit ebur, positóque rigore, 
Ovid. Meta. lib. 10.   
Subsidit digitis.   

The tempted Ivory Pliant grows, and now,  
Under his wanton Touch, does yield and bow.    

CHAP. IX. Of the Arms of the Parthians.  
'TIs an ill custom, and a little unmanly, the Gentlemen of our time have got, not to put on their Arms, but just upon the point of the most extreme necessity; and to lay them by again, so soon as ever there is any show of the Danger being a little over; from whence many Disorders arise: For every one bustling and running to his Arms just when he should go to Charge, has his Cuirass to buckle on, when his Companions are already put to rout. Our Ancestors were wont to give their Head-piece, Lance and Gauntlets to carry, but never put off the other Pieces so long as there was any work to be done. Our Troops are now cumbered and rendered unsightly, with the clutter of Baggage and Servants, that cannot be from their Masters, 
Li. lib. 5.  by reason they carry their Arms. Titus Livius speaking of our Nation, Intolerantissima Laboris Corpora vix Arma Humeris gerebant. Their Bodies were so impatient of Labour, that they could scarce endure to wear their Arms. Many Nations do yet, and did anciently, go to War without Defensive Arms; or such, at least, as were of very little proof. 


Aeneid lib. 6.  Tegmina queis Capitum raptus de Subere Cortex.   

For Helmets they their Temples only bind  
With a light Scull, made of the Cork-tree Rind.   Alexander, the most adventurous Captain that ever was, very seldom wore Arms, and such amongst us as slight them, do not by that much harm to the main Concern; for if we see some killed for want of them, there are few less whom the lumber of Arms helps to destroy, either by being overburdened, crushed and cramped with their weight by a rude Shock, or otherwise. For, in plain truth, to observe the weight and thickness of those we have now in use, it seems, as if we only pretend to defend ourselves, and that we are rather loaded, than secured by them. We have enough to do to support their weight, being so manacled, and immured, as if we were only to contend with our own Arms; and as if we had not the same Obligation to defend them, that they have to defend us. Tacitus gives a pleasant Description of the Men at Arms of our ancient Gauls; so armed, as only to be able to move, without power to offend, or possibility to be offended, or to rise again when once beaten down. Lucullus seeing certain Soldiers of the Medes, that made the Front of Tigranes his Army, heavily armed, and very uneasy, as if in Prisons of Iron, from thence conceived hopes, with great ease to defeat them; and by them began his Charge, and Victory. And now that our Musqueteers are come into Credit, I believe some Invention will be found out to immure us for our Safety, and to draw us to the War in Sconces, such as those the Ancients loaded their Elephants withal. This Humour is far differing from that of the younger Scipio, who sharply reprehended his Soldiers, for having planted caltrop's under Water, in a Graff, by which those of the Town he held besieged might sally out upon him; saying, That those who assaulted should think of attacking, and not to fear; suspecting, with good reason, that this stop they had put to the Enemies, would make them less vigilant upon their Duty. He said also to a young Man, showing him a fine Buckler he had, that he was very proud of, It is a very fine Buckler indeed, but a Roman Soldier ought to repose greater Confidence in his Right Hand, than his Left.  
Now 'tis nothing but the not being used to wear them, that makes the weight of our Arms so intolerable.  

L'husbergo in dolle haveano, & belmo in testa,  

Aristo. Cant. 12.  Due di quelli guerrier di quali je canto.  
Ne notte o di doppo ch'entraro in questa  
Stanza, gl'haveano mai mesi da canto,  
Che facile a portar comme la vesta  
Era lor, perch in uso l'avean tanto.   

Two of these Hero's, that I name, had on  
Each his bright Helm, and strong Habergeon,  
And Night nor Day, not one poor Minutes space,  
Once laid them by, whilst here they were in place.  
Those heavy Arms, by a long practice, were  
So very easy grown, and light to bear.   

Arms of the Roman Infantry, and their Militiary Discipline.  The Emperor Caracalla was wont continually to march on foot, completely armed, at the Head of his Army. The Roman Infantry always carried not only a Morion, a Sword, and a Shield; for as to Arms, says Cicero, they were so accustomed to have them always on, that they were no more trouble to them, than their own Limbs: Arma enim, membra militis esse dicunt; 
Cicero: Thus: lib. 2.  but moreover, fifteen days Provision, together with a certain number of Piles, or Stakes, wherewith to fortify their Camp, to sixty pounds' weight. And Marius his Soldiers, loaden at the same rate, were inur'd to march in Battalia five Leagues in five hours; and sometimes, upon any urgent occasion, six. Their Military Discipline was much ruder than ours, and accordingly produced much greater effects. The younger Scipio, reforming his Army in Spain, ordered his Soldiers to eat standing, and nothing that was dressed. The Jeer that was given a Lacedaemonian Soldier, is marvellously pat upon this account, who, in an Expedition of War, was reproached to have been seen under the Roof of a House: They were so inur'd to Hardship, that, let the Wether be what it would, it was a shame to be seen under any other Cover than the Roof of Heaven. We should not march our People very far at that rate. As to what remains, Marcellinus, a Man bred up in the Roman Wars, does curiously observe the manner of the Parthians arming themselves; and the rather, for being so different from that of the Romans. They had, says he, Arms so artificially woven, 
Arms of the Parthians.  as to have the Scollops fall over one another like so many little Feathers; which did nothing hinder the Motion of the Body, and yet were of such Resistance, that our Darts hitting upon them, would rebound: (Which were the Coats of Male our Forefathers were so constantly wont to use.) And in another place; They had (says he) strong and able Horses, covered with thick tanned Hides of Leather, and were themselves armed Cap a Pie with great Plates of Iron, so artificially ordered, that in all parts of the Limbs, which required bending, they assisted Motion. One would have said, that they had been Men of Iron; having Arms for the Head so neatly fitted, and so naturally representing the form of a Face, that they were no where vulnerable, save at two little round Holes, that gave them a little Light; and certain small Chinks about their Mouth, and Nostrils, through which they did, with great difficulty, breath. 

Flexilis inductis animatur lamina membris,  

Claud. in Ruff. lib. 2.  Horribilis visu, credas simulacra moveri  
Ferrea, cognatoque viros spirare metallo.  
Par vestitus equis, ferrata fronte minantur,  
Ferratosque movent securi vulneris armos.   

Stiff Plates of Steel over the Body laid,  
By Armourers Skill, so flexible were made,  
That, dreadful to be seen, you would think these  
Not living Men, but moving Images:  
The Horse, like-armed, Spikeswore in Fronts above  
And fearless, on their Iron Shoulders move.   A Description very near resembling the Equipage of the Men at Arms in France, with their Barded Horses. Plutarch says, that Demetrius caused two complete Suits of Arms to be made for himself, and for Alcinus, a Captain of the greatest Note and Authority about him, of six score Pounds weight each, whereas the ordinary Suits weighed but half so much.   

CHAP. X. Of Books.  
I Make no doubt, but that I oft happen to speak of things that are much better, and more truly handled by those who are Masters of the Trade. This here is purely an Essay of my Natural Parts, and not of those acquired: and whoever shall take me tripping in my Ignorance, will not in any sort displease me; for I should be very unwilling to become responsible to another for my Writings, who am not so to myself, nor satisfied with them. Whoever goes in quest of Knowledge, let him fish for it where it is to be found; there is nothing I so little profess. These are Fancies of my own, by which I do not pretend to discover things, but to lay open myself: They may, peradventure, one day be known to me, or have formerly been, according as my Fortune has been able to bring me in place where they have been explained; but I have utterly forgot them: and if I am a Man of some Reading, I am a Man of no Retension: So that I can promise no Certainty, if not to make known to what certain Mark the Knowledge I now have does rise. Therefore let no Body insist upon the Matter I write, but my Method in writing. Let them observe in what I borrow, if I have known how to choose what is proper to raise, or relieve the Invention, which is always my own. For I make others say for me, what, either for want of Language, or want of Sense, I cannot myself well express. I do not number my Borrow, I weigh them. And had I designed to raise their Estimate by their Number, I had made them twice as many. They are all, or within a very few, so famed and ancient Authors, that they seem, methinks, themselves sufficiently to tell who they are, without giving me the trouble. In Reasons, Comparisons and Arguments, if I transplant any into my own Soil, and confound them amongst my own, I purposely conceal the Author, to awe the Temerity of those precipitous Censures, that fall upon all sorts of Writings; particularly, the late ones, of Men yet living, and in the Vulgar Tongue, which put every one into a Capacity of Censuring, and which seem to convince the Authors themselves of Vulgar Conception and Design. I will have them wound Plutarch through my Sides, and rail against Seneca when they think they rail at me. I must shelter my own Weakness under these great Reputations; I shall love any one that can plume me, that is, by Clearness of Understanding and Judgement, and by the sole Distinction of the Force and Beauty of Discourse. For I, who, for want of Memory, am at every turn at a loss to pick them out of their National Livery, am yet wise enough to know, by the Measure of my own Abilities, that my Soil is incapable of producing any of those rich Flowers, that I there find set, and growing; and that all the Fruits of my own Growth are not worth any one of them. For this, indeed, I hold myself very responsible, though the Confession makes against me; if there be any Vanity and Vice in my Writings, which I do not of myself perceive, nor can discern, when pointed out to me by another; for many Faults escape the Eye, but the Infirmity of Judgement consists in not being able to discern them, when, by another, laid open to us. Knowledge and Truth may be in us without Judgement, and Judgement also without them; but the Confession of Ignorance is one of the fairest and surest Testimonies of Judgement that I know: I have no other Officer to put my Writings in Rank and File, but only Fortune. As things come into my head, I heap them one upon another, which sometimes advance in whole Bodies, sometimes in single Files: I am content that every one should see my natural and ordinary Pace, as ill as it is. I suffer myself to jog on, at my own rate and ease. Neither are these Subjects, which a Man is not permitted to be ignorant in, or casually, and at a venture, to discourse of. I could wish to have a more perfect Knowledge of things, but I will not buy it so dear as it will cost. My design is to pass over easily, and not laboriously, the Remainder of my Life. There is nothing that I will cudgel my Brains about; no, not Knowledge, of what price soever. I seek, in the reading of Books, only to please myself, by an irreproachable Divertion: Or if I study, 'tis for no other Science, than what treats of the Knowledge of myself, and instructs me how to die, and live well. 


Prob. lib. 4. Eleg. 1.  Has meus ad metas sudet oportet equus.   

— I to this only Course  
Train up, and in it only breath my Horse.   I do not bite my Nails about the Difficulties I meet with in my Reading; after a Charge, or two, I give them over. Should I insist upon them, I should both lose myself, and time; for I have an impatient Understanding, that must be satisfied at first: What I do not discern at first, is, by Persistency, rendered more obscure. I do nothing without Gaiety; Continuation, and a too obstinate Endeavour, darkens, stupifies and tires my Judgement. My Sight is confounded and dissipated with poring; I must withdraw it, and refer my Discovery to new Attempts: Just, as to judge rightly of the Lustre Scarlet, we are taught to pass it lightly with the Eye, in running it over at several sudden and reiterated Views and Glances. If one Book do not please me, I take another, and never meddle with any, but at such times as I am weary of doing nothing. I care not much for new ones, because the old seem fuller, and of stronger Reason; neither do I much tamper with Greek Authors, my Knowledge in that Language being too little to read them with any delight. Amongst those that are simply pleasant, of the Moderns, Boccace his Decameron, Rabelais, and the Bassa of Johannes Secundus (if those may be ranged under that Title) are worth Reading. As to Amadis de Gaul, and such kind of stuff, they had not the Credit to take me, so much as in my Childish Years. And I will moreover say (whether boldly, or rashly) that this old, heavy Soul of mine is now no longer delighted with Ariosto; no, nor with Ovid; and that his Facility and Invention, with which I was formerly so ravished, are now of no more Relish, and I can hardly have the patience to read him. I speak my Opinion freely of all things, even of those that, perhaps, exceed my Capacity, and that I do not conceive to be, in any wise, under my Jurisdiction. And accordingly, the Judgement I deliver, is to show the Measure of my own Sight, and not of the things I make so bold to censure: When I find myself disgusted with Plato's Axiochus, as with a Work (with due Respect to such an Author be it spoken) without force, my Judgement does not believe itself: It is not so arrogant as to oppose the Authority of so many other famous Judgements of Antiquity, which it considers as its Regent's and Master's, and with whom it is rather content to err. In such a Case, it condemns itself, either for stopping at the outward Bark, not being able to penetrate to the Heart, or for considering it by some false Light, and is content with securing itself from Trouble and Error only; and, as to its own Weakness, does frankly acknowledge and confess it. It thinks it gives a just Interpretation, according to the Appearances, by its Conceptions presented to it; but they are weak and imperfect. Most of the Fables of Aesop have in them several Senses and Meanings, of which, the Mythologists chose some one, that quadrates well to the Fable; but, for the most part, 'tis but the first Face that presents itself, and is Superficial only: There yet remain others more lively, essential and profound, into which they have not been able to penetrate; and just so do I  
But, to pursue the business of this Essay, I have always thought, that in Poesy, Virgil, Lucretius, Catullus and Horace do many degrees excel the rest; and signally, Virgil in his Georgics, which I look upon for the most accomplished piece of Poetry; and, in comparison of which, a Man may easily discern, that there are some places in his Aeneids, 
Censure of Virgil▪  to which the Author would have given a little more of the File, had he had leisure: and the fith Book of his Aeneids seems to me the most perfect. I also love Lucan, 
And Lucan.  and willingly read him; not so much for his Style, as for his own Worth, and the Truth and Solidity of his Opinions and Judgements. 
Of Terence.  As for Terence, I find the Queintness and Eloquencies of the Latin Tongue so admirable lively to represent our Manners, and the Movements of the Soul, that our Actions throw me, at every turn, upon him; and cannot read him so oft, that I do not still discover some new Grace and Beauty. Such as lived near Virgil's time, were scandalised, that some should compare him with Lucretius. 
Of Lucretius.  I am, I confess, of Opinion, that the Comparison is, in truth, very unequal; a Belief that, nevertheless, I have much ado to assure myself in, when I meet with some excellent Passages in Lucretius. But if they were so angry at this Comparison, what would they have said of the Brutish and Barbarous Stupidity of those, who, at this Hour, compare him with Ariosto? Or would not Ariosto himself say? O Seclum insipiens, & infacetum! 
Catullus Epig. 40.  I think the Ancients had more reason to be angry with those who compared Plautus with Terence, than Lucretius with Virgil. It makes much for the Estimation and Preference of Terence, that the Father of the Roman Eloquence has him so often in his Mouth; and the Sentence, that the best Judge of Roman Poets has passed upon the other. I have often observed, that those of our times, who take upon them to write Comedies (in imitation of the Italians, who are happy enough in that way of Writing) take in three or four Arguments of those of Plautus, or Terence, to make one of theirs, 
Of Terence.  and crowd five or six of Boccace his Novels, into one single Comedy. And that which makes them so load themselves with Matter, is the Diffidence they have of being able to support themselves with their own Strength. They must find out something to lean to; and having not of their own wherewith to entertain the Audience, bring in the Story, to supply the defect of Language. It is quite otherwise with my Author; the Elegancy and Perfection of his way of Speaking, makes us lose the Appetite of his Plot. His fine Expression, Elegancy and Queintness is every where Taking: He is so pleasant throughout. 

Liquidus, puroque simillimus amni.   

Liquid, and like a Crystal running Stream.   And does so possess the Soul with his Graces, that we forget those of his Fable. This very Consideration carries me further: I observe, that the best and most ancient Poets have avoided the Affectation, and hunting after, not only of fantastic Spanish, and Petrarchick Elevations, but even the softest, and most gentle Touches, which are the only Ornaments of succeeding Poesy. And yet there is no good Judgement that will condemn this in the Ancients, and that does not incomparably more admire the equal Politeness, and that perpetual Sweetness, and flourishing Beauty, that appears in Catullus his Epigrams, 
Comparison betwixt Catullus and Martial. Mart. prae lib. 8.  than all the Stings with which Martial arms the Tails of his. This is by the same Reason that I gave before, and as Martial says of himself; Minus illi ingenio laborandum fuit, in cujus locum materia successerat. These first, without being moved, or making themselves angry, make themselves sufficiently felt; they have matter enough of Laughter throughout, they need not tickle themselves: The others have need of Foreign Assistance; as they have the less Wit, they must have the more Body; they mount on Horseback, because they are not able to stand on their own Legs. As in our Balls, those mean Fellows that teach to dance, not being able to represent the Presence and Decency of our Nobleness, are fain to supply it with dangerous Leaps, and other strange Motions, and fantastic Tricks. And the Ladies are less put to it in Dances, where there are several Coupees, Changes, and quick Motions of Body, than in some other of a more solemn kind, where they are only to move a natural Pace, and to represent their ordinary Grace and Presence. And, as I have also seen good Tumblers, when in their own Every-day-Cloaths, and with the same Face they always wear, give us all the pleasure of their Art, when their Apprentices, not yet arrived to such a pitch of Perfection, are fain to meal their Faces, put themselves into ridiculous Disguises, and make a hundred Mimic Faces, to prepare us for Laughter. This Conception of mine is no where more demonstrable, than in comparing the Aeneid with Orlando Furioso; of which, we see the first, by Dint of Wing, flying in a brave and lofty Place, and always following his Point; the latter, fluttering and hopping from Tale to Tale, as from Branch to Branch, not daring to trust his Wings but in very short Flights, and perching at every turn, lest his Breath and Force should fail. Excursusque breves tentat. 
Virg. Georg. 4.  These then, as to this sort of Subjects, are the Authors that best please me. As to what concerns my other Reading that mixes a little more Profit with the Pleasure, and from whence I learn how to marshal my Opinions and Qualities; the Books that serve me to this purpose, are Plutarch (since translated into French) and Seneca: 
The Characters of Plutarch and Seneca.  Both of which have this great convenience suited to my Humour, that the Knowledge I there seek, is discoursed in loose pieces, that do not engage me in any great trouble of reading long, of which I am impatient. Such are the Opusculums of the first, and the Epistles of the latter, which are also the best, and most profiting of all their Writings. 'Tis no great attempt to take one of them in hand, and I give over at pleasure; for they have no sequel or dependence upon one another. These Authors, for the most part, concur in useful and true Opinions: And there is this Parallel betwixt them, That Fortune brought them into the World about the same Age: They were both Tutors to two Roman Emperors: Both sought out from foreign Countries: Both Rich, and both Great Men. Their Instruction is the Cream of Philosophy, and delivered after a plain and pertinent manner. Plutarch is more uniform and constant; Seneca more various and waving. The last toiled, set himself, and bend his whole Force to fortify Virtue against Frailty, Fear and Vicious Appetites: The other seems more to slight their Power, and to disdain to alter his Pace, and to stand upon his Guard. Plutarch's Opinions are Platonic, sweet, and accommodated to Civil Society: Those of the other are Stoical and Epicurean, more remote from the common Usance; but, in my Opinion, more especially proper, and more firm. Seneca seems to lean a little to the Tyranny of the Emperors of his time, and only seems; for I take it for granted, that he speak against his Judgement, when he condemns the Generous Action of those who assassinated Caesar. Plutarch is frank throughout. Seneca abounds with brisk Touches and Sallies: Plutarch with things that heats and moves you more; this contents and pays you better. This guides us, the other bushes us on. As to Cicero, those of his Works that are most useful to my Design, are they that treat of Philosophy, especially Moral: But boldly to confess the truth, his way of Writing, and that of all other Longwinded Authors, appears to me very tedious: For his Prefaces, Definitions, Divisions and Etimologies take up the greatest part of his Work: 
Censure of Cicero.  Whatever there is of Life and Marrow, is smothered and lost in the Preparation. When I have spent an hour in reading him (which is a great deal for me) and recollect what I have thence extracted of Juice and Substance; for the most part I find nothing but Wind; for he is not yet come to the Arguments that serve to his purpose, and the Reasons that should properly help to lose the Knot I would untie. For me, who only desire to become more Wise, not more Learned or Eloquent, these Logical or Aristotelian Dispositions of Parts are of no use. I would have a Man begin with the main Proposition, and that wherein the force of the Argument lies: I know well enough what Death and Pleasure are, let no Man give himself the trouble to anatomize them to me; I look for good and solid Reasons at the first dash to instruct me how to stand the Shock, and resist them; to which purpose, neither Grammatical Subtleties, nor the quaint Contexture of Words and Argumentations are of any use at all: I am for Discourses that gives the first Charge into the Heart of the Doubt; his languish about his Subjects, and delay our Expectation. Those are proper for the Schools, for the Bar, and for the Pulpit, where we have leisure to nod, and may awake a quarter of an hour after time enough to find again the Thread of the Discourse. It is necessary to speak after this manner to Judges, whom a Man has a Design, Right or Wrong, to incline to favour his Cause, to Children and Common-people; to whom a Man must say all he can, and try what effects his Eloquence can produce. I would not have an Author make it his business to render me attentive: Or that he should cry out fifty times, Oyez, as the Clerks and Heralds do. The Romans in their Religious Exercises, began with Hoc age: As we in ours do with Sursum corda, which are so many words lost to me: I come thither already fully prepared from my Chamber, I need no Allurement, no Invitation, no Sauce; I eat the Meat Raw, so that, instead of whetting my Appetite by these Preparatives, they tyre, and palls it. Will the Licence of the time excuse the Sacrilegious Boldness to censure the Dialogisms of Plato himself, 
And of Plato.  for as dull and heavy as the other before named, whilst he too much stifles his Matter? And to lament so much time lost by a Man who had so many better things to say, in so many long and needless Preliminary Interlocutions? My Ignorance will better excuse me in that, I understand not Greek so well, as to discern the Beauty of his Language. I would generally choose Books that use Sciences, not such as only lead to them. The two first, and Pliny, and their like, have nothing of this Hoc age; they will have to do with Men already instructed; or if they have, 'tis a substantial Hoc age, and that has a Body by itself. I also delight in reading his Epistles, ad Atticum; not only because they contain a great deal of History, and the Affairs of his time; but much more because I therein discover much of his own private Humour: For I have a singular curiosity (as I have said elsewhere) to pry into the Souls, and the Natural and True Judgements of the Authors with whom I converse. A Man may indeed judge of their Parts, but not of their Manners, nor of themselves, by the Writings they expose upon the Theatre of the World. I have a thousand times lamented the loss of the Treatise Brutus writ upon Virtue; for it is best Learning the Theory of those who best know the Practic. But seeing the thing preached, and the Preacher are different things, I would as willingly see Brutus in Plutarch, as in a Book of his own. I would rather choose to be certainly informed of the Conference he had in his Tent with some particular Friend of his the night before a Battle, than of the Harangue he made the next day to his Army; and of what he did in his Closet and his Chamber, than what he did in the Public Place, and in the Senate. As to Cicero, I am of the common Opinion that (Learning excepted) he had no great Natural Parts. He was a good Citizen, of an affable Nature, as all fat, heavy Men, such as he was, usually are: But given to ease, and had a mighty share of Vanity and Ambition. Neither do I know how to excuse him for thinking his Poetry fit to be published. 'Tis no great Imperfection to make ill Verses; but it is an Imperfection, not to be able to judge how unworthy his Verses were of the Glory of his Name. For what concerns his Eloquence, that is totally out of comparison, and I believe it will never be equalled. The younger Cicero, who resembled his Father in nothing but in Name, whilst commanding in Asia, had several Strangers one day at his Table, and, amongst the rest, Caestius seated at the lower end, as Men often intrude to the open Tables of the Great: Cicero asked one of the Waiters who that Man was, who presently told him his Name: But he, as one that had his Thoughts taken up with something else, and that had forgot the Answer made him, ask three or four times, over, and over again, the same Question; the Fellow, to deliver himself from so many Questions, and to make him know him by some particular Circumstance; 'Tis that Caestius, said he, of whom it was told you, that he makes no great Account of your Father's Eloquence in comparison of his own. At which, Cicero being suddenly nettled, commanded poor Caestius presently to be seized, and caused him to be very well whipped in his own presence; a very discourteous Entertainer! Yet even amongst those, who, all things considered, have reputed his Eloquence incomparable; there have been some however, who have not stuck to observe some Faults in his Writing: As that Great Brutus his Friend for example, who said 'twas a broken and feeble Eloquence, fractam & elumbem. The Orators also nearest to the Age wherein he lived, reprehended in him the Care he had of a certain long Cadence in his Periods, and particularly took notice of these Words, esse videatur, which he there so oft makes use of. For my part, I better approve of a shorter Style, and that comes more roundly off. He does, though sometimes, shuffle his Parts more briskly together, but 'tis very seldom. I have myself taken notice of this one Passage, Ego vero me minus diu senem mallem, quam esse senem, 
Cicero de Sencet.  antequam essem. The Historians are my true Province, for they are pleasant and easy, where immediately Man in general, the Knowledge of whom I hunt after, does there appear more lively and entire than any where besides: The Variety and Truth of his Internal Qualities, in gross and peace-meal, the diversity of means by which he is united and knit, and the Accidents that threaten him. Now those that write Lives, by reason they insist more upon Counsels than Events, more upon what sallies from within, than upon that which happens without, are the most proper for my reading; and therefore, above all others, Plutarch is the Man for me. I am very sorry we have not a dozen Laertii, or that he was not further extended, and better understood: For I am equally curious to know the Lives and Fortunes of these great Instructors of the World, as to know the Diversities of their Doctrines and Opinions. In this kind of Study (the reading of Histories) a Man must tumble over, without distinction, all sorts of Authors, both Antic and Modern; as well Barbarous and Absolute, as those of current Language, there to know the things of which they variously treat: 
Caesar's Com. commended.  But Caesar, in my Opinion, particularly deserves to be studied, not for the Knowledge of the History only, but for himself, so great an Excellence and Perfection he has above all the rest, though Sallust be one of the number. In earnest, I read this Author with more reverence and respect than is usually allowed to Humane Writings; one while considering him in his Person, by his Actions and miraculous Greatness, and another in the Purity and inimitable Neatness of his Language and Style, wherein he not only excels all other Historians, as Cicero confesses, but peradventure, even Cicero himself; speaking of his Enemies with so much Sincerity in his Judgement; that, the false Colours with which he strives to palliate his ill Cause, and the Ordure of his Pestilent Ambition excepted, I think there is no Fault to be objected against him, saving this, that he speaks too sparingly of himself, seeing so many great things could not have been performed under his Conduct, but that his own Personal Valour must necessarily have had a greater share in the Execution, than he attributes to himself. I love Historians, who are either very sincere, or very excellent. The Sincere who have nothing of their own to mix with it, and who only make it their Business to make a Faithful Collection of all that comes to their Knowledge, and Faithfully to record all things without Choice or Prejudice, leaving to us the entire Judgement of discerning the Truth of things. Such, for example amongst others, as honest Froissard, who has proceeded in his Undertaking with so frank a Plainness, that having committed an Error, 
Froissard.  he is not ashamed to confess, and correct it in the place where the Finger has been laid, and who represents to us even the Variety of Rumours that were then spread abroad, and the different Reports that were made to him; which is the naked and unaffected Matter of History, and of which every one may make his Profit, according to his proportion of Understanding. The more excellent sort of Historians have Judgement to pick out what is most worthy to be known; and, of two Reports, to examine which is the most likely to be true: From the Condition of Princes, and their Humours, they conclude the Counsels, and attribute to them Words proper for the Occasion; and such have Title to assume the Authority of Regulating our Belief to what they themselves believe; but certainly, this Privilege belongs not to every one. For the middle sort of Historians (of which, the most part are) they spoil all; they will chew our Meat for us, they take upon them to judge of, and consequently, to incline the History to their own Liking; for if the Judgement partially lean to one side, a Man cannot avoid wresting and writhing his Narrative to that Bias. They undertage to choose things worthy to be known, and yet very oft conceal from us such a Word, such a private Action, as would much better instruct us; omit, as incredible, such things as they do not understand, and peradventure some, because they cannot express them well in good French or Latin. Let them, in God's Name, display their Eloquence, and judge according to their own fancy: but let them, withal, leave us something to judge of after them, and neither altar, nor disguise, by their Abridgements, and at their own Choice, any thing of the substance of the Matter; but deliver it to us pure and entire in all its Dimensions. For the most part, and especially in these latter Ages, Persons are culled out for this Wor●● from amongst the Common-people, upon the sole Consideration of Well-speaking, as if we were to learn Grammar from thence; and the Men so chosen have also reason, being hired for no other End, and pretending to nothing but Babble, not to be very solicitous of any part but that, and so, with a fine Gingle of Words, prepare us a pretty Contexture of Reports, they pick up in the Streets. The only good Histories are those that have been writ by the Persons themselves who commanded in the Affairs whereof they write, or who have participated in the Conduct of them, or, at least, who have had the Conduct of others of the same nature. Such almost, are all the Greek and Roma● 〈◊〉 For several Eye-Witnesses having writ of the 〈◊〉 Subject (in the time when Grandeur and Learning frequently met in the same Person) if there happen to be an Error, it must of necessity be a very slight one, and upon a very doubtful Accident. What can a Man expect from a Physician, who will undertake to write of War; or from a mere Scholar, treating upon the Designs of Princes? If we could take notice how religious the Romans were in this, there would need but this Example: Asinius Pollio found in the History of Caesar himself, something misreported; a Mistake occasioned, either by reason he could not have his Eye in all parts of his Army at once, and had given Credit to some particular Person, who had not delivered him a very true Account; or else, for not having had too perfect notice given him by his Lieutenants, of what they had done in his Absence. By which we may see, whether the Inquisition after Truth be not very delicate, when a Man cannot believe the Report of a Battle from the Knowledge of him who there commanded, nor from the Soldiers who were engaged in it, unless, after the Method of a Judiciary Information, the Witnesses be confronted, and the Challenges received upon the Proof of the punctilio's of every Accident. In good earnest, the Knowledge we have of our own private Affairs, is much more obscure: But that has been sufficiently handled by Bodin, and according to my own Sentiment. A little to relieve the weakness of my Memory (so extreme, that it has happened to me more than once, to take Books again into my hand for new, and unseen, that I had carefully read over a few Years before, and scribbled with my Notes) I have taken a Custom of late, to fix at the end of every Book (that is, of those I never intended to read again) the Time, when I made an end on't, and the Judgement I had made of it, to the end that that might, at least, represent to me the Air and general Idea, I had conceived of the Author in reading it; and I will here transcribe some of those Annotations. I writ this, some ten Years ago, 
Censure of Guicciardin.  in my Guicciardin (of what Language soever my Books speak to me in, I always speak to them in my own:) He is a diligent Historiographer, and from whom, in my Opinion, a Man may learn the truth of the Affairs of his time, as exactly as from any other; in the most of which he was himself also a personal Actor, and in honourable Command. 'Tis not to be imagined, that he should have disguised any thing, either upon the account of Hatred, Favour, or Vanity; of which, the liberal Censures he passes upon the Great Ones; and particularly, those by whom he was advanced, and employed in Commands of great Trust and Honour (as Pope Clement the Seventh) give ample Testimony. As to that part, which he thinks himself the best at, namely, his Digressions and Discourses; he has, indeed, very good ones, and enriched with fine Expressions; but he is too fond of them: for, to leave nothing unsaid, having a Subject so plain, ample, and almost infinite, he degenerates into Pedantry, and relishes a little of the Scholasting Prattle. I have also observed this in him, That of so many Souls, and so many Effects; so many Motives, and so many Counsels as he judges of, he never attributes any one to Virtue, Religion, or Conscience; as if all those were utterly extinct in the World: And of all the Actions, how brave, in outward show, soever they appear in themselves, he always throws the Cause and Motive upon some vicious Occasion, or some prospect of Profit. It is impossible to imagine, but that, amongst such an infinite number of Actions, as he makes mention of, there must be some one produced by the way of Reason. No Corruption could so universally have infected Men, that some one would not have escaped the Contagion: Which makes me suspect, that his own Taste was vicious; from whence it might happen, that he judged other Men by himself. In my Philip de Comines, there is this written; 
And of Philip de Commines.  You will here find the Language sweet and delightful, of a native Simplicity, the Narration pure, and wherein the Veracity of the Author does evidently shine; free from Vanity, when speaking of himself; and from Affection or Envy, when speaking of others: His Discourses and Exhortations more accompanied with Zeal and Truth, than with any exquisite Sufficiency; and throughout, with Authority and Gravity, which speak him a Man of Extraction, and nourished up in great Affairs. Upon the Memoirs of Monsieur du Bellay, I find this; 'Tis always pleasant to read things writ by those that have experimented how they ought to be carried on; but withal, it cannot be denied but there is a manifest Decadence in these two Lords from the freedom and liberty of Writing, that shines in the ancient Historians: Such as the Sire de Jovin-ville, a Domestic to St. Lovis; Eginard, Chancellor to Charlemagne; and, of latter date, in Philip de Commines. This here is rather an Apology for King Francis, against the Emperor Charles the Fifth, than a History. I will not believe that they have falsified any thing, as to Matter of Fact; but they make a common practice of wresting the Judgement of Events (very often contrary to Reason) to our advantage, and of omitting whatsoever is nice to be handled in the Life of their Master; witness the Relation of Messieurs de Montmorency, and de Brion, which were here omitted: nay, so much as the very name of Madam d'Estampes is not here to to be found. Secret Actions an Historian may conceal; but to pass over in silence what all the World knows, and things that have drawn after them public Consequences, is an inexcusable defect. In fine, Whoever has a mind to have a perfect Knowledge of King Francis, and the Revolutions of his Reign, let him seek it elsewhere, if my Advice may prevail. The only profit a Man can reap from hence is, from the particular Narrative of Battles, and other Exploits of War, wherein these Gentlemen were personally engaged; some Words, and private Actions of the Princes of their time, and the Practices and Negotiations carried on by the Seigneur de Langcay; where, indeed, there are, every where, things worthy to be known, and Discourses above the vulgar Strain.   

CHAP. XI. Of Cruelty.  
I Fancy Virtue to be something else, 
Inclinations to Goodness.  and something more noble, than good Nature, and the mere Propension to Goodness, that we are born into the World withal. Well disposed, and well descended Souls pursue, indeed, the same Methods, and represent the same Face, that Virtue itself does: But the word Virtue imports, I know not what, more great, and active, than merely for a Man to suffer himself, by a happy Disposition, to be gently and quietly drawn to the Rule of Reason. He who, by a natural Sweetness and Facility, should despise Injuries received, would, doubtless, do a very great, and a very laudable thing; but he who, provoked, and nettled to the Quick, by an Offence, should fortify himself with the Arms of Reason, against the furious Appetite of Revenge, and, after a great Conflict, master his own Passion, would, doubtless, do a great deal more. The first would do well; and the latter virtuously: one Action might be called Bounty, and the other Virtue; for, methinks, the very name of Virtue presupposes Difficulty and Contention; and 'tis for this reason, perhaps, that we call God Good, Mighty, Liberal and Just; but we do not give him the Attribute of Virtuous, being that all his Operations are natural, 
Thai Virtue cannot be exercised without some difficulty.  and without Endeavour. It has been the Opinion of many Philosophers, not only Stoics, but Epicureans, that it is not enough to have the Soul seated in a good place, of a good temper, and well disposed to Virtue. It is not enough to have our Resolutions fixed above all the power of Fortune, but that we are, moreover, to seek occasions wherein to put it to the proof: We are to covet Pain, Necessity and Contempt, to contend with them, and to keep the Soul in Breath: Multum sibi adjicit virtus lacessita. 'Tis one of the Reasons why Epaminondas, who was yet of a third Sect, 
Sen. Epist. 25.  refused the Riches Fortune presented to him by very lawful means; because, said he, I am to contend with Poverty: In which Extreme he maintained himself to the last. Socrates put himself, methinks, upon a rude Trial; keeping for his Exercise, a confounded scolding Wife, which was fight at Sharp. Metellus having, of all the Senators, alone attempted, by the power of Virtue, to withstand the Violence of Saturninus, Tribune of the People at Rome, who would, by all means, cause an unjust Law to pass in favour of the Commons; and by so doing, having incurred the Capital Penalties that Saturninus had established against the Dissenters, entertained those who, in this Extremity led him to Execution, with words to this effect: That it was a thing too easy, and too base, to do ill; and that to do well where there was no danger, was a common thing; but that to do well where there was danger, was the proper Office of a Man of Virtue. These words of Metellus do very clearly represent to us, what I would make out; viz. That Virtue refuses Facility for a Companion; and that that easy, smooth and descending Way, by which the regular Steps of a sweet Disposition of Nature are conducted, is not that of a true Virtue: She requires a rough and stormy Passage; she will have either Exotic Difficulties to wrestle with, (like that of Metellus) by means whereof Fortune delights to interrupt the Speed of her Career; or internal Difficulties, that the inordinate Appetites and Imperfections of our Condition introduce to disturb her. I am come thus far at my ease; but here it comes into my head, that the Soul of Socrates, 
The Virtue of Socrates.  the most perfect that ever came to my knowledge, should, by this Rule, be of very little Recommendation; for I cannot conceive in that Person any the least Motion of a vicious Inclination: I cannot imagine there could be any Difficulty, or Constraint, in the Course of his Virtue: I know his Reason to be so powerful and sovereign over him, that she would never have suffered a vicious Appetite so much as to spring in him. To a Virtue so elevated, as his, I have nothing to oppose. Methinks I see him march, with a victorious and triumphant pace, in Pomp, and at his Ease, without Opposition or Disturbance. If Virtue cannot shine bright, but by the Conflict of contrary Appetites, shall we then say, that she cannot subsist without the Assistance of Vice; and that it is from her, that she derives her Reputation and Honour? What then also would become of that brave and generous Epicurean Pleasure, which makes account that it nourishes Virtue tenderly in her Lap, and there makes it play and wanton, giving it for Toys to play withal, Shame, Fevers, Poverty, Death and Torments? If I presuppose that a perfect Virtue manifests itself in Contending, in patient enduring of Pain, and undergoing the uttermost extremity of the Gout, without being moved in her Seat; if I give her Austerity and Difficulty for her necessary Objects: what will become of a Virtue elevated to such a degree, as, not only to despise Pain, but, moreover, to rejoice in it, and to be tickled with the Daggers of a sharp Colic, such as the Epicureans have established, and of which, many of them, by their Actions, have given most manifest Proofs? As have several others, who I find to have surpassed, in effects, even the very Rules of their own Discipline: 
The noble Death of Cato accompanied with Pleasure.  Witness the younger Cato; when I see him die, and tearing out his own Bowels, I am not satisfied simply to believe, that he had then his Soul totally exempt from all Troubles and Horror: I cannot think that he only maintained himself in the Steadiness that the Stoical Rules prescribed him; Temperate without Emotion, and imperturbed: There was, methinks, something in the Virtue of this Man, too sprightly and youthful to stop there; I do believe that, without doubt, he felt a pleasure and delight in so noble an Action, and was more pleased in it, than in any other of his Life: 
Cicero. Those. lib. 1.  Sic abiit è vita, ut causam moriendi nactum se esse gauderet. I believe so far, that I question whether he would have been content to have been deprived of the occasion of so brave an Execution. And if the Sincerity that made him embrace the public Concern more than his own withheld me not, I should easily fall into an Opinion, that he thought himself obliged to Fortune for having put his Virtue upon so brave a Trial, and for having favoured that 
* Caesar.  Thief, in treading under foot the ancient Liberty of his Country. Methinks I read, in this Action, I know not what Exaltation in his Soul, and an extraordinary and manly Emotion of Pleasure, when he looked upon the Generosity and Height of his Enterprise: Deliberata morte ferocior. 
Hor. lib. 1. Ode 37.  Not stimulated with any hope of Glory, as the popular and effeminate Judgements of some have concluded; for that Consideration has been too mean and low to possess so generous, so haughty, and so obstinate a Heart as his: but for the very beauty of the thing in itself, which he, who had the handling of the Springs, discerned more clearly, and in its Perfection, than we are able to do. Philosophy has obliged me in determining that so brave an Action had been indecently placed in any other Life, than that of Cato; and that it only appertained to His, to end so. Notwithstanding, and according to Reason, he commanded his Son, and the Senators that accompanied him, to take another Course in their Affairs: 
Cicero de Offic. lib. 1.  Catoni, quum incredibilem natura tribuisset gravitatem, ●ámque ipse perpetua constantia roboravisset sempérque in proposito consilio permansisset, moriendum potius quam Tyranni vultus aspiciendus erat. Nature having endued Cato with an incredible Gravity, which he had also fortified with a perpetual Constancy, without ever flagging in his Resolution, he must of necessity rather die, than see the face of the Tyrant. Every Death ought to hold proportion with the Life before it. We do not become others for dying. I always interpret the Death, by the Life preceding; and if any one tell me of a Death strong and constant in appearance, annexed to a feeble Life, I conclude it produced by some feeble Cause, and suitable to the Life before. The Easiness then of this Death, and the Facility of Dying, he had acquired by the vigour of his Soul; shall we say, that it ought to abate any thing of the lustre of his Virtue? And who, that has his Brain never so little tinctured with the true Philosophy, can be content to imagine Socrates only free from Fear and Passion, in the Accident of his Prison, Fetters and Condemnation? And that will not discover in him, not only Stability and Constancy (which was his ordinary Composure) but moreover (I know not what) new Satisfaction, and a frolic Cheerfulness in his last Words and Actions? At the Start he gave, with the pleasure of scratching his Leg, when his Irons were taken off, does he not discover an equal Serenity and Joy in his Soul for being freed from past Inconveniences, and at the same time to enter into the Knowledge of things to come? Cato shall pardon me, if he please; his Death, indeed, is more tragical, and more taken notice of, but yet this is (I know not how) methinks finer. Aristippus, to one that was lamenting his Death; The Gods grant me such an one, said he. 
Virtue turned into Habit in Cato and Socrates.  A Man discerns in the Souls of these two great Men, and their Imitators (for I very much doubt, whether there was ever their like) so perfect a Habitude to Virtue, that it was turned to a Complexion. It is no more a laborious Virtue, nor the Precepts of Reason, to maintain which, the Soul is so wracked; but the very Essence of their Souls, their natural and ordinary Habit. They have rendered it such by a long Practice of Philosophical Precepts, having light upon a rich and ingenious Nature. The vicious Passions that spring in us, can find no Entrance into them. The Force and Vigour of their Souls stifle and extinguish irregular Desires, so soon as they begin to move. Now, that it is not more noble, by a high and divine Resolution, to hinder the Birth of Temptations; and to be so formed to Virtue, that the very Seeds of Vice be rooted out, than to hinder their Progress; and having suffered themselves to be surprised with the first Motions of Passions, to arm themselves, and to stand firm to oppose their Progress, and overcome them: And that this second Effect is not also much more generous, than to be simply endowed with a frail and affable Nature, of itself, disaffected to Debauchery and Vice, I do not think can be doubted; for this third and last sort of Virtue seems to render a Man innocent, but not virtuous; free from doing ill, but not apt enough to do well: considering also, that this Condition is so near Neighbour to Imperfection and Cowardice, that I know not very well how to separate the Confines, and distinguish them: The very name of Good Nature and Innocence are, for this reason, in some sort grown into Contempt. I very well know, that several Virtues, as Chastity, Sobriety and Temperance, may come to a Man through Personal Defects. Constancy in Danger, if it must be so called, the Contempt of Death, and Patience in Misfortunes, may oft times be found in Men, for want of well judging of such Accidents, and not apprehending them for such as they are. Want of Apprehension, and Sottishness, do sometimes counterfeit virtuous Effects: As I have oft seen it happen, that Men have been commended for what really merited Blame. An Italian Lord once said this, 
Italians subtle and quick of Apprehension.  in my presence, to the disadvantage of his own Nation; That the Subtlety of the Italians, and the Vivacity of their Conceptions, were so great, that they foresaw the Dangers and Accidents that might befall them, so far off, that it must not be thought strange, if they were often, in War, observed to provide for their Safety, even before they had discovered the Peril: That we French and Spaniards, who were not so cunning, went on further; and that we must be made to see and feel the danger, before we would take the Alarm; and that even than we had no Apprehension: But the Germans and Swiss, more heavy, 
Germans and Swisses Loggerheads.  and thick-skulled, had not the Sense to look about them, even then when the Blows were falling about their Ears. Peradventure, he only talked so for Mirth's sake; and yet it is most certain that, in War, raw Soldiers rush into danger with more Precipitancy, than after they have been well cudgelled. 

— Haud ignarus, quantùm nova gloria in armis, 
Aeneid. 11   
Et praedulce decus primo certamine possit.   

Not ignorant in the first Essay of Arms,  
How hope of Glory the raw Soldier warms.   For this reason it is, that, when we judge of a particular Action, we are to consider several Circumstances, and the whole Man by whom it is performed, before we give it a name. To instance in myself; I have sometimes known my Friends call that Prudence in me, which was merely Fortune; and repute that Courage and Patience, which was Judgement and Opinion; and attribute to me one Title for another, sometimes to my advantage, and sometimes otherwise. As to the rest, I am so far from being arrived at the first, and most perfect degree of Excellence, where Virtue is turned into Habit, that even of the second I have made no great Trial. I have not been very solicitous to curb the Desires, by which I have been importuned. My Virtue is a Virtue, or rather, an Innocence, casual and accidental. If I had been born of a more irregular Complexion, I am afraid I should have made scurvy work; for I never observed any great Stability in my Soul to resist Passions, if they were never so little vehement. I have not the knack of nourishing Quarrels and Debates in my own Bosom, and consequently, owe myself no great Thanks, that I am free from several Vices: 


Horat. lib. 1. Sat. 6.  Si vitiis mediocribus, & mea paucis  
Mendosa est natura, alioqui recta velut si  
Egregio inspersos reprehendas corpore naevos.   

If of small Crimes, and few, my Nature be  
To be accused, and from the great ones free,  
Those Venial Faults will no more spot my Soul,  
Than a fair Body's blemished with a Mole.   I owe it rather to my Fortune, than my Reason: She has made me to be descended of a Race famous for Integrity; and of a very good Father; I know not whether, or no, he has infused into me part of his Humours; or whether Domestic Examples, and the good Education of my Infancy hath insensibly assisted in the Work, or if I was otherwise born so; 

Seu Libra, 
Horat. lib. 2. Ode. 17.  seu me Scorpius aspicit  
Formidolosus, pars violentior  
Natalis horae, seu tyrannus  
Hesperiae Capricornus unde.   

Whether the Balance weighed my future Fate;  
Or Scorpio, Lord of my Ascendent sat;  
Or Tyrant Capricorn, that rudely sways,  
And ruffles up the Occidental Seas.   But so it is, that I have naturally a Horror for most Vices. The Answer of Antisthenes to him who asked him, Which was the best Apprentisage, To unlearn Evil, seems to point at this. I have them in Horror, I say, with a Detestation so Natural, and so much my own, that the same Instinct and Impression I brought with me from my Nurse, I yet retain, no Temptation whatever had the power to make me alter it. Not so much as my own Discourses, which in some things lashing out of the Common Road of modest Speaking, might easily licence me to Actions, that my Natural Inclination makes me hate. I will say a prodigious thing, but I will say it however. I find myself in many things more curbed and retained by my Manners than my Opinion, and my Concupiscence less debauched than my Reason. Aristippus instituted Opinions so bold, in favour of Pleasure and Riches, as made all the Philosophers murmur at him: But as to his Manners, Dionysius the Tyrant, having presented three Beautiful Women before him, to take his choice; he made answer, That he would choose them all, and that it had happened ill to Paris to have preferred one before the other two: But having taken them home to his House, he sent them back untouched. His Servant finding himself overladen upon the Way, with the Money he carried after him, he ordered him to pour out, and throw away, that which troubled him. And Epicurus, whose Doctrines were so irreligious and effeminate, was in his Life very laborious and devout: He writ to a Friend of his, that he lived only upon Biscuit and Water, entreating him to send him a little Cheese, to lie by him against he had a mind to make a Feast. Must it be true, that to be a perfect good Man, we must be so by an Occult, Natural and Universal Propriety, without Law, Reason or Example? The Debauches, wherein I have been engaged, have not been (I thank God) of the worse sort, and I have condemned them in myself, for my Judgement was never infected by them. On the contrary I accuse them more severely in myself, than in any other. But that is all, for, as to the rest, I oppose too little resistance, and suffer myself to incline too much to the other side of the Balance, excepting that I imoderate them, and prevent them from mixing with other Vices, which, for the most part, will cling together, if a Man have not a care. I have contracted and curtaled mine, to make them as single as I can: 

Ju. sat, 8.  Nec ultra  
Errorem foveo.   
For as to the Opinion of the Stoics, who say, That the Wise Man, when he Works, Works by all the Virtues together, though one be most apparent according to the Nature of the Action; (and of this the similitude of a Humane Body might serve them to some Instance, for the Action of Anger cannot work, but that all the Humours must assist, though Choler predominate) if from thence they will draw a like Consequence, that when the Wicked Man does wickedly, he does it by all the Vices together, I do not believe it to be simple so, or else I understand them not, for I effectually find the contrary. These are witty and substantial Subtleties, which Philosophy sometimes insists upon. I follow some Vices, but I fly others, as much as a Saint would do. The Peripatetics also disown this indissoluble Connexion; and Aristotle is of Opinion, that a Prudent, and Just Man may be intemperate and lascivious. Socrates' confessed to some, who had discovered a certain inclination to Vice in his Physiognomy, that it was, in truth, his Natural Propension, but that he had by Discipline corrected it. And such as were familiar with the Pihlosopher Stilpo hath said, That, being born subject to Wine and Women, he had by Study rendered himself very abstinent, both from the one, and the other. What I have in me of Good, I have, quite contrary, by the chance of my Birth; and hold it not either by Law, Precept, or any other Instruction. The Innocency, that is in me, is a simple and unexperienced one, little Vigour, and less Art. Amongst other Vices, I mortally hate Cruelty, both by Nature and Judgement, as the very extreme of all Vices: But with so much tenderness withal, that I cannot see a Chickens Neck pulled off, without trouble, and cannot without impatience, endure the Cry of a Hare in my Dog's Teeth, though the Chase be a violent Pleasure. Such as have Sensuality to encounter, willingly make use of this Argument, (to show that it is altogether vicious and unreasonable) that when it is at the height, it subjects us to that degree, that a Man's Reason can have no access, and instance our own Experience in the Act of Love. Wherein they conceive, that the Pleasure does so transport us, that our Reason cannot perform its Office, whilst we are so benumned and ecstasied in Delight. I know very well, it may be otherwise, and that a Man may sometimes, if he will, gain this point over himself to sway his Soul, even in the Critical moment, to think of some thing else: But then he must leisurely incline, and ply it to that bent. I know, that a Man may triumph over the utmost effort of this Pleasure: I have experienced it in myself, and have not found Venus so imperious a Goddess, as many, and some more reformed than I, declare. I do not consider it as a Miracle, as the Queen of Navarre does in one of the Tales of her Heptameron, (which is a marvilous pretty Book of that kind) nor for a thing of extreme difficulty, to pass over whole Nights, where a Man has all the Convenience and Liberty he can desire, with a long-coveted Mistress, 
The Pleasure of the Chase, What  and yet be just to his Faith first given to satisfy himself with Kisses, and innocent Embraces, without pressing any further. I conceive that the Example of the Pleasure of the Chase would be more proper; wherein though the Pleasure be less, yet the Ravishment and the Surprise are more, by which the Reason, being astonished, has not so much leisure to prepare itself for the Encounter, when after a long Quest, the Beast starts up on a sudden in a place, where, peradventure, we lest expected. Which sudden motion, with the ardour of the Shouts and Cries of the Hunters, so strikes us, that it would be hard for such as are eager of the Chase, to turn their Thoughts, upon the instant, another way; And also the Poets make Diana triumph over the Torch and Shafts of Cupid. 

Quis non malarum quas amor curas habet 
Hor. Ep. 2.   
Haec inter obliviscitur?   

Who amongst such Delights would not remove  
Out of his Thoughts the anxious cares of Love?   But to return to what I was saying before, I am tenderly compassionate of other's Afflictions, and should easily cry for Company, if upon any occasion whatever, I could cry at all. Nothing tempts my Tears, but Tears, and not only those that are real and true, but whatever they are, either feigned or painted: I do not much lament the Dead, and should envy them rather; but I very much lament the Dying. The Savages do not so much offend me, in roasting and eating the Bodies of the Dead, as they do, who torment and persecute the Living. Nay, I cannot look so much as upon the ordinary Executions of Justice, how reasonable soever, with a steady Eye. Some one being to give testimony of Julius Caesar's Clemency, 
Julius Caesar 's Clemency.  he was, says he, mild and moderate in his Revenges: For having compelled the Pirates to yield, by whom he had before been taken Prisoner, and put to Ransom; forasmuch as they had threatened him with the Cross, he indeed condemned them to it, but it was after they had been first strangled. He punished his Secretary Philomon, who had attempted to poison him, with no greater severity, than a single Death. Without naming that Latin Author, that dare allege for a Testimony of Mercy, the killing only of those by whom we have been offended: It is easy to guests that he was struck with the horrid and inhuman Examples of Cruelty, practised by the Roman Tyrants. For my part, even in Justice itself, all that exceeds a Simple Death, appears to me perfect Cruelty; especially in us who ought to have regard to their Souls, to dismiss them in a good and calm Condition; which cannot be, when we have discomposed them by insufferable Torments. Not long since, a Soldier, who was a Criminal Prisoner, perceiving from a Tower, where he was shut up, that the people began to assemble to the place of Execution, and that the Carpenters were busy, erecting a Scaffold, he presently concluded, that the Preparation was for him; and therefore entered into a Resolution to kill himself, but could find no Instrument to assist him in his Design, saving an old rusty Cart-Nayle, that Fortune presented to him. With this he first gave himself two great Wounds about his Throat, but finding those would not do, he presently after gave himself a third in the Belly, where he left the Nail sticking up to the head. The first of his Keepers that came in, found him in this Condition; yet alive, but sunk down, and near expiring by his Wounds. To make use of time therefore, before he should die and defeat the Law, they made haste to read his Sentence: Which having done, and he hearing that he was only condemned to be Beheaded, he seemed to take new Courage, accepted of Wine, which he had before refused, and thanked his Judges for the unhoped for Mildness of their Sentence; saying, That indeed he had taken a resolution to dispatch himself for fear of a more severe and insupportable Death: Having entertained an Opinion by the Preparations he had seen in the Place, that they were resolved to torment him with some horrible Execution; and seemed to be delivered from Death, for having it changed from what he apprehended. I should advise, that these Examples of Severity, by which 'tis designed to retain the people in their Duty, might be exercised upon the dead Bodies of Criminals; for to see them deprived of Sepulture, to see them boiled, and divided into Quarters, would almost work as much upon the Vulgar, as the Pain they make the Living to endure; though that in effect be little or nothing, as God himself says, 
St. Luke Chap. 12. v. 40.  Who kill the Body, and, after that, have no more that they can do. I happened to come by one day accidentally at Rome, just as they were upon executing Catena, a notorious Robber: He was strangled without any Emotion of the Spectators, but when they came to cut him in Quarters, the Hangman gave not a Blow, that the People did not follow with a doleful Cry, and with Exclamation, as if every one had lent his Feeling to the miserable Carcase. Those inhuman Excesses ought to be exercised upon the Bark, and not upon the Quick. Artaxerxes, 
The severe Laws of Persia, moderated by Artaxerxes.  in almost a like case, moderated the Severity of the Ancent Laws of Persia, Ordaining, that the Nobility, who had committed a Fault, instead of being whipped, as they were used to be, should be stripped only, and their clothes whipped for them; and that, whereas they were wont to tear off their Hair, they should only take off their High-crowned Tiara. 
Hogs Sacrificed in Figure to the Divine Justice by the Egyptians.  The so devout Egyptians, thought they sufficiently satisfied the Divine Justice, in Sacrificing Hogs in Effigy and Representation; a bold Invention to pay God, so Essential a Substance in Picture only, and in show. I live in a time, wherein we abound in credible Examples of this Vice, through the licence of our Civil Wars; and we see nothing in Ancient Histories more extreme, than what we have proof of every day. I could hardly persuade myself, 
The Cruelties exercised in Civil Wars.  before I saw it with my Eyes, that there could be found out Souls so cruel and fell, who, for the sole Pleasure of Murder would commit, hack, and lop off the Limbs of others; sharpen their Wits to invent unusual Torments, and new kinds of Deaths without Hatred, without Profit, and for no other end, but only to enjoy the pleasant Spectacle of the Gestures and Motions, the lamentable Groans and Cries of a Man in anguish. For this is the utmost point to which Cruelty can arrive, Vt hominem non iratus, 
Sen. de Clem.  non timens, tantùm spectaturus occidat. That a Man should kill a Man without being angry, or without fear, only for the Pleasure of the Spectacle. For my own part, I cannot, without Grief, see so much as an innocent Beast pursued, and killed, that has no Defence, and from whom we have received no Offence at all. And that which frequently happens, that the Stage we hunt, finding himself weak, and out of breath, seeing no other Remedy surrenders himself to us, who pursue him, imploring Mercy by his Tears, 

— questuque cruentus, 
Aeneid. l. 7.   
Atque imploranti similis,   

That Bleeding by his Tears, does Mercy crave.   It has ever been to me a very unpleasing sight; 
Beasts brought alive by Pythagoras to turn out.  and I hardly ever take beast alive, that I do not presently turn out. Pythagoras bought them of Fishermen and Fowlers, to do the same. 


Ovid. Met. lib. 15. — primòque à caede ferarum,  
Incaluisse puto maculatum sanguine ferrum.   

I think, 'twas Slaughter of wild beasts that made  
Too docile Man first learn the Killing Trade.   Those Natures that are sanguinary towards Beasts, discover a Natural Propension to Cruelty. After they had accustomed themselves at Rome, to Spectacles of the Slaughter of Animals, they proceeded to those of the Slaughter of Men, the Fencers. Nature has herself (I doubt) imprinted in Man a kind of instinct to Inhumanity; no body takes pleasure in seeing Beasts play, and caress one another, but every one is delighted with seeing them dismember, and tear one another to pieces. And that I may not be laughed at for the sympathy I have with them, Theologie itself enjoins us some Favour in their behalf: And considering that one, and the same Master, has lodged us together in this Palace, for his Service, and that they, as well as we, are of his Family, it has reason to enjoin us some affection and regard to them. 
Pythagoras' his Transmutation of Souls. Id ibid.  Pythagoras' borrowed the Metempsychosis from the Egyptians, but it has since been received by several Nations, and particularly by our Druids. 

Morte carent animae, sempèrque priore relicta  
Sede, novis domibus vivunt, hàbitantque receptae.   

Souls never die, but, having left one Seat,  
Into new Houses they Admittance get.   The Religion of our Ancient Gauls maintained, that Souls, being Eternal, never ceased to remove and shift their places from one body to another: Mixing moreover, with this Fancy, some Consideration of Divine Justice. For according to the Deportments of the Soul, whilst it had been in Alexander, they said, that God ordered it another body to inhabit, more or less painful, and proper for its Conditions. 

— muta ferarum 
Clad. in Ruff. lib. 2.   
Cogit vincla pati, truculentos ingerit ursis,  
Pradonèsque lupis, fallaces vulpibus addit,  
Atque ubi per varios annos per mille figuras  
Egit, Lethaeo purgatos flumine tandem  
Rursus ad humanae revocat primordia formae.   

The silent Yoke of Brutes he made them wear,  
The Bloody Souls he did enclose in Bears,  
The ravenousin Woolves he wisely shut,  
The sly and cunning he in Foxes put,  
Where after having, through successive years  
And thousand Figures, finished their Careers,  
Purging them well in Lethe's Flood, at last  
In humane Bodies he the Souls replaced.   If it had been valiant, he lodged it in the Body of a Lion; if voluptuous, in that of Hog; if timorous in that of a Hart or Hare, if subtle; in that of a Fox, and so of the rest, till having purified it by this Chastisement, it again entered into the Body of some other Man; 


Ovid. Met. lib. 15.  Ipse ego, nam memini, Trojani tempore Belli  
Panthoides Euphorbus eram.   

For I myself remember in the days  
O'th' Trojan War, that I Euphorbus was.    
As to the Relation betwixt us and Beasts, I do not much admit of it, 
Beasts revered for Gods by some of the Ancients.  nor allow what several Nations, and those the most Ancient and most Noble, have practised, who have not only received Brutes into their Society, but have given them a Rank infinitely above them; Esteeming them one while Familiars and Favourites of the Gods, and having them in more, than humane, Reverence and Respect; and others knowing no other, nor other Divinity but they. Belluae à Barbaris propter beneficium consecratae. The Barbarians consecrated Beasts, out of Opinion of some Benefit received by them, 


Juven. sat. 15. — Crocodilon adorat  
Pars haec, illa pavet saturam serpentibus Ibin,  
Effigies sacri hic nitet aurea Cercopitheci.  
— Hic piscem fluminis, illic  
Oppida tota canem venerantur.   

One Country does adore the Crocodile,  
That does inhabit Monster-breeding Nile,  
Another does the Long-bild Ibis' dread,  
With poisonous Flesh of ugly Serpents fed.  
And in another place you may behold  
The Statue of a Monkey shine in Gold;  
Here Men, some monstrous Fish's aid implore,  
And there whole Towns a Grinning Dog adore.   And the very Interpretation, that Plutarch gives to this Error, which is very well taken, is advantageous to them: For he says, that it was not the Cat; or the Ox (for example) that the Egyptians adored: But that they in those Beasts adored some Image of the Divine Faculties; in this the Patience and Utility, in that the Vivacity, or, as our Neighbours, the Burgundians, with the Germans, the Impatience to see itself shut up; by which, they represented the Liberty they loved and adored, above all other Divine Faculty, and so of the rest. But when amongst the more moderate Opinions, I meet with Arguments, that endeavour to demonstrate the near resemblance betwixt us and Animals, how great a share they in our greatest Privileges, and with how great probability they compare and couple us together, in earnest, I abate a great deal of our Presumption, and willingly let fall the Title of that imaginary Sovereignty, that some attribute to us over other Creatures. But supposing all this were true, there is nevertheless a certain Respect, and a general Duty of Humanity, that ties us not only to Beasts that have Li●e, and Sense, but even to Trees and Plants. We owe Justice to Men, and Grace and Benignity to other Creatures that are capable of it. There is a certain Natural Commerce, and Mutual Obligation betwixt them and us; neither shall I be afraid to discover the Tenderness of my Nature so childish, that I cannot well refuse to play with my Dog, when he the most unseasonably importunes me so to do. The Turks have Alms and Hospitals for Beasts. The Romans had a public regard to the Nourishment of Geese, by whose Vigilancy their Capitol had been preserved: The Athenians made a Decree, that the Mules and Moils which had served at the building of the Temple called Hecatompedon, should be free, and suffered to pasture at their own choice without hindrance. The Agrigentines had a common usance solemnly to enter the Beasts, they had a kindness for; as Horses of some rare qualities, Dogs, and Birds of whom they had had profit, and even those that had only been kept to divert their Children. And the Magnificence that was ordinary with them in all other things, did also particularly appear in the Sumptuosity and Numbers of Monuments, erected to this very end, that remained in their Beauty several Ages after. The Egyptians buried Wolves, Bears, Crocodiles, Dogs and Cats in Sacred Places, embalmed their Bodies, and put on Mourning at their Death. Cimon gave an honourable Sepulture to the Mares, with which he had three times gained the Prize of the Course at the Olympic Games. The Ancient Xanthippus caused his Dog to be interred on an Eminence near the Sea, which has ever since retained the Name. And Plutarch says, That he made Conscience of selling, for a small profit to the Slaughter, an Ox, that had been long in his Service.   

CHAP. XII. Apology for Raimond de Sebonde.  
LEarning is, in truth, a very great, and a very considerable quality; and such as despise it, sufficiently discover their own want of Understanding: But yet I do not prise it at the excessive rate, some others do; as Herillus the Philosopher for one, who therein places the Sovereign Good, and maintained, that it was only in her to render us wise and contented, which I do not believe; no more than I do, what others have said, That Learning is the Mother of all Virtue, and that all Vice proceeds from Ignorance, which, if it be true, is subject to a very long Interpretation. My House has long been open to Men of Knowledge, and is very well known, so to be; for my Father, who governed it Fifty years, and more, inflamed with the new ardour, with which, 
Learning brought in to esteem by Francis the First in France.  Francis the First embraced Letters, and brought them into esteem, with great Diligence and Expense hunted after the Acquaintance of Learned Men, receiving them at his House, as Persons Sacred, and that had some particular Inspiration of Divine Wisdom; collecting their Sayings and Sentences as so many Oracles, and with so much the greater Reverence and Religion, as he was the less able to judge; for he had no Knowledge of Letters, no more than his Predecessors. For my part, I love them well, but I do not adore them. Amongst others, Peter Bunel, a Man of great Reputation for Knowledge in his time, having, with some others of his sort, stayed some days at Montaigne, in my Father's Company; he presented him, at his departure, with a Book, Entitled, Theologia naturalis; sive Liber Creaturarum Magistri Raimondi de Sebonde. And being that the Italian and Spanish Tongues were familiar to my Father; 
Sebonde.  and that this Book is writ in Spanish, sustianed with Latin Terminations, he hoped that, with little help, he might be able to understand it, and therefore recommended it to him for a very useful piece, and proper for the time wherein he gave it to him; which was then, when the Novel Doctrines of Martin Luther began to be in vogue, and in many places to stagger our ancient Belief: Wherein he was very well advised, wisely, in his own Reason, foreseeing, that the beginning of this Distemper would easily run into an Execrable Atheism; for the Vulgar not having the Faculty of judging of things themselves, suffering themselves to be carried away by appearance, after having once been inspired with the Boldness to despise and control those Opinions they had before, had in extremest Reverence, such as those wherein their Salvation is concerned, and that some of the Articles of their Religion were brought into Doubt and Dispute; they afterwards throw all other parts of their Belief into the same uncertainty, they having in them no other Authority or Foundation, than the other they had already discomposed; and shake of all the Impressions they had received from the Authority of the Laws, or the Reverence of Ancient Custom, as a Tyrannical Yoke; 

Nam cupidè inculcatur nimis antè metutum.   

For with most Eagerness they spurn the Law, 
Lucr. lib. 5.   
By which they were before most kept in awe.   Resolving to admit nothing for the future, to which they had not first interposed their own Decrees, and given their particular Consent. It happened that my Father, a little before his death, having accidentally found this Book under a heap of other neglected Papers, commanded me to translate it for him into French. 
What Books are proper to translate.  It is good to translate such Authors as that, where is little but the matter itself to express; but such wherein the Ornament of a Language and Elegancy of Style, is the main Endeavour, are dangerous to attempt; especially, when a Man is to turn them into a weaker Idiom. It was a strange and a new Undertaking for me; but having, by chance, at that time, little else to do, and not being able to resist the Command of the best Father that ever was, I did it as well as I could; and he was so well pleased with it, as to ordered it to be Printed; which also, after his death, was performed. I found the Imagination of this Author exceeding fine, the Contexture of his Work well followed, and his Design full of Piety; and because many People take a delight to read it, and particularly the Ladies, to whom we owe the most Service, I have often been ready to assist them, to clear the Book of two principal Objections. His Design is hardy, and bold; for he undertakes, by Humane and Natural Reasons, to establish, and make good against the Atheists, all the Articles of Christian Religion: wherein (to speak the truth) he is so firm, and so successful, that I do not think it possible to do better upon that Subject; and do believe that he has been equalled by none. This Work seeming to me to be too beautiful, and too rich for an Author, whose Name is so little known, and of whom, all that we know is, that he was a Spaniard who professed Physic at Tholouse about two hundred Years ago; I enquired of Adrian Turnebus, who knew all things, what he thought of that Book; who made Answer, That he thought it was some Abstract drawn from St. Thomas of Aquin; for that, in truth, his Wit, full of infinite Learning, and absolute Subtlety, was only capable of those Thoughts. So it is, that, whoever was the Author and Inventor (and 'tis not reasonable, without greater occasion, to deprive Sebonde of that Title) he was a Man of great Sufficiency, 
Object. against Sebonde 's Book the first.  and most admirable Parts. The first thing they reprehend in his Work is, That Christians are too blame to repose their Belief upon Humane Reasons, which is only conceived by Faith, and the particular Inspiration of Divine Grace. In which Objection, there appears to be something of Zeal to Piety, and therefore we are to endeavour to satisfy those who put it forth, with the greater Mildness and Respect. This were a Task more proper for a Man well read in Divinity, than for me who know nothing of it; nevertheless, I conceive that, in a thing so divine, so high, and so far transcending all Humane Intelligence, as this Truth, with which it has pleased the Bounty of Almighty God to enlighten us, it is very necessary that he should, moreover, lend us his Assistance after a very extraordinary Method of Favour, to conceive and imprint it in our Understandings; and do not believe, that Means purely humane, are in any sort capable of doing it: for, if they were, so many rare and excellent Souls, and so abundantly furnished with natural Force, in former Ages, had not failed, by their Reason, to arrive at this Knowledge. 'Tis Faith alone, that livelily and certainly comprehends the deep Mysteries of our Religion; but withal, I do not say, that it is not a brave, and a very laudable Attempt, to accommodate the Natural and Humane Utensils, that God has endowed us with, to the Service of our Faith: It is not to be doubted, but that it the most noble use we can put them to; and that there is not a design in a Christian-Man more noble, than to make it the Aim and End of all his Thoughts and Studies, to extend and amplify the truth of his Belief. We do not satisfy ourselves with serving God with our Souls and Understanding only, we moreover owe and render him a Corporal Reverence, and apply our Limbs, Motions, and external Things, to do him Honour; we must here do the same, and accompany our Faith with all the Reason we have, but always with this Reservation, not to fancy that it is upon us that it depends, nor that our Arguments and Endeavours can arrive at so supernatural and divine a Knowledge. If it enter not into us by an extraordinary Infusion; if it only enter, not only by Arguments of Reason, but, moreover, by Human Ways, it is not in us in its true Dignity and Splendour; and yet, I am afraid we only have it by this way. If we laid hold upon God by the Mediation of a lively Faith; 
The marvellous effects of lively Faith.  if we laid hold upon God by him, and not by us; if we had a Divine Basis and Foundation, Human Accidents would not have the power to shake us as they do, our Fortress were not to render to so weak a Battery: the Love of Novelty, the Constraint of Princes, the Success of one Party, and the rash and fortuitous Change of our Opinions would not have the power to stagger, and alter our Belief: We should not then leave it to the Mercy of every novel Argument, nor abandon it to all the Rhetoric in the World: We should withstand the fury of these Waves with an immote, and unyielding Constancy. 

Illisos fluctus rupes ut vasta refundit, 
Incerto.   
Et varias circùm latrantes dissipat undas  
Mcle sua.   

As a vast Rock repels the rolling Tides,  
That foam and bark about her Marble Sides,  
From the Strong Mole   If we were but touched with this Ray of Divinity, it would appear throughout; not only our Words, but our Works also, would carry its Brightness and Lustre; whatever proceeded from us, would be seen illuminated with this noble Light. We ought to be ashamed, that, in all the Human Sects, there never was any of the Faction, what Difficulty and strange Novelty soever his Doctrine imposed upon him, that did not, in some measure, conform his Life and Deportments to it, whereas so Divine and Heavenly an Institution, does only distinguish Christians by the Name. Will you see the Proof of this? Compare our Manners to those of a Mahometan or Pagan, you will still find, that we fall very short; whereas out of regard to the Reputation, and Advantage of our Religion, we ought to shine in Virtue, and that it should be said of us, Are they so Just, so Charitable, 
Virtue, the particular mark of Christian Religion.  so Good? Then they are Christians. All other Signs are common to all Religions; Hope, Trust, Events, Ceremonies, Penance and Martyrs. The peculiar Mark of our Truth ought to be our Virtue, as it is also the most heavenly and difficult, and the most Worthy Product of Truth. For this, our good St. Lewis was in the right; when the King of the Tartars, who was become Christian, designed to come to Lions, to kiss the Pope's Feet, and there to be an Eye-witness of the Sanctity he hoped to find in our Manners; immediately to divert him from his purpose; for fear lest our inordinate way of Living should on the contrary put him out of conceit with so holy a Belief. And yet it happened quite otherwise since to this other, who going to Rome to the same End, and there seeing the Dissolution of the Prelates, and people of that time, settled himself so much the more firmly in our Religion, considering how great the Force and Divinity of it must necessarily be, that could maintain its Dignity and Splendour amongst so much Corruption, and in so Vicious Hands. If we had but one single Grain of Faith, we should remove Mountains from their places, says the Sacred Word; our Actions, that would then be directed and accompanied by the Divinity, would not be merely Human, they would have in them something of Miraculous, as well as our Belief. Brevis est institutio vitae honestae, beataeque, si credas. Some impose upon the World that they believe that which they do not; others more in Number, make themselves believe that they believe, not being able to penetrate into what it is to believe. We think it strange, if in the Civil War, which, at this time, disorders our State, we see Events float, and vary after a common and ordinary manner; which is because we bring nothing to it but our own. Justice which is in one Party, is only there for Ornament and Palliation, it is indeed pretended, but 'tis not there received, settled and espoused: It is there, as in the Mouth of an Advocate, not as in the Heart, and Affection of the Party. God owes his extraordinary Assistance to Faith and Religion; but not to our Passions. 
God assists our Faith and Religion, not our Passions.  Men there are the Conductors, and therein serve themselves of Religion, which ought to be quite contrary. Observe if it be not by our own Hands, that we guide and train it, and draw it like Wax into so many contrary Figures, from a Rule in itself so direct and firm. When and where was this manifest, than in France in our days? They who have taken it on the Lefthand, they who have taken it on the Right, they who call it black, they who call it white, a like employ it to their Violent and Ambitious Designs, conduct it with a Progress so conform in Riot and Injustice, that they render the Diversity they pretended in their Opinions, in a thing whereon the Conduct and Rule of our Life depends, doubtful and hard to believe. Can a Man see, even from the same School and Discipline, Manners more united, and more the same? Do but observe with what horrid Impudence we toss Divine Arguments to and fro, 
Proposition, Whether it be Lawful to take Arms against the King in defence of Religion.  and how irreligiously we have both rejected and retaken them, according as Fortune has shifted our Places in these Intestine Storms. This so solemn Proposition, Whether it be Lawful for a Subject to Rebel, and take up Arms against his Prince for the Defence of his Religion; Do you remember, in whose Mouths the last year, the Affirmative of it was the Prop of one Party, and the Negative the Pillar of another? And harken now from what Quarter comes the Vote, and Instruction of both the one, and the other; and if Arms makes less noise, and rattle for this Cause, than for that. We condemn those to the Fire, who say, That Truth must be made to bear the Yoke of our Necessity; and how much more does France, than say it? Let us confess the Truth; whoever should draw out the Army, lawfully raised by the King's Authority, those who take up Arms out of pure Zeal to Religion, and also those who only do it to protect the Laws of their Country, or for the Service of their Prince, could hardly out of both these put together, make one complete Company of Gens-d'armes. Whence does this proceed, that there are so few to be found, who have maintained the same Will, and the same Progress in our Civil Commotions, and that we see them one while move but a Footpace, and another run Full-speed? And the same Men one while endamage our Affairs by their violent Heat and Austerity, and another by their Coldness, Gentleness and Slowness; but that they are pushed on by particular and causal Considerations, according to the Variety whereof they move? I evidently perceive, that we do not willingly afford Devotion any other Offices, but those that best suit with our own Passions. There is no Hostility so admirable, as the Christian. Our Zeal performs Wonders, when it seconds our Inclinations to Hatred, Cruelty, Ambition, Avarice, Detraction and Rebellion: But when it moves against the Hair towards Bounty, Benignity and Temperance, unless, by Miracle, some rare and virtuous Disposition prompt us to it, we stir neither hand nor foot. Our Religion is intended to extirpate Vices: Whereas it skreens, nourishes and incites them. We must not mock God. If we did believe in him, I do not say by Faith, but with a simple belief, that is to say, (and I speak it to our great shame,) if we did believe him, as we do any other History; or as we would do one of our Companions, we should love him above all other things, for the infinite Bounty and Beauty that shines in him: at least he would go equal in our Affections, with Riches, Pleasures, Glory, and our Friends. The best of us is not so much afraid to injure him, as he is afraid to injure his Neighbour, his Kinsman, or his Master. Is there any so weak Understanding, that having on one side the Object of one of our vicious Pleasures, and on the other (in equal knowledge and persuasion) the State of an Immortal Glory, will dispute for the first, against the other? And yet we oftimes renounce this out of pure Contempt: For what lust tempts us to blaspheme, if not, peradventure, the very desire to offend? The Philosopher Antisthenes, as the Priest was initiating him in the Mysteries of Orpheus, telling him that those who professed themselves of that Religion, were certain to receive Perfect and Eternal Felicities after Death; if thou believest that, answered he, Why dost not thou die thyself? Diogenes more rudely, according to his manner, and more remote from our purpose, to the Priest that in like manner preached to him, to become of his Religion, that he might obtain the Happiness of the other World: What, said he, Thou wouldst have me believe that Agesilaus and Epaminondas, who, were so Great Men, shall be miserable, and that thou, who art but a Calf, and canst do nothing to purpose, shalt be happy, because thou art a Priest? Did we receive these great Promises of Eternal Beatitude with the same Reverence and Respect, that we do a Philosophical Lecture, we should not have Death in so great Horror: 

Non jam se moriens dissolvi conquereretur,  

Lucret. 13.  Sed magis ire foras, vestémque relinquere ut anguis  
Gauderet, praelonga senex aut cornua Cervus.   

We should not then dying repine to be  
Dissolved, but rather step out cheerfully  
From our Old Hut, and with the Snake be glad  
To cast the Old uneasy slough we had;  
Or with th' Old Stag, rejoice to be now clear  
From the large Head, too ponderous grown to bear.   I desire to be dissolved we should say, and to be with Jesus Christ. The force of Plato's Arguments, concerning the Immortality of the Soul, sent some of his Disciples to untimely Graves, that they might the sooner enjoy the things he had made them hope for. All which is a most evident sign, that we only receive our Religion after our own fashion, by our own hands, and no otherwise than other Religions are received. Either we are come into the Country where it is in Practice, or we bear a Reverence to the Antiquity of it, or to the Authority of the Men, who, have maintained it, or fear the Menaces it fulminates against Miscreants, or are allured by its Promises. These Considerations ought, 'tis true, to be applied to our Belief, but as Subsidiaries only, for they are Human Obligations. Another Religion, other Witnesses, the like Promises and Threats, might by the same way, imprint a quite contrary Belief. We are Christians by the same Title, that we are Perigordins and Germans. And what Plato says, that there are few Men so obstinate in their Atheism, that a pressing Danger will not reduce to an Acknowledgement of the Divine Power, does not concern a true Christian; 'tis for Mortal and Human Religions to be received by Human Recommendation. What kind of Faith can we expect that should be, that Cowardice and want of Courage does establish in us? A pleasant Faith that does not believe what it believes, but for want of Courage to believe it. Can a vicious Passion, such as Inconstancy and Astonishment cause any regular Product in our Souls? They are confident in their own Judgement, says he, That what is said of Hell, and future Torments, is all feigned: But an Occasion of making the Experiment presenting itself, that Old Age or Diseases bring them to the Brink of the Grave, the Terror of Death by the Horror of that future Condition, inspires them with a new Belief. And by reason that such Impressions render them timorous, he forbids in his Laws all such threatening Doctrines, and all Persuasion, that any thing of ill can befall a Man from the Gods, excepting for his great good, when they happen to him, and for a Medicinal effect. They say of Bion, that infected with the Atheisms of Theodorus, he had long had Religious Men in great scorn and contempt, but that Death surprising him, he gave himself up to the most extreme Superstition; as if the Gods withdrew, and returned according to the Necessities of Bion. Plato, and his Examples, would conclude, 
Bion an Atheist.  that we are brought to a Belief of God, 
What Atheism is.  either by reason, or by force. Atheism being a Proposition, as unnatural and monstruous, so difficult also, and very hard to sink into Human Understanding, how arrogant and irregular soever; there are enough seen, out of Vanity and Pride, to be the Author of extraordinary and reforming Opinions have outwardly affected the Profession, who, if they are such Fools, have nevertheless not had the power to plant them in their own Conscience. Yet will they not fail to lift up their Hands towards Heaven, if you give them a good thrust with a Sword into the Bosom; and when Fear or Sickness has abated and suppressed the licentious Fury of this giddy Humour, they will easily reunite, and very discreetly suffer themselves to be reconciled to the Public Faith and Examples. A Doctrine seriously digested is one thing, and those superficial Impressions another; which springing from the Disorder of an unhinged Understanding, float at random and great uncertainty in the Fancy. Miserable, and senseless Men, who strive to be worse, than they can! The Error of Paganism, and the Ignorance of our Sacred Truth let this great Soul, but great only in Human Greatness, fall yet into this other Mistake, that Children and Old Men were most susceptible of Religion, as if it sprung and derived its Reputation from our Weakness. The Knot that ought to bind the Judgement and the Will, that aught to restrain the Soul, and join it to the Creator, must be a Knot that derives the Foldings and Strength, not from our Considerations, from our Reasons and Passions; but from a Divine and Supernatural Constraint, having but one Form, one Face, and one Lustre, which is the Authority of God, and his Divine Grace. Now the Heart and Soul being governed and commanded by Faith, 'tis but reason that they should muster all their other Faculties, for as much as they are able to perform, to the Service and Assistance of their Design. Neither is it to be imagined, that all this Machine has not some Marks imprinted upon it by the Hand of the mighty Architect, and that there is not in the thing of this World, some Image, that in some measure resembles the Workman, who has built and formed them. 
Divinity imprinted on the outward Fabric of the World.  He has in his stupendious Works, left the Character of his Divinity, and 'tis our own Weakness only, that hinders us, we cannot discern it. 'Tis what he himself is pleased to tell us, that he manifests his invisible Operations to us, by those that are visible. Sebonde applied himself to this laudable and noble Study, and demonstrates to us, that there is not any part or member of the World, that disclaims or derogates from its Maker. It were to do a Wrong to the Divine Bounty, did not the Universe consent to our Belief; The Heavens, the Earth, the Elements, our Bodies and our Souls; all these concur to this, if we can but find out the way to use them. For this World is a Sacred Temple, into which, Man is introduced, 
The World a Sacred Temple.  there to contemplate Statues, not the Works of a Mortal Hand, but such as the Divine Purpose has made the Objects of Sense, the Sun, the Stars, the Waters and the Earth, to represent those that are intelligible to us. The invisible things of God, says St. Paul, appear by the Creation of the World, his Eternal Wisdom and Divinity being considered by his Works. 


Manil. l. 4  Atque adeo faciem caeli mon invidet orbi  
Ipse Deus, vultusque suus corpusque recludit  
Sempér volvendo: Séque ipsum inculcat & offered,  
Vt benè cognosci possit doceátque videndo  
Qualis eat, doceatque suas attendere leges.   

And God himself envies not Men the Grace  
Of seeing, and admiring Heaven's Face:  
But rolling it about, does still anew  
Object its Face and Body to our view,  
And int' our Minds himself inculcates so,  
That we may well the mighty Mover know,  
Instructing us by seeing him the cause  
Of all, to reverence, and obey his Laws.   Now our Prayers, and Humane Discourses are but as Sterile and undigested Matter: The Grace of God is the Form: 'Tis that, which gives fashion and value to it. As the virtuous Actions of Socrates and Cato remain vain and fruitless, for not having had the Love and Obedience of the true Creator of all things for their End and Object, and for not having known God. So is it with our Imaginations and Discourses, they have a kind of Body, but it is an inform Mass, without Fashion, and without Light, if Faith and Grace be not added to it. Faith coming to tinct and illustrate Sebonde's Arguments renders them firm and solid, and to that degree, that that they are capable of serving for Directions, and of being the first Guides to an Elementary Christian to put him into the way of this Knowledge: They in some measure form him to, and render him capable of, the Grace of God, by which means he afterward completes and perfects himself in the true Belief. I know a Man of Authority, bred up to Letters, who, has confessed to me, to have been reduced from the Errors of Miscreancy by Sebonde's Arguments. And should they be stripped of this Ornament, and of the Assistance and Approbation of the Holy Faith, and be looked upon as mere Humane Fancies only, to contend with those who are precipitated into the dreadful and horrible Darkness of Irreligion, they will even there find them as solid and firm, as any others of the same Quality, than can be opposed against them; so that we shall be ready to say to our Opponents, 

Si melius quid habes, accerse, vel imperium fer.   

If you have Arguments more fit,  
Produce them, or to these submit.   Let them admit the force of our Reasons; or let them show us others, and upon some other Subject better woven, and a finer Thread. I am unawares half engaged in the second Objection, to which I proposed to make answer in the behalf of Sebonde. Some say, that his Arguguments are weak, and unable to make good what he intends, and undertake with great ease to confute them. These are to be a little more roughly handled; for they are more dangerous and malicious, than the first. Men willingly wrest the sayings of others to favour their own prejudicated Opinions; to an Atheist all Writings tend to Atheism, he corrupts the most Innocent Matter with his own Venom; these have their Judgements so prepossessed, that they cannot relish Sebonde's Reasons. As to the rest, they think we make them very fair play, in putting them into the Liberty of our Religion with Weapons merely Human, which in her Majesty full of Authority and Command, they durst not attack. The means that I shall use, and that I think most proper to subdue this Frenzy, is to crush and spurn under foot Pride, and Human Fierceness; to make them sensible of the Inanity, Vanity and Vileness of Man: To wrest the wretched Arms of their Reason out of their Hands, to make them bow down, and bite the Ground under the Authority and Reverence of the Divine Majesty. 'Tis to that alone, that Knowledge and Wisdom appertain, that alone, that can make a true Estimate of itself, 
Wisdom only belongs to the Divinity.  and from which we purloin whatever we value ourselves, 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
Heroicum Adagium.    

God not permits, that any one would be  
More wise than he.   Let us subdue this Presumption; The first Foundation of this Tyranny of the Evil Spirit. Deus superbis resistit: Humilibus autem dat gratiam. God resists the Proud; but gives Grace to the Humble. Understanding is in all the Gods, (says Plato) and not at all, or very little, in Men. 
1 Pet. 55.  Now it is in the mean time a great Consolation to a Christian Man, to see our Frail and Mortals Parts so fitly suited to our Holy and Divine Faith, that when we employ them to the Subjects of their own Mortal and Frail Nature, they are not even there more equally, or more firmly, adjusted. Let us see then, if Man hath in his power other more forcible and convincing Reasons, than those of Sebonde; That is to say, if it be in him to arrive at any certainty by Arguments and Reasons. For St. Augustin, disputing against the people, has good cause to reproach them with Injustice, in that they maintain the part of our Belief to be false, that our Reason cannot establish. And to show that a great many things may be, and may have been, of which our Nature could not sound the Reason and Causes, he proposes to them certain known and undoubted Experiments, wherein Men confess they see nothing, and this he does, as all other things, with a curious and ingenious Inquisition. We must do more than this, and make them know, that to convince the weakness of their Reason, there is no necessity of culling out rare Examples: And that it is so defective, and so blind that there is no so clear Facility clear enough for it, that to it the easy and the hard is all alone; that all Subjects equally, and Nature in general, disclaims its Authority, and rejects its Mediation. What does Truth mean, when she preaches to us to fly worldly Philosophy, when she so often inculcates to us, 
The Wisdom of the World, folly with God.  That our Wisdom is but Folly in the sight of God. That the vainest of all Vanities is Man: That the Man who presumes upon his Wisdom, does not yet know what Wisdom is; and that Man, who is nothing, if he think himself to be any thing, does seduce and deceive himself? These Sentences of the Holy Ghost do so clearly and lively express that which I would maintain, that I should need no other proof against Men, who would with all Humility and Obedience submit to his Authority: But these will be whipped at their own Expense, and will not suffer that a Man oppose their Reason, but by itself. Let us then for once consider a Man alone, without foreign Assistance, armed only with his own proper Arms, and unfurnished of the Divine Grace and Wisdom, which is all his Honour, Strength, and the Foundation of his Being. Let us see what certainty he has, in this fine Equipage. Let him make me understand by the force of his Reason, upon what Foundations he has built those great Advantages, he thinks he has over other Creatures: Who has made him believe, that this admirable Motion of the Celestial Arch, the Eternal Light of those Tapers that roll over his Head, the wonderful Motions of that infinite Ocean, should be established, and continue so many Ages, for his Service and Convenience? Can any thing be imagined so ridiculous, that this miserable and wretched Creature, who is not so much as Master of himself, but subject to the Injuries of all things, should call himself Master and Emperor of the World, of which, he has not power to know the least part, much less to command the whole. And this Privilege which he attributes to himself, of being the only Creature in this vast Fabric, that has the Understanding to discover the Beauty, and the Parts of it; the only one who can return thanks to the Architect, and keep account of the Revenues and Disbursements of the World; Who, I wonder, sealed him this Patent? Let us see his Commission for this great Employment. Was it granted in favour of the Wise only? Few people will be concerned in it. Are Fools and Wicked persons worthy so extraordinary a Favour? And being the worst part of the World, to be preferred before the rest? Shall we believe Cicero! Quorum igitur causa quis dixerit effectum esse mundum? 
Cicer. de Nat. Deo lib. 2.  Eorum cilicet animantium, quae ratione utuntur. Hi sunt Dii & Homines, quibus profectò nihil est melius. For whose sake shall we therefore conclude, that the World was made? For theirs who have the use of Reason: These are Gods and Men, than whom certainly nothing can be better. We can never sufficiently decry the Impudence of this Conjunction. But wretched Creature, what has he in himself worthy of such an Advantage? To consider the incorruptible Existency of the Celestial Bodies, their Beauty, Magnitude, and continual Revolution by so exact a Rule: 


Lucret. l. 5.  Cum suspicimus magna Caelestia mundi  
Templa super, stellisque micantibus Aethera fixum,  
Et venit in mentem Lunae, Solisque viarum:   

When we above the Heavn'ly Arch behold,  
And the vast Roof studded with Stars of Gold,  
And call to mind the Courses, that the Sun  
And Moon in their alternate Office run:   To consider the Dominion and Influence those Bodies have, not only over our Lives and Fortunes; 

Facta etenim, 
Manil. l. 3.  & vitas hominum suspendit ab astris.   

Men's Lives and Actions on the Stars depend.   But even over our Inclinations, our Thoughts and Wills, which they govern, incite, and agitate at the Mercy of their Influences, 

— Speculataque longè  
Deprendit tacitis dominantia legibus astra, 
Id. lib. 1.   
Et totum alterna mundum ratione moveri,  
Fatorùmque vices certis discernere signis.   

Contemplating the Stars, he find thaa they  
Rule by a secret, and a silent sway;  
And that th' enamelled Spheres which rule above,  
Do ever by alternate Causes move.  
And studying these, he also can foresee,  
By certain Signs, the turns of Destiny.   To see that there is not so much as a Man, no, not a King, exempt from this Dominion, but that Monarchies, Empires, and all this lower World, follow the Brawl of these Celestial Motions, 


Id. lib. 4.  Quantaque quam parvi faciant discrimina motus:  
Tantum est hoc regnum, quod Regibus imperat ipsis.   

How great a change each little motion brings;  
So great the Kingdom is, that governs Kings.   If our Virtue, our Vices, our Knowledge, and this very Discourse we are upon, of the power of the Stars, and the Comparison we are making betwixt them and us, proceed, as our Reason supposes, from their Favour: 


Id. ibid. — Furit alter amore,  
Et pontum tranare potest & vertere Trojam,  
Alterius sors est scribendis legibus apta:  
Ecce patrem nati perimunt, natósque parents,  
Mutuáque armati coeunt in vulnera fratres,  
Non nostrum hoc bellum est, coguntur tanta movere,  
Inque suas ferri paenas, lacerandàque membra.   

One Mad in Love may cross the Raging Seas,  
T'oreturn proud Ilium's lofty Palaces;  
Another's Fate inclines him more by far,  
To spend his time at the litigious Bar.  
Sons kill their Fathers, Father kill their Sons,  
And one armed Brother against another runs.  
This War's not theirs, but Fates that spurs them on,  
To shed the Blood, which shed, they must bemoan.   If we derive this little Portion of Reason we have from the Bounty of Heaven, how is it possible that Reason should ever make us equal to it? How subject its Essence and Conditions to our Knowledge? Whatever we see in that Body does astonish us; quae molitio, quae ferramenta, 
Cic. de Nat. Deo. l. 1.  qui vectes, quae machinae, qui ministri tanti operis fuerunt? What Contrivance, what Tools, what Timber, what Engines were employed about so stupendious a Work? Why do we deprive it of Soul, of Life and Discourse? Have we discovered in it any immote or insensible Stupidity, we who have no Commerce with the Heavens, but by Obedience? Shall we say that we have discovered in no other Creature, but Man, the use of a reasonable Soul? What, have we seen any thing like the Sun? Does he cease to be, because we have seen nothing like him? And do his Motions cease, because there are no other like them? If what we have not seen, is not, our Knowledge is wonderfully contracted. Quae sunt tantae animi angustiae? How narrow are our Understandings? Are they not Dreams of Human Vanity, to make the Moon a Celestial Earth? There to fancy Mountains and Vales, as Anaxagoras did? There to fix Habitations and Human Abodes, and plant Colonies for our convenience, as Plato and Plutarch have done? Of our Earth to make a beautiful and resplendent Star? 
Sen de ira: lib. 2. cap. 9  Inter caetera mortalitatis incommoda, & hoc est, caligo mentium: Nec tantùm necessitas errandi, sed errorum amor. Corruptibile corpus aggravat animam, & deprimit terrena inhabitatio sensum multa cogitantem. Amongst the other inconveniencies of Mortality, this is one, to have the Understanding clouded, and not only a Necessity of Erring, but a Love of Error. The corruptible Body stupifies the Soul, and the Earthly Habition dulls the Faculties of the imagination. Presumption is our Natural and Original Disease. The most wretched and frail of all Creatures, is Man, and withal the Proudest. He feels, and sees himself lodged here in the dirt and filth of the World, nailed and riveted to the worst and deadest part of the Universe, in the lowest Story of the House, and most remote from the Heavenly Arch, with Animals of the worst condition of three; and yet in his Imagination will be placing himself above the Circle of the Moon, and bringing the Earth under his Feet. 'Tis by the same vanity of Imagination, that he equals himself to God, attributes to himself Divine Qualities, withdraws and separates himself from the Crowd of other Creatures, cuts out the shares of Animals his Fellows and Companions, and distributes to them Portions of Faculties and Force, as himself thinks fit. How does he know by the Strength of his Understanding, the Secret and internal Motions of Animals? And from what Comparison betwixt them and us, does he conclude the Stupidity he attributes to them? When I play with my Cat, who knows whether I do not make her more sport, than she makes me? We mutually divert one another with our Play. If I have my hour to begin, or to refuse, she also has hers. Plato, in his Picture of the Golden Age under Saturn, reckons, amongst the chief Advantages, that a Man then had, his communication with Beasts, of whom enquiring and informing himself, he knew the true Qualities and Differences of them all, by which he acquired a very perfect Intelligence and Prudence, and led his Life more happily, than we could do. Need we a better Proof to condemn a Human Impudence in the concern of Beasts? This great Author was of Opinion, that Nature, for the most part, in the Corporal Form she gave them, had only regard to the Usance of Prognostics, that were in his time thence derived. The defect that hinders Communication betwixt them and us, why may it not be on our part, as well as theirs? 'Tis yet to determine, where the Fault lies, that we understand not one another; for we understand them no more, than they do us, and by the same reason may think us to be Beasts, as we think them. 'Tis no great wonder if we understand not them, when we do not understand a Basque. And yet some have boasted, that they understood them, as Apollonius Thyaneus, Melampus, Tiresias, Thales, and others. And seeing it is so, as Cosmographers report, that there are Nations that receive a Dog for their King, they must of necessity be able to interpret his Voice and Motions. We must observe the Parity betwixt us: We have some competent Apprehensions of their Sense, and so have Beasts of ours, and much by the same reason: The caress us, threaten us, and beg of us, and we do the same to them. As to the rest, we manifestly discover, that they have a full and absolute Communication amongst themselves, 
Communication of Beasts amongst themselves  and that they perfectly understand one another, not only those of the same, but of divers kinds. 


Lucret. l. 5.  Et mutae pecudes, & denique septa ferarum  
Dissimiles fuerunt voces, variàsque cluere  
cum metus, aut dolor est, aut cum jam gaudia gliscunt.   

The tamer Herds, and wilder sorts of Brutes,  
Though we, and rightly too, conclude them Mutes,  
Yet utter dissonant and various Notes,  
From gentler Lungs, or more distended Throats,  
As Fear, or Grief, or Anger do them move,  
Or as they more approach the Joys of Love.   In one kind of barking of a Dog, the Horse knows he is angry; of another sort of Bark, he is not afraid. Even in the very Beasts, that have no Voice at all, we easily conclude from the Society of Offices, we observe amongst them, some other sort of Communication; their very Motions discover it, 


Ibid.  Non alia longè ratione, atque ipsa videtur  
Protrahere ad gestum pueros infantia linguae.   

As we may see in Tongue-tied Infancy,  
Children by Signs, their want of Speech supply.   And why not as well, as our Mutes dispute, contest, and tell Stories by Signs? Of which I have seen some by practice, so subtle and active that way, that in earnest, they wanted nothing of the perfection of making themselves understood. Lovers are angry, reconciled, entreat, thank, appoint, and finally speak all things, by their Eyes. 

E'l silentio anchor suole  
Haver prieghi, & parole. 
Aminta del Tasso.    

Even silence in a Lover,  
Love and Courtship can discover.   What, with the Hands? We require, promise, call, dismiss, threaten, pray, supplicate, deny, refuse, interrogate, admire, number, confess, repent, fear, confound, doubt, instruct, command, incite, encourage, swear, testify, accuse, condemn, absolve, injure, despise, defy, despite, flatter, applaud, bless, submit, mock, reconcile, recommend, exalt, entertain, congratulate, complain, grieve, despair, wonder, exclaim, and what not? And all this with a Variation and Multiplication, even to the Emulation of Speech. With the Head we invite, remand, confess, deny, give the lie, welcome, honour, reverence, disdain, demand, rejoice, lament, reject, caress, rebuke, submit, huff, encourage, threaten, assure and inquire. What, with the Eyebrows? What, with the Shoulders? There is not a Motion that does not speak, and in an Intelligible Language without Discipline, and a Public Language that every one understands: From whence it should follow, the Variety and Usage distinguished from others, considered; that these should rather be judged the Propriety of Human Nature. I omit what necessity particularly does suddenly suggest to those who are in need; the Alphabets upon the Fingers, Grammars in gesture, and the Sciences which are only by them exercised and expressed with the Nations that Pliny reports, have no other Language. An Ambassador of the City of Abdera, after a long Conference with Agis, King of Sparta, demanded of him, Well, Sir, What Answer must I return to my Fellow-Citizens? That I have given thee leave, (said he) to say what thou wouldst, and as much as thou wouldst, without ever speaking a word. Is not this a silent speaking, and very easy to be understood? As to the rest, what is there in us, that we do not see in the Operations of Animals? Is there a Polity better ordered, the Offices better distributed, and more inviolably observed and maintained, than that of Bees? Can we imagine that such, and so regular a Distribution of Employments, can be carried on without Consisideration and Prudence? 

His quidam signis, atque haec exempla secuti,  
Esse apibus partem divinae mentis, & haustus  
Aethereos dixere.   

Having contemplated the Working Bees,  
Their Civil Regiment, and Polices,  
Some have not stuck presently to conclude,  
That they in part with reason are endued.   The Swallows that we see at the return of the Spring, searching all the Corners of our Houses for the most commodious places wherein to build their Nest, do they seek without judgement, and amongst a thousand, choose out the most proper for their purpose, without discretion? In that elegant and admirable Contexture of their Building, can Birds rather make choice of a square Figure than a round, of an obtuse, than of a right Angle without knowing their Properties and Effects? Do they bring Water, and than Clay, without knowing that the hardness of the later grows softer by being wet? Do they matt their Palace with Moss or Down, without foreseeing, that their tender Young will lie more safe and easy? Do they secure themselves from the Wet and rainy Winds, and place their Lodgings towards the East, without knowing the different Qualities of those Winds, and considering, that one is more comfortable than the other? Why does the Spider make her Web straighter in one place, and slacker in another? Why now make one sort of Knot, and then another, if she has not Deliberation, Thought and Conclusion? We sufficiently discover in most of their Works, how much Animals excel us, and how unable our Art is to imitate them. We see nevertheless in our more gross Performances, that we employ all our Faculties, and apply the utmost power of our Souls; why do we not conclude the same of them? Why should we attribute to I know not what Natural and Servile Inclination, the Works that excel all we can do by Nature and Art? Wherein, before we are aware, we give them a mighty Advantage over us, in making Nature, with a maternal Sweetness, to accompany and lead them, as it were, by the hand, to all the Actions and Commodities of their Life, whilst she leaves us to Chance and Fortune, 
Nature above Art.  and to seek out, by Art, the things that are necessary to our Conservation, at the same time denying us the means of being able, by any Instruction or Contention of Understanding, to arrive at the Natural sufficiency of Beasts; so that their brutish Stupidity surpasses, in all Conveniencies, all that our Divine Intelligence can do. Really, at this rate, we might with great reason call her an unjust Stepmother: But it is nothing so, our Polity is not so irregular and deformed. Nature has been generally kind to all her Creatures, and there is not one, she has not amply furnished with all means necessary for the Conservation of his Being. For the common Complaints that I hear Men make (as the Liberty of their Opinions do one while lift them up to the Clouds, and then again depress them to the Antipodes) that we are the only Animal abandoned, naked upon the bare Earth, tied and bound, not having wherewithal to arm and clothe us, but by the spoil of others; whereas Nature has covered all other Creatures, either with Shells, Husks, Bark, Hair, Wool, Prickles, Leather, Downe, Feathers, Scales and Silk, according to the Necessities of their Being; has armed them with Talons, Teeth and Horns, wherewith to assault and defend, and has herself taught them, that which is most proper for them, to swim, to run, to fly and to sing, whereas Man neither knows how to walk, speak, eat, or do any thing but weep, without teaching. 

Tum porro puer ut saevis projectus ab undis, 
Lucret. l. 5.   
Navita, nudus humi jacet infans, indigus omni  
Vitali auxilio, cum primùm in luminis oras  
Nexibus ex alvo matris natura profudit,  
Vagitùque locum lugubri complete, aequum est  
Cui tantùm in vita restet transire malorum:  
At variae crescunt pecudes, armenta, feraeque,  
Nec crepitacula eis opus est, nec cuiquam adhibenda est  
Almae nutricis blanda atque infracta loquela:  
Nec varias quaerunt vestes pro tempore caeli:  
Denique non armis opus est, non maenibus altis  
Queis sua tutentur, quando omnibus omnia largè  
Tellus ipsa parit, naturaque daedala rerum.   

Like to the wretched Mariner, when tossed  
By Raging Seas, upon the desert Coast,  
The tender Babe lies naked on the Earth,  
Of all supports of Life, stripped by his Birth.  
When Nature first presents him to the day,  
Freed from the Womb where he imprisoned lay,  
He fills the ambient Air with doleful Cries,  
Foretelling so Life's future Miseries;  
But Beasts, both mild and tame, greater and less.  
Do of themselves in height and bulk increase:  
They need no Rattle, nor the broken Chat,  
By which the Nurse first teaches Boys to prate,  
They not look out for different Robes to wear,  
According to the Seasons of the Year;  
And need no Arms nor Walls their Goods to save,  
Since Earth and Liberal Nature ever have,  
And will, in all abundance still produce,  
All things whereof they can have need or use.   Those Complaints are false; 
The Skin of a Man sufficient proof against Wether.  there is in the Polity of the World a greater Equity, and more uniform Relation. Our Skins are as sufficient to defend us from the Injuries of the Wether, as theirs are them; Witness several Nations, that yet know not the use of clothes. Our Ancient Gauls were but slenderly clad, no more than the Irish, our Neighbours, in so cold a Climate: But we may better judge of this by ourselves: For all those parts, that we are pleased to expose to the Air, are found very able to endure it: If there be a tender part about us, and that seems to be in danger of cold, it should be the Stomach, where the Digestion is, and yet our Forefathers wore them always open, and our Ladies as tender and delicate as they are, 
The Ancients used to wear their Bosom open. The swathing of Infants not necessary.  go sometimes bare as low as the Navel. Neither is the binding and swathing of Infants more necessary; and the Lacedaemonian Mothers brought up theirs in all Liberty of Motion of Members, without any Ligature at all. Our Crying is common with the greatest part of other Animals, and there are but few Creatures, that are not observed to groan, and bemoan themselves a long time after they come into the World; forasmuch as it is a Behaviour suitable to the weakness wherein they find themselves. As to the usage of Eating, it is in us, as in them, Natural, and without Instruction. 

Sentit enim vim quisque suam quam possit abuti. 
Ibid.    

For every one soon finds his Natural Force,  
Which he, or better may employ; or worse.   Who doubts but an Infant, arrived to the strength of feeding himself, may make shift to get his Living? And the Earth produces and offers him wherewithal to supply his Necessity without other Culture and Artifice, and if not at all times; no more does she do it to Beasts, witness the Provision, we see Ants, and other Creatures, hoard up against the dead Seasons of the Year. The late discovered Nations, so abundantly furnished with Meat, and Natural Drink without Care, or without Cookery, may give us to understand, that Bread is not our only Food, and that without Tillage, our Mother Nature has provided us sufficiently of all we stand in need of; nay, it appears more fully and plentifully, than she does at present, that we have added our own Industry: 


Lucret. l. 2.  Et tellus nitidas fruges, vinetaque laeta  
Sponte sua primum mortalibus ipsa creavit,  
Ipsa dedit dulces faetus, & pabula laeta,  
Quae nunc vix nostro gradescunt aucta labour,  
Conterimusque boves, & vires agricolarum.   

The Earth spontaneously did first afford  
Choice Fruits and Wines to furnish out the Board:  
She pretty Offsprings gave, and verdant Fields,  
Which scarce, by Art, a better Harvest yield;  
Though Men and Oxen mutually have striven,  
With all their utmost Force, the Soil to t'improve.   The Debauchery and Irregularity of our Appetite, outstrip all the Inventions we can contrive to satisfy it. As to Arms, we have more that are Natural, 
The Natural Arms of Men.  than the most part of other Animals, more various Motions of Members, and naturally, and without Lesson; and extract more Service from them: Those that are trained up to fight naked, are seen to throw themselves into the like hazards, that we do. If some Beasts surpass us in this Advantage, we surpass several others; and the Industry of fortifying the Body, and covering it by acquired means, we have by instinct and natural Precept. That it is so, the Elephant sharpens and whets the Teeth he makes use of in War, 
The Elephant's Teeth.  (for he has particular ones for that Service, which he spares, and never employs them at all to any other use) when Bulls go to fight, they toss and throw the Dust about them: Boars whet their Tusks, and the Ichneumon, when he is to engage with the Crocodile, fortifies his Body, covers and crusts it all over with a certain close wrought and well-tempered Slime, as with a Cuirass; Why shall we not say, That it is also Natural for us to arm ourselves with Wood and Iron? As to Speech, it is certain, that if it be not natural, it is not necessary. Nevertheless I believe, that a Child, which had been brought up in an absolute Solitude, remote from all Society of Men (which would be a trial very hard to make) would have some kind of Speech to express his Meaning: And 'tis not to be supposed, that Nature should have denied that to us, which she has given to several other Animals: For, what is this Faculty, we observe in them of complaining, rejoicing, calling to one another for Succour, and the softer Murmurings of Love, which they perform with the Voice, other, than Speech? And why should they not speak to one another? They speak to us, and we to them. In how many several Tones do we speak to our Dogs, and they answer us? We converse with them, in another sort of Language, and other Appellations, than we do with Birds, Hogs, Oxen and Horses; and alter the Idiom according to the kind. 

Cosi per entro loro schiera bruna  
S'ammusa l'una con l'altra formica,  
Forse à piar lor via, & lor fortuna.   

Of provident Ants thus do the sable Bands  
Against one another head, to head make stands,  
T'observe each others ways perhaps, and some  
Perhaps to spy what Prizes are brought home.   Lactantius seems to attribute to Beasts, 
Refibility attributed to Beasts.  not only Speech, but Risibility also. And the difference of Language, which is manifest amongst us, according to the variety of Countries, is also observed in Animals of the same kind. Aristotle, in proof of this, instances the various Calls of Partridges, according to the Situations of Places: 


Lucret. l. 5. — Variaeque Volucres  
Longè alias alio jaciunt in tempore voces,  
Et partim mutant cum tempestatibus unà  
Raucisonos cantus.   

And several Birds do from their warbling Throats,  
At several times utter quite different Notes,  
And some their hoarse Songs with the Seasons Change.   But it is yet to be known what Language this Child would speak; and of that what is said by guess, has no great appearance. 
Why Men naturally deaf, speak not.  If a Man will allege to me in Opposition to this Opinion, that those who are naturally deaf, speak not: I answer, That that follows not only because they could not receive the Instruction of speaking by Ear; but rather because the Sense of Hearing, of which, they are deprived, relates to that of Speaking, and hold together by a natural and inseparable Tie; in such manner, that what we speak, we must first speak to ourselves within, and make it first sound in our own Ears, before we can utter it to others. All this I have said to prove the resemblance there is in Human things; and to bring us back, and join us to the Crowd. We are, neither above, nor below the rest. All that is under Heaven (says the Wise Man) runs one Law, and one Fortune. 

Indupedita suis fatalibus omnia vinclis.   

— All things remain, 
Ibid.   
Kept short, and bound in the same fatal Chain.   There is, indeed, some difference, there are several Orders and Degrees; but it is under the Aspect of one same Nature: 

— res quaeque suo ritu procedit, 
Ibid.  & omnes  
Faedere Naturae certo discrimina servant.   

All things by their own rites proceed and draw  
Towards their ends by Nature's certain Law.   Man must be compelled, and restrained within the Bounds of this Polity. Miserable Creature, he is not in a condition really to step over the Rayl●▪ ●he is fettered, and circumscribed, he is subjected to the same Necessity the other Creatures of his Rank and Order are; and of a very mean Condition, without any Prerogative, or true and real Pre-eminence. That which he attributes to himself by vain Fancy and Opinion, has neither Body, nor Taste: And if it be so, that he only of all the Animals, hath this Privilege of Imagination, and irregularity of Thoughts representing to him that which is, that which is not, and that he would have, the False, and the True; 'tis an Advantage dearly bought, and of which he has very little reason to be Proud: Seeing that from thence springs the principal and original Fountain of all the Evils that befall him, Sin, Sickness, Irresolution, Affliction, and Despair. I say then (to return to my Subject) that there is no appearance to induce a Man to believe, that Beasts should by a natural, and forced Inclination, do the same things that we by our Choice, and Industry do. We ought from like Effects to conclude like Faculties, and from greater Effects greater Faculties: and consequently confess, that the same Meditation, and the very same Ways by which we operate, are common with them, or that they have others that are better. Why should we imagine this natural Constraint in them, who experiment no such effect in ourselves? Considering that it is more honourable to be guided, and obliged to act regularly by a natural, and irresistible Disposition, and nearer allied to the Divinity, than to act regularly by a temerarious, and fortuitous Liberty; and more safe to entrust the Reins of our Conduct in the Hands of Nature, than our own. The vanity of our Presumption is the Cause, that we had rather own our Sufficiency to our own Industry, than to her Bounty, and that we every the other Animals with natural Goods, and abjure them in their Favour, to honour, and ennoble ourselves with Goods acquired, very foolishly in my Opinion; so I should as much value Parts and Virtues naturally, and purely my own, as those I had begged, and obtained from Education. It is not in our Power to obtain a nobler Reputation, than to be favoured of God, and Nature. For this Reason, should we see the Fox, the People of Thrace make use of, when they will attempt to pass over the Ice of some frozen River, and turn him out before them to that purpose, lay his Ear upon the Banks of the River, down to the Ice, to listen if from a more remote, or nearer Distance, he can hear the noise of the Water's Current, and according as he finds by that, the Ice to be of a less or greater thickness to retire, or advance; had we not a reason to believe from thence, that he had some thoughts, that we should have upon the like Occasion, and that it is a Ratiocination, and Consequence drawn from natural Sense; that that which makes a noise, runs, that which runs is not frozen, what is not frozen is liquid and that which is liquid, yields to Impression? For to attribute this to a vivacity of the Sense of Hearing without Meditation, and Consequence is a Chimaera that cannot enter into the Imagination. We are to suppose the same of so many sorts of Subtleties, and Inventions, with which Beasts secure themselves from, and frustrate the Erterprises we complot against them. And if we will make an Advantage even of this, that it is in our power to seize them, to employ them in our Service, and to use them at our Pleasure, 'tis but still the same Advantage we have over one another. We have our Slaves upon these terms, and the Climacidaes, were they not Women in Syria, which being on all four, served for a Ladder, and half Pace, by which the Ladies mounted the Coach? And the greatest part of free Persons, surrender for very trivial Conveniences their Life, and Being, into the Power of another. The Wives, and Concubines of the Thracians contend who shall be chosen to be slain upon their Husbands Tomb. Have Tyrants ever failed of finding men enough vowed to their Devotion: Some of them moreover adding this necessity of accompanying them in Death, as well as Life? Whole Armies have obliged themselves after this manner to their Captains. The form of the Oath in the rude School of Fencers who were to fight it out to the last, was in these Words: We swear to suffer ourselves▪ to be chained, burnt, hurt, and killed with the Sword, and to endure all that true Gladiators suffer from their Master; religiously engaging both Bodies, and Souls in his Service: 

Vre meum si vis flamma caput, & pete ferro  
Corpus, & inorto verbere terga seca. 
Tib. l. 1. Eleg. 10.    

Wound me with Steel, burn off my Head with Fire,  
Or scourge my Shoulders with well-twisted Wire.   This was an Obligation indeed, 
Obsequies of the Scythian Kings.  and yet there were some Years, ten thousand who entered into it, and lost themselves in it. When the Scythians interred their King, they strangled upon his Body, the most beloved of his Concubines, his Cupbearer, the master of his Horse, his Chamberlain, the Usher of his Chamber, and his Cook. And upon his Anniversary they killed fifty Horses mounted by fifty Pages, that they had empailed all up the spin of the Back to the Throat, and there left them sixth in Triumph about his Tomb. The men that serve us, do it better cheap, and for a less curious and favourable Usage than that we entertain our Hawks, Horses, and Dogs withal. To what Solicitude do we not submit for their Convenience? I do not think, that Servant of the most abject Condition would willingly do that for their Masters, that Princes think it an Honour to do for these Beasts. Diogenes seeing his Relations solicitous to redeem him from Servitude: They are Fools, said he, 'tis that which treats, and nourishes, and that serves me; and they who make so much of Beasts, ought rather to be said to serve them, than to be served by them. And withal, they have this of more generous, that one Lion never submitted to another Lion; nor one Horse to another, for want of Courage. As we go to the Chase of Beasts, so do Tigers, and Lions to the Chase of Men; and do the same Execution upon one another, Dogs upon Hares, Pikes upon Tenches, Swallows upon Flies, and Sparhawk's upon Blackbirds, and Larks: 


Juvenal. Sat. 14. — Serpent ciconia pullos  
Nutrit, & inventa per devia rura lacerta,  
Et leporem, aut capream famulae Jovis, & generosae  
In saltu venantur aves.   

The Stork her young ones nourishes with Snakes,  
And Lizards found in Meadows, and in Lakes.  
Jove's Eagle trusses Hares, and Birds of Prey,  
Hawk in the Woods.   We divide the Quarry, as well as the Pains, and Labour of the Chase with our Hawks, and Hounds. And above Amphipolis in Thrace, the Hawkers, and wild Falcons equally divide the Prey in the middle: As also along the Lake Maeotis, if the Fishermen do not honestly leave the Wolves an equal Share of what he has caught, they presently go, and tear his Nets in pieces. And as we have a way of fishing, that is carried on more by Subtlety, than Force, namely angling with Lines, and Hooks, there is also the like amongst other Animals. Aristotle says, that the Cuttlefish casts a Gut-out of his Throat as long, as a Line, which he extends, and draws back at pleasure; and as she perceives some little Fish approach her, she lets it nibble upon the end of this Gut, lying herself concealed in the sand, or mud, and by little and little draws it in, till the little Fish is so near her, that at one spring she may surprise it. As to what concerns strength, there is no Creature in the World exposed to so many Injuries, as Man: We need not a Whale, an Elephant, or a Crocodile, nor any such like Animals, of which one alone is sufficient to defeat a great number of men, to do our business: Lice are sufficient to vacate Sylla's Dictatorship; and the heart, and life of a great, and triumphant Emperor, is the breakfast of a little contemptible Worm. Why should we say, that it is only for man by Knowledge, improved by Art and Meditation, to distinguish the things commodious for his being, and proper for the cure of his Diseases, to know the virtues of Rhubarb, and Polypody: And when we see the Goats of Candie, when wounded with an Arrow, amongst a million of Plants, choose out Dittanie for their cure, and the Tortoise, when she has eaten of a Viper, immediately go to look out for Origanum to puage her, the Dragon to rub, and clear his Eyes with Fennel, the Storks to give themselves Clysters of Sea-Water, the Elephants to draw not only out of their own Bodies, and those of their Companions, but out of the Bodies of their Master too (witness the Elephant of King Porus, whom Alexander defeated) the Dart, and Javelins thrown at them in Battle, and that so dexterously, that we ourselves could not do it with so little pain to the Patient; why do not we say the same, that this is Knowledge, and Prudence? For to allege to their disparagement, that 'tis by the sole instruction, and dictate of Nature, that they know all this, is not to take from them the dignity of Knowledge, and Prudence: But with greater Argument to attribute it to them, than to us; for the honour of so infallible a Mistrses. Chrysippus, tho' in all other things as scornful a Judge of the condition of Animals, as any other Philosopher whatever, considering the motions of a Dog, who coming to a place where three ways met, either to hunt after his Master he has lost, or in pursuit of some Game that flies before him, goes snuffing first in one of the Ways, and then in another, and after having made himself sure of two, without finding the Trace of what he seeks, throws himself into the third without examination; he is forced to confess, that this Consideration is in the Dog, I have followed my Master by the Foot to this place, he must of necessity be gone one of these three ways, he is not gone this way, nor that, he must then infallibly be gone this other: And that assuring himself by this Conclusion, he makes no use of his Nose, in the third way, nor ever lays it to the ground, but suffers himself to be carried on by the force of Reason. This Sally, which is purely Logical, and this manner of stating Propositions divided, and conjoined, and the right enumeration of Parts, is it not every whit as good, that the dog know all this of himself, as to have learned it by rules of Art? And Animals are not incapable however, of being instructed after our method. We teach Blackbirds, Ravens, Pies, and Parrots to speak; and the Facility and Complacency wherewith we see they lend us their Voices, and render both them, and their Breath so supple, and pliant, to be formed, and confined within a certain number of Letters and Syllables, does evince, that they have an Examination of things within, which renders them so docile, and willing to learn. Every body, I believe, is glutted with the several sorts of Tricks, that Tumblers teach their Dogs, the Dances where they do not miss any one cadence of the Sound they hear, the several various motions, and leaps, they make them perform by the command of a Word: But I observe this Effect with the greatest Admiration, which nevertheless is very common, of the Dogs, that lead the Blind, both in the Country, and in Cities: I have taken notice how they stop at certain doors, where they were wont to receive Alms, how they avoided the encounter of Coaches, and Carts, even there where they have had sufficient room to pass; and have seen them by the Trench of a Town, forsake a plain, and even Path, and take a worse, only to Keep their Masters further from the ditch. How could a Man have made this Dog understand, that it was his Office to look to his Master's Safety only, and to despise his own Conveniency to serve him? And how had he the knowledge, that a way was large enough for him, that was not so for a blind Man? Can all this be apprehended without Ratiocination? I must not omit what Plutarch says he saw of a dog at Rome, with the Emperor Vespasian the Father, at the Theatre of Marcellus. This dog served a Player, that played a Farce of several Gestures, and several Persons, and had therein his part. He was amongst other things to counterfeit himself for some time dead, by reason of a certain Drug he must be supposed to have eaten: After he had swallowed a piece of Bread, which must pass for the Drug, he began after a while to tremble, and stagger, as if he was astonished: At last stretching himself out stiff, as if he had been dead, he suffered himself to be drawn, and dragged from place to place, as it was his part to do; and afterward, when he knew it to be time, he began first gently to stir, as if newly awaked out of some profound Sleep, and lifting up his Head, looked about him after such a manner, as astonished all the Spectators. The Oxen that served in the royal Gardens of Susa, to water them, and turn certain great Wheels to draw Water for that purpose, to which Buckets were fastened (such as there are many in Languedoc) being ordered every one to draw a hundred turns a day: They were so accustomed to this Number, that it was impossible by any Force, to make them draw one turn more, but, their Task being performed, they would suddenly stop, and stand still. We are almost Men before we can count a hundred, and have lately discovered Nations that have no knowledge of Numbers at all. There is more Understanding required in the teaching of others, than in being taught. But setting aside what Democritus held, and proved, that most of the Arts we have, were taught us by other Animals: As the Spider, to wove and few, the Swallow to build, the Swan and Nightingale Music, and several Animals by their imitation to make Medicines. Aristotle is of Opinion, that the Nightingales teach their young ones to sing, and spend a great deal of time, and care in it, from whence it happens, that those we bring up in Cages, and have not had time to learn of their Dams, want much of the grace of their singing. We may judge by that, that they improve by Discipline and Study: And even amongst the wild, it is not all one, and every one alike, every one has learned to do better, or worse, according to their Capacity. And so jealous are they of one another, whilst learning, that they contend with Emulation, and so vigorous a Contention, that sometimes the vanquished fall dead upon the place, the Breath rather failing, than the Voice. The younger ruminate pensive, and begin to mutter some broken Notes; the Disciple listens to the Master's Lesson, and gives the best account he is able; they are silent by turns, one may hear Faults corrected, and observe some Reprehensions of the Teacher. I have formerly seen, says Arius, an Elephant having a Cymbal hung at each Leg, 
Elephants wearing Cymbals.  and another fastened to his Trunk, at the sound of which, all the others danced round about him, rising, and falling at certain Cadences, as they were guided by the Instrument, and took a delight in Harmony. In the Spectacles of Rome, there were ordinarily seen Elephants taught to move and dance, 
Elephants taught to dance.  to the sound of the Voice, Dances wherein were several Changes, and Steps, and Cadences very hard to learn. And some have been seen in private, so intent upon their Lesson, as to practise it by themselves, that they might not be chidden, nor beaten by their Masters. But this other Story of the Pie, of which we have Plutarch himself for warrant, it is very strange: She was in a Barber's Shop at Rome, and did Wonders in imitating with her Voice, whatever she heard. It happened one day, that certain Trumpeters stood a good while sounding before the Shop: after that, and all the next day, the Pie was pensive, dumb, and melancholic; 
A Story of a Magpie at Rome.  which every body wondered at, and thought that the noise of the Trumpets, had so stupefied and astonished her, and that her Voice was gone with her Hearing: But they found at last, that it was a profound Meditation, and a Retiring into herself, her Thoughts exercising and preparing her Voice to imitate the Sound of those Trumpets, so that the first Voice she uttered, was perfectly to imitate their Strains, Stops, and Changes; having by this new Lesson quitted, and disdained all she had learned before. I will not omit this other Example of a Dog also, which the same Plutarch says he saw, being on shipboard. 
The Cunning of a Dog, to get the Oil out of a Jar.  This Dog being puzzeled how to get the Oil that was in the bottom of a Cruse, which he could not reach with his Tongue, by reason of the narrow Mouth of the Vessel, went, and fetched Stones, and let them fall into the Jar, till he made the Oil rise so high, that he could reach it. What is this but an effect of a very subtle Capacity? 'Tis said that the Ravens of Barbary do the same, when the Water they would drink is too low. This Action is something akin to what Juba, a King of their Nation, relates of the Elephants; then, when by the Craft of the Hunter, one of them is trapped in certain deep Pits prepared for them, and covered over with Brush, to deceive them, all the rest, in great diligence, bring a great many Stones, 
The Subtlety of Elephants, to disengage one another.  and Logs of Wood to raise the Bottom so, that they may get out. But this Animal, in several other Effects comes so near to human Capacity, that should I particularly relate all that Experience hath delivered to us, I should easily have, what I usually maintain, granted, namely, that there is no more difference betwixt such and such a Man, than betwixt such a Man and such a Beast. The Keeper of an Elephant in a private House of Syria, robbed him every Meal, of the half of his Allowance: One day his Master would himself feed him, and poured the full measure of Barley he had ordered for his Allowance, 
An Elephant discovers the Cheet of his Keeper.  into his Manger; at which, the Elephant casting an angry Look at his Keeper, with his Trunk separated the one half from the other, and thrust it aside, by that declaring the Wrong was done him. And another, having a Keeper that mixed Stones with his Corn, to make up the Measure, came to the Pot where he was boiling Flesh for his own Dinner, and filled it with Ashes. These are particular Effects: But that which all the World has seen, and all the World knows, that in all the Armies of the Levant, one of their greatest Forces consisted in Elephants, with whom they did, without comparison, much greater Execution, than we now do with our Artillery; which is, as it were, in their stead in a day of Battle, (as may easily be supposed by such, as are well read in ancient History.) 


Juvenal. sat. p. — Siquidem Tyrio servire solebant  
Annibali, & nostris ducibus, regique Molosso  
Horum Majores, & dorso far Cohortes,  
Partem aliquam Belli, & euntem in praelia turmam.   

Of these, those of the largest size were wont  
The Carthaginian Hannibal to mount:  
Our Leaders too these mighty Beasts bestrid;  
An Elephant, great King Molossus rid;  
Nay more, upon their Backs they used to bear  
Whole Bands, and Cohorts when they went to War.   They must necessarily very confidently rely upon the Fidelity, and Understanding of these Beasts, when they entrusted them with the Vanguard of a Battle, where the least stop they should have made by reason of the bulk, and heaviness of their Bodies, and the least Fright that should have made them face about upon their own People, had been enough to spoil all. And there are but few Examples where it has happened, that they have fallen foul upon their own Troops, whereas we ourselves, break into our own Battalions, and rout one another. They had the Commission, not of one simple Motion only, but of many several things they were to perform in the Battle: As the Spaniards did to their Dogs in their new Conquest of the Indies, to whom they gave Pay, and allowed them a share in the Spoil; and those Animals showed as much Dexterity, and Judgement in pursuing the Victory, and stopping the Pursuit; in charging and retiring as Occasion required, and in distinguishing their Friends from their Enemies, as they did Ardour and Feirceness. We more admire, and value things that are unusual and strange, than those of ordinary Observation. I had not else so long insisted upon these Examples: For I believe, whoever shall strictly observe what we ordinarily see in those Animals we have amongst us, may there find as wonderful Effects, as those we fetch from remote Countries, and Ages, 'Tis one same Nature, that rolls her Course, and whoever had sufficiently considered the present state of things, might certainly conclude both the future, and the past. I have formerly seen Men brought hither by Sea, from very distant Countries, whose Language being not understood by us, and that moreover their Mien, Countenance, and Habit, were quite differing from ours; which of us did not repute them Savages, and Brutes? Who did not attribute it to Stupidity, and want of common Sense, to see them mute, ignorant of the French Tongue, ignorant of our Salutations, and Cringes, our Port, and Behaviour, from which all human Nature must by all means take its Pattern, and Example. All that seems strange to us, and that we do not understand, we condemn. The same things happen also in the Judgement we make of Beasts: They have several Conditions, like to ours; from those we may by Comparison draw some Conjecture: But those Qualities that are particular to themselves, what know we what to make of them? The Horses, Dogs, Oxen, Sheep, Birds, and most of the Animals that live amongst us, know our Voices, and suffer themselves to be governed by them: So did Crassus his Lamprey, and came when he called it, as also do the Eels that are in the Lake Arethusa; and I have seen several Stews, where the Fishes run to eat at a certain call of those who use to feed them. 

— nomen habent, & ad magistri  

Mart. l. 4. Epig. 30.  Vocem quisque sui venit citatus.   

They every one have their own Names, and all  
Straightway appear at their own Masters Call.   We may judge of that; We may also say, that the Elephants have some participation of Religion, forasmuch as after several Washings, 
Elephants participate of Religion.  and Purifications, they are observed to lift up their Trunks like Arms, and fixing their Eyes towards the rising of the Sun, continue long in Meditation, and Contemplation, at certain Hours of the Day, of their own Motion, without Instruction, or Precept. But because we do not see any such Signs in other Animals, we cannot for that conclude, that they are without Religion; nor make any Judgement of what is concealed from us. As we discern something in this Action, which the Philosopher Cleanthes took notice of, because it something resembles our own. He saw, he says, Ants go from their Ant-hill, carrying the dead Body of an Ant towards another Ant-hill, from whence several other Ants came out to meet them, 
Communication of Ants.  as if to speak, and expostulate with them; where after having been a pretty while together, the last returned, to consult, you may suppose, with their fellow Citizens, and so made two or three Journeys, by reason of the difficulty of Capitulation: In the Conclusion, the last comers brought the first a Worm out of their Burrow, as it were for the Ransom of the Defunct, which the first laid upon their Backs, and carried home, leaving the dead Body to the others. This was the Interpretation that Cleanthes gave of this Transaction, giving us by that to understand, that those Creatures that have no Voice, are not, nevertheless, without Practice, and mutual Communication, whereof 'tis through our own Defect, that we do not participate; and for that reason, foolishly take upon us to pass our Censure. But they yet produce other Effects, far beyond our Capacity, to which we are so far from being able to arrive by imitation, that we cannot so much, as by imitation conceive it. Many are of Opinion, that in the great, and last naval Engagement, that Anthony lost to Augustus, his admiral Galley was stayed in the middle of her Course, by the little Fish the Latins call Remora, by reason of the Property she has of staying all sorts of Vessels, to which she fastens herself. And the Emperor Caligula, sailing with a great Navy upon the Coast of Romania, his Galley only was suddenly stayed by the same Fish; which he caused to be taken, fastened as it was to the Keel of his Ship, very angry that such a little Animal could resist both the Sea, the Wind, and the force of all his Oars, by being only fastened by the Beak to this Galley, (for it is a Shellfish and was moreover, not without great Reason, astonished, that being brought to him in the Longboat, it had no more the Strength it had without. A Citizen of Zycicus, formerly acquired the Reputation of a good Mathematician, for having learned the Condition of the Hedgehog. He has his Burrow open in divers verse places, and to several Winds, and foreseeing the Wind that is to come, stops the Hole on that side, which the Citizen observing, gave the City certain Predictions of the Wind, which was presently to blow. 
Change of colour in the Chameleon and Polypus.  The Chameleon takes her Colour from the Place upon which it is laid; but the Polypus, gives himself what Colour he pleases, according to Occasion, either to conceal himself from what he fears, or from that he has a design to seize: In the Chameleon 'tis a passive, but in the Polypus 'tis an active Change. We have some Changes of Colour, as in Fear, Anger, Shame, and other Passions, that alter our Complexions; but it is by the effect of Suffering, as with the Chameleon. It is in the Power of the Jaundice indeed, to make us turn Yellow, but 'tis not in the Power of our own Will. Now these Effects that we discover in other Animals, much greater than ours, seem to imply some more excellent Faculty in them, unknown to us; as 'tis to be presumed several other Qualities, and Abilities of theirs are, of which no appearences have arrived at us. Amongst all the Predictions of Elder times, the most ancient, 
Augury the most certain way of Prediction.  and the most certain, were those taken from the Flights of Birds, we have nothing like it, not any thing so much to be admired. That rule, and order of the moving of the Wing, from whence they derived the Consequences of future things, must of necessity be guided by some excellent means, to so noble an Operation: For to attribute this great Effect to any natural Disposition, without the Intelligence, Consent, and Meditation of him by whom it is produced, is an Opinion evidently False: That it is so, the Cramp-Fish has this Quality, not only to benumn all the Members that touch her, but even through the Nets transmit a heavy dulness into the Hands of those that move, and handle them; nay it is further said, that if one pour Water upon her, he will feel this Numbness mount up the Water to the Hand, and stupify the Feeling through the Water. This is a miraculous Force; but 'tis not useless to the Cramp-Fish, she knows it, and makes use on't, for to catch the Prey she desires, she will bury herself in the Mud, that other Fishes, swimming over her, struck and benumned with this Coldness of hers, may fall into her Power. Cranes, Swallows, and other Birds of Passage, by shifting their Abode, according to the Seasons, sufficiently manifest the knowledge they have of their divining Faculty, and put it in use. Huntsmen assure us, that to cull out from amongst a great many Puppies, that which ought to be preserved for the best, the best way is to refer the Choice to the Dam, as thus, take them, and carry them out of the Kennel, and the first she brings back, will certainly be the best: Or if you make a show as if you would environ the Kennel with Fire, those that she first catches up to Save. By which it appears they have another sort of Prognostic, than we have; or that they have some Virtue in judging of their Whelps, other, and more certain than we have. The manner of coming into the World, of Engendering, Nourishing, Acting, Moving, Living, and Dying of Beasts, is so near to ours, that what ever we retrench from their moving Causes, and add to our own Condition above theirs, can by no means proceed from any Meditation of our own Reason. For the Regiment of our Health, Physicians propose to us the Example of the Beasts Manners, and way of living, for this saying, has in all times, been in the Mouth of the People. 

Tenez chaud les pieds, & la teste, 
Plutarch.   
Au demeurant vivez en beast.   

Keep warm thy Feet, and Head, as to the rest,  
Live like a Beast.   Generation is the principal of all natural Actions. We have a certain Disposition of Members, most proper, and convenient for us in that Affair: Nevertheless, we are ordered to conform to the Posture of Brutes, as the most effectual. 
— more ferarum, 
Lucret. l. 4.   
Quadrupedumque magis ritu, plerumque putantur,  
Concipere uxores: quia sic loca sumere possunt,  
Pectoribus positis, sublatis semina lumbis.  And condemn as hurtful, those extravagant, and indiscreet Motions the Women have superadded to the Work, reducing them to the Example, and practice of Beasts of their own Sex, more Sober, and Modest. 

Ibid.  Nam mulier prohibet se concipere atque repugnat,  
Clunibus ipsa viri Venerem si laeta retractet,  
Atque exossato ciet omni pectore fluctus.  
Ejicit enìm sulci recta regione viáque  
Vomerem, atque locis avertit seminis ictum.  If it be Justice to render to every one their Due, the Beasts that Serve, Love, and Defend their Benefactors, and that Pursue and fall upon Strangers▪ and those who Offend them, do in this represent a certain air of our Justice: As also in observing a very equitable Equality in the distribution of what they have, to their Young; and as to Friendship, they have it without Comparison more lively, and constant, than Men have. 
The love of Dogs to their Masters.  King Lysimachus his Dog Hyracan, his Master being dead, lay upon his Bed, obstinately refusing either to eat, or drink, and the day that his Body was burnt, he took a run, and leaped into the Fire, where he was consumed. As also did the Dog of one Pyrrhus; for he would not stir from off his Master's Bed, from the time that he died; and when they carried him away, let himself be carried with him, and at last leaped into the Pile, where they burned his Master's Body. There are certain Inclinations of Affection, which sometimes spring in us, without the consultation of Reason; and by a fortuitous Temerity, which others call Sympathy: Of which, Beasts are as capable, as we. We see Horses take such an Acquaintance with one another, that we have much ado to make them eat or travail, when separated: We observe them to fancy a particular Colour in those of their own kind, and where they meet it, run to it with great Joy and Demonstrations of Good Will, and have a dislike and hatred for some other Colour. Animals have choice, as well as we, in their Amours, and cull out their Mistresses; neither are they exempt from our Jealousies and implacable Malice. Desires are either natural and necessary, as to eat and drink; or natural and not necessary, as the coupling with Females; or neither natural nor necessary: Of which last sort, are almost all the Desires of Men: They are all superfluous and artificial: For 'tis not to believed, how little will satisfy Nature, how little she has left us to desire: Our Ragous' and Kickshaws are not of her Ordinary. The Stoics say, that a Man may live of an Olive a day: Our delicacy in our Wines is no part of her Instruction, nor the overacting the Ceremonies of Love. 
— neque illa  
Magno prognatum deposcit Consule cunnum. 
Hor. lib. 2. Sat. 2.   These irregular Desires, that the Ignorance of Good, and a false Opinion have infused into us, are so many, as they almost exclude all the Natural; no otherwise, than if there were so great a number of Strangers in a City, as to thrust out the Natural Inhabitants, or usurping upon their Ancient Rights and Privileges should extinguish their Authority, and introduce new Laws and Customs of their own. Animals are much more regular than we, 
Animals more regular than we.  and keep themselves with greater moderation within the limits Nature has prescribed; but yet not so exactly, that they have not an Analogy with our Debauches. And as there have been known furious Desires, that have hurried Men to the love of Beasts, so there has been examples of Beasts that have fallen in love with us, and caught with monstrous Affection betwixt different kinds: Witness the Elephant who was rival to Aristophanes the Grammarian in the love of a young Herbwench in the City of Alexandrin, who was nothing behind him in all the Offices of a very passionate Suitor: For going through the Market where they sold Fruit, he would take some in his Trunk, and carry them to her: He would as much as possible keep her always in his sight, and would sometimes put his Trunk under her Handkerchief into her Bosom to feel her Breasts. They tell also of a Dragon in love with a Maid, and of a Goose enamoured of a Child, of a Ram that was Servant to the Minstrelless Glaucia, and we see with our own eyes, Baboons furiously in love with Women. We see also certain Male Animals, that are fond of the Males of their own kind. Oppianus, and others give us some examples of the Reverence that Beasts have to their Kindred in their Copulations; but experience often shows us the contrary. 

— nec habetur turpe juvencae  
Ferre patrem tergo: Fit equo sua filia conjux: 
Ovid. Metam. lib. 10.   
Quasque creavit, init pecudes caper: Ipsaque cujus  
Semine concepta est, ex illo concepit ales.   

The Heifer thinks it not a shame to take  
Her curled Sire upon her willing Back:  
The Horse his Daughter leaps; Goats scruple not  
T'increase the Herd by those they have begot.  
And Birds of all sorts do in common live,  
And by the Seed they were conceived conceive.   And for malicious Subtlety, can there be a more pregnant example, than in the Philosopher Thales' Mule? Who foarding a River loaden with Salt, and by accident stumbling there, so that the Sacks he carried were all wet, perceiving that by the melting of the Salt, his Burden was something lighter, he never failed so oft as he came to any River to lie down with his Load; till his Master discovering the Knavery, ordered that he should be loaden with Wool, wherein finding himself mistaken, he ceased to practise that Device. There are several, that very lively represent the true Image of our Avarice, for we see them infinitely solicitous to catch all they can, and hide it with exceeding great Care, though they never make any use of it at all. As to Thrift, they surpass us not only in the foresight and laying up, and saving for the time to come, but they have moreover a great deal of the Science necessary thereto. The Ants bring abroad into the Sun their Grain and Seeds to air, refresh and dry them, when they perceive them to mould and grow musty, lest they should decay and rot. But the caution and prevention they use in gnawing their Grains of Wheat, surpass all Imagination of Human Prudence: For by reason that the Wheat does not always continue sound and dry; but grows soft, thaws and dissolves, as if it were steeped in Milk, whilst hasting to Germination, for fear lest it should shoot, and lose the Nature and Property of a Magazine for their subsistence, they nibble of the end by which it should shoot and spirit. As to what concerns War, which is the greatest and most magnificent of Human Actions, I would very fain know, whether we would serve for an Argument of some Prerogative, or on the contrary for a Testimony of our Weakness and imperfection; as in truth the Science of undoing and killing one another, and of ruining and destroying our own kind, has nothing in it so tempting, as to make it be coveted by Beasts who have it not. 

— quando leoni  
Fortior eripuit vitam Leo, quo nemore unquam  
Expiravit aper majoris dentibus Apris?   

— who ever yet beheld  
A weaker Lion by a stronger killed;  
Or in what Forest was it ever known  
That a small Boar died by a mighty one?   
Wars betwixt Bees.  Yet are they not universally exempt, Witness the furious Encounters of Bees, and the Erterprises of the Princes of the contrary Armies: 

— saepè duobus 
Virg. Georg. lib. 4.   
Regibus incessit magno discordia motu,  
Continuoque animos vulgi, & trepidantia bello  
Corda licet longè praesciscere.   

Betwixt two Kings strange Animosities,  
With great Commotion often do arise,  
When straight the Vulgar sort are heard from far,  
Sounding their little Trumpets to the War.   I never read this Divine Observation, but that, methinks, I there see Human Folly and Vanity represented in their true and lively Colours. For these Preparations for War that so fright and astonish us with their Noise and Tumult, this rattle of Guns, Drums and confused Voices: 

Fulgur ubi ad caelum se tollit, 
Lucret. lib. 2.  totàque circum  
Aere renidescit tellus, subterque virum vi  
Excitur pedibus sonitus, clamoreque montes  
Icti rejectant voces ad sidera mundi.   

When burnished Arms to Heaven dart their Rays,  
And the Earth glows with Beams of shining Brass.  
And trampled is by Horses, and by Men,  
Until the Centre even groans again,  
And that the Rocks, struck by the various Cries,  
Reverberate the Sound unto the Skies.   In the dreadful embattelling of so many thousands of Armed Men, and so great Fury, Ardour and Courage, 'tis pleasant to consider, by what idle occasion they are excited, and by how light ones appeased. 


Horat. lib. 2. Epist. 2.  Paridis propter narratur amorem,  
Graecia Barbariae diro collisa duello.   

Of wanton Paris the illicite Love,  
Did Greece and Troy to ten years' Slaughter move.   All Asia was ruined and destroyed for the ungoverned lust of one lascivious Paris. 
Laws of Asia about the Loves of Paris and Helen.  The Envy of one single Man, a Despite, a Pleasure or a Domestic Jealousy, Causes, that ought not to set two Oyster-wenches by the Ears, is the mover of all this mighty Bustle. Shall we believe those who are themselves the Principal Authors of these Mischiefs? Let us then hear the greatest and most victorious Emperor, that ever was, making sport of, and, with marvellous Ingenuity, descanting upon, and turning en ridicule, several Battles fought both by Sea and Land, the Blood and Lives of five hundred thousand Men that followed his Fortune, and the Strength and Riches of two parts of the World drained for the expense of his Expeditions. 
Quod futuit Glaphyran Antonius, 
Mart. l. 11. Epig. 21.  hanc mihi paenam  
Fulvia constituit, se quoque uti futuam.  
Fulviam ego ut futuam? Quid si me Maenius oret  
Paedicem, faciam? Non puto, si sapiam.  
Aut futue aut pugnemus, ait: Quid si mihi vita  
Charior est ipsa mentula? Signa canant.  (I use my Latin with the Liberty of Conscience you are pleased to allow me.) Now this great Body has so many Fronts, and has so many Motions, as seems to threaten Heaven and Earth, 

quam multi Lybico volvuntur marmore fluctus, 
Aeneid, lib. 7.   
Saevis ubi Orion hybernis conditur undis:  
Vel cum sole novo densae torrentur Aristae,  
Aut Hermi campo, aut Lyciae flaventibus arvis,  
Scuta sonant, pulsùque pedum tremit excita tellus.   

As numerous as the Lybian Waves that roll,  
When in those Seas Orion does control;  
Or thick-set Ears scorched by the Summer's Ray,  
On Hermus' Banks, or fruitful Lycia,  
Are the bright Shields, that dreadfully resound;  
And as they march, their Footing shakes the Ground.   This furious Monster with so many Heads and Arms, is yet Man, feeble, calamitous and miserable Man. 'Tis but an Ant-hill of Ants disturbed and provoked by a Spurn, 

It nigrum campis agmen.   


Virg. Aen. lib. 4.  The black Troop marches to the Field.   A contrary Blast, the croaking of a flight of Ravens, the Stumble of a Horse, the casual Passage of an Eagle, a Dream, a Voice, a Sign, a Morning Mist are any one of them sufficient to beat down and over-turn him. Dart but a Sunbeam in his Face, he is melted and vanished. Blow but a little Dust in his Eyes, as our Poet says of the Bees; and all our Ensigns and Legions, with the Great Pompey himself at the Head of them, are routed and crushed to pieces: For it was he, as I take it, that Sertorius beat in Spain, with those brave Arms; which also served Eumenes against Antigonus, and Surena against Crassus: 


Virg. Geor.. lib. 4.  Hi motus animorum, atque haec certamina tanta  
Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescent.  
This mighty Anger, and these furious Blows,  
A handful of Dust thrown, will soon compose.   Let us but slip our Flies after them, and they will have the Force and Courage to defeat them. Of fresh Memory the Portuguese having besieged the City of Tamly in the Territory of Xiatine, the Inhabitants of the place brought a great many Hives, 
The Siege of Tamly raised by Bees.  of which are great plenty in that place, upon the Wall; and with Fire drove the Bees so furiously upon the Enemy, that they gave over the Enterprise, and trussed up their Baggage, being not able to stand their Attacks, and endure their Stings. And so their City, by this new sort of relief, was freed from the Danger, with so wonderful a Fortune, that at their return from the Pursuit, they found they had not lost so much as one Man. The Souls of Emperors and Cobblers are cast in the same Mould. The weight and importance of the Actions of Princes considered, we persuade ourselves that they must be produced by some as weighty and important Causes: But we are deceived, for they are pushed on, and pulled back in their Motions, by the same Springs, that we are in our little Undertake. The same reason that makes us wrangle with a Neighbour, causes a War betwixt Princes; the same reason that makes us whip a Lackey, falling into the Hands of a King, makes him ruin a whole Province. They are as prompt, and as easily moved as we, but they are able to do more Mischief. In a Gnat and an Elephant the Passion is the same. As to what concerns Fidelity, there is no Animal in the World so treacherous as a Man. Our Histories have recorded the violent Pursuits that Dogs have made after the Murderers of their Masters. 
Dog's revenge the Death of their Masters.  King Pyrrhus observing a Dog that watched a dead Man's Body, and understanding that he had for three days together performed that Office, commanded that the Body should be buried, and took the Dog along with him. One day as he was at a general Muster of his Army, this Dog was aware of his Master's Murderers, and with great Barking, and extreme signs of Anger, flew upon them, by this first Accusation, awaking the Revenge of this Murder, which was soon after perfected by Form of Justice. As much was done by the Dog of the wise Hesiod, who convinced the Sons of Ganister of Naupactus of the Murder committed in the person of his Master. Another Dog being to guard a Temple at Athens, having spied a Sacrilegious Thief, who carried away the fairest Jewels, 
The Fidelity of a Dog in pursuing a Sacrilegious person.  fell to barking at him with all the force he had; But the Warders not awaking at the Noise, he followed him, and, day being broke, kept off at a farther distance, without losing sight of him; if he offered him any thing to eat, would not take it, but would wag his Tail at all the Passengers he met, and took whatever they gave him at their hands; and if the Thief laid down to sleep, he likewise stayed upon the place. The News of this Dog being come to the Warders of this Church, they put themselves upon the pursuit, enquiring of the Colour of the Dog, and at last found him in the City of Cromyon, and the Thief also whom they brought back to Athens, where he had his reward: And where the Judges, taking Cognizance of the good Office, ordered a certain Measure of Corn for the Dog's daily Sustenance, at the Public Charge, and the Priest's to take care in it. Plutarch delivers this Story for a most certain truth, and that happened in the Age wherein he lived. As to Gratitude (for I doubt, we had need bring this word into a little greater repute) this one example, which Appion reports himself to have been an Eye-witness of, 
The Gratitude of a Lion towards a Slave.  shall suffice. One day (says he) that at Rome they entertained the people with the pleasure of the fight of several strange Beasts, and principally of Lions of an unusual size; there was one amongst the rest, who, by his furious Deportment, by the strength and largeness of his Limbs, and by his loud and dreadful Roaring, attracted the Eyes of all the Spectators. Amongst other Slaves, that were presented to the people in this Combat of Beasts, there was one Androdus of Dacia, belonging to a Roman Lord of Consular Dignity. This Lion having seen him at distance, first made a sudden stop, as it were, in a wondering posture, and then softly approached nearer in a gentle and peaceable manner, as if it were to enter into acquaintance with him. This being done, and being now assured of what he sought for, he began to wag his Tail, as Dogs do when they flatter their Masters, and to kiss and lick the Hands and Thighs of the poor Wretch, who was besides himself, and almost dead with fear. Androdus being by this kindness of the Lion, a little come to himself, and having taken so much heart, as to consider and know him; it was a singular Pleasure to see the Joy and Caresses that passed betwixt them. At which, the people breaking into loud Acclamations of Joy, the Emperor caused the Slave to be called, to know from him the cause of so strange an Event; who, thereupon told him a new and a very strange Story: My Master (said he) being Proconsul in afric, I was constrained by his Severity and cruel Usage, being daily beaten, to steal from him, and to run away. And to hide myself securely from a person of so great Authority in the Province, I thought it my best way to fly to the Solitudes, Sands, and uninhabitable parts of that Country, resolved, that in case the means of supporting Life should chance to fail me, to make some shift or other to kill myself. The Sun being excessively hot at Noon, and the Heat intolerable, I accidentally found a private and almost inaccessible Cave, and went into it. Soon after there came in to me this Lion with one Foot wounded and bloody; complaining and groaning with the Pain he endured: At his coming I was exceedingly afraid, but he having espied me hid in a corner of his Den, came gently to me, holding out, and showing me his wounded Foot, as if he demanded my assistance in his distress. I than drew out a great Splinter he had got there, and growing a little more familiar with him, squeezing the Wound, thrust out the Dirt and Gravel was got into it, wiped and cleansed it the best I could: He finding himself something better, and much easied of his Pain, laid him down to repose, and presently fell asleep with his Foot in my hand. From that time forward he and I lived together in this Cave three whole years, upon one and the same Diet; for of the Beasts that he killed in hunting, he always brought me the best pieces, which I roasted in the Sun for want of Fire, and so eat it. At last growing weary of this wild and brutish Life, the Lion being one day gone abroad to hunt for our ordinary Provision, I escaped from thence, and the third day after was taken by the Soldiers, who brought me from afric to this City to my Master, who presently condemned me to die, and to be thus exposed to the wild Beasts. Now by what I see, I perceive that this Lion was also taken soon after, who would now have recompensed me for the Benefit and Cure that he received at my hands. This is the Story that Androdus told the Emperor, which he also conveyed from hand to hand to the people: Wherefore at the general Request, he was absolved from his Sentence, and set at liberty; and the Lion was by order of the people, presented to him. We afterwards saw (says Appion) Androdus leading this Lion, in nothing but a small Leash, from Tavern to Tavern at Rome, and receiving what Money every body would give him, the Lion being so gentle, as to suffer himself to be covered with the Flowers that the People threw upon him, 
Weeping of Beasts for the loss of those we love.  every one that met him, saying, There goes the Lion that entertained the Man, there goes the Man that cured the Lyon. We oft lament the loss of the Beasts we love, and so do they the loss of us. 


Virg. Eneid. lib. 11.  Post bellator equus, positis insignibus, Aethon  
It lacrymen, guttisque humectat grandibus ora.   

— The Triumph more to Grace,  
Aethon his Horse of War, came next in place,  
Who of his Trappings stripped, showed such regret,  
That with large Tears his hairy Cheeks were wet.   As some Nations have their Wives in Common, and some others have every one his own: Is not the same evident amongst Beasts, and Marriages better kept than ours? As to the Society, and Confederation they make amongst themselves, to league themselves together, and to give one another mutual Assistance: 
Society amongst Beasts.  Is it not manifest, that Oxen, Hogs, and other Animals, at the Cry of any of their Kind, that we offend, all the Herd run to his Aid, and embody for his Defence? 
A Fish that chews.  The Fish Scarus, when he has swallowed the Anglers Hook, his Fellows all crowd about him, and gnaw the Line in pieces; and if by chance, one be got into the Leap, or Wheel, the others present him their Tails on the out side, which he holding fast with his Teeth, they after that manner disengage, and draw him out. Mullets, when one of their Companions is engaged, cross the Line over their back, and with a Fin they have there, indented like a Saw, cut and saw it asunder. As to the particular Offices that we receive from one another, for the Service of Life, there are several like Examples amongst them. 'Tis said, that the Whale never moves, that she has not always before her a little Fish, like the See-Gudgion, for this reason called the Guide-Fish; whom the Whale Follows, suffering himself to be led, and turned with as great Facility, as the Stern guides the Ship: In Recompense of which Service also, whereas all other things, whether Beast, or Vessel, that enters into the dreadful Gulf of this Monster's Mouth, is immediately lost, and swallowed up, this little Fish retires into it in great Security, and there sleeps, during which, the Whale never stirs: But so soon as ever it goes out, he immediately follows: and if by accident he loses the sight of his little Guide, he goes wand'ring here, and there, and strikes his Sides against the Rocks, like a Ship that has lost her Rudder: Which Plutarch affirms to have seen in the Island of Anticyra. There is a like Society betwixt the little Bird called a Wren, and the Crocodile; the Wren serves for a Centinel over this great Animal: And if the Ichneumon, his mortal Enemy, approach to fight him, this little Bird, for fear lest he should surprise him a sleep, both with his Voice, and Bill, rouses him, and gives him notice of his Danger. He feeds of this Monsters Leave, who receives him familiarly into his Mouth, suffering him to pick in his Jaws, and betwixt his Teeth, and thence to pick out the Bits of Flesh that remain, and when he has a mind to shut his Mouth, he first gives the Bird warning to go out, by closing it by little and little, without bruising, or doing it any harm at all. The Shellfish, called a Naker, lives also with the Shrimp in the same Intelligence; a little sort of Animal, of the Lobster kind, serving him in the Nature of a Porter, sitting at the opening of the Shell, which the Naker keeps always gaping and open, till the Shrimp sees some little Fish, proper for their Prey, within the hollow of the Shell, for than she enters too, and pinches the Naker so to the Quick, that she is forced to close her Shell, where they two together devour the Prey they have trapped in their Fort. In the manner of living of the Tunnies, we observe a singular Knowledge of the three parts of Mathematics. As to Astrology, they teach it Men, for they stay in the Place where they are surprised by the Brumal Solstice, and never stir from thence till the next Equinox: For which Reason, Aristotle himself attributes to them this Science. As to Geometry and Arithmetic, they always form their Body in the Figure of a Cube, every way Square, and make up the Body of a Battalion, solid, close, and environed round with six equal Sides: So that swimming in this square Order, as large behind, as before; whoever in seeing them can count one Rank, may easily number the whole Troop, by reason that the Depth is equal to the Breadth, and the Breadth to the Length. As to Magnanimity, it will be hard to give a better Instance of that, 
Magnanimity of an Indian Dog.  than in the Example of the great Dog, sent to Alexander the Great, from the Indies: They first brought him a Stag to Encounter, next a Boar, and after that a Bear, all which he slighted, and disdained to stir from his place; but when he saw a Lion, he then immediately roused himself; evidently manifesting, that he declared that alone, worthy to enter the Lists with him. As to what concerns Repentance, and the acknowledgement of Faults, 'tis reported of an Elephant, that having, 
Repentance of an Elephant.  in the impetuosity of his Rage, killed his Reeper, he fell into so extreme a Sorrow, that he would never after Eat, but starved himself to Death. And as to Clemency, 'tis said of a Tiger, the most inhuman of all Beasts; that a Kid having been put in to him, he suffered two days Hunger rather than hurt it, and the third, broke the Grate he was shut up in, to go seek elsewhere for Prey, so unwilling he was to fall upon the Kid, his Familiar, and his Guest. And as to the Laws of Familiarity and Agreement, formed by Conversation, it ordinarily happens, that we bring up Cats, Dogs, and Hares, tame together: But that which Seamen experimently know, and particularly in the Cilician Sea, of the Quality of the Halcyons, 
Marvellous condition of the Halcyons.  does surpass all human Thought. Of what kind of Animal has Nature ever so much honoured the Sitting, Enlivening, and Disclosing? The Poets indeed say, that one only I'll of Delos, that before was a floating Island, was fixed for the Service of Latona's lying in; but God has ordered that the whole Ocean should be stayed, made Stable and smoothed without Waves, without Winds, or Rain, whilst the Halcyon brood's upon her Young, which is just about the Solstice, the shortest day of the Year; so that by her Privilege, we have seven Days and seven Nights, in the very heart of Winter, wherein we may sail without Danger. Their Females never have to do with any other Male, but their own, whom they always serve, and assist, without ever forsaking him all their Lives: If he happen to be weak, and broken with Age, they take him upon their Shoulders, carry him from place to place; and serve him to Death. But the most Inquisitive into the Secrets of Nature, could never yet arrive at the Knowledge of the wonderful Fabric, and Architecture wherewith the Halcyon builds her Nest for his little ones, nor guests at the matter. 
The structure of their Nests, and the matter whereof they are built.  Plutarch, who has seen, and handled many of them, thinks it is the Bones of some Fish, which she joins and binds together, interlacing them some lengthwise, and others across, and adding Ribs, and Hoops in such manner, that she forms at last a round Vessel fit to Launch, which being done, and the Building finished, she carries it to the Wash of the Beach, where the Sea beating gently against it, shows her where she is to mend what is not well jointed and knit, and where better to Fortify the Seams that are leaky, and that open at the beating of the Waves; and on the contrary, what is well built, and has had the due finishing, the beating of the Waves do so close, and bind together, that it is not to be broken, or cracked, by Blows either of Stone, or Iron, without very much ado. And that which is more to be admired, is the Proportion and Figure of the Cavity within, which is composed, and proportioned after such a manner, as not possible to receive, or admit any other thing, than the Bird that built it: For to any thing else, it is so impenetrable, close, and shut, that nothing can enter, not so much as the Water of the Sea. See here a very clear Description of this Building, and borrowed from a very good Hand; and yet, methinks, it does not give us sufficient Light into the Difficulty of this Architecture. Now from what Vanity can it proceed, to Despise and disdainfully to Interpret Effects, that we can neither imitate, nor comprehend? To pursue a little further this Equality, and Correspondence betwixt us, and Beasts; the Privilege our Soul so much glorifies herself upon, of bringing all things she conceives to her own Law, of stripping all things that come to her, of their mortal and corporal Qualities, of ordering and placing things she conceives worthy her taking notice of, stripping and divesting them of their corruptible Qualities, and making them to lay aside Length, Breadth, Depth, Weight, Colour, Smell, Roughness, Smoothness, Hardness, Softness, and all sensible Accidents, and mean and superfluous Vestments, to accommodate them to her own immortal, and spiritual Condition: As Rome and Paris, for Example, that I have in my Fancy. Paris that I imagine, I imagine, and conceive it, without Greatness, and without Place, without Stone, without Plaster, and without Wood: This very same Privilege, I say, seems to be evidently in Beasts: For a Courser accustomed to the Danger of Trumpets, the Rattle of Musket-Shot, and the Bustle of Battles, which we see start and tremble in his Sleep, and stretched upon his Litter as if he were in Fight; it is most certain, that he conceives in his Soul the beat of Drum without Noise, and an Army without Arms, and without Body. 


Lucret. l. 4.  Quip videbis equos fortes, cum membra jacebunt  
In somnis, sudare tamen, spiraréque saepe,  
Et quasi de Palma summas contendere vires.   

You shall see managed Horses in their Sleep,  
Sweat, Snort, Start, Tremble, and a Clutter keep,  
As if with all their Force they striving were,  
The Victor's Palm proudly away to bear.   The Hare, that a Grayhound imagines in his Sleep, after which we see him pant so whilst he sleeps, stretch out his Tail, shake his Legs, and perfectly represent all the Motions of a Course, is a Hare without Wool, and without Bones. 

Venantúmque canes in molli saepe quiet 
Ibid.   
Jactant crura tamen subitò, vocésque repentè  
Mittunt, & crebras reducunt naribus auras,  
Vt vestigia si teneant inventa ferarum:  
Expergefactique sequuntur inania saepe  
Cervorum simulacra, fugae quasi dedita cernant:  
Donec discussis redeant erroribus ad se.   

And Hounds stir often in their quiet Rest,  
Spending their Mouths, as if upon a Quest,  
Snuff, and breath quick, and short, as if they went,  
In a full Chase upon a burning Scent:  
Nay being waked, imagined Stags pursue,  
As if they had them in their real View,  
Till having shaken themselves more broad awake,  
They do, at last, discover the Mistake.   The Bandogs, that we often observe to snarl in their Dreams, and afterwards bark out, and start up on a sudden, as if they perceived some Stranger at hand. This Stranger that the Soul discerns, is a spiritual Man, and Imperceptible, without Dimension, without Colour, and without Being. 

Consueta domi catulorum blanda propago  
Degere, 
Ibid.  saepe levem ex oculis volucremque soporem  
Discutere, & corpus de terra corripere instant,  
Proinde quasi ignotas facies, atque ora tueantur.   

The fawning Issue of House-Dogs will rise,  
And shaking the soft Slumber from their Eyes,  
Oft wildly stare at every one within,  
As upon Faces they had never seen.   As to the Beauty of the Body, before I proceed any further, I should know whether, or no, we are agreed about the Description: 'Tis likely we do not well know what Beauty is in Nature; and in general, since to our own human Beauty we give so many divers Forms; of which, were there any natural Rule, and Prescription, we should know it in common, as the Heat of the Fire. But we fancy the Forms according to our own Appetite, and Liking. 


Propert. lib. 2. Eleg. 13.  Turpis Romano Belgicus o'er colour.   

The fair Complexion of a Germane Lass,  
Would be thought ugly in a Roman Face.   Indians paint it black and tawny, with great swelled Lips, 
Beauty of the Indians.  great and flat Noses, and load the Cartilege betwixt the Nostrils with great Rings of Gold, to make it hang down to the Mouth; as also the nether Lip with great Circles, enriched with Stones, that weigh them down to fall upon the Chin, it being with them a singular Grace to show their Teeth, even below the Roots. In Peru, the greatest Ears are the most Beautiful, which they stretch out as far as they can by Art. And a Man now living says, that he has seen in an Eastern Nation, this care of enlarging them in so great Repute, and the Ear loaden with so ponderous Jewels, that he did with great ease, put his Arm, Sleeve, and all, through the hole of an Ear. There are elsewhere Nations, that take great care to black their Teeth, and hate to see them white; 
White Teeth despised.  and others that paint them re●▪ The Women are reputed more Beautiful, not only in Biscay, but elsewhere, for having their Heads shaved: And which is more, in certain frozen Countries, as Pliny reports. The Mexicans esteem a low Forehead a great Beauty, and though they shave all other Parts, they nourish Hair on the Forehead, and increase it by Art; and have great Breasts in so great Reputation, that they affect to give their Children suck over their Shoulders. We should paint Deformity so. The Italians fashion it Gross and Massy: The Spaniards, Gaunt and Slender; and amongst us, one has made it White, another Brown: One Soft and Delicate; another Strong and Vigorous: One will have his Mistress Soft and Gentle; others Scornful and Proud. Just as the Preference in Beauty, that Plato attributes to the spherical Figure, the Epicureans give rather to the Pyramidal, or Square; and cannot swallow a God in the form of a Bowl. But be it how it will, Nature has no more privileged us in this from these common Laws, than in the rest. And if we will judge ourselves aright, we shall find, that if there be some Animals less favoured in this, than we; there are others, and in great number, that are more. A multis animalibus decore vincimur; 
Senec. Epist. 124.  even the Terrestrial, our Compatriots. For as to those of the Sea, setting the Figure aside, which cannot fall into any manner of Proportion, being so much another thing: In Colour, Cleanness, Smoothness, and Disposition, we sufficiently give place to them; and no less in all Qualities to the Aereal. And this Prerogative that the Poets make such a mighty matter of, our erect Stature, looking towards Heaven our Original, 

Prondque cum spectent animalia caetera terram,  

Ovid. Met. lib. 2.  Os homini sublime dedit, caelumque videre  
Jussit, & erectos ad sydera tollere vultus.   

And whereas other Animals do bow,  
Their prone abjected Looks to Earth below,  
He gave Men Looks erected, to behold  
The Heavenly Arch studded with Stars of Gold.   is truly Poetical: For there are several little Beasts, who have their Sight absolutely turned towards Heaven; and I find the Countenances of Camels, and Ostriges, much higher raised, and more erect than ours. What Animals have not their Faces above, and not before, and do not look opposite as we do: And that do not in their natural Posture discover as much of Heaven and Earth, as Man? And what Qualities of our bodily Constitution in Plato and Cicero, may not indifferently serve a thousand sorts of Beasts? Those that most resemble us, are the most Despicable, and deformed of all the Herd: For those in outward appearance and form of Visage, are Baboons and Monkeys: 

Simia quam similis, turpissima bestia nobis?   

How like to Man in Visage, and in Shape, 
Cic. de Nat. Deor. lib. 1. ex Enyo.   
Is, of all Beasts the most deformed, the Ape?   For the Internal, and Vital Parts, the Hog. In earnest, when I imagine Man stark naked, (even in that Sex, that seems to have the greatest share of Beauty) his Defects, natural Subjection, and Imperfections, I find that we have more reason than any other Animal, to cover ourselves; are to be excused for borrowing of those, that Nature has in this been kinder, than to us, to trick ourselves with their Beauties, and hide ourselves under their Spoils, their Wool, Feathers, Hair, and Silk. Let us observe as to the rest, that Man is the sole Animal, whose Nudities offend his own Companions, and the only one, who in his natural Actions withdraws, and hides himself from his own Kind. And really, 'tis also an Effect worth Consideration, that they, who are Masters in the Trade, prescribe as a Remedy for amorous Passions, the full, and free View of the Body a Man desires, so that to cool the Ardour, there needs no more, but at liberty to see, and contemplate the Parts he loves. 


Ovid. de Rem. Amor. l. 2.  Ille quòd obscaenas in aperto corpore parts  
Viderat, in cursu qui fuit, haesit amor.   

The Love's thats tilting, when those Parts appear  
Open to View, flags in the hot Career.   And although this Receipt may peradventure proceed from a nice and cold Humour: It is notwithstanding, a very great sign of our want of Strength and Mettle, that Use and Acquaintance should make us disgust one another. It is not Modesty so much as Cunning and Prudence, that makes our Ladies so Circumspect, to refuse us Admittance into their Cabinets, before they are painted and tricked up for the public View. 

Nec Veneres nostras hoc fallit, quò magis ipsae  
Omnia summopere hos vitae post scenta celant,  
Quos retinere volunt adstrictoque esse in amore.   

Of this, our Ladies are full well aware,  
Which makes them with such Privacy and Care,  
Behind the Scene all those Defects remove,  
Should check the Flame of those, they most do love.   Whereas in several Animals there is nothing that we do not love, and that does not please our Senses: So that from their very Excrements, we do not only extract wherewith to heighten our Sauces; but also our richest Ornaments and Perfumes. This Discourse reflects upon none, but the ordinary sort of Women, and is not so Sacrilegious, as to comprehend those Divine, Supernatural and extraordinary Beauties, which we see shine amongst us, like Stars under a Corporeal and Terrestrial Veil. As to the rest, the very Share that we allow to Beasts, of the bounty of Nature, by our own Confession, is very much to their Advantage. We attribute to ourselves imaginary and fantastic Goods, future and absent Goods, for which human Capacity cannot of herself be Responsible: Or Goods, that we falsely attribute to ourselves by the Licence of Opinion, as Reason, Knowledge, and Honour: And leave to them for their Dividend, Essential, Maniable, and Palpable Goods, as Peace, Repose, Security, Innocence, and Health: Health, I say, the fairest and richest Present that Nature can make us. 
Health the best and richest Gift of Nature.  Insomuch that the Philosopher, even the Stoic, is so bold as to say, that Heraclitus and Pherecides, could they have trucked their Wisdom for Health, and have delivered themselves, the one of his Dropsy, and the other of the lousy Disease that tormented him by the bargain, they had done well. By which they set a greater Value upon Wisdom, comparing and putting it in the Balance with Health, than they do in this other Proposition, which is also theirs. They say, that if Circe had presented Ulysses with two Potions, 
Cicero 's two Potions.  the one to make a Fool become a Wiseman, and the other to make a Wiseman become a Fool, that Ulysses ought rather to have chosen the last, than to consent that Circe had changed his human Figure into that of a Beast: And say that Wisdom itself would have spoke to him after this manner. Forsake me, let me alone, rather than lodge me under the Body and Figure of an Ass. How? The Philosophers than will abandon this great and divine Wisdom, for this corporal and terrestrial Covering? It is than no more by Reason, by Discourse, and by the Soul, that we excel Beasts: 'Tis by our Beauty, our fair Complexion, and our fine symmetry of Parts, for which we must quit our Intelligence, our Prudence, and all the rest. Well, I accept this natural and free Confession: Certainly they knew, that those Parts upon which we so much value ourselves, are no other than mere Fancy. If Beasts then had all the Virtue, Knowledge, Wisdom and Stoical Perfection; they would still be Beasts, and would not be comparable to Man, Miserable, Wicked, and a Madman. For, in fine, whatever is not as we are, is nothing considerable: And God, to procure himself an Esteem amongst us, must put himself into that Shape, as we shall show anon. By which it does appear, that it is not upon any true ground of Reason, but by a foolish Pride and vain Opinion, that we prefer ourselves before other Animals, and separate ourselves from their Society and Condition. But, to return, to what I was upon before, we have for our part, Inconstancy, Irresolution, Incercitude, Sorrow, Superstition, Solicitude of things to come, even after we shall be no more, Ambition, Avarice, Jealousy, Envy, Irregular, Frantic and Untamed Appetites, War, Lying, Disloyalty, Detraction and Curiosity. Doubtless, we have strangely overpaid this Fine, upon which we so much glorify ourselves, and this Capacity of Judging and Knowing, if we have bought it at the Price of this infinite number of Passions, to which we are eternally subject. Unless we shall yet think fit, as Socrates does, to add to the Counterpoise, that notable Prerogative above Beasts, that whereas Nature has prescribed them certain Seasons and Limits for the Delights of Venus, she has given us the Reins at all Hours, and all Seasons. Vt vinum aegrotis quia prodest rarò, nocet saepissime, melius est non adhibere omnino, quam, 
Cicero de Nat. Deor. l. 3. simile.  spe dubiae salutis in apertam perniciem incurrere: Sic haud scio, an melius fuerit humano generi motum istum celerem, cogitationis acumen, solertiam, quam rationem vocamus, qoniam pestifera sint multis, admodum paucis salutaria, non dari omnimo, quam tam munificè & tam largè dari. As it falls out, that Wine often hurts the Sick, and very rarely does them good, it is better not to give them any at all, than to run into an apparent Danger, out of hope of an incertain Benefit: So I know not, whether it had not been better for Mankind, that this quick Motion, this penetrancy of Imagination, this Subtlety, that we call Reason, had not been given to Man at all; considering how pestiferous it is to many, and healthful but to few, than to have been conferred in so abundant manner, and with so liberal a Hand. Of what Advantage can we conceive the Knowledge of so many things was to Varro, and Aristotle? Did it exempt them from human Inconveniences? Were they by it freed from the Accidents, that lie heavy upon the Shoulders of a Porter? Did they extract from their Logic any Consolation for the Gout? Or, for knowing that the Humour is lodged in the Joints, did they feel it the less? Have they compounded with Death, by knowing that some Nations rejoice at his Approach: Or with Cuckoldry, by knowing, that in some part of the World, Wives are in Common? On the contrary; having been reputed the greatest Men for Knowledge, the one amongst the Romans, and the other amongst the Greeks, and in a time when Learning did most flourish, we have not heard nevertheless, that they had any particular Excellence in their Lives: Nay, the Greek had enough to do, to clear himself from some notable Blemishes in his. Have we observed that Pleasure and Health have had a better relish with him that understands Astrology and Grammar, than with others? 


Horat. Ep. 8.  Illiterati num minus nervi rigent?   

Th' illiterate Ploughman is as Fit,  
For Venus' Service as the Wit.   And Shame and Poverty less troublesome to the first, than the last? 

Scilicet & morbis, & debilitate carebis, 
Juv. Sat. 14.   
Et luctum & curam effugies, & tempora vitae  
Longa tibi post haec fato meliore dabuntur.   

— Thou shall be free  
Both from Disease, and from Infirmity,  
From Care and Sorrow, and thy Life shall be  
Prolonged under a better Destiny.   I have known in my time a hundred Artisans, and a hundred Labourers wiser and more happy, than the Rectors of the University, and whom I had much rather have resembled. Learning methinks, has its Place amongst the necessary things of Life, as Glory, Nobility, Dignity, or at the most, as Riches, and such other Qualities, which indeed are useful to it; but remotely, and more by Opinion, than by Nature. We stand very little more in need of Offices, Rules, and Laws of living in our Society, than Cranes and Emmets do in theirs. And yet we see that they carry themselves very regularly, and without Erudition. If Man was Wise, he would take the true value of every thing according as it was more utile, and proper to his Life. Whoever will number us by our Actions and Deportments, will find many more excellent Men amongst the Ignorant than the Learned: I say, in all sort of Virtue. The old Rome seems to me, to have been of much greater Value, both for Peace and War, than that learned Rome that ruin'd itself. And though all the rest should be equal; yet the Prowess, Integrity, and Innocency would remain to the Ancients, for they cohabit singularly well with Simplicity. But I will leave this Discourse, 
Humility and Submission the Parents of Virtue.  that would lead me farther than I am willing to follow; and shall only say this farther, 'tis only Humility and Submission, that can make a complete good Man. We are not to leave the Knowldg of his Duty to every Man's own Judgement: We are to prescribe it to him, and not suffer him to choose it at his own Discretion: Otherwise, according to the Imbecility and infinite Variety of our Reasons and Opinions, we should at last forge ourselves Duties, that would (as Epicurus says) enjoin us to eat one another. The first Law that ever God gave to Man, was a Law of pure Obedience: It was a Commandment naked and simple, wherein Man had nothing to inquire after, or to dispute, forasmuch as to obey, is the proper Office of a Rational Soul, acknowledging a heavenly Superior and Benefactor. From Obedience and Submission, spring all other Virtues, as all Sin does from Self-Opinion. And on the contrary, the first Temptation, that by the Devil was offered to human Nature, its first Poison insinuated itself by the Promises was made us of Knowledge and Wisdom: Eritis sicut Dii, scientes bonum & malum. Ye shall be as Gods, knowing Good and Evil. 
Gen. 3.  And the Sirens in Homer, to allure Ulysses, and draw him within the danger of their Snares, offered to give him Knowledge. The Plague of Man, is the Opinion of Wisdom. And for this reason it is, that Ignorance is so recommended to us by our Religion, as proper to Faith and Obedience. Cavete, ne quis vos decipiat per Philosophiam, & inanes seductiones, 
Coloss. c. 2.  secundum elementa mundi. Take heed, lest any Man deceive you by Philosophy and vain Deceit, after the Tradition of Men, and the Rudiments of the World. There is in this a general Consent amongst all sorts of Philosophers, that the sovereign Good consists in the Tranquillity of the Soul and Body: But where shall we find it? 

Ad summum sapiens uno minor est Jove, 
Horat. l. 1. Epist. 1.  dives  
Liber, honoratus, pulcher, rex denique regum:  
Praecipuè sanus, nisi cum pituita molesta est:   

He that is Wise, inferior is to none,  
If he be Wise indeed, but Jove alone.  
Rich, Free, and Graceful, these do Reverence bring,  
And lastly of the great, Kings, a King:  
And chiefly sound, unless sometimes there flow  
A trickling Rheum upon his Lungs, or so.   It seems, in truth, that Nature, for the Consolation of our miserable and wretched Estate, has only given us Presumption for our Inheritance. 'Tis as Epictetus says, That Man has nothing properly his own, but the use of his Opinions: We have nothing but Wind and Smoke for our Portion. The Gods have Health in Essence, says Philosophy, and Sickness in Intelligence. Man, on the contrary, possess his Goods by Fancy, his Ills in Essence. We have had Reason to magnify the Power of our Imagination; for all our Goods are only in Dream. Hear this poor calamicous Animal Huff. There is nothing, says Cicero, so charming as the Knowledge of Letters; of Letters I say, by means whereof the Infinity of things, the immense grandeur of Nature, the Heavens, even in this World, the Earth, and the Seas are discovered to us: 'Tis they that have taught us Religion, Moderation, and the grandeur of Courage, and that have rescued our Souls from Obscurity, to make her see all things, high, low, first and last, and indifferent: 'tis they, that furnish us wherewith to live happily and well, and conduct us to pass over our Lives without Displeasure, and without Offence. Does not this Man seem to speak of the Condition of the Everliving and Almighty God? And as to the Effect, a thousand little Country-Women have lived Lives more equal, more sweet and constant than his. 

— Deus ille fuit Deus, inclute Memmi,  

Lucr. l. 5.  Qui princeps vitae rationem invenit eam, quae  
Nunc appellatur sapientia, quíque per artem  
Fluctibus è tantis vitam tantisque tenebris,  
In tam tranquilla, & tam clara luce locavit.   

That God, great Memmus, was a God no doubt,  
Who, Prince of Life, first found that Reason out,  
Now Wisdom called, and by his Art, who did  
That Life in Tempests tossed, and Darkness hid,  
Place in so great a Calm, and clear a Light.   Here are brave ranting Words: But a very light Accident put this Man's Understanding in a worse Condition, 
Temerity, and Presumption of some Philosophers.  than that of the meanest Shepherd: Notwithstanding this Instructing God, this Divine Wisdom. Of the same stamp of Impudence is the Promise of Democritus his Book: I am going to speak of all things. And that foolish Title that Aristotle prefixes to one of his, of the Immortal Gods: And the Judgement of Chrysippus, That Dion was as Virtuous, as God. And my beloved Seneca does indeed acknowledge, that God has given him Life: But that to live well, is his own. According to this other, In virtute verè gloriamur: quod non contingeret, si id donum à Deo non à nobis haberemus. 
Cicero de Nat. Deor. l. 3.  We truly glory in our Virtue: Which would not be, if it was given us of God, and not by ourselves. This is also Seneca's saying, That the Wise Man has Fortitude equal with God; but in human Frailty, wherein he surmounts him. There is nothing so ordinary as to meet with Sallies of the like Temerity: There is none of us, who takes so much Offence to see himself equal to God, as he does, to see himself undervalved by being ranked with other Creatures; so much more are we jealous of our own Interest, than that of our Creator. But we must trample under foot this foolish Vanity, and briskly and boldly shake the ridiculous Foundation, upon which these false Opinions are founded. So long as Man shall believe he has any Means and Power of himself, he will never acknowledge what he owes to his Maker, his Eggs shall always be Chickens, as the saying is: We must therefore strip him to his Shirt. Let us see some notable Example of the Effects of his Philosophy. Possidonius being tormented with a Disease so painful, as made him Writh his Arms, and Gnash his Teeth; thought he sufficiently baffled the Dolour, by crying out against it: Thou dost exercise thy Malice to much Purpose, I will not Confess that thou art an Evil. He is as sensible of the Pain as my Footman, but he mightily values himself, upon bridling his Tongue at least, and restraining it within the Laws of his Sect. Re succumbere non oportebat verbis gloriantem. It did not become him that spoke so big, 
Cic. Tusc. l. 2.  to confess his Frailty when he came to the Test. Archesilaus', being ill of the Gout, and Carneades coming to see him, was returning troubled at his Condition, whom having called back, and showing him his Feet and his Breast: There is nothing come from thence hither, said he. This has something a better Grace, for he feels himself in Pain, and would be disengaged from it: But his Heart, notwithstanding, is not Conquered, nor Subdued by it. The other stands more obstinately to his Work; but I fear, rather verbally than really. And Dionysius Heracleotes, afflicted with a vehement smarting in his Eyes, was reduced, and made to quit these stoical Resolutions. But though Knowledge should, in effect, do as they say, and could blunt the Point, and dull the Edge of the Misfortunes that attend us, what does she yet more, than what Ignorance does more purely, and evidently do? The Philosopher Pyrrho, being at Sea in very great Danger, by reason of a mighty Storm, presented nothing to those who were with him, to imitate in this Extremity, but the Security of a Hog they had aboard, that was Fearless and unconcerned at the Tempest. Philosophy, when she has said all she can, refers us at last, to the Example of a Wrestler, or a Muletteer, in which sort of People we commonly observe much less apprehension of Death, sense of Pain, and other Infirmities, and more Constancy, than ever Knowledge furnished any one withal, that was not born with those Infirmities, and of himself prepared by a natural Habit. What is the Cause, that we make Incisions, and cut the tender Limbs of an Infant, and those of a Horse, more easily than ours, but Ignorance only? How many has mere force of Imagination made sick? 
Diseases caused by Imagination.  We often see Men cause themselves to be let Blood, Purged and Physick'd, to be cured of Diseases they only feel in Opinion. When real Infirmities fail us, Knowledge lends us hers: That Colour, that Complexion, portend some Defluxion: This hot Season threatens us with a Fever: This breach in the life-Line of your left Hand, gives you notice of some near and dangerous Indisposition, and at last roundly attacks Health itself; saying, this spriteliness and vigour of Youth, cannot continue in this Posture, there must be Blood taken, and the Heat abated, lest it turn to your Prejudice. Compare the Life of a Man subjected to such Imaginations, to that of a Labourer that suffers himself to be led by his natural Appetite, measuring things only by the present Sense, without Knowledge, and without Prognostic, that feels no Pain nor Sickness, but when he is really tormented, or sick: Whereas the other has the Stone in his Soul, before he has it either in his Reins or Bladder: As if it were not time enough to suffer the Evil when it shall come, he must anticipate it by Fancy, and run to meet it. What I say of Physic may generally serve in Example for all other Sciences: From thence is derived that ancient Opinion of Philosophers, that placed the sovereign Good, in the discovery of the weakness of our Judgement. My Ignorance affords me as much occasion of Hope, as of Fear: And having no other Rule for my Health, than that of the Examples of others, and of Events I see elsewhere upon the like Occasion; I find of all sorts, and rely upon the Comparisons are most favourable to me. I receive Health with open Arms, free, full, and entire, and by so much the more whet my Appetite to enjoy it, by how much it is at present less ordinary, and more rare: So far I am from troubling its Repose and Sweetness, with the bitterness of a new and constrained manner of Living. Beasts sufficiently show us, how much the agitation of the Soul brings Infirmities and Diseases upon us. That which is told us of those of Brazile, that they never died but of old Age, is attributed to the Serenity and tranquillity of the Air they live in; but I rather attribute it to the serenity and tranquillity of their Souls, free from all Passion, Thought or Employments, Tentered or Unpleasing, as People that pass over their Lives in an admirable Simplicity and Ignorance, without Letters, without Law, without King, or any manner of Religion. And whence comes that, which we find by Experience, that the greatest and most roughhewn Clowns are the most able, and the most to be desired in amorous Performances? And that the Love of a Muletter, oft renders itself more acceptable than that of a well-bred Man? If it be not, that the Agitation of the Soul, in the later, disturbs his natural Ability, dissolves and tires it, as it also troubles and tires itself. What puts the Soul besides itself, and more usually throws it into Madness, but her own Promptness, Vigour and Agility, and finally, her own proper Force? Of what is the most subtle Folly made, but of the most subtle Wisdom? As great Friendships spring from great Enmities, and vigorous Healths from mortal Diseases: So from the rare and quick Agitations of our Souls, proceed the most wonderful and most depraved Frenzies; 'tis but a half turn of the Toe from the one to the other. In the Actions of mad Men, we see how infinitely that Madness resembles the most vigorous Operations of the Soul. Who does not know how indiscernible the difference is betwixt Folly, and the Elevations of a sprightly Soul, and the Effects of a supreme and extraordinary Virtue? Plato says, that melancholic persons are the most capable of Discipline, and the most excellent, nor indeed is there in any so great a propension to madness. Infinite Wits are ruined by their own proper force and quickness. 
Ariosto.  What a condition, through his own agitation, and promptness of Fancy is one of the most judicious, ingenious, and the best formed Souls to the ancient and true Poesy of any other Italian Poet that has been these very many years, lately fallen into? Has he not great obligation to this Vivacity that has destroyed him? To this Light that has blinded him? To this exact and subtle apprehension of Reason, that has put him besides his Reason? To his curious and laborious Scrutiny after Sciences, that has reduced him to a Brute? And to this rare aptitude to the Exercises of the Soul, that has rendered him without Exercise, and without Soul? I was more angry, if possible, than compassionate, to see him at Ferrara in so pitiful a condition survive himself; forgetting both himself and his Works; which without his knowledge, though before his Face, have been published, deformed and incorrect. Would you have a Man sound, would you have him regular, and in a steady and secure posture? Muffle him up in the shades of Stupidity and Sloth. We must be made Beasts to be made wise, and Hood-winked before we are fit to be led. And if one shall tell me that the advantage of having a cold and stupid Sense of Pains and other Evils, brings this disadvantage along with it, to render us consequently less sensible also in the fruition of Goods and Pleasure: This is true: But the misery of our condition is such, that we have not so much to enjoy, as to avoid, and that the extremest pleasure does not affect us to the degree that a light Grief does: Segnius homines bona, quam mala sentiunr. We are not so sensible of the most perfect Health, as we are of the least Sickness. 

— pungit. 
Lucret.   
In cute vix summa violatum plagula corpus,  
Quando valere nihil quemquam movet. Hoc juvat unum  
Quod me non torquet latus, aut pes: Caetera quisquam  
Vix queat, aut sanum seize, aut sentire valentem.   

The Body with a little stripe is grieved,  
When the most perfect Health is not perceived.  
This only pleases me, that Spleen nor Gout  
Either offend my Side, or wring my Foot,  
Excepting these, scarce any one can tell,  
Or does observe, when he's in Health and Well.   Our Wellbeing is nothing but the privation of Evil. Which is the reason why that Sect of Philosophers, who sets the greatest value upon Pleasure, has yet fixed it chiefly in Insensibility of Pain. To be freed from Ill, is the greatest Good that Man can hope for or desire: According to Eunius. Nimium boni est, cui nihil est mali. For that very tickling and sting, which are in certain Pleasures, and that seem to raise us above simple Health and Insensibility; that active, moving, and, I know not how, itching and biting Pleasure; even that very Pleasure itself levels at nothing but Insensibility, as its mark. The Lust that carries us headlong to women's Embraces, is directed for no other end, but only to cure the Torment of our ardent Desires, and only requires to be glutted and laid at rest, and delivered from that Fever. And so of the rest. I say then, that if Simplicity conducts us to an Estate free from Evil, she leads us to a very happy one, according to our condition. And yet we are not to imagine it so stupid an Insensibility, as to be totally without Sense: For Crantor had very good reason to controvert the Insensibility of Epicurus; if founded so deep, that the very first Attack and Birth of Evils were not to be perceived. I do not approve such an Insensibility, as is neither possible, nor to be desired. I am very well content not to be sick: But if I am, I would, know that I am so; and if a Caustick be applied, or Incisions made in any part, I would feel them. In truth, whoever would take away the knowledge and Sense of Evil, would at the same time eradicate the Sense of Pleasure, and finally annihilate Man himself. Istud nihil dolere, non sine magna mercede contingit immanitatis in animo, stuporis in cord. 
Cicer. Thus. l. 2.  An Insensibility, that is, not to be purchased, but at the Price of the Humanity of the Soul, and of Stupidity in the Body. Evil appertains to Man in turn. Neither is Grief and Pains always to be avoided, nor Pleasure always pursued. 'Tis a great advantage to the Honour of Ignorance, that Knowledge itself throws us into its Arms; when she finds herself puzzled to fortify us against the weight of Evil, she is constrained to come to this Composition, to give us the Reins, and permit us to fly into the Lap of the other, and to shelter ourselves under her Protection from the Strokes and Injuries of Fortune. For what else is her meaning, when she instructs us to divert our Thoughts from the Ills that press upon us, and entertain them with the Meditation of Pleasures past and gone, to comfort ourselves in present Afflictions, with the remembrance of fled Delights, and to call to our succour, a vanished satisfaction, to oppose it to that which lies heavy upon us? Levationes aegritudinum in avocatione à cogit and a molestia, 
Cicer. Thus. l. 3.  & revocatione ad contemplandas voluptas ponit; If it be not that where her power fails, she will supply it with policy, and make use of 'Slight, and a cunning Trip, where the force of Limbs will not serve her turn? For not only to a Philosopher, but to any Man in his right Wits, when he has upon him the Thirst of a burning Fever, what satisfaction can it be to remember the Pleasure of drinking Greek Wine? It would rather be a greater torment to him, 

Che ricordar si il ben doppia la nosa.   


Proverb.  Who so remembers, all he Gains,  
Is, that he doubles his own Pains.   Of the same stamp is this other Counsel that Philosophy gives, only to remember good Fortunes passed, and to forget the Misadventures we have undergone; as if we had the Science of Oblivion in our own Power and Counsel, wherein we are yet more to seek. 
Cicero de Fin. l. 2.  Suavis est laborum praeteritorum memoria. The Memory of past Evil is sweet. How? Does Philosophy that should arm me to contend with Fortune, and steel my Courage to trample all Human Adversities under foot, is she arrived to this degree of Cowardice, to make me hide my head at this rate, and save myself by these pitiful and ridiculous Shifts? For the Memory represents to us, not what we choose, but what she pleases; nay, there is nothing that so much imprints any thing in our Memory, as a desire to forget it: And 'tis a good way to retinue and keep any thing safe in the Soul to solicit her to lose it. 
Cic. de Fin. lib. 1.  And this is false. Est situm in nobis ut & adversa quasi perpetua oblivione obruamus, & secunda jucundè & suaviter meminerimus. And it is in our power to bury, as it were, in a perpetual Oblivion all adverse Accidents, and to retain a pleasant and delightful Memory of our Successes. And this is true, Memini etiam quae nolo: Oblivisci non possum quae volo. I do also remember what I would not; but I cannot forget what I would. And whose Counsel is this? His, qui se unus sapientem profiteri fit ausus. Who only durst profess himself a Wise Man. 

Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit, 
Lucr. l. 3.  & omnes  
Praestrinxit Stellas, exortus uti aetherius Sol.   

Who from Mankind the prize of Knowledge won,  
And put the Stars out like a rising Sun.   To empty and disfurnish the Memory, is not this the true way to Ignorance? 

Iners malorum remedium ignorantia est. 
Senec. Oed. Act. 3.    

Ignorance is but a dull remedy for Evils.   We find several other like Precepts, whereby we are permitted to borrow frivolous apparences from the Vulgar, where we find the greatest reason cannot do the Feat: Provided they administer Satisfaction and Comfort. Where they cannot cure the Wound, they are content to palliate and benumn it. I believe they will not deny this, that if they could add Order and Constancy in an estate of Life that could maintain itself in Ease and Pleasure by some Debility of Judgement they would accept it: 


Horat. Ep. ib. 1. — potare, & spargere flores  
Incipiam, patiàrque vel inconsultus haberi.   

I'll drink and revel like a jovial Lad,  
Though for my pains, the World repute me mad.   There would be a great many Philosophers of Lycus his Mind: This Man being otherwise of very gentle Manners, living quietly and contentedly in his Family, and not failing in any Office of his Duty, either towards his own or Strangers, and very carefully preserving himself from hurtful things, was nevertheless, by some Distemper in his Brains, possessed with a Conceit, that he was perpetually in the Theatre a Spectator of the finest sights, and the best Comedies in the World; and being cured by the Physicians of his Frenzy, had much ado to forbear endeavouring by Suit to compel them to restore him again to his pleasing Imaginations. 


Horat. l. 2. Epist. 2. — pol me occidistis amici  
Non servastis, ait, cui sic extorta voluptas,  
Et demptus per vim mentis gratissimus error.   

By Heaven you have killed me Friends outright,  
And not preserved me, since my dear delight  
And pleasing error, by my better sense  
Unhappily returned, is banished hence.   With a madness like that of Thrasylaus, the Son of Pythodorus, who made himself believe that all the Ships that weighed Anchor from the Port of Pyreum, and that came into the Haven, only made their Voyages for his Profit: Congratulating them for their happy Navigation, and receiving them with the greatest Joy, whom his Brother Crito having caused to be restored to his better Understanding, he infinitely regretted that sort of condition, wherein he had lived with so much delight, and free from all Anxiety of Mind. 'Tis according to the Old Greek Verse, that there is a great deal of convenience in not being over-wise. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And Ecclesiastes, In much Wisdom, 
Learning and Wisdom accompanied with Trouble.  there is much Sorrow: And who gets Wisdom, gets Labour and Trouble. Even that to which Philosophy consents in general, that last Remedy which she applies to all sorts of Necessities, to put an end to the Life, we are not able to endure it. Placet? Pare: Non placet? Quacunque vis exi? 
Cicer. Thus. l. 2.  Pungit dolour? Fodiat sanè: Si nudus es, da jugulum: Sin tectus armis vulcanis, id est fortitudine, resist. Does it please? Obey it. Not please? Go out how thou wilt. Does Grief prick thee? Nay, if it stab thee too: If thou art naked, present thy Throat: If covered with the Arms of Vulcan, that is Fortitude, resist it. And this word so used in the Greek Festivals, aut bibat, aut abeat, That sounds better upon the Tongue of a Gascon, who naturally change the V. into B. than upon that of Cicero; 


Horat. l. 2. Epist. 2.  Vivere si rectè nescis, decede peritis.  
Lusisti satis, edisti satis, atque bibisti:  
Tempus abire tibi est, ne potum largius aequo  
Rideat, & pulset lasciva decentius aetas.   

If to live well, and right thou dost not know,  
Give place, and leave thy Room to those that do,  
thoust eaten, drank, and played to thy content,  
'Tis time to make thy parting Compliment,  
Lest, being over-dosed, the younger sort  
Laugh at thee first, and than exclude thee for't.   What is it other than a Confession of his Impotency, and a sending back not only to Ignorance, to be there in safety, but even to Stupidity, Insensibility, and Nonentity? 


Luc. l. 3.  Democritum postquàm matura vetustas  
Admonuit memorem, motus languescere mentis:  
Sponte sua letho caput obvius obtulit ipse.   

Soon as through Age Democritus did find  
A manifest Decadence in his Mind,  
He thought he now survived to his own wrong.  
And went to meet his Death that stayed too long.   'Tis what Antisthenes said, That a Man must either make provision of Sense to understand; Or of a Halter to hang himself: And what Crysippus alleged upon this Saying of the Poet Tyrteus, 

De la vertu, ou de mort approcher. 
Plutarch.    

Or to arrive at Virtue, or at Death.   And Crates said, 
How Love is to be cured.  That Love would be cured by Hunger, if not by time: And whoever disliked these two Remedies, by a With. That Sextius of whom both Seneca and Plutarch speak with so high an Encomium, having applied himself (all other things set aside) to the Study of Philosophy, resolved to throw himself into the Sea, seeing the Progress of his Studies too tedious and slow. He ran to find Death, since he could not overtake Knowledge. These are the words of the Law upon this Subject. If peradventure some great inconvenience happen, for which there is no remedy, the Haven is near, and a Man may save himself by swimming out of his Body, as out of a leaky Skiff; for 'tis the Fear of Dying, and not the Love of Life, that ties the Fool to his Body. As Life renders itself by Simplicity more pleasant, so more innocent and better, as I was saying before. The simple and ignorant, says St. Paul, raise themselves up to Heaven, and take possession of it, and we with all our Knowledge, plunge ourselves into the infernal Abyss. I am neither swayed by Valentinian, a professed Enemy to all Knowledge and Literature; nor by Licinius, both Roman Emperors, who called them the Poison and Pest of all Politic Governments: Nor by Mahomet, who (as 'tis said) interdicted all manner of Learning to his Followers: But the Example of the Great Lycurgus, 
The Lacedaemonian Policy without Letters.  and his Authority, with the Reverence of the Divine Lacedaemonian Policy, so great, so admirable, and so long flourishing in Virtue and Happiness without any Institution or Practice of Letters, ought certainly to be of very great weight. Such as return from the new World, discovered by the Spaniards in our Father's days, can testify to us, how much more honestly and regularly those Nations live without Magistrate, 
The new World without Law or Magistrate.  and without Law, than ours do, where there are more Officers and Laws, than there are of other sorts of Men, and Business. 


Ariosto. Can. 15.  Dicittatorie & di libelli,  
D'esamine & di cart, di procure  
Hanno le many & i'll seno, & gran fastalli  
Di chiose, di consigli & di letture,  
Percui le faculta de poverelli  
Non seno mai ne le citta sicure,  
Hanno dietro & dinanzi & d'ambi i lati,  
Notai procuratori & advocati.   


Sir John Harrrington Trans.  Her Lap was full of Writs and of Citations,  
Of process of Actions and Arrest,  
Of Bills, of Answers, and of Replications,  
In Courts of Delegates and of Requests,  
To grieve the simple sort with great Vexations:  
She had resorting to her as her Guests,  
Attending on her Circuits and her Journeys.  
scriveners and Clerks, and Lawyers and Attorneys.   It was what a Roman Senator said of the later Ages, that their Predecessors Breath stunk of Garlic, but their Stomaches were perfumed with a good Conscience: And that on the contrary, those of his time were all sweet Odour without, but stunk within of all sorts of Vices, that is to say, as I interpret it, that they abounded with Learning and Eloquence, but were very defective in moral Honesty. Incivility, Ignorance, Simplicity and Roughness, are the Natural Companions of Innocency: Curiosity, Subtlety and Knowledge bring Malice in their Train: Humility, Fear, Obedience and Affability (which are the principal things that support and maintain Human Society) require an empty and docile Soul, and little presuming upon itself. Christians have a particular Knowledge, how Natural and Original an evil Curiosity is in Man. The Thirst of Knowledge, and the Desire to become more Wise, was the first ruin of Humankind, and the way by which he precipitated himself into Eternal Damnation. Pride was his ruin and corruption: ' is Pride that diverts from the Common Path, and makes him embrace Novelties, and rather choose to be Head of a Troop, lost and wand'ring in the Path of Error, to be Regent and a Teacher of Lies, than to be a Disciple in the School of Truth, suffering himself to be led and guided by the hand of another, in the right and beaten Road. 'Tis, peradventure, the meaning of this old Greek saying, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
Socrates apud Stobaeum.  That Superstition follows Pride, and obeys it as if it were a Father. O Presumption, how much dost thou hinder us! After that, Socrates was told, That the God of Wisdom had attributed to him the Title of a Sage, he was astonished at it, and searching and examining himself throughout, could find no Foundation for this Divine Sentence. He knew others as just, temperate, valiant and learned as himself: And more eloquent, more handsome, and more profitable to their Country, than he. At last he concluded, that he was not distinguished from others, nor wise, but only because he did not think himself so. And that his God considered the Opinion of Knowledge and Wisdom as a singular Brutality in Man; and that his best Doctrine was the Doctrine of Ignorance, and Simplicity the best Wisdom. The Sacred Word declares those Miserable, who have an Opinion of themselves: Dust and Ashes, says it to such, What hast thou wherein to Glorify thyself? And in another place, God has made Man like unto a Shadow, of whom, who can judge, when by the removing of the Light, it shall be vanished? Man is a thing of nothing, whose Force is so far from being able to comprehend the Divine Height: That of the Works of our Creator, those best bear his Mark, and are with better Title, his, which we the least understand. To meet with an incredible thing, is an Occasion to Christians to believe; and it is so much the more according to reason, by how much it is against Human Reason. If it were according to reason, it would be no more a singular thing. Melius scitur Deus nesciendo, says St. Austin, 
Diu. Aug. l. 2. de ord.  God is better known by not knowing. And Tacitus, 
Tacit. de mor. Germ.  Sanctius est ac reverentius de actis Deorum credere quam scire. It is more Holy and Reverend to believe the Works of God, than to know them. And Plato thinks there is something of Impiety in it, to require too curiously into God, the World, and first Causes of things. Atque illum quidem parentem hujus Viversitatis invenire, difficile: Et, quum jam inveneris, indicare in vulgus, nefas, says Cicero. 
Cice in Freg.  To find out the Parent of the World, is very hard. And when found out to reveal him to the Vulgar, is Sin. We pronounce indeed Power, Truth and Justice, which are words that signify some great thing; but that thing we neither see, nor conceive at all. We say that God fears, that God is angry, and that God loves: 

Immortalia mortali sermone notantes. 
Lucr. l. 5.    

Giving to things immortal mortal Names.   Which are all Agitations and Emotions, that cannot be in God according to our Form, nor we imagine it according to his; it only belongs to God to know himself, and to interpret his own Works; and he does it in our Language, improperly, to stoop and descend to who grovel upon the Earth. How can Prudence, which is the Choice betwixt Good and Evil, be properly attributed to him, whom no Evil can touch? How the Reason and Intelligence which we make use of, by obscure to arrive at apparent things: Seeing that nothing is obscure to him? And Justice which distributes to every one what appertains to him, a thing begot by the Society and Community of Men, how is that in God? How Temperance? Which is the Moderation of Corporal Pleasures, that have no place in the Divinity? Fortitude to support Pain, Labour, and Dangers as little appertains to him as the rest, these three things having no access to him. For which reason, Aristotle holds him equally exempt from Virtue and Vice. Neque gratia, neque ira teneri potest, quod quae talia essent, 
Cicer. de Nat. Deorum.  imbecilla essent omnia. He can neither be affected with Favour nor Indignation, because both those are the effects of Frailty. The Participation we have in the knowledge of Truth, such as it is, is not acquired by our own ●orce. God has sufficiently given us to understand that, by the Witness he has chosen out of the common people, simple and ignorant Men, that he has been pleased to employ, to instruct us in his admirable Secrets: Our Faith is not of our own acquiring, 'tis purely the Gift of an others Bounty. 'Tis not by Meditation, or by Virtue of our own Understanding, that we have acquired our Religion, but by Foreign Authority and Command, wherein the Imbecility of our Judgement does more assist us than the Force, and our Blindness more than our Clearness of Sight. 'Tis more by the Meditation of our Ignorance than our Knowledge, that we know any thing of the Divine Wisdom. 'Tis no wonder, if our Natural and Earthly parts cannot conceive that Supernatural and heavenly Knowledge: Let us bring nothing of our own, but Obedience and Subjection. For, as it is written, 
1 Cor. Ch. 1. Ver. 19, 20, 21.  I will destroy the Wisdom of the Wise, and will bring to nothing the Understanding of the Prudent. Where is the Wise? Where is this Scribe? Where is the Disputer of this World? Hath not God made Foolish the Wisdom of this World. For after that in the Wisdom of God, the World knew not God, it pleased God by the Foolishness of preaching to save them that believe. Finally, should I examine whether it be in the power of Man to find out that which he seeks, and if that Quest, wherein he has busied himself so many Ages, has enriched him with any new Force, or any solid Truth: I believe he will confess, if he speaks from his Conscience, that all he has got by so long an Inquisition, is only to have learned to know his own Weakness. We have only by a long Study confirmed and verified the Natural Ignorance we were in before. The same has fallen out to Men truly Wise, which befalls Ears of Corn; they shoot and raise their heads high and pert, whilst empty; but when full and swelled with Grain in Maturity, begin to flag and droop. So Men having tried and sounded all things, and not having found that Mass of Knowledge, and Provision of so many various things, nothing massy and firm, and nothing but Vanity, have quitted their Presumption, and acknowledged their Natural Condition. 'Tis that, Velleius reproaches Cotta withal and Cicero, that they learned of Philo, they had learned nothing. Pherecydes, one of the seven Sages, writing to Thales upon his Deathbed; I have, said he, given order to my people, after my innterment to carry my Writings to thee. If they please thee, and the other Sages, publish, if not, suppress them. They contain no certainty with which I myself am satisfied. Neither do I pretend to know the truth, or to attain unto it. I more open, than discover things. The wisest Man that ever was, being asked what he knew, made answer, He knew this, that he knew nothing. By which, he verified what has been said, that the greatest part of what we know, is the least of what we do not know; that is to say, that even what we think, we know, is but a piece, and a very little one, of our Ignorance. We know things in Dreams, 
Cicer. Acad. lib. 1.  says Plato, and are ignorant of them in Truth. Omnes penè Veteres nihil cognosci, nihil percipi, nihil sciri posse dixerunt: Angustos sensus, imbecilles animos, brevia curricula vitae. Almost all the Ancients have declared, that there is nothing to be known, nothing to be understood: The Senses are too weak; men's Minds too weak, and the little course of Life too short. And of Cicero himself, who stood indebted to his Learning for all he was worth, Valerius says, that he began to disrelish Letters in his old Age. And when most incumbent upon his Studies, it was with great Independency upon any one Party; following what he thought probable, now in one Sect, and then in another, evermore wavering under the Doubts of the Academy. Dicendum est, sed ita ut nihil affirmem, quaeram omnia, dubitans plerumque, 
Cicero Acad.  & mihi diffidens. I am to speak, but so as to affirm nothing: I shall inquire into all things, but for the most part in doubt and distrust of myself. I should have too fair a Game, should I consider Man in his common way of Living and in Gross: And might do it however by his own Rule; who judges Truth, not by Weight, but by the number of Votes. Let us let the People alone, 

— Qui vigilans start it. 
Lucret▪ l. 3.   
Mortua cui vita est, propè jam atque videnti.   

Who waking snore; whose life is but a Dream:  
Who only living and awake do seem.   who neither feel nor judge; and let most of their natural Faculties lie idle. I will take man in his highest Station. Let us consider him in that little number of men, excellent and culled out from the rest, who having been endowed with a remarkable and particular natural Force, have moreover hardened and whetted it by Care, Study and Art, and raised it to the highest Pitch of Wisdom, to which it can possibly arrive. They have adjusted their Souls to all Senses, and all Biasses; have propped and supported them with all foreign Helps proper for them, and enriched and adorned them with all they could borrow for their Advantage, both within and without the World: Those are they that are placed in the utmost and most supreme height, to which human Nature can attain. They have regulated the World with Polities and Laws. They have instructed it with Arts and Sciences, and do yet instruct it by the Example of their admirable Manners. I shall make account of none but such men as these, and only make use of their Testimony and Experience. Let us examine how far they have proceeded, and on what they reposed their surest hold. The Maladies and Defects that we shall find amongst these men, the world may boldly declare to be purely their own. Whoever goes in search of any thing, must come to this, either to say that he has found it out, or that it is not to be found out, or that he is yet upon the Quest. All Philosophy is divided into these three Kind's. All her Design is to seek out Truth, Knowledge and Certainty. The Peripatetics, Epicureans, Stoics and others, have thought they have found it. These have established the Sciences, and have treated of them, as of certain Knowledges. Clitomachus, Carneades, and the Academics, have despaired in their Quest, and concluded that Truth could not be conceived by our Understandings. The result of these are Weakness and human Ignorance. This Sect has had the most, and most noble Followers. Pyrrho and other Sceptics, whose Doctrines were held by many of the Ancients, taken from Homer, the seven Sages, Archilocus, Euripides, Zeno, Democritus and Xenophones, say, that they are yet upon the Search of Truth. These conclude, that the other, who think they have found it out, are infinitely deceived; and that it is too daring a Vanity in the second sort, to determine that human Reason is not able to attain unto it. For this establishing a Standard of our Power, to know and judge the Difficulty of things, is a great and extreme Knowledge, of which they doubt whether or no man can be capable. 

Nil sciri quisquis putat, id quoque nescit,  
An sciri possit, quo se nil scire fatetur. 
Lucret. l. 4.    

He that says, nothing can be known, 
Mr. Creech  overthrows  
His own Opinion, for he nothing knows,  
So knows not that.   The Ignorance that knows itself, judges and condemns itself, is not an absolute Ignorance: Which to be, it must be ignorant of itself. So that the Profession of the Pyrrhonians is to waver, doubt and inquire, not to make themselves sure of, or responsible to themselves for any thing. Of the three Actions of the Soul, the Imaginative, Appetitive, and the Consenting, they receive the two first; the last they keep ambiguous, without Inclination or Approbation, either of one thing or another, so light and voluble it is. Zeno represented the Motion of his Imagination, upon these divisions of the Faculties of the Soul, an open and expanded Hand signified Appearance: A Hand half shut, and the Fingers a little bending, Consent: A clutched Fist, Comprehension: When with the left he yet thrust the Fist closer, Knowledge. Now this situation of their Judgement upright and inflexible, receiving all Objects without Application, or Consent, lead them to their Ataraxie, which is a peaceable Condition of Life, 
Ataraxie what.  temperate and exempt from the Agitations we receive by the Impression of Opinion and Knowledge, that we think we have of things. From whence spring F●ar, Avarice, Envy, immoderate Desires, Ambition, Pride, Superstition, love of Novelty, Rebellion, Disobedience, Obstinacy, and the greatest part of bodily Ills: Nay, and by that they are exempt from the Jealousy of their Discipline. For they debate after a very gentle manner. They fear no Revenge in their Disputes. 
Doubt and suspense of Judgement, the principal Effect of Pyrrhonism.  When they affirm that heavy things descend; they would be sorry to be believed, and love to be contradicted, to engender doubt and suspense of Judgement, which is their End. They only put out Propositions to contend with those they think we have in our Belief. If you take their Arguments, they will as readily maintain the contrary: 'Tis all one to them, they have no Choice. If you maintain that Snow is Black, they will argue on the contrary that it is White; if you say it is neither the one nor the other, they will maintain that 'tis both. If you hold by a certain Judgement that you know nothing, they will maintain that you do. Yes, and if by an affirmative Axiom you assure them that you doubt; they will argue against you, that you doubt not; or that you cannot judge and determine that Doubt. And by this extremity of Doubt, which justles itself, they separate and divide themselves from many Opinions, even of those they have several ways maintained, both concerning Doubt and Ignorance. Why shall not they be allowed, say they, as well as the Dogmatists, one to say Green, another Yellow, and even of those to doubt? Can any thing be proposed to us to grant, or deny, which it shall not be permitted to consider as Ambiguous? And where others are carried away, either by the Custom of their Country, or by the Instruction of Parents, or by Accident, as by a Tempest, without Judgement, and without Choice; nay, and for the most part, before the Age of Discretion to such or such an Opinion, to the Sect of the Stoics or Epicureans, with which they are prepossessed, 
Cicer. Acad.  enslaved and fast Bound, as to a thing they cannot forsake: Ad quamcumque disciplinam, velut tempestate, delati, ad eam, tanquam ad saxum, adhaerescunt. Every one cleaves to his Principles, as to a Rock against which he had been thrown by Tempest. Why shall not these likewise be permitted to maintain their Liberty, and consider things without Obligation or Slavery? Hoc liberiores & solutiores, quod integra illis est iudicandi potestas. In this more unconstrained and free, because they have the greater Power of Judging. Is it not of some Advantage, to be disengaged from the Necessity that curbs others? Is it not better to remain in Suspense, than to entangle himself in the innumerable Errors that human Fancy has produced? Is it not much better to suspend the Persuasion, than to intermeddle with these wrangling and seditious Divisions? What shall I choose? What you please, provided you will choose. A very foolish Answer: But such a one nevertheless, as all Doctrine seems to point at, and by which we are not permitted to be ignorant of what we are ignorant. Take the most eminent Side, that of the greatest Reputation; it will never be so sure, that you shall not be forced to attack and contend with a hundred and a hundred Adversaries to defend it. Is it not better to keep out of this Hurly-burly? You are permitted to embrace Aristotle's Opinion of the Immortality of the Soul, 
The Immortality of the Soul maintained by Aristotle.  with as much Zeal as your Honour and Life, and to give the Lie to Plato, and shall they be interdicted to doubt him? If it be lawful for Panetius to maintain his Opinion about Augury, Dreams, Oracles, Vaticinations; of which the Stoics make no doubt at all; why may not a wise Man dare to do the same in all things, that he dared to do in those he had learned of his Masters, established by the common Consent of the School, whereof he is a Professor and a Member? If it be a Child that judges, he knows not what it is: If a wise Man, he is Prepossessed. They have reserved for themselves a marvellous Advantage in Battle, having eased themselves of the care of Defence. If you strike them they care not, provided they strike too, and they turn every thing to their own Advantage. If they overcome, your Argument is Lame; if you, theirs: If they fall short, they verify Ignorance; if you fall short, you do it: If they prove, that nothing is known, it goes well; if they cannot prove it, 'tis as well: Vt quum in eadem re paria contrariis in partibus momenta inveniuntur, facilius ab utraque parte Assertio sustineatur. That when like Sentiments happen pro and con in the same thing, the Assertion may on both sides be more easily suspended. And they make account to find out with much greater Facility why a thing is false, than why 'tis true, that which is not, than that that is, and what they do not believe, than what they do. Their way of speaking is, I assert nothing, it is no more so, than so, or than neither one nor tother: I understand it not. Apparences are every where equal: The Law of speaking pro or con, is the same. Nothing seems true, that may not seem false. Their Sacramental Word is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is to say, I hold, I start not. This is the burden of their Song, and others of like stuff. The effect of which is a pure, entire, perfect and absolute suspension of Judgement. They make use of their Reason to inquire and debate, but not to fix and determine. Whoever shall imagine a perpetual Confession of Ignorance, a Judgement without Bias, Propension or Inclination, upon any Occasion whatever, conceives a true Idea of Pyrrhonism. I express this Fancy as well as I can, by reason, that many find it hard to conceive, and Authors themselves represent it a little variously and obscurely. As to what concerns the Actions of Life, they are in this of the common Fashion. They yield and give up themselves to their natural Inclinations, to the Power and Impulse of Passions, to the Constitution of Laws and Customs, and to the Tradition of Arts. 
Cicer. de Divin. l. 61.  Non enim nos Deus ista scire sed tantummodo uti voluit. For God would not have us know, but only use those things. They suffer their ordinary Actions to be guided by those things, without any Dispute or Judgement. For which Reason I cannot consent to what is said of Pyrrho. They represent him stupid and immoovable, leading a kind of Savage and Insociable Life, standing the justle of Carts, going upon Precipices, and refusing to accommodate himself to the Laws. This is to enhance upon his Discipline. He would never make himself a Stock or a Stone, he would show himself a living Man, Discoursing, Reasoning, Enjoying all natural Conveniences and Pleasures, employing and making use of all his corporal and spiritual Faculties in Rule and Reason. The fantastic, imaginary and false Privileges that Man has usurped of Lording it, Ordaining and Establishing, he has utterly quitted and renounced. Yet there is no Sect but is constrained to permit her Sage to follow several things, not Comprehended, Perceived, or Consented to, if he means to live. And if he goes to Sea, he follows that Design, not knowing whether his Voyage shall be successful or no; and only insists upon the Tightness of the Vessel, the Experience of the Pilot, and the Convenience of the Season, and such probable Circumstances. After which he is bound to go, and suffer himself to be governed by Apparences, provided there be no express and manifest Contrariety in them. He has a Body, he has a Soul, the Senses push them, the Mind spurs them on. And although he do not find in himself this proper and singular sign of Judging, and that he does perceive that he ought not to engage his Consent, considering that there may be some false, equal to these true Apparences, yet does he not for all that fail of carrying on the Offices of his Life with great Liberty and Convenience. How many Arts are there that profess to consist more in Conjecture than Knowledge? That decide not true and false, and only follow that, which seems the one or the other? There are, say they, true and false, and we have in us wherewith to seek it; but not to make it stay when we touch it. We are much more prudent, in letting ourselves be carried away by the swing of the World without Inquisition. A Soul clear from Prejudice, has a marvelous Advance towards Tranquillity and Repose. Men that judge and control their Judges, do never duly submit to them. How much more docile and easy to be governed, both in the Laws of Religion and civil Polity, are simple and incurious Minds, than those over-vigilant Wits, that will still be prating of Divine and Human Causes? There is nothing in human Invention, that carries so great a show of likelihood and utility as this. This present Man, naked and empty, confessing his natural Weakness, fit to receive some foreign Force from above, unfurnished of Human, and therefore more apt to receive into him the Divine Knowledge, undervaluing his own Judgement, to make more Room for Faith: Neither believing amiss, nor establishing any Doctrine against the Laws and common Observances, Humble, Obedient, Disciplinable, Studious, a sworn Enemy of Heresy; and consequently, freeing himself from vain and irreligious Opinions, introduced by false Sects, Sectaries and Heretics. 'Tis a blank Paper prepared to receive such Forms from the Finger of God, as he shall please to write upon it. The more we resign and commit ourselves to God, and the more we renounce ourselves, of the greater value we are. Take in good part, says Eclesiastes, the things that present themselves to thee, as they seem and taste from Hand to Mouth: The rest is out of thy Knowledge. Dominus novit cogitationes hominum, quoniam vanae sunt. 
Psal. 94.  The Lord knoweth the Heart of Men, that they are but Vanity. Thus we see, that of three general Sects of Philosophy, two make open profession of Doubt and Ignorance, and in that of the Dogmatists, which is the third, it is easy to discover, that the greatest part of them only assume this face of Confidence and Assurance, that they may have the better Grace. They have not so much thought to establish any Certainty for us, as to show us how far they have proceeded in their search of Truth, quam docti fingunt magis quam norunt. Which the learned rather feign than know. Timaeus being to instruct Socrates in what he knew of the Gods, the World and Men, proposes to speak to him as a Man to a Man, and that it is sufficient, if his Reasons are probable, as those of another: For that exact Reason were neither in his, nor any other mortal Hand. Which one of his Followers has thus imitated: Vt potero, explicabo; nec tamen ●t Pythius Apollo, certa ut sint, & fixa, 
Cicero Thus lib. 1.  quae dixero: Sed ut homunculus, probabilia conjectura sequens. I will, as well as I am able, explain; yet not as Pythius Apollo, that what I say, should be fixed and certain, but like a Man that follows Probabilities by Conjecture. And that other, upon the natural and common Subject of the Contempt of Death, he has elsewhere translated from the very Words of Plato. Si fortè, de Diorum natura ortumque Mundi disserentes, 
Cicero in Timaeo.  minus id quod habemus in animo consequimur, haud erit mirum. Aequum est enim meminisse, & me qui disseram, hominem esse, & vos qui judicetis: Vt si probabilia dicentur, nihil ultra requiratis. If perchance, when we discourse of the Nature of Gods, and the World's Original, we cannot do it as we desire, it will be no great Wonder. For it is just you should remember, that both I who speak, and you who are to judge are Men: So that if probable things are delivered, you should require and expect no more. Aristotle does ordinarily heap up a great number of other Opinions and Beliefs, to compare them with his own, and to let us see how much he has gone beyond them, and how much nearer he approaches to Possibility and likelihood of Truth. For Truth is not to be judged by the Authority and Testimony of others; which made Epicurus religiously avoid quoting them in his Writings. This is the Prince of all Dogmatists, and yet we are told by him, that much Knowledge does administer many Occasions of doubting more. In earnest, we see him sometimes so shroud and muffle up himself in so thick and so inexplicable Obscurity, that we know not what use to make of his Advice. It is in effect a Pyrrhonism under a concluding and determining Form. Hear Cicero's Protestation, who expounds to us another's Fancy by his own. Qui requirunt, quid de quaque re ipsi sentiamus: 
Cicero de Nat. Deo. lib. 1.  curiosius id faciunt, quam necesse est. Haec Philosophiae ratio, contra omnia disserendi, nullamque rem apertè judicandi, profecta à Socrates, repetita ab Arcesilao, confirmata à Carneade, usque ad nostram viget aetatem. Hi sumus, qui omnibus veris falsa quaedam adjuncta esse dicamus, tanta similitudine, ut in iis nulla insit judicandi, & assentiendi nota. They who desire to know what we think of every thing; are therein more inquisitive than is necessary. This Practice in Philosophy, of disputing against every thing, and of absolutely concluding nothing, begun by Socrates, repeated by Arcesilaus, and confirmed by Carneades, has continued in use even to our own times. We are they, who declare that there is so great a Mixture of things false, amongst all that are true, and they so resemble one another, that there can be in them no certain Mark to direct us, either to judge or assent. Why have not Aristotle only, but the most of Philosophers, affected Difficulty, if not to set a greater Value upon the Vanity of the Subject, and amuse the Curiosity of our Wits, by giving them this Bone to Pick. Clitomachus affirmed, that he could never discover by Carneades Writings, what Opinion he was of. This was it that made Epicurus affect to be Abstruse, and that procured Heraclitus the Epithet to his Name of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 
Obscure.  Difficulty is a Coin the Learned make use of, like Jugglers, to conceal the Vanity of their Art, and which human Sottishness easily takes for currant Pay. 

Clarus ob obscuram linguam, magis inter inanes: 
Lueret. l. 1.   
Omnia enim stolida magis admirantur amántque,  
Inversis quae sub verbis latitantia cernunt.   

Bombast and Riddle, best do Puppies please,  
For Fools admire and love such things as these.  
And a dull Quibble wrapped in dubious Phrase;  
That to the height does their wise Wonder raise.   Cicero reprehends some of his Acquaintance and Friends, for giving more of their Time to the Study of Astrology, Law, Logic, and Geometry, than they were really worth; saying, that they were by those diverted from the Duties of Life, and from more profitable and gentile Studies. The Cyrenaic Philosophers did equally despise natural Philosophy and Logic. Zeno, in the very beginning of the Books of the Commonwealth, 
The liberal Art despised.  declared all the liberal Arts of no use. Chrysippus said, that what Plato and Aristotle had writ concerning Logic, they had only done it in Sport, and by way of Exercise: And could not believe, that they spoke in earnest of so vain a thing. Plutarch says the same of Metaphysics: And Epicurus would have said as much of Rhetoric, Grammar, Poesy, Mathematics, and (Natural Philosophy excepted) of all the other Sciences; and Socrates of them all, excepting that of Manners and of Life. Whatever any one required to be instructed in by him, he would ever, in the first place, demand an account of the Conditions of his Life present and past, which he examined and judged; esteeming all other Learning subsequent to that, and supernumerary. 
Sal. de Bello Jug.  Parum mihi placeant eae literae, quae ad virtutem Doctoribus nihil profuerunt. That Learning is in small repute with me, which nothing profited the Teachers themselves to Virtue. Most of the Arts have been in like manner decried by the same Knowledge. But they did not consider that it was from the purpose, to exercise their Wits in those very matters wherein, there was no solid Advantage. As to the rest: Some have looked upon Plato as a Dogmatist, others as a Doubter, others in some things the one, and in other things the other. Socrates, the Introducer of Dialogismes, is eternally upon Questions and stirring up Disputes, never determining, never satisfying: And professes to have no other Science but that of opposing himself. Homer, their Author, has equally laid the Foundations of all the Sects of Philosophy, to show how indifferent it was, which way we should choose. 'Tis said, that ten several Sects sprung from Plato; and in my Opinion, never did any Instruction halt and stumble, if his does not: Socrates said, that 
* Called Wise Women in French.  Midwives in taking upon them the trade of helping others to bring forth, left the Trade of bringing forth themselves; and that he by the Title of a wise Man or Sage, that the God's had conferred upon him, was disabled in his virile and mental Love, of the Faculty of bringing forth, consenting to help and assist those that could; to open their Nature, anoint the Passes, and facilitate their Birth: To judge of the Infant, Kiss, Nourish, Fortify, Swath, and Circumcise it, exercising and employing his Understanding in the Perils and Fortunes of others. It is so with the most part of this third sort of Authors, as the Ancients have observed in the Writings of Anaxagoras, Democritus, Parmenides, Zenophanes and others. They have a way of Writing, doubtful in Substance and Design, rather enquiring than teaching; though they mix their Style with some Dogmatical Periods. Is not the same thing seen in Seneca and Plutarch? How many Contradictions are there to be found, if a Man pry narrowly into them? So many, that the reconciling Lawyers ought first to reconcile them every one to themselves. Plato seems to have affected this Method of Philosophising in Dialogues; to the end, that he might with greater Decency from several Mouths, deliver the Diversity and Variety of his own Fancies. To treat variously of things, is as well to treat of them, as conformably, and better, that is to say, more copiously, and with greater Profit. Let us take Example from ourselves. Judgements are the utmost Period of all Dogmatical and determinative speaking: And yet those Arrests that our Parliaments give the People, the most exemplary of them, and those are most proper to nourish in them the Reverence due to that Dignity, principally through the Sufficiency of the Persons Acting, derive their Beauty, not so much from the Conclusion, which with them is quotidien and common to every Judge, as from the Dispute and Heat of divers and contrary Arguments, that the matter of Law and Equity will permit. And the largest Field for Reprehension, that some Philosophers have against others, is drawn from the Diversities and Contradictions, wherein every one of them finds himself Perplexed: Either on purpose to show the Vacillation of human Wit concerning every thing; or ignorantly compelled by the Volability and Incomprehensibility of all Matter. What means this Clinck in the Close? In a slippery and sliding place let us suspend our Belief: For as Euripedes says. 


Plutarch.  Les oewres de Dieu en diverses  
Façons', nous donnent des Traverses.   

The works of God in sundry wise,  
Do puzzle men's Capacities.   Like that which Empedocles; as if rapt with a Divine Fury, and compelled by Truth, often strewed here and there in his Writings. No no, we feel nothing, we see nothing, all things are concealed from us; there is not one thing, of which we can positively say, it is this: According to the Divine saying, Cogitationes mortalium timidae, & incertae adinventiones nostrae, & providentiae. For the Thoughts of mortal Men are Miserable; 
Wisdom c. 9 v. 14.  and our Devices are but uncertain. It is not to be thought strange, if Men, despairing to overtake what they hunt after, have not however lost the Pleasure of the Chase; Study being of itself so pleasant an Employment, and so Pleasant, that amongst other Pleasures, the Stoics forbid that also which proceeds from the Exercise of the Wit, will have it curbed, and find a kind of Intemperance in thirsting too much after Knowledge. Democritus having eaten Figs at his Table that tasted of Honey, fell presently to Considering with himself, from whence they should derive this unusual Sweetness; and to be satisfied in it, was about to rise from the Table, to see the place from whence the Figs had been gathered? Which his Maid observing, and having understood the Cause, she smilingly told him, that he need not trouble himself about that, for she had put them into a Vessel, in which there had been Honey. He was vexed at this Discovery, and that she had deprived him of the Occasion of this Inquisition, and robbed his Curiosity of Matter to work upon. Go thy way, said he, thou hath done me an Injury; but for all that, I will seek out the Cause as if it were natural; and would willingly have found out some true Reason, for a false and imaginary Effect. This Story of a famous and great Philosopher does very clearly represent to us the studious Passion, that puts us upon the pursuit of things, of the Acquisition of which we despair. Plutarch gives a like Example of some one, who would not be satisfied in that whereof he was in Doubt, that he might not lose the Pleasure of enquiring into it: Like the other, who would not that his Physician should allay the Thirst of his Fever, that he might not lose the Pleasure of quenching it by drinking. Satius est supervacua discere, 
Seneca. Epist. 89.  quam nihil. 'Tis better to learn more than is necessary, than nothing at all. As in all sorts of feeding, the Pleasure of eating is very often single and alone, and that what we take, which is acceptable to the Palate, is not always nourishing or wholesome: So that which our Understandings extract from Science, does not cease to be Pleasant, though there be nothing in it, either nutritive or healthful. Thus, they say, the consideration of Nature is a Diet proper for our Minds, it raises and elevates us, makes us disdain low and terrestrial Things, by comparing them with those that are Celestial and high: Even the Inquisition of great and occult things is very Pleasant, even to those who acquire no other Benefit, than the Reverence and Fear of judging it. This is what they Profess. The vain Image of this sickly Curiosity is yet more manifest in this other Example, that they so often urge. Eudoxus wished and begged of the Gods, that he might once see the Sun near at Hand, to comprehend the Form, Greatness and Beauty of it; on the Condition to be immediately burned. He would at the Price of his Life purchase a Knowledge, of which the Use and Possession should at the same time be taken from him: And for this sudden and vanishing Knowledge, lose all the other Knowledges he had in present, or might afterwards have acquired. I cannot easily persuade myself, that Epicurus, Plato and Pythagoras, have given us their Atoms, Ideas and Numbers for currant Pay. They were too wise to establish their Articles of Faith upon things so Disputable and so Incertain: But in the Obscurity and Ignorance the World then was, every one of these great Men endeavoured to present some kind of Image or Reflection of Light; and worked their Brains for Inventions, that might have a pleasant and subtle Appearance; provided, that false as they were, they might make good their Ground against those that would oppose them. Vnicuique ista pro ingenio singuntur, non ex scientiae vi. These things every one fancies according to his Wit, and not by any power of Knowledge. One of the Ancients, who was reproached, That he professed Philosophy, of which he nevertheless in his own Judgement made no great Account. Made Answer, That that was truly to Philosophise: They would consider all, and balance every thing, and have found that an Employment well suited to our natural Curiosity. Some things they have writ for the benefit of public Society, as their Religions, and for that Consideration it was but reasonable, that they should not examine public Opinions to the Quick, that they might not disturb the common Obedience to the Laws and Customs of their Country. Plato treats of this Mystery with a Raillery manifest enough. For where he writes according to his own Method; he gives no certain Rule. When he plays the Legislator, he borrows a magisterial and positive Style, and boldly there foists in his most fantastic Inventions, as fit to persuade the Vulgar, as impossible to be believed by himself: Knowing very well, how fit we are to receive all sorts of Impressions, especially the most immoderate and wicked. And yet in his Laws, he takes singular Care that nothing be sung in Public but Poetry; of which, the Fiction and fabulous Relations tend to some advantageous End: It being so easy to imprint all sorts of Phantasms in human Minds, that it were Injustice not to feed them rather with profitable Untruths, than with Untruths that are unprofitable and hurtful. He says very plainly in his Commonwealth, that it is very oft necessary for the profit of Men, to deceive them. It is very easy to distinguish, that some of the Sects have more followed Truth, and the others Utility, by which the last have gained their Reputation. 'Tis the misery of our Condition, that often that which presents itself to our Imagination for the most true, does not appear the most utile to Life. The boldest Sects, as the Epicurean, Pyrrhonian, and the new Academic, are yet constrained to submit to the Civil Law, at the end of the Account. Other Subjects there are, that they have tumbled and tossed some to the right, and others to the left, every one endeavouring, right or wrong, to give them some kind of Colour; for having found nothing so Abstruse, they would not venture to speak to: They are very often forced to forge weak and ridiculous Conjectures; not that they themselves looked upon them as any Foundation, or establish any certain Truth, but merely for Exercise. Non tam id sensisse, quod dicerent, 
Incerto.  quam exercere ingenia materiae difficultate videntur voluisse: Not so much, that they themselves believed what they said, as that they seem to have a mind to exercise their Wits in the Difficulty of the matter. And if we did not take it thus, how should we palliate so great Inconstancy, Variety, and Vanity of Opinions, as we see have been produced by those excellent and admirable Souls? For for Example, what can be more Vain than to imagine to guests at Almighty God by our Analogies and Conjectures? To direct and govern him and the World, by our Capacities and our Laws? And to serve ourselves at the Expense of the Divinity, with that small Portion of Knowledge he has been pleased to impart to our natural Condition? And because we cannot extend our Sight to his glorious Throne, to have brought him down to our Corruption, and our Miseries? Of all human and ancient Opinions concerning Religion, that seems to me the most likely, and most excusable, that acknowledged God an Incomprehensible Power; the Original and Preserver of all things, all Bounty, all Perfection, receiving and taking in good part the Honour and Reverence that Man paid unto him, under what Method, Name or Ceremonies soever. 
Jupiter omnipotens rerum, regúmque Deûmque,  
Progenitor, Genitrixque—  This Zeal has universally been looked upon from Heaven with a gracious Eye. All Governments have reaped Fruit from their Devotion: Men, and impious Actions, have every where had suitable Events. 
What the Knowledge of God was amongst the Pagans.  Pagan Histories acknowledge Dignity, Order, Justice, Prodiges and Oracles, employed for their Profit and Instruction in their fabulous Religions. God, peradventure, through his Mercy vouchsafing by these temporal Benefits, to cherish the tender Principles of a kind of a brutish Knowledge, that natural Reason gave them of him, through the deceiving Images of their Dreams. Not only deceiving and false, but impious also; and injurious are those that Man has forged from his own Invention. And of all the Religions that St. Paul found in Repute at Athens, that which they had dedicated to an unknown Divinity, seemed to him the most to be excused. Pythagoras' shadowed the Truth a little more closely: 
The unknown God adored at Athens.  Judging that the Knowledge of this first Cause, and Being of Being's, ought to be indefinite, without Limitation, without Declaration: That it was nothing else, than the extreme Effort of our Imagination towards Perfection; 
Numa 's Religion.  every one amplifying the Idea according to the Talon of his Capacity. But if Numa attempted to conform the Devotion of his People to this Project; to tie them to a Religion purely mental, without any prefixed Object and material Mixture, he undertook a thing of no use. Human Wit could never support itself floating in such an infinity of inform Thoughts, there is required some certain Image to be presented, according to its own Model. The Divine Majesty has thus, in some sort, suffered himself to be circumscribed in corporal Limits, for our Advantage: His supernatural and celestial Sacraments have Signs of our earthly Condition: His Adoration is by sensible Offices and Words; for 'tis Man that Believes and Prays. I shall omit the other Arguments upon this Subject: But a Man would have much ado to make me believe, that the sight of our Crucifixes, that the Picture of our Saviour's Passion, that the Ornaments and Ceremonious Motions of our Churches, that the Voices accommodated to the Devotion of our Thoughts, and that Emotion of Senses do not warm the Souls of the People with a Religious Passion of very advantageous Effects. Of those, to whom they have given a Body as Necessity required in that universal Blindness, I should, I fancy, most incline to those, who Adored the Sun. 

— lafoy lumiere commune,  

Ronsard.  L'aeil du monde; & si Dieu au chef porte des yeux,  
Les rayons du soleil sont ses yeux radeux,  
Qui donnent vie a tous, nous maintiennent, & gardent,  
Et les faits des humains en ce monde regardent:  
Ce beau, ce grand soleil, qui nous fait les saisons,  
Selon qu'il entre, ou sort de ses douze maisons:  
Qui remplit l'univers de ses vertus cogneües:  
Qui d'vn traict de ses yeux nous dissipe les nuës:  
L'esprit, bame du monde ardant, & flamboyant,  
En la course d'un jour tout le Ciel tournoyant,  
Plain d'immense grandeur, rond, vagabond, & farm:  
Lequel tient dessoubs luy tout le monde pour term:  
En repos, sans repos, oysif, & sans sejour,  
Fils aisnè de Nature, & le Pere du jour.   

The common Light that Shines indifferently  
On all alike, the World's enlightening Eyes,  
And if th' Almighty Ruler of the Skies  
Has Eyes, the Sunbeams are his radiant Eyes,  
That Life to all impart, maintain and guard,  
And all men's Actions upon Earth regard.  
This Great, this Beautiful, and glorious Sun,  
That Seasons gives by Revolution:  
That with his Influence fills the Universe,  
And with one Glance does sullen Shades disperse.  
Life, Soul o'th' World, that flaming in his Sphere,  
Surrounds the Heavens in one Days career,  
Immensly great, moving, yet firm and round,  
Who the whole World below has fixed his Bond,  
At Rest without Rest, Idle without Stay,  
Nature's first Son, and Father of the Day.   Forasmuch as besides this Grandeur and Beauty of his, 'tis the only piece of this Machine that we discover at the remotest distance from us; and by that means so little known, that they were pardonable, for entering into so great admiration and reverence of it. Thales, who first enquired into this sort of matter, believed God to be a Spirit, that made all things of Water. Anaximander, that the Gods were always dying, and entering into Life; and that there were an infinite number of Worlds. Anaximines, that the Air was God, that he was procreated and immense, always moving. Anaxagoras the First, was of Opinion, that the description and manner of all things were conducted by the Power and Reason of an infinite Spirit. Alcmaeon gave the Divinity to the Sun, Moon and Stars, and to the Soul. Pythagoras has made God a Spirit sprinkled over the Nature of all things, from whence our Souls are extracted. Parmenides, a Circle surrounding the Heaven, and supporting the World by the Ardour of Light. Empedocles pronounced the four Elements, of which all things are composed, to be Gods. Protagoras had nothing to say, whether they were or were not, or what they were. Democritus was one while of Opinion, that the Images and their Circuitions were Gods, another this Nature that darts out those Images, and then our Science and Intelligence. Plato divides his Belief into several Opinions. He says in his Timaeus, That the Father of the World cannot be named; In his Laws, That Men are not to inquire into his Being. And elsewhere in the very same Books, he makes the World, the Heavens, the Stars, the Earth, and our Souls, Gods, admitting moreover those which have been received by Ancient Institution in every Republic. Xenophon reports a like Perplexity in Socrates his Doctrine. One while that Men are not to inquire into the Form of God, and presently makes him maintain that the Sun is God, and the Soul, God; and the first, that there is but one God, and afterwards that there are many. Speucippus the Nephew of Plato makes God a certain Power governing all things, and that he has a Soul. Aristotle one while says, it is the Spirit, and another, the World; one while he gives this World another Master, and another makes God the Ardour of Heaven. Zenocrates makes eight, five named amongst the Planets, the sixth composed of all the fixed Stars, as of so many Members, the seventh and the eighth, the Sun and the Moon. Heraclides Ponticus does nothing but float in his Opinion, and finally deprives God of Sense, and makes him shift from one Form to another, and at last says, that 'tis Heaven and Earth. Theophrastus wanders in the same Irresolution amongst his Fancies, attributing the Superintendency of the World, one while, to the Understanding, another while to Heaven, and another to the Stars. Strato, that 'tis Nature, she having the power of Generation, Augmentation and Diminuition, without Form and Sentiment. Zeno says, 'tis the Law of Nature commanding Good, and prohibiting Evil; which Law is an Animal, and takes away the accustomed Gods, Jupiter, Juno and Vesta: Diogenes Apolloniates, this 'tis Age. Zenophanes makes God round, seeing and hearing, not breathing, and having nothing in common with Human Nature. Aristo thinks the Form of God to be incomprehensible, deprives him of Sense, and knows not whether he be an Animal, or something else. Cleanthes one while supposes it to be Reason; another while, the World; another, the Soul of Nature; and then the supreme Heat rolling about, and environing all. Perseus, Zeno's Disciple, was of Opinion, that Men have given the Title of Gods to such as have been useful, and have added any advantage to Human Life, and even to profitable things themselves. Crysippus made a confused heap of Old Sentences, and reckons amongst a thousand Forms of Gods that he makes, the Men also that have been Deified. Diagoras and Theodorus flatly denied, that there were any Gods at all. Epicurus makes the Gods shining, transparent and perflable, lodged, as betwixt two Forts, betwixt the two Worlds, secure from blows, clothed in a Human Figure, and with such Members as we have; which Members are to them of no use. 


Cicer. de Divin. l. 2. ex Enyo.  Ego Deum genus esse semper duxi & dicam caelitum,  
Sed eos non curare opinor, quid agat humanum genus.   

I ever thought that Gods above there were,  
But do not think they care what Men do here.   Trust to your Philosophy, my Masters: And brag, that you have found the Bean in the Cake; What a Rattle is here with so many Philosophical Heads! The perplexity of so many Worldly Forms have gained this over me, that Manners and Opinions contrary to mine, do not so much displease as instruct me; nor so much make me proud, as they humble me in comparing them. And all other choice, than what comes from the Express and immediate Hand of God, seems to me a Choice of very little Privilege. The Policies of the World are no less opposite upon this Subject, than the Schools, by which we may understand, that Fortune itself is not more variable and inconstant, nor more blind and inconsiderate than our Reason. The things that are most unknown, are most proper to be deified; wherefore to make Gods of ourselves, as the Ancients did, exceeds the extremest Weakness of Understanding. I should much rather have gone along with those who adored the Serpent, the Dog, or the Ox: Forasmuch as their Nature and Being is less known to us, and that we have more Authority to imagine what we please of those Beasts, and to attribute to them extraordinary Faculties. But to have made Gods of our own condition, of whom we ought to know the Imperfections; and to have attributed to them Desire, Anger, Revenge, Marriages, Generation, Alliances, Love and Jealousy; our Members and Bones, our Fevers and Pleasures, our Death and Obsequies; this must needs proceed from a marvellous Intoxication of Human Understanding. 

Que procul usque adeo divino ab numine distant, 
Lucret. lib. 5.   
Inque Deum numero quae sint indigna videri.   

From Divine Natures, which so distant were,  
They are unworthy of that Character.   Formae, aetates, vestitus, ornatus noti sunt: Genera, 
Cicer. de Nat. Deo. lib. 2.  conjugia, cognationes, omnidque traducta ad similitudinem imbecillitatis humanae; nam & perturbatis animis inducuntur: Accipimus enim Deorum cupiditates, aegritudines, iracundias. Their Forms, Ages, clothes and Ornaments are known: Their Descents, Marriages and Kindred, and all appropriated to the similitude of Human Weakness; for they are represented to us with anxious Minds, and we read of the Lusts, Sickness and Anger of the Gods. As having attributed Divinity not only to Faith, Virtue, Honour, Concord, Liberty, Victory and Piety; but also to Voluptuousness, Fraud, Death, Envy, Old Age; Misery; to fear, Fever, ill Fortune, and other Injuries of our frail and transitory Life. 


Per. Sat. 2.  Quid juvat hoc, templis nostros inducere mores?  
O curvae in terris an●mae, & caelestium inanes!   

Into our Temples, to what end or use,  
Do we our Ceremonies introduce?  
Oh crooked Souls, that to the Earth bow low,  
And nought of Heavenly Mysteries do know!   The Egyptians with an impudent Prudence, interdicted upon pain of hanging, that any one should say, that their Gods, Serapis and Isis, had formerly been Men: And yet no one was ignorant, that they had been such. And their Effigies represented with the Finger upon the Mouth, signified, says Varro, that mysterious Decree to their Priests, to conceal their mortal Original, as it must by necessary Consequence cancel all the Veneration paid to them. Seeing that Man so much desired to equal himself to God; he had done better, says Cicero, to have attracted those Divine Conditions to himself, and have drawn them down hither below, than to send his Corruption and Misery up on high: But to take it right, he has several ways done both the one and the other, with like vanity of Opinion. When Philosophers search narrowly into the Hierarchy of their Gods, and make a great bustle about distinguishing their Alliances, Offices and Power, I cannot believe they speak as they think. When Plato describes Pluto's Verger to us, and the bodily Conveniences or Pains that attend us after the ruin and annihilation of our Bodies, and accommodate them to the resentment we have in this Life. 

Secreti celant colles, 
Aeneid. l. 6.  & myrtea circùm  
Sylva tegit, curae non ipsa in morte relinquunt.   

In Vales, and myrtle Groves they pensive lie,  
And their Cares do not leave them when they die.   When Mahomet promises his Followers a Paradise hung with Tapestry, guilded and enamelled with Gold and precious Stones, furnished with Wenches of excelling Beauty, rare Wines, and delicate Dishes, it is easily discerned that these are Deceivers that accommodate their Promises to our Sensuality, to attract and allure us by Hopes and Opinions suitable to our mortal Appetite. And yet some amongst us are fallen into the like Error, promising to themselves, after the Resurrection, a Terrestrial and Temporal Life, accompanied with all sorts of Worldly Conveniences and Pleasures. Can we believe that Plato, he who had so heavenly Conceptions, and was so well acquainted with the Divinity, as thence to derive the Name of the Divine Plato, ever thought that the poor Creature, Man, had any thing in him applicable to that incomprehensible Power? And that he believed that the weak Holds we are able to take, were capable, or the Force of our Understanding sufficient to participate of Beatitude, or Eternal Pains? We should then tell him from Human Reason; If the Pleasures thou dost promise us in the other Life, are of the same kind that I have enjoyed here below, this has nothing in common with Infinity: Though all my five Natural Senses should be even loaded with Pleasure, and my Soul full of all the Contentment it could hope or desire, we know what all this amounts to, all this would be nothing: If there be any thing of mine there, there is nothing Divine; if this be no more than what may belong to our present Condition, it cannot be of any value. All Contentment of Mortals is mortal. Even the Knowledge of our Parents, Children and Friends, if that can effect and delight us in the other World, if there that still continue a satisfaction to us, we still remain in earthly and finite Conveniences. We cannot, as we ought, conceive the greatness of these High and Divine Promises, if we could in any sort conceive them: To have a worthy Imagination of them, we must imagine them inimaginable, inexplicable and incomprehensible, and absolutely another thing, than those of our miserable experience. 
1 Cor. 2.9.  Eye hath not seen, saith St. Paul, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the Heart of Man, the things that God hath prepared for them that love him. And if to render us capable, our being be reformed and changed (as thou Plato sayst in thy Purifications) it ought to be so extreme and total a Change, that by Physical Doctrine, it will be no more. 

Hector erat tunc cum bello certabat, 
Ovid. Trist. l. 3. El. 11.  at ille  
Tractus ab Aemonio non erat Hector equo.   

He Hector was, whilst he could fight, but when  
Dragged by Achilles' Steeds, no Hector then.   It must be something else that must receive these Recompenses. 

— quod mutatur, dissolvitur, interit ergo: 
Lucret. l. 1▪   
Trajiciuntur enim partes atque ordine migrant.   

What's changed dissolved is, and doth therefore die,  
For parts are mixed, and from their Order fly.   For in Pythagoras his Metempsychosis, and the change of Habitation that he imagined in Souls, can we believe that the Lion, in whom the Soul of Caesar is enclosed, does espouse Caesar's Passions, or that the Lion is he? For if it was still Caesar, they would be in the right, who, controverting this Opinion with Plato, reproach him, that the Son might be seen to ride his Mother transformed into a Mule, and the like Absurdities. And can we believe, that in the Mutations that are made of the Bodies of Animals into others of the same kind, that the new Comers are not other, than their Predecessors? From the Ashes of a Phoenix, a Worm they say is engendered, and from that, another Phoenix, who can imagine that this second Phoenix, is not other than the first? We see our Silkworms, as it were, die and wither; and from this withered Body, a Butterfly is produced, and from that, another Worm; how ridiculous would it be, to imagine, that this were still the first? That which has once ceased to be, is no more: 


Ibid.  Nec si materiam nostram collegerit aetas  
Post obitum, rursumque redegerit, ut sit a nunc est.  
Atque iterum nobis fuerint data lumina vitae,  
Pertineat quidquam tamen ad nos id quoque factum,  
Interrupta semel cum sit repetentia nostra.   

Neither though time should gather and restore  
Our Matter to the Form it was before,  
And give again new Light to see withal,  
Would that new Figure us concern at all;  
Or we again ever the same be seen,  
Our Being having interrupted been.   And Plato when thou sayest in another place, that it shall be the Spiritual part of Man, that will be concerned in the Fruition of the Recompenses of another Life, thou tellest us a thing wherein there is as little appearance of Truth. 
Ibid.  

Scilicet avolsis radicibus, ut neque ullam  
Dispicere ipse oculus rem seorsum corpore toto.   

No more than Eyes once from their Optics torn.  
Can ever after any thing discern.   For by this account, it would no more be Man, nor consequently us, who should be concerned in this Enjoyment: For we are composed of two principally Essential Parts, the separation of which is the Death and Ruin of our Being. 

Inter enim jacta est vitai pausa, 
Ibid.  vagèque  
Deerarunt passim motus ab sensibus omnes.   

When Life's extinct, all Motions of Sense  
Are ta'en away, dispersed and banished thence.   We cannot say, that the Man suffers much when the Worms feed upon his Members, and that the Earth consumes them: 

Et nihil hoc ad nos, qui coitu conjugiòque  
Corporis atque animae consistimus uniter apti. 
Ibid.    

What's that to us who longer feel not Pain,  
Than Body and Soul united do remain.   Moreover upon what Foundation of their Justice can the Gods take notice of, or reward Man after his Death, for his good and virtuous Actions, since it was they themselves that put them in the way and mind to do them? And why should they be offended at, or punish him for wicked ones, since themselves have created him in so frail a condition, and what with one Glance of their Will, they might prevent him from falling? Might not Epicurus with great colour of Human Reason object that to Plato, did he not often save himself with this Sentence, That it is impossible to establish any thing certain of the immortal Nature by the Mortal? She does nothing but err throughout, but especially when she meddles with Divine things. Who does more evidently perceive this, than we? For although we have given her certain and infallible Principles; and though we have enlightened her Steps with the Sacred Lamp of Truth, that it has pleased God to communicate to us; we daily see nevertheless, that if she swerve never so little from the ordinary Path, and that she strays from, or wander out of the way, set out and beaten by the Church, how soon she loses, confounds and fetters herself, tumbling and floating in this vast, turbulent and waving Sea of Human Opinions, without restraint, and without any determinate end. So soon as she loses that Great and Common Road, she enters into a Labyrinth of a thousand several Paths. Man cannot be any thing but what he is, nor imagine beyond the reach of his Capacity: 'Tis a greater Presumption, says Plutarch, in them who are but Men, to attempt to speak and discourse of the Gods and Demigods, than it is in a Man, utterly ignorant of Music, to judge of Singing; or in a Man who never saw a Camp, to dispute about Arms and Martial Affairs, presuming by some light Conjecture to understand the effects of an Art he is totally a Stranger to. Antiquity, I believe, thought to put a Compliment upon, and to add something to the Divine Grandeur, in assimilating it to Man, investing it with his Faculties, and adorning it with his ugly Humours, and more shameful Necessities: Offering it our Aliments to eat, presenting it with our Dances, Masquerades and Farces to divert it; with our Vestments to cover it, and our Houses to inhabit, caressing it with the Odours of Incense, and the Sounds of Music, Festons and Nosegays: And to accommodate it to our vicious Passions, flattering his Justice with inhuman Vengeance, that is delighted with the Ruin and Dissipation of things by it created and preserved: As Tiberius Sempronius, who burned the rich Spoils and Arms he had gained from the Enemy in Sardignia, for a Sacrifice to Vulcan: And Paulus Emylius, those of Macedonia to Mars and Minerva: And Alexander arriving at the Indian Ocean, threw several great Vessels of Gold into the Sea, in Favour of Thetis; and moreover loading her Altars with a slaughter, not of innocent Beasts only, but of Men also; as several Nations, and ours amongst the rest, were ordinarily used to do: And I believe there is no Nation under the Sun, that has not done the same. 

— Sulmone creatos 
Aeneid. lib. 10.   
Quatuor hic juvenes, totidem quos educat Vfens  
Viventes rapit, inferias quos immolet umbris.   

At Sulmo born he took of young Men four;  
Of those at Vfens bred, as many more,  
Of these alive, in most inhuman wise,  
To offer an infernal Sacrifice.   The Geteses hold themselves to be Immortal, and that their Death is nothing but a Journey towards Zamolxis, Once in five Years they dispatch some one amongst them to him, 
Zamolxis the God of the Geteses.  to entreat of him such Necessaries as they stand in need of: Which Envoy is chosen by Lot, and the form of his Dispatch, after having been instructed by Word of Mouth what he is to deliver, is, that of the Assistants, three hold out so many Javelins, against which the rest throw his Body with all their Force. If he happen to be wounded in a mortal Part, and that he immediately die, 'tis reputed a certain Argument of Divine Favour; but if he escape, he is looked upon as a wicked and execrable Wretch, and another is dismissed after the same manner, in his stead. 
Sacrifice of 14▪ young men.  Amestris, the Mother of Xerxes, being grown old, caused at once fourteen young Men, of the best Families of Persia, to be buried alive, according to the Religion of the Country, to gratify some infernal Deity. And yet to this Day, the Idols of Temixtitan are cemented with the Blood of little Children, and they delight in no Sacrifice, but of these pure and infantine Souls; a Justice thirsty of innocent Blood. 


Lucr. l. 1.  Tantum Religio potuit suadere malorum.   

Such impious Use was of Religion made,  
So many Ills and Mischiefs to persuade.   The Carthaginians immolated their own Children to Saturn; 
Carthaginian Children sacrificed to Saturn.  and who had none of their own, bought of others, the Father and Mother being in the mean time obliged to assist at the Ceremony, with a gay and contented Countenance. It was a strange Fancy, to gratify the Divine Bounty with our Affliction; like the Lacedæmonians, who regaled their Diana with the tormenting of young Boys, which they caused to be whipped for her Sake, very often to Death. It was a savage Humour, to think to gratify the Architect by the Subversion of his Building, and to think to take away the Punishment due to the Guilty, by punishing the Innocent: And that poor Iphigenia, at the Port of Aulis, should by her Death and being Sacrificed, acquit towards God the whole Army of the Greeks, from all the Crimes they had committed: 

Et casta incestè nubendi tempore in ipso 
Ibid.   
Hostia concideret mactatu maesta parentis.   

And that the chaste, should in her nuptial Band,  
Dye by a most unnatural Father's Hand.   And that the two noble and generous Souls of the two Decii the Father and the Son, to incline the Favour of the Gods to be propitious to the Affairs of Rome, should throw themselves headlong into the thickest of the Enemy. 
Cicero de Nat. Deo. lib. 3.  Quae fuit tanta Deorum iniquitas, ut placari populo Romano non possent, nisi tales viri occidissent? How great an Injustice in the Gods was that, that they could not be reconciled to the People of Rome, unless such Men perished? To which may be added, that it is not in the Criminal to cause himself to be scourged according to his own Measure, nor at his own time; but that it purely belongs to the Judge; who considers nothing as Chastisements, but the Penalty that he appoints; and cannot call that Punishment, which proceeds from the Consent of him that suffers. The Divine Vengeance presupposes an absolute Dissent in us, both from its Justice, and our own Penalty. And therefore it was a ridiculous Humour of Polycrates the Tyrant of Samos, who, to interrupt the continued Course of his good Fortune, and to balance it, went and threw the dearest and most precious Jewel he had into the Sea; believing that by this voluntary and antedated Mishap, he bribed and satisfied the Revolution and Vicissitude of Fortune; and she, to delude his Folly, ordered it so, that the same Jewel came again into his Hands, found in the Belly of a Fish. And then to what end are those Tearing and Demembrations of the Corybantes, the Maenads▪ and in our times of the Mahometans, who slash their Faces, Bosoms, and their Limbs, to gratify their Prophet: Seeing that the Offence lies in the Will, not in the Breast, Eyes, Genitories, in the Beauty, the Shoulders, or the Throat? Tantus est perturbatae mentis, & sedibus suis pulsae, 
Diu. Aug. de Cicitat. Dei. lib. 6. cap. 10.  furor, ut sic dii placentur, quemadmodum ne homines quidem saeviunt. So great is the Fury and Madness of troubled Minds, when once displaced from the Seat of Reason: As if the Gods should be appeased, with what even Men are not so mad as to approve. The use of this natural Contexture has not only respect to us, but also to the Service of God, and other Men. And 'tis unjust, willingly to wound or hurt it; as to kill ourselves upon any Pretence whatever. It seems to be great Cowardice and Treason to exercise Cruelty upon, and to destroy the Functions of the Body, that are stupid and servile, to spare the Soul the Solicitude of Governing them according to Reason. Vbi iratos Deos timent, qui sic propitios habere merentur. In regiae libidinis voluptatem castrati sunt quidam, sed nemo sibi, ne vir esset, jubente Domino, manus intulit. Where are they, so afraid of the anger of the Gods, as to merit their Favour at that rate? Some indeed have been made Eunuches for the Lust of Princes: But no Man at his Master's Command, has put his own Hand to unman himself: So did they fill their Religion with several ill Effects. 

— saepius olim  
Religio peperit scelerosa, atque impia facta. 
Lucr. l. 1.    

— In elder times  
Religion did commit notorious Crimes.   Now nothing of ours can in any sort be compared, or likened unto the Divine Nature, which will not blemish and smut it with so much Imperfection. How can that infinite Beauty, Power and Bounty, admit of any Correspondence, or Similitude, to so abject things as we are, without extreme Wrong, and manifest Dishonour to his Divine Greatness? Infirmum Dei fortius est hominibus: 
1. Cor. c. 1. v. 25.  Et stultum Dei sapientius est hominibus. For the Foolishness of God is wiser than Men, and the Weakness of God is stronger than Men. Stilpo the Philosopher being asked, whether the Gods were delighted with our Adorations and Sacrifices: You are Indiscreet, answered he, let us withdraw apart, if you talk of such things. Nevertheless we prescribe him Bounds, we keep his Power besieged by our Reasons, (I call our Rave and Dreams Reason, with the Dispensation of Philosophy, which says, that the wicked Man, and even the Fool, go Mad by Reason; but by a particular form of Reason.) We will subject him to the feeble Apparences of our Understanding; him, who has made both us and our Knowledge. Because that nothing is made of nothing, God therefore could not make the World without Matter. What, has God put into our Hands the Keys and most secret Springs of his Providence? Is he obliged not to exceed the Limits of our Knowledge? Put the Case, O Man, that thou hast been able here to mark some Footsteps of his Effects: Dost thou therefore think that he has employed all he can, and has crowded all his Forms and Ideas in this Work? Thou seest nothing but the Order and Revolution of this little Vault, under which thou art lodged, if thou dost see so much: Whereas his Divinity has an infinite Jurisdiction beyond: This Part is nothing in Comparison of the Whole. 


Lucr. l. 6. — omnia cum caelo, terráque marique  
Nil sunt ad summam summai totius omnem.   

All things, both Heaven, Earth, and Sea, do fall  
Short in the Account with the great All of All.   'Tis a municipal Law that thou allegest, thou knowest not what is Universal. Tie thyself to that to which thou art subject, but not him; he is not of thy Brotherhood, thy Fellow-Citizen, or Companion: If he has in some sort communicated himself unto thee; 'tis not to debase himself to thy littleness, nor to make thee comptroller of his Power. A human Body cannot fly to the Clouds: 'Tis for thee, the Sun runs every day his ordinary Course: The Bounds of the Seas and the Earth cannot be confounded: The Water is Unstable and without Firmness: A Wall, unless it be broken, is impenetrable to a solid Body: A man cannot preserve his Life in the Flames; he cannot be both in Heaven and upon Earth, and corporally in a thousand places at once. 'Tis for thee, that he has made these Rules; 'tis thee, that they concern. He has manifested to Christians, that he has enfranchised them all when it pleased him. And in truth why, Almighty as he is, should he have limited his Power within any certain Bounds? In favour of whom should he have renounced his Privilege? Thy Reason has in no other thing more of likelihood and Foundation, than in that wherein it persuades thee that there is a plurality of Worlds. 

Terramque & solemn, lunam, mare, caetera quae sunt, 
Lucr. l. 2.   
Non esse unica sed numero magis innumerali.   

That Earth, Sun, Moon, Sea, and the rest that are,  
Not single, but innumerable were.   The most eminent Wits of elder times believed it; and some of this Age of ours, compelled by the apparences of human Reason, do the same: Forasmuch as in this Fabric, that we behold, there is nothing single and one, 


Ibid. — cum in summa res nulla sit una,  
Vnica quae gignatur: Et unica soláque crescat:   

Since nothing's single in this mighty Mass,  
That can alone beget, alone increase:   And that all the kinds are multiplied in some number: By which it seems not to be likely, that God should have made this Work only without a Companion: And that the Matter of this Form should have been totally drained in this sole Individual. 


Ibid.  Quare etiam, atque etiam tales fateare necesse est,  
Esse alios alibi congressus materiai,  
Qualis hic est avido complexu quem tenet aether.   

Wherefore 'tis necessary to confess,  
That there must elsewhere be the like congress  
Of the like matter, which the airy space  
Contains & holds with a most strict Embrace.   Especially if it be a living Creature, which its motions renders so credible, that Plato affirms it, and that many of our People do either confirm, or dare not deny: No more than that ancient Opinion, that the Heaven, the Stars, and other Members of the World, are Creatures composed of Body and Soul: Mortal in respect of their Composition, but Immortal by the determination of the Creator. Now if there be many Worlds, as Democritus, Epicurus, and almost all Philosophy has believed, what do we know but that the Principles and Rules of this of ours, may in like manner concern the rest? They may peradventure have another Form, and another Policy. Epicurus supposes them either like or unlike. We see in this World an infinite difference and variety, only by distance of Places. Neither the Corn, Wine, nor any of our Animals are to be seen in that new corner of the World discovered by our Fathers, 'tis all there another thing. And in times past, do but consider in how many parts of the World they had no Knowledge either of Bacchus or Ceres. If Pliny and Herodotus are to be believed, there are in certain Places a kind of Men very little resembling us. And there are mongrel and ambiguous Forms, betwixt the human and brutal Natures. There are Countries, where men are born without Heads, having their Mouth and Eyes in their Breast: Where they are all Hermaphodrites; where they go on all four; where they have but one Eye in the Forehead, and a Head more like a Dog than one of us: Where they are half Fish, the lower part, and live in the Water: Where the Women bear at five years old, and live but eight: Where the Head and Skin of the Forehead is so hard, that a Sword will not touch it, but rebounds again: Where Men have no Beards: Nations that know not the use of Fire, and others that eject Seed of a black Colour. What shall we say of those that naturally change themselves into Woolves, Colts, and then into men again? And if it be true as Plutarch says, that in some place of the Indies, there are men without Mouths, who nourish themselves with the smell of certain Odours, how many of our Descriptions are false? He is no more risible nor peradventure, capable of Reason and Society: The disposition and cause of our internal Composition would then for the most part be to no purpose, nor of no use; moreover how many things are there in our own Knowledge, that oppose those fine Rules we have cut out for, and prescribed to Nature? And yet we must undertake to circumscribe God himself! How many things do we call miraculous and contrary to Nature? This is done by every Nation, and by every Man, according to the Proportion of his Ignorance. How many occult Properties and Quintessences do we daily discover? For, for us to go according to Nature, is no more but to go according to our Intelligence, as far as that is able to follow, and as far as we are able to see into it: All beyond that must be monstrous and irregular. Now by this Account, all things shall be monstrous to the wisest and most understanding men; for human Reason has persuaded them, that there was no manner of Ground or Foundation, not so much as to be assured that Snow is white; and Anaxagoras affirmed it to be black: If there be any thing, or if there be nothing: If there be Knowledge or Ignorance; which Metrodorus Chius denied that Man was able to determine: Or whether we live, as Euripides doubts, whether the Life we live is Life, or whether that we call Death be not Life: 
Who knows if Life been't that which we call Death,  
And Death the thing that we call Life.  And not without some appearance. For why do we from this Instant derive the Title of Being, which is but a Flash in the infinite Course of an eternal Night, and so short an Interruption of our perpetual and natural Condition? Death possessing all that passed before, and all the future of this moment, and also a good part of the moment itself. Others swear there is no motion at all, as the Followers of Melissus, 
Motion of things below denied.  and that nothing stirs. For if there be but one, neither can that Spherical Motion be of any use to him, nor the Motion from one place to another, as Plato proves, That there is neither Generation nor Corruption in Nature. Protagoras says, That there is nothing in Nature but Doubt: That a man may equally dispute of all things; and even of this, whether a man can equally dispute of all things: Mansiphanes, that of things which seem to be, nothing is, more than it is not. That there is nothing certain, but incertainty. Parmenides, that of that which seems, there is no one thing in general. That there is but one thing. Zeno, that one same is not; and that there is nothing. If there were one thing, it would either be in another, or in itself. If it be in another, they are two: If it be in itself, they are yet two; the comprehending, and the comprehended. According to these Doctrines the Nature of things, is no other than a Shadow, either false or vain. This way of speaking in a Christian Man, has ever seemed to me very Indiscreet and Irreverent. God cannot die; God cannot contradict himself; God cannot do this, or that, I do not like to have the divine Power so limited by the Laws of men's Mouths. And the appearance which presents itself to us in those Propositions, aught to be more religiously and reverently expressed. Our speaking has its Failings and Defects, as well as all the rest. Grammar is that which creates most Disturbance in the World. Our Suits only spring from the Debate of the interpretation of Laws: And most Wars proceed from the Inability of Ministers, clearly to express the Conventions and Treaties of Amity of Princes. How many Quarrels, and of how great Importance, has the doubt of the meaning of this Syllable Hoc created in the World? Let us take the clearest Conclusion that Logic itself presents us with. If you say it is fair, and that you say true, it is then fair Wether. Is not this a very certain form of speaking? And yet it will deceive us: That it will do so, let us follow the Example. If you say you lie, and that you say true, than you do lie. The Art, the Reason, and Force of the Conclusion of this, are the same with the other, and yet we are gravelled. The Pyrrhonian Philosophers, I discern, cannot express their general Conception in any kind of speaking: For the World requires a new Language on purpose. Ours is all formed of affirmative Propositions, which are totally antarctic to them. Insomuch that when they say I doubt, they are presently taken by the Throat, to make them confess, that at least they know, and are assured that they do doubt. By which means they have been compelled to shelter themselves under this medicinal Comparison, without which, their Humour would be inexplicable. When they pronounce, I know not: Or, I doubt; they say, that this Proposition carries off itself with the rest, no more, nor less than Rhubarb, that drives out the ill Humours, and carries itself off with them. This Fancy will be more certainly understood by Interrogation: What do I know? (as I bear it in the Emblem of a Balance.) See what use they make of this irreverend way of speaking. In the present Disputes about our Religion, if you press the Adversaries to it too hard, they will roundly tell you, that it is not in the Power of God, to make it so, that his Body should be in Paradise and upon Earth, and in several Places at once. And see what Advantage the old Scoffer makes of this? At least, says he, it is no little Consolation to Man, to see that God cannot do all things: For he cannot kill himself, though he would; which is the greatest Privilege we have in our Condition: He cannot make Mortals Immortal, nor revive the Dead: Nor make it so, that he who has lived, has not; nor that he, who has had Honours, has not had them, having no other right to the past, than that of Oblivion. And that the Comparison of a Man to God may yet be made out by pleasant Examples, he cannot order it so, he says, that twice ten shall not be twenty. This is what he says, and what a Christian ought to take heed shall not escape his Lips. Whereas on the contrary, it seems, as if all Men studied this impudent kind of blasphemous Language, to reduce God to their own measure. 

— cras vel atra  

Hor. Car. l. 3. Ode. 29.  Nube polum pater occupato,  
Vel sole puro non tamen irritum  
Quodcumque retro est efficiet, neque  
Diffinget infectumque reddet  
Quod fugiens semel hora vexit.   

To morrow let it shine, or rain,  

Lord Fanshaw.  Yet cannot this the past make vain:  
Nor uncreate and render void,  
That which was yesterday enjoyed.   When we say, that the infinity of Ages, as well past as to come, are but one Instant with God: That his Bounty, Wisdom and Power are the same with his Essence: Our Mouths speak it, but our Understandings apprehend it not. And yet such is our vain Opinion of ourselves, that we must make the Divinity to pass through our Seive: And from thence proceed all the Dreams and Errors with which the World abounds, whilst we reduce and weigh in our Balance a thing so far above our Poise. 
Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 2.  Mirum quò procedat improbitas cordis humani, parvulo aliquo invitata successu. 'Tis a wonder to what the wickedness of Man's Heart will proceed, if elevated with the least Success. How magisterially and insolently does Epicurus reprove the Stoics from maintaining that the truly good and happy Being appertained only to God, and that the wise Man had nothing but a shadow and resemblance of it? How temerariously have they bound God by Destiny, (a thing, that, by my consent, none that bears the Name of a Christian shall ever do again) and both Thales, Plato, and Pythagoras have enslaved him to Necessity. This Arrogancy of attempting to discover God with our weak Eyes, has been the Cause that an eminent Person of our Nation, has attributed to the Divinity a corporal Form; and is the reason of what happens amongst us every day, of attributing to God important Events, by a particular Assignation: Because they sway with us, they conclude that they also sway with him, and that he has a more intent and vigilant Regard to them, than to others of less Moment, or of ordinary Course. Magna Dii curant, parva negligunt. 
Cicero de Nat. Deor. lib. 3.  The Gods are concerned at great matters, but slight the small. Observe his Example, he will clear this to you by his Reason: Nec in regnis quidem Reges omnia curant. Neither indeed do Kings in their Administration take notice of all the least Concerns. As if to that King of Kings it were more and less to subvert a Kingdom, or to move the Leaf of a Tree: Or as if his Providence acted after another manner in inclining the Event of a Battle, than in the leap of a Flea. The hand of his Government is laid upon every thing after the same manner, with the same Power and Order: Our Interest does nothing towards it; our Inclinations and Measures sway nothing with him. Deus ita artifex magnus in magnis, ut minor non sit in parvis. God is so great an Artificer in great things, that he is no less in the least. Our Arrogancy sets this blasphemous Comparison ever before us. Because our Enployments are a Burden to us, Strato has courteously been pleased to exempt the Gods from all Offices, as their Pirests are. He makes Nature produce and support all things; and with her Weights and Motions makes up the several parts of the World▪ discharging human Nature from the awe of divine Judgements. 
Cicer. de Nat. Deo. lib. 1.  Quod beatum, aeternumque sit, id nec habere negotii quicquam, nec exhibere alteri. What is Blessed and Eternal, has neither any Business itself, nor gives any to another. Nature will that in like things there should be a like Relation. The infinite number of Mortals, therefore, concludes a like number of Immortals; the infinite things that kill and destroy, presuppose as many that preserve and profit. As the Souls of the Gods without Tongue, Eyes, or Ear, do every one of them feel amongst themselves, what the other feel, and judge our Thoughts. So the Souls of Men, when at liberty, and loosed from the Body, either by Sleep, o'er some Ecstasy, divine, foretell, and see things, which whilst joined to the Body they could not see. 
Rom. 1. v. 22, 23.  Men (says St. Paul) professing themselves to be wise, they became Fools; and changed the Glory of uncorruptible God, into an Image made like corruptible Man. Do but take notice of the juggling in the Ancient Deifications. After the great and stately Pomp of the Funeral, so soon as the Fire began to mount to the top of the Pyramid, and to catch hold of the Hearse where the Body lay, they at the same time turned out an Eagle, which flying upward, signified that the Soul went into Paradise. We have yet a thousand Medals, and particularly of that virtuous Fostina, where this Eagle is represented carrying these deified Souls with their Heels upwards, towards Heaven. 'Tis pity that we should fool ourselves with our own Fopperies and Inventions, Quod finxere timent. 
Luan. l. 1.  Like Children who are frighted with the same Face of their Playfellow, that they themselves had smeared and smutted. Quasi quicquam infelicius sit homine, cui sua figmenta dominantur. As if any thing could be more unhappy than Man, who is insulted over by his own Imagination. 'Tis far from honouring who made us, to honour him that we have made. Augustus had more Temples than Jupiter, served with as much Religion, and belief of Miracles: The Thracians, in return of the Benefits they had received from Agesilaus, coming to bring him word, that they had canonised him: Has your Nation, said he to them, that Power to make Gods of whom they please? Pray first deify some one amongst yourselves, and when I shall see what Advantage he has by it, I will thank you for your Offer. Man is certainly stark mad; he cannot make a Flea, and yet he will be making Gods by Dozen. Hear what Trismegestus says in praise of our Sufficiency: Of all the wonderful things, it surmounts all Wonder, that Man could find out the divine Nature and make it. And take here the Arguments of the School of Philosophy itself. 


Lucan. l. 1.  Nosse cui Divos, & caeli numina, soli  
Aut soli nescire datum.   

To whom to know the Deities of Heaven,  
Or know he knows them not, alone 'tis given.   If there is a God, he is a living Creature; if he be a living Creature, he has some Sense; and if he has Sense, he is subject to Corruption. If he be without a Body, he is without a Soul, and consequently without Action: And if he has a Body, it is perishable. Is not here a Triumph? We are incapable of having made the World; there must then be some more excellent Nature, that has put a Hand to the Work. It were a foolish and ridiculous Arrogance, to esteem ourselves the most perfect thing of the Universe. There must then be something that is better and more perfect, and that must be God. When you see a stately and stupendious Edifice, though you do not know who is the Owner of it, you would yet conclude it was not built for Rats. And this divine Structure that we behold of the Celestial Palace, 
Heaven God's Palace.  have we not reason to believe that it is the Residence of some Possessor, who is much greater than we? Is not the most Supreme always the most Worthy? And we are subjected to him. Nothing without a Soul and without Reason, can produce a living Creature capable of Reason. The World produces us, the World than has Soul and Reason. Every part of us is less than we. We are part of the World, the World therefore is endued with Wisdom and Reason, and that more abundantly than we. 'Tis a fine thing to have a great Government. 
The Government of the World.  The Government of the World than appertains to some happy Nature. The Stars do us no harm, they are then full of Bounty. We have need of Nourishment, than so have the Gods also, and feed upon the Vapours of the Earth. Worldly Goods are not Goods to God; therefore they are not Goods to us: Offending, and being Offended, are equally Testimonies of Imbecility: 'Tis therefore folly to fear God. God is good by his Nature; Man by his Industry, which is more. The divine and human Wisdom have no other Distinction, but that the first is Eternal. But Duration is no accession to Wisdom, therefore we are Companions. We have Life, Reason and Liberty; we esteem Bounty, Charity and Justice: These Qualities are in him. In conclusion, the building and destroying, and the conditions of the Divinity, are forged by Man according as they relate to himself. What a Pattern, and what a Model! let us stretch, let us raise and swell human Qualities as much as we please. Puff up thyself, vain Man, yet more and more, and more. 

Non si te ruperis, inquit.   


Hor. l. 2. Sat. 3.  Swell till thou burst, said he,  
Thou shalt not match the Deity.   Profectò non Deum, quem cogitare non possunt, sed semet ipsos pro illo cogitantes, non illum, sed seipsos, non illi, sed sibi comparant. Certainly they do not Imagine God, whom they cannot imagine; but they imagine themselves in his stead: They do not compare him, but themselves, not to him, but to themselves. In natural things the Effects do but half relate to their Causes. What's this to the Purpose? His Condition is above the order of Nature, too elevate, too remote, and too mighty to permit himself to be bound and fettered by our Conclusions. 'Tis not through ourselves, that we arrive at that place: Our ways lie too low. We are no nearer Heaven on the top of Mount Senis, than in the bottom of the Sea: Take the Distance with your Astrolable. They debate God even to the carnal Knowledge of Women, to so many times and so many Generations. Paulina the Wife of Saturninus, a Matron of great Reputation at Rome, thinking she lay with the God Serapis, found herself in the Arms of an Amoroso of hers, through the Pandarism of the Priests of his Temple. Varro, the most subtle and most learned of all the latin Authors, in his Book of Theologie writes, That the Secton of Hercules his Temple, throwing Dice with one hand for himself, and with the other for Hercules, played after that manner with him for a Supper and a Whore: If he won, at the expense of the Offerings; if he lost, at his own. The Sexton lost, and paid the Supper and the Whore. Her Name was Laurentina, who saw by night this God in her Arms; who moreover told her that the first she met the next Day, should give her a heavenly Reward: Which proved to be Taruncius, a rich young Man, who took her home to his House, and in time left her his Inheritrix. She on the other side, thinking to do a thing that would be pleasing to this God, left the people of Rome Heir to her; and therefore had divine Honours attributed to her. As if it had not been sufficient that Plato was originally descended from the Gods by a double Line, and that he had Neptune for the common Father of his Race: It was certainly believed at Athens, that Aristo having a mind to enjoy the fair Perictione, could not, and was warned by the God Apollo, in a Dream, to leave her unpolluted and untouched, till she should first be brought to Bed. These were the Father and Mother of Plato. How many ridiculous Stories are of like Cuckoldings committed by the Gods against poor mortal Men? And how many Husbands injuriously scandaled in favour of their Children? In the Mahometan Religion, there are enough Merlin's found by the Belief of the People, that is to say, Children without Fathers, spiritual, divinely conceived in the Wombs of Virgins, and carry Names that signify so much in their Language. We are to observe, that to every thing, nothing is more dear and estimable than its being (the Lion, the Eagle and the Dolphin, prise nothing above their own Kind) and that every thing assimilates the Qualities of all other things to its own proper Qualities, which we may indeed extend or contract, but that's all; for beyond that Relation and Principle, our Imagination cannot go, can guests at nothing else, nor possibly go out thence, or stretch beyond it: From whence spring these ancient Conclusions. Of all Figures, the most beautiful is that of Man; therefore God must be of that Form. No one can be happy without Virtue, nor Virtue be without Reason, and Reason cannot inhabit any where but in a human Shape: God is therefore clothed in a human Figure. Ita est informatum, anticipatumque mentibus nostris, 
Cicero de Nat. Deor. lib. 1.  ut homini, quum de Deo cogitet, forma occurrat humana. It is so imprinted in our Minds, and the Fancy is so prepossessed with it, that when a Man thinks of God, a human Figure ever presents itself to the Imagination. Therefore it was, that Xenophanes pleasantly said, That if Beasts do frame any Gods to themselves, as 'tis likely they do, they make them certainly such as themselves are, and glorify themselves in it, as we do. For why may not a Goose say thus, All the part of the Universe I have an Interest in, the Earth serves me to walk upon, the Sun to light me, the Stars have their Influence upon me: I have such Advantage by the Winds, and such Conveniencies by the Waters: There is nothing that yond heavenly Roof looks upon so favourably as me; I am the Darling of Nature? Is it not Man that treats, lodges, and serves me? 'Tis for me that he both sows and grinds: If he eats me, he does the same by his fellow Man, and so do I the Worms that kill● and devour him. As much might be said by a Crane and with greater Confidence, upon the account of the liberty of his Flight, and the Possession of that high and beautiful Region. Tam bl●nda conciliatrix, & tam sui est lena ipsa natura. 
Ibid.  So flattering and wheedling a Bawd is Nature to herself. Now by the same Consequence the Destinies are then for us; for us the World, it shines, it thunders for us, and the Creator and Creatures are all for us. 'Tis the Mark and Point to which the Universality of things does aim. Look into the Records that Philosophy has kept, for two thousand Years and more, of the Affairs of Heaven: The Gods all that while have neither acted nor spoken but for Man: She does not allow them any other Consultation or Vacation. See them here against us in War. 

— Domitósque Herculea manu  
Telluris juvenes, unde periculum 
Hor. l. 2. Ode. 12.   
Fulgens contremuit domus  
Saturni veteris—   

The brawny Sons of Earth, subdued by hand  
Of Hercules, on the Phlegraean Strand,  
Where the rude Shock did such a rattle make,  
As made old Saturn's sparkling Palace shake.   And here you shall see them participate of our Troubles, to make a return for our having so often shared in theirs. 

Neptunus' muros magnoque emota tridenti  
Fundamenta quatit, totámque à sedibus urbem 
Aeneid. l. 2.   
Eruit: hic Juno scaeas saevissima portas  
Prima tenet.—   

Whilst Neptune with his massy Trident strake,  
He made the Walls of the Foundations shake,  
And the whole City from its Platform thr●w;  
Here, to befriend the Greeks, fair Juno drew  
Into the Scaean Ports.—   The Caunians, jealous of the Authority of their own peculiar Gods, arm themselves on the Days of their Devotion, and the whole Power of their Precincts run cutting and slashing the Air with their Swords, by that means to drive away and banish all foreign Gods out of their Territory. Their Powers are limited according to our Necessity. That cures Horses, that cures Men, that cures the Plague, the Scurf, the Phthisic; one to cure one sort of Itch, another another: Adeo minimis etiam rebus prava Religio insertit Deos: 
Liv. l. 27.  At such a rate does false Religion create Gods for the most contemptible Uses: That makes the Grapes to grow, the Waters to flow. That has the Presidence over Lechery, the Superintendency over Merchandise; for every sort of Artisan a God: That has his Province and Reputation in the East, and that has his in the West. 


Aen. l. 1.  Hic illius arma.— Hic currus fuit.   

Here she her Arms, here she her Chariot had.   


Cicero de Diu. l. 2.  O sancte Apollo, qui umbilicum certum terrarum obtinens:   

O sacred Phoebus who with glorious Ray,  
Over the Navel of the Earth dost sway.   


Ovid. Fast. lib. 3.  Pallada Cecropdae, Minoia Creta Dianam.  
Vulcanum tellus Hipsipylaea colit.  
Junonem spartae, Pelopeiadesque Mycenae,  
Pinnigerum Fauni maenalis ora caput.  
Mars Latio venerandus.   

Th' Athenians Pallas, Cynthia, Crete adore.  
Vulcan is worshipped on the Lemnian Shoar.  
Proud Juno's Altars are by Spartans' fed,  
Th' Arcadians worship Faunus; and 'tis said  
That Mars at Latium is adored.   That has only one Town, or one Family in his Possession: That lives alone, or in company, either Voluntary, or upon Necessity. 

Juntáque sunt magno templa ne potis avo. 
Ibid. l. 1.    

And Temples to the Nephew joined are,  
To those were reared to the Great-Grandfather.   There are some so wretched and mean (for the Number amounts to six and thirty Thousand) that they must pack five or six together, to produce one Ear of Corn, and thence take their several Names. Three to a Door: That of the Plank, that of the Hang, and that of the Threshold. Four to a Child; Protectors of his swathing Clouts, his Drink, Meat and Sucking. Some certain, some uncertain and doubtful, and some that are not yet entered Paradise. 

Quos, quoniam Caeli nondum dignamur honore, 
Ovid. Met. lib. 1.   
Quas dedimus certé terras habitare sinamus.   

Whom, since we yet not worthy think of Heaven,  
We suffer to inhabit the Earth we've given.   There are amongst them Physicians, Poets and Civilians. Some mean ones, betwixt the divine and human Nature, Mediators betwixt God and us: Adored with a certain second and diminutive sort of Adoration: Those are infinite in Titles and Offices: Some good and others ill, some old and decrepit, and some that are mortal. For Chrysippus was of Opinion, that in the last Conflagration of the World, all the Gods were to die but Jupiter: Man makes a thousand pretty Societies betwixt God and him. Is he not his Countryman? 
Ovid. Me. l. 8.  Jovis incunabula Creten. And this is the Excuse, that upon consideration of this Subject, Scaevola a High Priest, and Varro a great Divine in their times, make us: That it is necessary the People should be ignorant of many things that are true, and believe many things that are false. 
Aug. de Civit. Dei. l. 4. cap. 27.  Quum veritatem, qua liberetur, inquirat: credatur ei expedire, quod fallitur. Seeing he inquires into the Truth, by which he would be made free, 'tis thought fit he should be deceived. Human Eyes cannot perceive things, but by the Forms they know. And we do not remember what a leap miserable Phaeton took, for attempting to govern the Reins of his Father's Horses with a mortal Hand. The Mind of Man falls into as great a Profundity, and is after the same manner bruised and shattered by its own Temerity. If you ask Philosophy, of what matter the Sun is, what Answer will she return, if not, that it is of Iron and Stone, or some other Matter that she makes use of? If a Man inquire of Zeno, what Nature is? A Fire, says he, an Artisan proper for Generation, and regularly proceeding. Archimedes, Master of that Science, which attributes to itself the Precedency before all others, for Truth and Certainty. The Sun, says he, is a God of red-hot Iron. Was not this a fine Imagination extracted from the inevitable Necessity of Geometrical Demonstrations? Yet not so inevitable and utile, but that Socrates thought it was enough to know so much of Geometry only, 
Geometry how far useful.  as to measure the Land a man bought or sold; and that Polyaenus, who had been a great and famous Master in it, despised it, as full of Falsity and manifest Vanity, after he had once tasted the delicate Fruits of the Garden of Epicurus. Socrates in Xenophon, concerning this Affair, says of Anaxagoras, reputed by Antiquity learned above all others in celestial and divine Matters, that he had cracked his Brain, as all other men do, who too immoderately search into Knowledges, which nothing appertain unto them. When he made the Sun to be a burning Stone, he did not consider, that a Stone does not shine in the Fire; and which is worse, that it will there consume. And in making the Sun and Fire one, that Fire does not turn Complexions black in shining upon them: That we are able to look fixtly upon Fire: And that Fire kills Herbs and Plants. 'Tis Socrates his Opinion, and mine too, that it is the best Judge of Heaven, not to judge of it at all. Plato, having occasion in his Timeus to speak of Daemons: This Undertaking, says he, exceeds my Ability. We are therefore to believe those Ancients, who have pretended to have been begotten by them. 'Tis against all Reason to refuse to a man's Faith to the Children of the Gods, though what they say should not be proved by any necessary or very probable Reasons; seeing they engage to speak of Domestic and Familiar things. Let us see if we have a little more light in the Knowledge of human and natural Things. Is it not a ridiculous Attempt, for us to forge for those, to whom by our own Confession, our Knowledge is not able to attain, another Body, and to lend a false Form of our own Invention: As is manifest in this motion of the Planets; to which, seeing our Wits cannot possibly arrive, nor conceive their natural Conduct, we lend them material, heavy and substantial Springs of our own, by which to move? 


Ovid. Met. lib. 2. — Temo aureus, aurea summae  
Curvatura rotae, radiorum argenteus ordo.   

A golden Beam, Wheels tired with golden Strokes,  
About the Ring, with sets of silver Spokes.   You would say, that we had had Coach-makers, Wheelewrights and Painters, that went up on high to make Engines of various Motions, and to range the Carriages and Interlacing of the heavenly Bodies of differing Colours about the Axis of Necessity, according to Plato. 


Varro in Catal.  Mundus domus est maxima rerum,  
Quam quinque altitonae fragmine Zonae  
Cingunt, per quam limbus pictus bis sex signis  
Stellimicantibus, altus in obliquo aethere, lunae  
Bigas acceptat.—   

The World's a Mansion that doth all things hold,  
Which thundering Zones in number five enfold,  
Through which a Girdle painted with twelve Signs,  
And that with sparkling Constellations shines,  
In th'oblique Roof, marks the Diurnal Course,  
For the Sun's Chariot, and his fiery Horse.   These are all Dreams and fantastic Follies. Why will not Nature please once for all to lay open her Bosom to us, and plainly discover to us the Means and Conduct of her Movements, and prepare our Eyes to see them? Good God, What Abuse, What Mistakes should we discover in our poor Science! I am mistaken, if that weak Knowledge of ours hold any one thing, as it really is, and I shall depart hence more ignorant of all other things than my own Ignorance. Have I not read in Plato this Divine Saying, That, Nature is nothing but an aenigmatick Poesy? As if a Man might peradventure say, a veiled and shady Picture, breaking out here and there with an infinite variety of false Lights to puzzle our Conjectures. 
Cicero in Academic.  Latent ista omnia crassis occultata & circumfusa tenebris: Vt nulla acies humani ingenii tanta sit, quae penetrare in Caelum, terram intrare possit. All those things lie concealed and involved in so caliginous an Obscurity; that no point of Human Wit can be so sharp, as to pierce Heaven, or penetrate the Earth. And certainly Philosophy is no other than a falsified Poesy. From whence do the Ancient Writers extract their Authorities, but from the Poets? And the first of them were Poets themselves, and writ accordingly. Plato is but a Poet unripped. All super-human Sciences make use of the Poetic Style. Just as Women make use of Teeth of Ivory, where the Natural are wanting, and instead of their true Complexion, make one of some artificial Matter; as they stuff themselves with Cotton to appear plump, and in the sight of every one, paint, patch, and trick up themselves with an adulterate and borrowed Beauty: So does Science, (and even our Law itself has, they say, Legitimate Fictions, whereon it builds the Truth of its Justice) she gives us in Presupposition, and for currant pay, things which themselves inform us were invented: For these Epicycles, Excentrics and Concentrics, which Astology makes use of to carry on the Motions of the Stars, she gives us for the best she could contrive upon that Subject; as also in all the rest, Philosophy presents us, not that which really is, or what she does really believe, but what she has contrived with the greatest and most plausible likelihood of Truth, and the quaintest Invention. Plato upon the Discourse of the State of Human Bodies, and those of Beasts, I should, know that what I have said is truth, says he, had I the Confirmation of an Oracle: But this I will affirm, that, what I have said, is the most likely to be true of any thing, I could say. 'Tis not to Heaven only that Art sends her Ropes, Engines and Wheels; let us consider a little what she says of us ourselves, and of our Contexture. There is not more Retrogradation, Trepidation, Accession, Recession, and Astonishment in the Stars and Celestial bodies, than they have found out in this poor little Human Body. In earnest, they have very good reason upon that very account, to call it a little World, so many Tools and Parts have they employed to erect and build it. To assist the Motions they see in Man, and the various Functions that we find in ourselves, into how many parts have they divided the Soul? In how many places lodged it, into how many Orders have they divided, and to how many Stories have they raised this poor Creature Man, besides those that are natural, and to be perceived? And how many Offices and Vocations have they assigned him? They make an Imaginary of a Public thing. 'Tis a Subject that they hold and handle: And they have full power granted to them, to rip, place, displace, piece and stuff it every one according to his own Fancy, and yet they possess it not. They cannot, not in reality only, but even in Dreams, so govern it, that there will not be some Cadence or Sound that will escape their Architecture as enormous as it is, and botched with a thousand false and fantastic Patches▪ And it is not reason to excuse them; for though we are satisfied with Painters when they paint Heaven, Earth, Seas, Mountains and remote Islands, that they give us but some slight mark of them, and, as of things unknown, are content with a faint and obscure Description: Yet when they come to draw us by the Life, or any other Creature which is known and familiar to us, we then require of them a perfect and exact Representation of Lineaments and Colours, and despise them if they fail in it. I am very well pleased with the Milesian Girl, who observing the Philosopher Thales to be always contemplating the Celestial Arch; and to save his Eyes still gazing upward, laid something in his way that he might stumble at, to put him in mind, that it would be time to take up his Thoughts about things that are in the Clouds, when he had provided for those that were under his Feet. Doubtless she advised him very well, rather to look to himself than to gaze at Heaven. For, as Democritus says, by the Mouth of Cicero, 
Cicero de Divinat. lib. 2.  Quod est ante pedes, nemo spectat: Caeli scrutantur plagas. No Man regards what is under his Feet, they are always prying towards Heaven. But our condition will have it so, that the Knowledge of what we have in hand is as remote from us, and as much above the Clouds, as that of the Stars: As Socrates says in Plato, That, whoever tampers with Philosophy, may be reproached as Thales was by the Woman, that he sees nothing of that which is before him. For every Philosopher is ignorant of what his Neighbour does: Yes, and of what he does himself, and is ignorant of what they both are, whether Beasts or Men. And these people who find Sebonde's Arguments too weak, that are ignorant of nothing, that govern the World, and that know all: 

Quae mare compescant causae, quid temperet annum, 
Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 12.   
Stellae sponte sua, jussaeve vagentur, & errent:  
Quid premat obscurum Lunae, quid proferat orbem,  
Quid velit, & possit rerum concordia discors,   

What governs swelling Tides, what rules the Year.  
Whether of Force, or Will, the Planets err,  
What wax and wain to Cynthia's dark Orb brings,  
What the concording Discord of all things,  
Or would or can effect.   Have they not sometimes in their Writings scattered the Difficulties they have met with of knowing their own Being: We see very well that the Finger moves, that the Foot moves, that some parts assume a voluntary Motion of themselves without our leaves and consent, and that others work by our direction; that one sort of apprehension occasions blushing; another, paleness, such an Imagination works upon the Spleen only, another upon the Brain, one occasions Laughter, another Tears, another stupifies and astonishes all our Senses; at one Object the Stomach will rise, at another a Member that lies something lower. But how a Spiritual Impression should make such a breach into a massy and solid Subject, and the Nature of the Connexion and Contexture of these admirable springs and movements never Man ye● knew: Omnia incerta ratione, 
Plin. l. 2. Cap. 37.  & in naturae majestate abdita. All uncertain in Reason, and concealed in the Majesty of Nature, says Pliny. And St. Austin, 
St. Aug. de spir. & anim.  Modus, quo corporibus adhaerent Spiritus, omnino mirus est, nec comprehendi ab homine potest: & hoc ipse homo est. The manner whereby Souls adhere to Rodies, is altogether wonderful, and cannot be conceived by Man, and yet this is Man. And yet it is not so much as doubted: For the Opinions of Men are received according to ancient Belief, by Authority and upon Trust, as if it were Religion and Law▪ 'Tis received as a Gibberish which is commonly spoken; this Truth with all its clutter of Arguments and Proofs is admitted as a firm and solid Body, that is no more to be shaken, no more to be judged of. On the contrary, every one according to the utmost of his Talon, corroborates and fortifies this received Belief with the utmost power of his Reason, which is a supple Utensile, pliable and to be accommodated to any Figure. And thus the World comes to be filled with Lies and Fopperies. The reason that Men do not doubt of many things, is, that they never examine common Impressions; they do not dig to the Root, where the Faults and Defects lies; they only debate upon the Branches: They do not examine whether such and such a thing be true, but if it has been so, and so understood. It is not enquired into, whether Galen has said any thing to purpose, but whether he has said so or so. In truth it was very good reason, that this Curb to the Liberty of our Judgements, and this Tyranny over our Opinions, ●●ould be extended to the Schools and Arts. The God of Scholastic Knowledge is Aristotle: 'Tis Irreligion to question any of his Decrees, as it was those of Lycurgus at Sparta: His Doctrine is a Magisterial Law, which peradventure is as false as another. I do not know, why I should not as willingly embrace either the Ideas of Plato, or the Atoms of Epicurus, or the Plenum and Vacuum of Leucippus and Democritus, or the Water of Thales, or the Infinity of Nature of Anaximander, or the Air of Diogenes, or the Members and Symmetry of Pythagoras; or the Infinity of Parmenides: or the One of Musaeus, or the Water and Fire of Apollodorus, or the Similar Parts of Anaxagoras, or the Discord and Friendship of Empedocles, or the Fire of Heraclitus, or any other Opinion, (of that infinite Confusion of Opinions and Determinations, which this fine Human Reason does produce by its Certitude and Clear-sightedness in every thing it meddles withal) as I should the Opinion of Aristotle upon this Subject of the Principles of Natural things: Which Principles he builds of three pieces, Matter, Form and Privation. And what can be more vain, than to make Inanity itself cause of the Production of things? Privation is a Negative: Of what Humour could he than make the Cause and Original of things that are: And yet that were not to be controverted, but for the exercise of Logic. There is nothing disputed neither to bring it into doubt, but to defend the Author of the School from Foreign Objections: His Authority is the non ultra, beyond which it is not permitted to inquire. It is very easy upon approved Foundations to build whatever we please; for according to the Law, and ordering of this beginning, the other parts of the Structure are easily carried on without any failure. By this way we find our Reason well-grounded, and discourse at a venture; for our Masters prepossess and gain before hand as much room in our Belief, as is necessary towards concluding afterwards what they please: As Geometricians do by their granted Demands: The Consent and Approbation we allow them, giving them power to draw us to the Right and Left, and to whirl us about at their own pleasure. Whatever springs from these Presuppositions, is our Master and our God: He will take the Level of his Foundations so ample and so easy, that by them he may mount us up to the Clouds, if he so please. In this Practice and Negotiation of Science we have taken the saying of Pythagoras, That every expert person ought to be believed in his own Art, for current pay. The Logician refers the signification of words to the Grammarian, the Rhetorician borrows the State of Arguments from the Logician: The Poet his measure from the Musician, the Geometrician his Proportions from the Arithmetician, and the Metaphysicians take Physical Conjectures from their Foundations. For every Science has its Principles presupposed, by which Human Judgement is everywhere limited. If you come to rush against the Bar where the principle Error lies; they have presently this Sentence in their Mouths, That there is no disputing with persons, who deny Principles. Now Men can have no Principles, if not revealed to them by the Divinity, of all the rest the beginning, the middle and the end, is nothing but dream and vapour. To those that contend upon Presupposition, we must on the contrary presuppose to them the same Axiom upon which the dispute is. For every Human Presupposition and Declaration has as much Authority one as another, if reason do not make the difference. Wherefore they are all to be put into the Balance, and first the Generals, and those that tyrannize over us. The Persuasion of Certainty is a certain Testimony of Folly and extreme Incertainty; and there are not a more foolish sort of Men, nor that are less Philosophers, than the Philodoxes of Plato. We must inquire, whether Fire be hot, whether Snow be white, if there be any such things as hard or soft. And as to those Answers of which they make old Stories, as he that doubted if there were any such thing as heat, whom they bid throw himself into the Fire, and he that denied the coldness of Ice, whom they bade to put a Cake of Ice into his Bosom, they are pitiful things unworthy of, and much below the Profession of Philosophy. If they had let us alone in our Natural Being, to receive the appearance of things without us, according as they present themselves to us by our Senses; and had permitted us to follow our own Natural Appetites, and governed by the Condition of our Birth, they might then have reason to talk at that rate; but 'tis from them, that we have learned to make ourselves Judges of the World: 'Tis from them that we derive this Fancy, that Human Reason is Controller General of all that is without and within the Roof of Heaven, that comprehends every thing, that can do every thing: By the means of which, every thing is known and understood. This Answer would be good amongst Cannibals, who enjoy the happiness of a long, quiet and peaceable Life without Aristotle's Precepts, and without the knowledge of the Name of Physics. This Answer would peradventure be of more value, and greater force than all those they borrow from their Reason and Invention. Of this, all Animals, and all, where the power of the Law of Nature is yet pure and simple, but those they have renounced, would be as capable as we. They need not tell us, it is true, for we see and feel it to be so: They must tell me whether I really feel what I think I do; and if I do feel it, they must then tell me why I feel it, and how, and what: Let them tell me the Name, Original, the Part and Junctures of Heat and Cold, the Qualities of the Agent and Patient: Or let them give up their Profession, which is not to admit or approve of any thing, but by the way of Reason, that is, their Test in all sorts of Essays. But certainly 'tis a Test full of Falsity, Error, Weakness and Defect. Which way can we better prove it, than by itself? If we are not to believe her when speaking of herself, she can hardly be thought fit to judge of Exotic things; if she know any thing, it must at least be her own Being and Abode. She is in the Soul, and either a part or an effect of it: For true and essential Reason, from which we by a false Colour borrow the Name, is lodged in the Bosom of the Almighty. There is her Habitation and Recess, and 'tis from thence that she imparts her rays, when God is pleased to impart any beam of it to Mankind, as Pallas issued from her Father's Head, to communicate herself to the World. Now let us see what Human Reason tells us of herself, and of the Soul: Not of the Soul in general, of which almost all Philosophy makes the Celestial and first Bodies Participants: Nor of that which Thales attributed to things, which themselves are reputed inanimate, drawn on so to do by the Consideration of the Loadstone: But of that which appertains to us, and that we ought the best to know, 

Ignoratur enim quae sit natura animai, 
Lucret. lib. 1.   
Nata sit, an contrà nascentibus insinuetur,  
Et simul intereat nobifcum morte dirempta,  
An tenebras Orci visat, vastásque lacunas  
An pecudes alias divinitus insinuet se.   

For none the Nature of the Soul doth know,  
Whether that it be born with us, or no;  
Or be infused into us at our Birth,  
And dies with us when we return to Earth,  
Or does descend to the black Shades below,  
Or into other Animals does go.   Crates and Dicaearchus were of Opinion, that there was no Soul at all; but that the Body thus stirs by a Natural Motion: Plato, that it was a Substance moving of itself; Thales, a Nature without repose: Asclepiades, an exercising of the Senses: Hesiod and Anaximander, a thing composed of Earth and Water: Parmenides, of Earth and Fire: Empedocles, of Blood: 


Aeneid. lib. 9  Sanguineam vomit ille animam.   

He vomits up his bloody Soul.   Possidonius, Cleanthes and Galen, that it was heat, or a hot Complexion; 


Aeneid. lib. 9  Igneus est ollis vigour, & caelestis origo.   

Their Vigour is of Fire, and does prove  
Itself descended from the Gods above.   Hypocrates, a Spirit difused all over the Body: Varro, that it was an Air received at the Mouth, heated in the Lungs, moistened in the Heart, and diffused throughout the whole Body. Zeno, the Quintessence of the four Elements: Heraclitus Ponticus, that it was the Light: Xenocrates and the Egyptians, a Mobile Number: The Chaldaeans, a Virtue without any determinate Form. 


Lucret. lib. 6.  Habitum quendam vitalem corporis esse,  
Harmoniam Graeci quam dicunt.   

A vital Habit in Man's Frame to be,  
Which by the Greeks is called a Harmony.   Let us not forget Aristotle, who held the Soul to be that which naturally causes the Body to move, which he calls Entelechia, with as cold an Invention as any of the rest: For he neither speaks of the Essence, nor of the Original, nor of the Nature of the Soul, only takes notice of the Effect. Lactantius, Seneca, and most of the Dogmatists, have confessed, that it was a thing they did not understand. And after all this enumeration of Opinions: 
Cicero in Philos.  Harum sententiarum quae vera fit, Deus aliquis viderit: Says Cicero: Of these Opinions, which is the true, let some God determine. I know by myself, says St. Bernard, how incomprehensible God is, seeing I cannot comprehend the part of my own being. Heraclitus, who was of Opinion, that every place was full of Souls and Daemons, did nevertheless maintain, that no one could advance so far towards the knowledge of his Soul, as ever to arrive at it, so profound was the Essence of it. Neither is there less controversy and debate about seating of it. Hypocrates and Hierophilus place it in the Ventricle of the Brain: Democritus and Aristotle throughout the whole Body: 

Vt bona saepe valetudo cum dicitur esse 
Lucret. lib. 3.   
Corporis, & non est tamen haec pars ulla valentis.   

As when the Body's Health they do it call,  
When of a sound Man, that's no part at all.   Epicurus, in the Stomach; 

Hic exultat enim pavor, ac metus, haec loca circùm  
Laetitiae mulcent. 
Ibid.    

For this the Seat of Horror is and Fear,  
And Joys in turn do likewise triumph here.   The Stoics, about and within the Heart: Erasistratus, adjoining the Membrane of the Epicranion: Empedocles, in the Blood, as also Moses, which was the reason why he interdicted eating the Blood of Beasts, because the Soul is their seated: Galen thought, that every part of the Body had its Soul: Strato has placed its betwixt the Eyebrows: 
Cicer. Thus. l. 1.  Qu● fancy quidem sit animus, aut ubi habitet, ne quaerendum quidem est: What Figure the Soul is of, or what part it inhabits, is not to be enquired into, says Cicero. I very willingly deliver this Author to you in his own words: For should I go about to alter Eloquence itself? Besides it were but an easy prize to steal the Matter of his Inventions. They are neither very frequent, nor of any great weight, and sufficiently known. But the reason why Chrysippus argues it to be about the Heart, as all the rest of that Sect do, is not to be omitted. It is, says he, because when we would affirm any thing, we lay our hand upon our Breasts: And when we will pronounce 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which signifies I, we let the lower Mandable fall towards the Stomach. This place ought not to be overslipt without a Remark upon the Vanity of so great a Man: For besides that these Considerations are infinitely light in themselves, the last is only a a proof to the Greeks, that they have their Souls lodged in that part. No Human Judgement is so sprightly and vigilant, that it does not sometimes sleep. Why should we be afraid to speak? We see the Stoics, who are the Fathers of Human Prudence, have found out, that the Soul of Man crushed under a ruin, does long labour and strive to get out, like a Mouse caught in a Trap, before it can disengage itself from the Burden. Some hold, that the World was made to give Bodies, by way of Punishment, to the Spirits fallen, by their own Fault, from the Purity wherein they had been created: The first Creation having been no other than incorporeal: And that according as they are more or less depraved from their Spirituality, so are they, or more or less jocundly or dully incorporated. And that thence proceeds all the Variety of so much created Matter. But the Spirit that, for his Punishment, was invested with the Body of the Sun, must certainly have a very rare and particular Measure of Thirst. The extremities of our Perquisition do all fall into, and terminate in, Astonishment and Blindness. As Plutarch says of the Testimony of Histories; that, according to Charts and Maps, the utmost Bounds of known Countries are taken up with Marshes, impenetrable Forests, Deserts and uninhabitable places. And this is the reason why the most gross and childish Rave were most found in those Authors who treat of the most elevated Subjects, and proceed the furthest in them: Losing themselves in their own Curiosity and Presumption. The beginning and end of Knowledge, are equally reputed Foolish. Observe to what a pitch Plato flies in his Poetic Clouds: Do but take notice there of the Gibberish of the Gods. But what did he dream of when he defined a Man to be a two begged Animal without Feathers: Giving those who had a mind to deride him, a pleasant occasion? For having pulled a Capon alive, they called it the Man of Plato. And what did the Epicureans think of, out of what simplicity did they first imagine, that their Atoms, that they said were Bodies, 
The Atoms of the Epicureans. What.  having some weight and a natural motion downwards, had made the World: Till they were put in mind by their Adversaries, that, according to this Description, it was impossible they should unite and join to one another, their fall being so direct and perpendicular▪ and many, so many parallel Lines throughout? Wherefore there was a necessity that they should since add a fortuitous and side-ways motion, and that they should moreover accoutre their Atoms with hooked Tails, by which they might afterwards unite and cling to one another. And even then do not those that attack them upon this Second Invention, put them hardly to it? If the Atoms have by chance formed so many sorts of Figures, why did it never fall out that they made a House or a Shoe? Why at the same rate should we not believe, that an infinite Number of Greek Letters, strowed all over a certain place, might possibly fall into the Contexture of the Iliad? Whatever is capable of Reason, says Zeno, is better than that which is not capable: There is nothing better than the World: The World is therefore capable of Reason. Cotta, by this way of Argumentation, makes the World a Mathematician: And 'tis also made a Musician and an Organist, by this other Argumentation of Zeno: The Whole is more than a Part; we are capable of Wisdom, and are part of the World: Therefore the World is wise. There are infinite like Examples, not only of Arguments that are false in themselves, but silly ones, that do not hold in themselves, and that accuse their Authors not so much of Ignorance, as Impudence in the Reproaches, the Philosophers dash one another in the Teeth withal, upon the Dissensions in their Sects and Opinions. Whoever should bundle up a lusty Faggot of the Fooleries of Human Wisdom, would produce wonders. I willingly muster up these few for a Pattern, by a certain meaning not less profitable, than the most moderate Instructions. Let us judge by these, what Opinion we are to have of Man of his Sense and Reason; when in these great persons, and that have raised Human Knowledge so high, so many gross and manifest Errors and Mistakes are to be found. For my part, I am apt to believe, that they have treated of Knowledge casually; and like a Toy, with both hands, and have contended about Reason, as of a vain and frivolous Instrument, setting on foot all sorts of Fancies and Inventions, sometimes more sinewy, and sometimes weaker. This same Plato, who defines Man, as if he were a Cock, says elsewhere, after Socrates, that he does not in truth, know what Man is, and that he is a Member of the World the hardest to understand. By this variety and instability of Opinions, they tacitly lead us, as it were, by the hand to this Resolution of their Irresolution. They profess not always to deliver their Opinions barefaced and apparent to us; they have one while disguised them in the fabulous Shadows of Poesy, and another in some other Vizor: For our Imperfection carries this also along with it, that crude Meats are not always proper for our Stomaches; they must dry, alter and mix them: They do the same: They oft conceal their real Opinions and Judgements, and falsify them to accommodate themselves to the Public Usance: They will not make an open Profession of Ignorance, and of the Imbecility of Human Reason, that they may not fright Children: But they sufficiently discover it to us under the appearance of a troubled and inconstant Science. I advised a Person in Italy, who had a great mind to speak Italian, that provided he only had a desire to make himself understood, without being ambitious to excel, that he should only make use of the first words that came to the Tongues end, whether Latin, French, Spanish or Gascon, and that in adding the Italian Terminations, he could not fail of hitting upon some Idiom of the Country either Tuscan, Roman, Venetian, Piedmentois or Neapolitan, and to apply himself to some one of those many Forms. I say the same of Philosophy, she has so many Faces, so much Variety, and has said so many things, that all our Dreams and Rave are there to be found. Humane Fancy can conceive nothing good or bad that is not there: 
Cicero de Divin. l. 1.  Nihil tam absurdè dici potest, quod non dicatur ab aliquo Philosophorum. Nothing can be so absurdly said, that has not been said before by some of the Philosophers. And I am the more willing to expose my Whimsies to the Public: Forasmuch as, though they are spun out of myself, and without any Pattern, I know they will be found related to some ancient Humour, and some will not stick to say, See, whence he took it: My Manners are Natural, I have not called in the assistance of any Discipline to erect them: But weak as they are, when it came into my head to lay them open to the World's view, and that to expose them to the Light in a little more decent Garb, I went about to adorn them with Reasons and Examples: It was a wonder to myself, accidentally to find them conformable to so many Philosophical Discourses and Examples. I never knew what Regiment my Life was of, till after it was near worn out and spent. A new Figure: An unpremeditate and accidental Philosopher. But to return to the Soul, in that Plato has placed the Reason in the Brain, the Anger in the Heart, and the Concupiscence in the Liver; 'tis likely that it was rather an Interpretation of the Movements of the Soul, than that he intended a Division and Separation of it, as of a Body into several Members: And the most likely of their Opinions is, that 'tis always a Soul, that by its Faculty, Reasons, remembers, comprehends, judges, desires and exercises all its other Operations by divers Instruments of the Body, as the Pilot guides his Ship according to his Experience, one while straining or slacking the Cordage, one while hoisting the Mainyard, or removing the Rudder, by one and the same strength carrying on so many several effects: And that it is lodged in the Brain, which appears in that the Wounds and Accidents that touch that part, do immediately offend the Faculties of the Soul: And 'tis not incongruous, that it should thence diffuse itself into the other parts of the Body: 


Claud. in Paneg. de Consal. Hon. — medium non diserit unquam  
Caeli Phoebus iter radiis tamen omnia lustrat.   

Phoebus ne'er deviates from the Zodiack's way;  
Yet all things does illustrate with his Ray.   As the Sun sheds from Heaven's Light and Influence, and fills the World with them. 


Lucret. lib. 3.  Caetera pars animae per totum dissita corpus  
Paret, & ad numen mentis, noménque movetur.   

The other part o'th' Soul diffused all o'er  
The Body, does obey the Reason's lore.   Some have said, that there was a General Soul, as it were a great Body, from whence all the particular Souls were extracted, and thither again return, always restoring itself to that Universal Matter. 

— Deum namque ire per omnes  

Virg. Geor lib. 4.  Terrásque tractusque maris, caelumque profundum:  
Hinc pecudes, armenta, viros, genus omne ferarum:  
Quemque sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas,  
Scilicet huc reddi deinde, ac resoluta referri  
Omnia: Nec morti esse locum:   

— For they suppose  
That God through Earth, the Sea and Heavens goes.  
Hence Men, Beasts, Reptiles, Infects, Fishes, Fouls  
Take all their issue to the Light, their Souls;  
And there again restore them when they die,  
They being not subject to Mortality.   Others, that they only rejoined and reunited themselves to it, others that they were produced from the Divine Substance: Others by the Angels of Fire and Air: Others that they were from all Antiquity; and some that they were created at the very Article of time, the Bodies wanted them: Others make them to descend from the Orb of the Moon, and to return thither. The generality of the Ancients, that they were begot from Father to Son, after a like manner, and produced with all other Natural things; raising their Argument from the likeness of Children to their Fathers. 

Instillata patris virtus tibi, 
Hor. lib. 4▪ Ode. 4.   
Forts creantur fortibus, & bonis.   

Thou hast thy Father's Virtues with his Blood;  
For the Brave still spring from the Brave and Good.   And that we see descend from Fathers to their Children, not only Bodily Marks, but moreover a Resemblance of Humours, Complexions and Inclinations of the Soul. 

Denique cur acrum violentia triste leonum 
Lucret. lib. 3.   
Seminium sequitur, dolus vulpibus, & fuga cervis  
A patribus datur, & patrius pavor incitat artus,  
Si non certa suo quia semine seminioque,  
Vis animi pariter crescit cum corpore toto?   

For why should Rage from the fierce Lion's Seed,  
Or from the subtle Fox's Craft proceed,  
Or why the timorous and flying Hart  
His fear and trembling to his Race impart,  
But that a certain Force of Mind does grow,  
And still increases, as the Bodies do?   That thereupon the Divine Justice is grounded, punishing in the Children, the Faults of their Fathers: Forasmuch as the Contagion of Paternal Vices is in some sort imprinted in the Soul of Children, and that the ill government of their Will extends to them. Moreover that if Souls had any other Derivation than a Natural Consequence, and that they had been some other thing out of the Body, they would retain some Memory of their first Being, the Natural Faculties that are proper to them of discoursing, reasoning and remembering, considered. 


Ibid. — Si in corpus nascentibus insinuatur,  
Cur superantes actam aetatem meminisse nequimus,  
Nec vestigia gestarum rerum ulla tenemus?   

For at our Birth if it infused be,  
Why do we then retain no Memory  
Of our foregoing Life, and why no more  
Remember any thing we did before?   For to make the condition of our Souls such as we would have it to be, we must suppose them all knowing, even in their Natural Simplicity and Purity. By these means they had been such, being free from the Prison of the Body, as well before they entered into it, as we hope they shall be after they are gone out of it. And from this knowledge it should follow, that they should remember being get in the Body, as Plato said, That what we learn is no other than a remembrance of what we knew before; a thing which every one by experience may maintain to be false. Forasmuch, in the first place, as that we do not justly remember any thing, but what we have been taught: And that if the Memory did purely perform its Office, it would at least suggest to us something more than what we have learned. Secondly, That which she knew being in her Purity, was a true Knowledge, knowing things as they are by her Divine Intelligence: Whereas here we make her receive Falsehood and Vice, when we instruct her; wherein she cannot employ her Reminiscence, that Image and Conception having never been planted in her. ●o say, that the Corporal Prison does in such sort suffocate her Natural Faculties, that they are there utterly extinct, is first, contrary to this other Belief of acknowledging her Power to be so great, and and the Operations of it, that Men sensibly perceive in this Life so admirable, as to have thereby concluded this Divinity, and past Eternity, and the Immortality to come: 
Ibid.  

Nam si tantopere est animi mutata potestas,  
Omnis ut actarum exciderit retinentia rerum,  
Non ut opinor ea ab letho jam longior errat.   

For if the Mind be changed to that degree,  
As of past things to lose all Memory,  
So great a Change as that, I must confess,  
Appears to me than Death but little less.   Furthermore 'tis here with us, and not elsewhere, that the Forces and Effects of the Soul ought to be considered: All the rest of her Perfections are vain and useless to her; 'tis by her present condition, that all her Immortality is to be rewarded and paid, and of the Life of Man only that she is to render an account: It had been Injustice to have stripped her of her Means and Powers, and to have disarmed her, only from the time of her Captivity and Imprisonment in the Flesh, of her Weakness and Infirmity from the time wherein she was forced and compelled to extract an infinite and perpetual Sentence and Condemnation, and to insist upon the Consideration of so short a time, peradventure but an hour or two, or at the most but an Age, (which have no more proportion with Infinity, than an Instant) for this Momentary Interval to ordain, and definitively to determine of her whole Eternity. It were an unreasonable disproportion to extract an eternal Recompense in consequence of so short a Life. Plato, to defend himself from this inconvenience, will have future Rewards limited to the term of a hundred years, relatively to Human Duration: And of us ourselves there are enough, who have given them Temporal Limits. By this they judged, that the Generation of the Soul followed the common condition of Human things: As also her Life according to the Opinion of Epicurus and Democritus, which has been the most received, in consequence of these fine apparences, that they saw it born, and that according as the Body grew more capable, they saw it increase in Vigour, as the other did; that its feebleness in Infancy was very manifest, and in time its better Strength and Maturity, and after that its Declension and Old Age, and at last its decripitude: 

— gigni pariter cum corpore, 
Ibid.  & unà  
Crescere sentimus, paritèrque senescere mentem.   

Souls with the Bodies to be born we may  
Discern with them t'increase, with them decay.   They perceived it to be capable of divers Passions, and agitated with several painful Motions, from whence it fell into lassitude and uneasiness, capable of Alteration and Change, of Cheerfulness and Stupidity, and Faintness, and subject to Diseases and Injuries, as the Stomach or the Foot: 

— Mentem sanari, 
Ibid.  corpus ut aegrum  
Cernimus, & flecti medicina posse videmus.   

Sick Minds as well as Bodies we do see,  
By Medicines Virtue oft restored to be.   Dazzled and intoxicated with the Fumes of Wine; justled from her Seat by the Vapours of a burning Fever, laid asleep by the application of some Medicaments, and roused awake by others. 

— Corpoream naturam animi esse necesse est, 
Ibid.   
Corporis quoniam telis ictúque laborat.   

There must be of necessity, we find,  
A Nature that's corporal of the Mind,  
Because we evidently see it smarts,  
And wounded is with Shafts the Body darts.   They saw it in Astonishment, and such a one as overthrow all its Faculties through the mere Contagion of a mad Dog, and in that condition to have no Stability of Reason, no Sufficiency, no Virtue, no Philosophical Resolution, no resistance that could exempt it from the subjection of Accidents; The slaver of a contemptible Cur, shed upon the hand of Socrates, to shake all his Wisdom, and all his great and regular Imaginations, and so to annihilate them, as that there remained no Tracen or Footstep of his former Knowledge: 


Ibid. — vis animai  
Conturbatur— & divisa seorsum  
Disjectatur eodem illo distracta veneno.   

Th' power of the Souls disturbed, and when  
That once is but sequestered from her, then  
By the same Poison 'tis dispersed abroad.   And this Poison to find no more resistance in that great Soul, than in that of an Infant of four years old: A Poison sufficient to make all Philosophy, if it were incarnate, to become furious and mad; insomuch that Cato, who ever disdained Death and Fortune, could not endure the sight of a Looking-glass, or of Water, confounded with Horror and Affright at the thought of falling by the Contagion of a mad Dog, into the Disease called by Physicians, Hydrophobia. 


Ibid. — vis morbi distracta per artus  
Turbat agens animam, spumantes aequore falso  
Ventorum ut validis fervescunt viribus undae.   

Throughout the Limbs diffused, the fierce Disease  
Disturbs the Soul, as in the briny Seas,  
The foaming Waves to swell and boil we see  
Stirred by the Wind's impetuosity.   Now as to this particular, Philosophy has sufficiently armed Man to encounter all other Accidents, either with Patience; or if the Search of that costs too dear, by an infallible Defeat, in totally depriving himself of all sentiment: But these are Expedients, that are only of use to a Soul being itself, and in its full power, capable of Reason and Deliberation: But not at all proper for this Inconvenience, where even in a Philosopher, the Soul becomes the Soul of a Madman, troubled, overturned, and lost. Which many Occasions may produce, as a too vehement Agitation that any violent Passion of the Soul may beget in itself; or a Wound in a certain part of the Person, or Vapours from the Stomach, any of which may stupify the Understanding and turn the Brain. 

— Morbis in corporis avius errat  
Saepe animus, dementit enim deliraque fatur, 
Ibid.   
Interdúmque gravi lethargo fertur in altum  
Aeternúmque soporem, oculis nutúque cadenti.   

For when the Body's sick, and ill at ease,  
The Mind does often share in the Disease;  
Wanders, grows wild, and raves, and sometimes by  
A heavy and a stupid Lethargy,  
Is overcome and cast into a deep,  
A most profound and everlasting, Sleep.   The Philosophers, methinks, have not much touched this string, no more than another of the same Importance: They have this Dilemma continually in their Mouths to consolate our mortal Condition: The Soul is either mortal or immortal; if mortal, it will suffer no pain; if immortal, it will change for the better, they never touch the other Branch; what if she change for the worse, and leave to the Poets the menaces of future Torments. But thereby they make themselves a good Game. They are two Omissions, that I often meet with in their Discourses: I return to the first. This Soul loses the use of the sovereign stoical Good, so constant and so firm. Our fine human Wisdom must here yield, and give up her Arms. As to the rest, they did also consider by the vanity of human Reason, that the mixture and association of two so contrary things as mortal and immortal, was unimaginable: 


Ibid.  Quip etenim mortale aeterno jungere, & unà est,  
Consentire putare, & fungi mutua posse,  
Desipere est. Quid enim diversus esse putandum  
Aut magis inter se disjunctum, discrepitánsque,  
quam mortale quod est, immortali atque perenni  
Junctum in concilio, saevas tolerare procellas?   

To join the mortal then and the aetern  
And think they can agree in one concern,  
Is Madness. For what things more differing are  
Unlike betwixt themselves, and fit to jar?  
How can it then be thought, that these should bear,  
When thus conjoined, of Storms an equal share?   Moreover, they perceived the Soul tending towards death, as well as the Body. Simul aevo fessa fatiscit. Which, 
Ibid.  according to Zeno, the Image of Sleep does sufficiently demonstrate to us. For he looks upon it as a fainting and fall of the Soul, as well as of the Body. 
Cicero de Diu. l. 2.  Contrahi animum, & quasi labi putat, atque decidere. He thinks the Mind is transported, and that it slips and falls. And what they perceived in some, that the Soul maintained its force and vigour to the last gasp of Life, they attributed to the variety of Diseases, as it is observable in Men at the last Extremity, that some retain one Sense, and some another, one the Hearing and another the Smell, without any manner of Defects or Alteration; and that there is no so universal a Deprivation, that some parts do not remain vigorous and entire: 

Non alio pacto quam si pes cum dolet agri,  
In nullo caput intera sit fortè dolore.   

As if a sick Man's Foot in pain should be  
And yet his Head perhaps from Dolours free. 
Ibid.    The sight of our Judgement is to Truth, the same that the Owls Eyes are to the Sun, says Aristotle: By what can we better convince him, than by so gross Blindness in so apparent a Light? For the contrary Opinion of the immortality of the Soul, which Cicero says, was first introduced (by the Testimony of the Authors at least) by Pherecides Syrius in the time of King Tullus; (though others attribute it to Thales, and others to others) 'tis the part of human Science, that is treated of with the most doubt and the greatest reservation. The most positive Dogmatists, are in this point, principally to fly to the Refuge of Academy. No one knows what Aristotle has established upon this Subject, no more than all the Ancients in general, who handle it with a wavering Belief: Rem gratissimam promittentium magis quam probantium: A thing more acceptable in the Promisers, than the Provers. He conceals himself in clouds of Words of difficult and unintelligible Sense, and has left to those of his Sect as great a Dispute about his Judgement, as the matter itself. Two things rendered this Opinion plausible to them: One, that without the immortality of Souls, there would be nothing whereon to ground the vain Hopes of Glory, which is a Consideration of wonderful Repute in the World: The other, that it is a very profitable Impression, 
Vice punished by the Divine Justice after Death.  as Plato says, that Vices, when they escape the Discovery and Cognizance of human Justice, are still within the reach of the Divine, which will pursue them even after the Death of the Guilty. Man is excessively solicitous to prolong his Being, and has to the utmost of his Power provided for it. Monuments are erected, and embalming in use, for the Conservation of the Body, and glory to preserve the Name. He has employed all his Wit and Opinion to the rebuilding of himself (impatient of his Form) and to prop himself by his Inventions. The Soul by reason of its Anxiety and Impotence, being unable to stand by itself, wanders up and down to seek out Consolations, Hopes and Foundations, and alien Circumstances, to which she adheres and fixes. And how light or fantastic soever Invention delivers them to it, relies more willingly and with greater Assurance upon them, than itself. But 'tis wonderful to observe, how short the most constant and obstinate Maintainers of this just and clear Persuasion of the Immortality of the Soul do fall, and how weak their Arguments are, when they go about to prove it by human Reason. Somnia sunt non docentis, sed optantis. 
Cic. Acad. lib. 4.  They are Dreams not of the Teacher but Wisher, says one of the Ancients. By which Testimony Man may know, that he owes the Truth he himself finds out to Fortune and Accident; since that even then, when it is fallen into his Hand, he has not wherewith to hold and maintain it, and that his Reason has not Force to make use of it. All things produced by our own Meditation and Understanding, whether true or false, are subject to Incertitude and Controversy. 'Twas for the Chastisement of our Pride, and for the Instruction of our Misery and Incapacity, that God wrought the Perplexity and Confusion at the Tower of Babel. Whatever we undertake without his Assistance, whatever we see without the Lamp of his Grace, is but Vanity and Folly. We corrupt the very Essence of Truth, which is uniform and constant by our Weakness, when Fortune puts it into our Possession. What Course soever Man takes of himself, God still permits it to come to the same Confusion, the Image whereof he so lively represents to us in the just Chastisement wherewith he crushed Nimrod's Presumption, and frustrated the vain Attempt of his proud Structure. Perdam sapientiam sapientium, & prudentiam prudentium reprobabe. 
1 Cor. 1. ●19.  I will destroy the Wisdom of the Wise, and will bring to nothing the Understanding of the Prudent. The Diversity of Idioms and Languages with which he disturbed this work, what are they other, than this infinite and perpetual alteration and discordance of Opinions and Reasons, which accompany and confound the vain Building of human Wisdom? And 'tis to very good effect, that they do so. For what would hold us if we had but the least grain of Knowledge? This Saint has very much obliged me. Ipsa utilitatis occultatio, aut humilitatis exercitatio est, aut elationis attritio. The very concealment of the Utility, is either an exercise of Humility, or a quelling of Presumption. To what a pitch of Presumption and Insolence do we raise our Blindness and Folly? But to return to my Subject, it was truly very good Reason, that we should be beholding to God only, and to the favour of his Grace, for the Truth of so noble a Belief, since from his sole Bounty we receive the Fruit of Immortality, which consists in the Enjoyment of eternal Beatitude. Let us ingeniously confess, that God alone has dictated it to us and the Faith: For 'tis no Lesson of Nature and our own Reason. And whoever will inquire into his own Being and Power, both within and without, without this divine Privilege: Whoever shall consider Man impartially, and without Flattery, will see nothing in him of Efficacy, nor any kind of Faculty, that relishes of any thing but Death and Earth. The more we give and confess to owe and render to God, we do it with the greater Christianity. That which this Stoic Philosopher says, he holds from the fortuitous Consent of the popular Voice, had it not been better, that he had held it from God? cum de animorum aeternitate disserimus, non leve momentum apud nos habet consensus hominum, 
Seneca. Epist. 117.  aut timentium inferos, aut colentium. Vtor hac publica persuasione. When we discourse of the Immortality of Souls, the consent of Men, that either fear or adore the infernal Power, is of no small Advantage. I make use of this public Persuasion. Now the weakness of human Arguments upon this Subject, is particularly manifested by the fabulous Arguments they have superadded as Consequences of this Opinion, to find out of what Condition this Immortality of ours was. Let us omit the Stoics, Vsuram nobis largiuntur, tanquam cornicibus; 
Cicero. Thus. l. 1.  diu mansuros aiunt animos; semper, negant. They give us a long Life, as also they do to Crows; they say our Soul shall continue long, but that it shall continue always, they deny. Who give to Souls a Life after this, but finite. The most universal and received Fancy, and that continues down to our Times, is that, of which they make Pythagoras the Author; (not that he was the original Inventor, but because it received a great deal of Weight and Repute by the Authority of his Approbation,) is, that Souls at their departure out of us, did nothing but shift from one Body to another, from a Lion to a Horse, from a Horse to a King, continually travailing at this rate from Habitation to Habitation. And he himself said, that he remembered he had been Aethalides, since that Euphorbus, and afterwards Hermotimus; and finally from Pyrrhus, was passed into Pythagoras, having a Memory of himself of two hundred and six Years. And some have added that these very Souls sometimes remount to Heaven and come down again. 

O pater, 
Virg. l. 6.  ànne aliquas ad Coelum hinc ire putandum est  
Sublimes animas iterúmque ad tarda reverti  
Corpora? quae lucis miseris tam dira cupido?   

Is it to be believed, that some sublime,  
And highflown Souls, should hence from Heaven climb,  
And thence return t'immure themselves in slow,  
And heavy Prisons of dull Flesh below?   Origen makes them eternally to go and come, from a better to a worse Estate. The Opinion that Varro makes mention of, is, that after four hundred and forty Years Revolution, they should be reunited to their first Bodies. Chrysippus held, that that would happen after a certain space of time unknown and unlimited. Plato (who professes to have embraced this Belief from Pindar and the ancient Poets) thinks they are to undergo infinite Vicissitudes of Mutation, for which the Soul is prepared, having neither Punishment nor reward in the other World, but what is Temporal, as its Life here is but Temporal, concludes that it has a singular Knowledge of the Affairs of Heaven, of Hell, of the World, through all which it has past, repast, and made stay in several Voyages; fit matters for her Memory. Observe her Progress elsewhere; the Soul that has lived well is reunited to the Star, to which it is assigned: That removes into a Woman, and, if it do not there reform, is again removed into a Beast of Condition suitable to its vicious Manners, and shall see no end of its punishments, till it be returned to its natural Constitution, and that it has by the force of Reason purged itself from those gross, stupid, and elementary Qualities it was polluted with. But I will not omit the Objection the Epicureans make against this Transmigration from one Body to another, and 'tis a pleasant one. They ask, what Expedient would be found out, if the number of the dying should chance to be greater, than that of those who are coming into the World. For the Souls, turned out of their old Habitation, would scuffle and crowd which should first get Possession of this new Lodging. And they further demand, how they should pass away their time, whilst waiting till a new Quarter were made ready for them: Or on the contrary, if more Animals should be born, than die, the Body, they say, would be but in an ill Condition, whilst in expectation of a Soul to be infused into it; and it would fall out, that some Bodies would die, before they had been alive. 

Denique connubia adveneris, partúsque ferarum, 
Lucret. lib. 3.   
Esse animas praesto deridiculum esse videtur,  
Et spectare immortales mortalia membra  
Innumero numero, certaréque praeproperanter  
Inter see, quae prima potissimáque insinuetur.   

It seems ridiculous, that Souls should be  
Always attending on Beast's Venery,  
And being immortal, mortal Bodies should,  
Covet to have, and in vast numbers crowd,  
Strive and contend with heat and eagerness,  
Which should the first and most desired possess.   Others have arrested the Soul in the Body of the Deceased, with it to animate Serpents, Worms, and other Beasts, which are said to be bred out of the Corruption of our Members, and even out of our Ashes; Others divide them into two parts, the one mortal, and the other immortal. Others make it Corporeal, and nevertheless Immortal. Some make it Immortal without Science or Knowledge. And there are even of us ourselves who have believed, that Devils were made of the Souls of the Damned; as Plutarch thinks, that Gods we made of those that were saved. For there are few things which that Author is so positive in, as he is in this; maintaining elsewhere a doubtful and ambiguous way of Expression. We are to hold, says he, and steadfastly to believe, that the Souls of Virtuous Men, both according to Nature and the divine Justice, become Saints, and from Saints Demigods, and from Demigods, after they are perfectly, as in Sacrifices of Purgation, cleansed and purified, being delivered from all Passibility, and all Mortality, they become not by any civil Decree, but in real Truth, and according to all probability of Reason, entire and perfect Gods, in receiving a most happy and glorious End. But who desires to see him, him, I say, who is the most sober and moderate of the whole Gang of Philosophers, lay about him with greater Boldness, and relate his Miracles upon this Subject, I refer him to his Treatise of the Moon, and his Daemon of Socrates, where he may as evidently as in any other place whatever, satisfy himself and affirm, that the Mysteries of Philosophy have many strange things in common with those of Poesy; human Understanding losing itself, in attempting to sound and search all things to the Bottom: Even as we, tired and worn out with a long course of Life, return to Infancy and Dotage. See here the fine and certain Instructions, which we extract from human Knowledge, concerning the Soul. Neither is there less Temerity in what they teach us touching our corporal Parts. Let us choose out one or two Examples; for otherwise we should lose ourselves in this vast and troubled Ocean of Medicinal Errors. Let us first know, whether at least they agree about the Matter, whereof Men produce one another. For as to their first Production, it is no wonder if in a thing so high, and so long since past, human Understanding finds itself puzzled and perplexed. Archelaus the Physician, whose Disciple and Favourite Socrates was, according to Aristoxenus, said, that both Men and Beasts were made of a lacteous Slime, expressed by the Heat of the Earth. Pythagoras says, that our Seed is the Foam or Cream of our better Blood. Plato, that it is the Distillation of the Marrow of the Backbone, and raises his Argument from this, that that part is first sensible of being weary of the Work. Alcmeon, that it is part of the Substance of the Brain, and that it is so, says he, it causes weakness of the Eyes in those who are over-immoderately addicted to that Exercise: Democritus, that it is a Substance extracted from the whole Mass of the Body: Epicurus, extracted from Soul and Body: Aristotle, an Excrement drawn from the Aliment of the last Blood which is diffused over all our Members: Others, that it is a Blood concocted and digested by the heat of the Genitories, which they judge, by reason that in excessive Endeavours a Man voids pure florid Blood: Wherein there seems to be the most likelihood, could a Man extract any appearance from so infinite a Confusion. Now to bring this Seed to do its Work, how many contrary Opinions do they set on Foot? Aristotle and Democritus are of Opinion, that Women have no Sperm, and that 'tis nothing but a Sweat that they distil in the heat of Pleasure and Motion, that contributes nothing at all to Generation. Galen on the contrary, and his Followers, believe that without the Concurrence of Seeds, there can be no Generation. Here are the Physicians, the Philosophers, the Lawyers, and Divines, by the Ears with our Wives, about the Dispute, upon what Terms Women conceive their Fruit. And I for my part, by the Example of myself, stickle with those that maintain a Woman going eleven Months with Child. The World is built upon this Experience; there is not so pitiful a little Female that cannot give her Judgement in all these Controversies; and yet we cannot agree. Here is enough to evidence, that Man is no better instructed in the Knowledge of himself, in his corporal, than in his spiritual Part. We have proposed himself to himself, and his Reason to his Reason, to see what she could say, and, I think, I have sufficiently demonstrated how little she understands herself in herself. And who understands not himself in himself, in what can he possibly understand? 
Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 2. cap. 1.  Quasi verò mensuram ullius rei possit agere, qui sui nesciat. As if he could understand the Measure of any other thing, that knows not his own. In earnest, Protagoras told us a pretty Flame, in making Man the measure of all things, that never knew so much as his own. If it be not he, his Dignity will not permit, that any other Creature should have this Advantage. Now he being so contrary in himself, and one Judgement so incessantly subverting another, this favourable Proposition was but a Mockery, which induced us necessarily to conclude the Nullity of the Compass and the Compasser; when Thales reputes the knowledge of Man very difficult for Man to Comprehend, he at the same time gives him to understand, that all other Knowledge is impossible. You, for whom I have taken the Pains, contrary to my Custom, to write so long a Discourse, will not refuse to maintain your Sebonde, by the ordinary Forms of Arguing, wherewith you are every day instructed, and in this will exercise both your Wit and Learning: For this fencing trick, is never to be made use of, but as an extreme Remedy. 'Tis a desperate Thrust wherein you are to quit your own Arms, to make your Adversary abandon his: And a secret Slight, which must be very rarely, and then very reservedly, put in Practice. 'Tis great Temerity to lose yourself, that you may destroy another, you must not die to be revenged, as Gobrias did: For being hotly grappled in Combat with a Lord of Persia, Darius coming in with his Sword in his Hand, and fearing to strike lest he should kill Gobrias; he called out to him boldly to fall on, tho' he should run them both thorough at once. I have known the Arms and Conditions of single Combat to the utmost, and wherein he, that offered them, put himself and his Adversary upon Terms of inevitable Death to them both, censured for unjust. The Portuguese in the Indian Sea took certain Turk's Prisoners, who, impatient of their Captivity, resolved, and it succeeded, by striking the Nails of the Ship against one another, and making a Spark to fall into the Barrels of Powder (that were set in the place, where they were guarded) to blow and reduce themselves, their Masters, and the Vessel to Ashes. We have touched the out-Pale and utmost Limits of Sciences; wherein the Extremity is Vicious, as in Virtue. Keep yourselves in the common Road, it is not good to be so subtle and cunning. Remember the Tuscan Proverb. 


Proverb.  Chi troppo s'assottiglia, si scavezza.   

Who makes himself too Wise, becomes a Fool.   I advise you, that, in all your Opinions and Discourses, as well as in your Manners, and all other things, you keep yourselves moderate and temperate, and to avoid all Novelty. I am an Enemy to all extravagant Ways. You, who by the Authority of your Grandeur, and yet more by the Advantages which those Qualities give you that are most your own, may with the twinck of an Eye command whom you please, aught to give this Caution to some one who made Profession of Letters, who might after a better manner have proved and illustrated these things to you. But here is as much as you will stand in need of. Epicurus said of the Laws, that the worst were necessary for us, and that without them Men would devour one another. And Plato affirms, that without Laws, we should live like Beasts. Our Spirit is a wand'ring, dangerous, and temerarious Utile, it is hard to couple any Order or Measure to it. In those of our own time, who are endued with any rare Excellence above others, or any extraordinary Vivacity of Understanding, we see them almost all lash out into Licence of Opinions and Manners; and 'tis almost a Miracle to find one Temperate and Sociable. 'Tis all the Reason in the World to limit human Wit within the strictest Limits imaginable. In Study, as in all the rest, we ought to have its Steps and Advances numbered and fixed, and that the Limits of its Inquisition be bounded by Act. It is curbed and fettered by Religions, Laws and Customs, by Sciences, Precepts, mortal and Immortal Penalties: and yet we see, that it escapes from all these Bounds by its Volubility and Dissolution. 'Tis a vain Body which has nothing to lay hold on, or to seize, a various and difform Body, incapable of being either bound or held. In earnest, there are few Souls so regular, firm, and well descended, that are to be trusted with their own Conduct; and that can with Moderation, and without Temerity sail in the Liberty of their own Judgements, beyond the common and received Opinions. 'Tis more expedient to put them under Pupillage. Wit is a dangerous Weapon, even to the Possessor, if he knows not discreetly how to use it, and there is not a Beast to whom a Head-board is more justly to be given, to keep his Looks down and before his Feet, and to hinder him from wand'ring here and there out of the Tracks, which Custom and the Laws have laid before him. And therefore it will much better become you to keep yourselves in the beaten Path, let it be what it will, than to fly out at a venture with this unbridled Liberty, But if any of these new Doctors, will pretend to be ingenious in your Presence, at the Expense both of your Soul and his own, to avoid this dangerous Plague, which is every day laid in your way to infect you, this Preservative, in the extremest Necessity, will prevent the Danger, and hinder the Contagion of this Poison from offending either you or your Company. The Liberty then, and frolic Forwardness of these ancient Wits, produced in Philosophy and human Sciences, several Sects of different Opinions, every one undertaking to judge and make choice of what he would stick to and maintain. But now that Men go all one way: Qui certis quibusdam destinatisque sententiis addicti & consecrati sunt, 
Cicero.  ut etiam, quae non probant, cogantur defendere. Who are so tied and obliged to certain Beliefs, that they are bound to defend even those they do not approve: and that we receive the Arts by civil Authority and Decree: So that the Schools have but one Pattern, and a like circumscribed Institution and Discipline, we no more take notice what the Coin weighs, and is really worth; but every one receives it according to the Estimate that common Approbation puts upon it: The Alloy is not disputed, but how much it is currant for; and in like manner all things pass. We take Physic as we do Geometry and Tricks of Hocuspocus, Enchantments, Codpiece-Points, the Correspondence of the Souls of the Dead, Prognostications, Domifications, and so much as this ridiculous pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone, all things pass for currant Pay, without any manner of Scruple or Contradiction. We need to know no more, but that Mars his House is in the middle of the Triangle of the Hand, that of Venus in the Thumb, and that of Mercury in the little Finger, that when the Table-Line cuts the Tubercle of the Fore-Fingers, 'tis a sign of Cruelty; that when it falls short of the middle Finger, 
Sign of Cruelty,  and that the natural Median-Line makes an Angle with the Vital in the same side, 
Of a miserable Death,  'tis a sign of a miserable Death. That if in a Woman the natural Line be open, and does not close the Angle with the Vital, denotes that she shall not be very Chast. 
Of Unchastity.  I leave you to judge, whether a Man, thus qualified, may not pass with Reputation and Esteem in all Companies. Theophrastus' said, that human Knowledge, guided by the Senses, might judge of the Causes of things to a certain degree; but that being arrived to first and extreme Causes, it Must stop short and retire, by reason either of its own infirmity, or the difficulty of things. 'Tis a moderate and gentle Opinion, that our own Understandings may conduct us to the knowledge of some things, and that it has certain Measures of Power, beyond which, 'tis Temerity to employ it. This Opinion is plausible, and introduced by Men of well-composed Minds; but 'tis hard to limit our Wit, 'tis curious and greedy, and will no more stop at a thousand, than at fifty Paces. Having myself experimentally found, that wherein one has failed, the other has hit, and that what was unknown to one Age, the Age following has explained; and that Arts and Sciences are not cast in a Mould, but are formed and perfected by degrees, by often handling and polishing, as Bears leisurely lick their Cubs into shape; what my Force cannot discover, I do not yet desist to sound and to try: But handling and kneading this new Matter over, and over again, by turning and heating it, I lay open to him, that shall succeed me, a kind of Facility to enjoy it more at his ease, and make it more maniable and supple for him:— ut Hymettia sole 


Ovid. Met. lib. 10.  Cera remollescit, tractatáque pollice multas  
Vertitur in facies, ipsóque fit utilis usu.   

As Wax does softer in the Sun become,  

Simile.  And tempered 'twixt the Finger & the Thumb,  
Will various Forms, and several Shapes admit,  
Till for the present use 'tis rendered fit.   As much will the second do to the third, which is the cause that the difficulty ought not to make me despair, and my own Imbecility, as little; for 'tis nothing, but my own. Man is as capable of all things, as of some: And if he confesses, as Theophrastus says, the ignorance of first Causes, let him hard by surrender to me all the rest of his Knowledge: If he is defective in Foundation, his Reason is on the Ground: Disputation and Inquisition have no other aim, nor stop but Principles, if this do not stop his Career, he runs into an infinite Irresolution. Non potest aliud alio magis minusve comprehendi, quoniam omnium rerum una est definitio comprehendendi: One thing can no more be comprehended than another, because the definition of comprehending all things is the same. Now 'tis very likely, that if the Soul knew any thing, it would in the first place know itself, and if it knew any thing out of itself, it would be its own Body and Case, before any thing else. If we see the Gods of Physic to this very day debating about our Anatomy. 
— Mulciber in Trojam, pro Troja stabat Apollo: 
Ovid. Tr. lib. 1. El. 2.   
Vulcan against, for Troy Apollo stood.  When are we to expect, that they will be agreed? We are nearer Neighbours to ourselves, than the whiteness of Snow, or the weight of Stone are to us. If Man does not know himself, how should he know his Forces and Functions? It is not peradventure, that we have not some real Knowledge in us; but 'tis by chance; and forasmuch as Errors are received into our Soul by the same way, after the same manner, and by the same Conduct, it has not wherewithal to distinguish them, nor wherewithal to choose the Truth from Falsehood. The Academics admitted a certain Partiality of Judgement; and thought it too crude to say, that it was not more likely, that Snow was white, than black, and that we were no more assured of the motion of a Stone, thrown by the hand, than of that of the eighth Sphere. And to avoid this difficulty and strangeness, that can, in truth, hardly lodge in our Imagination; though they did conclude, that we were in no sort capable of Knowledge, and that Truth is ingulfed in so profound an Abyss, as is not to be penetrated by Human Sight: Yet do they acknowledge something to be more likely than others, and received into their Judgement this Faculty, that they had a power to incline to one appearance more than another. They allowed him this propension, interdicting all Resolution. The Pyrrhonians Opinion is more bold, and also more likely. For this Academic Inclination, and this Propension to one Proposition rather than another; what is it other, than a Discovery of some more apparent Truth in this, than in that? If our Understanding be capable of the Form, Lineaments, Comportment and Face of Truth, it might as well see it entire, as by halves, springing and imperfect. This appearance of likelihood, which makes them rather take the Left hand, than the Right, augments it: Multiply this Ounce of Verisimilitude, that turns the Scales to a hundred, to a thousand Ounces, it will happen in the end, that the Balance will itself end the Controversy, and determine one Choice, and entire Truth. But why do they suffer themselves to incline to, and be swayed by Verisimilitude, if they know not the Truth? How should they know the Similitude of that, whereof they do not know the Essence: Either we can absolutely judge, or absolutely we cannot. If our intellectual and sensible Faculties are without Foot or Foundation; if they only hull and drive, 'tis to no purpose that we suffer our Judgements to be carried away with any thing of their Operation, what appearance soever they may seem to present us. And the surest and most happy Seat of our Understanding would be that, where it kept itself temperate, upright and inflexible, without tottering, or without agitation. 
Cic. Acad. lib. 4.  Inter visa, vera, aut falsa, ad animi assensum, nihil interest. Amongst things that seem, whether true or false, it signifies nothing to the assent of the mind. That things do not lodge in us in their Form and Essence, and do not there make their entry by their own Force and Authority, we sufficiently see. Because if it were so, we should receive them after the same manner: Wine would have the same relish with the sick, as with the healthful. He who has his Finger chapt or benumbed, would find the same hardness in Wood or Iron that he handles, that another does. Strange Subjects then surrender themselves to our Mercy, and are seated in us as we please. Now if on our part we did receive any thing without alteration, if Human Grasp were capable and strong enough to seize on Truth by our own means, being common to all Men, this Truth would be conveyed from hand to hand from one to another; and at least there would be some one thing to be found in the World amongst so many as there are, that would be believed by Men with an universal Consent. But this, that there is no one Proposition, that is not debated and controverted amongst us, or that may not be, makes it very manifest, that our Natural Judgement does not very clearly discern what it embraces: For my Judgement cannot make my Companions approve of what it approves: Which is a sign that I seized it by some other means, than by a Natural Power that is in me, and in all other Men. Let us lay aside this infinite Confusion of Opinions, which we see even amongst the Philosophers themselves, and this perpetual and universal Dispute about the knowledge of things. For this is truly presupposed, that Men, I mean the most knowing, the best born, and of the best parts, are not agreed about any one thing: Not that Heaven is over our heads: For they that doubt of every thing, do also doubt of that; and they who deny that we are able to comprehend any thing▪ say, that we have not comprehended, that the Heaven is over our heads, and these two Opinions are without comparison the stronger in number. Besides this infinite Diversity and Division, through the Trouble that our Judgement gives ourselves, and the Incertainty that every one is sensible of in himself, 'tis easy to perceive that its Seat is very unstable and unsecure. How variously do we judge of things? How often do we alter our Opinions? What I hold and believe to day, I hold and believe with my whole Belief: All my Instruments and Engines seize and take hold of this Opinion, and become responsible to me for it, at least as much as in them lies; I could not embrace, nor conserve any Truth with greater confidence and assurance▪ than I do this. I am wholly and entirely possessed with it: But has it not befallen me not only once, but a thousand times every day to have embraced some other thing with all the same Instruments, and in the same condition, which I have since judged to be false? A Man must at least become wise at his own expense. If I have often found myself betrayed under this colour, if my Touch prove ordinarily false, and my Balance unequal and unjust, what assurance can I now have more, than at other times? Is it not stupidity and madness to suffer myself to be so often deceived by my Guide? Nevertheless let Fortune remove and shift us five hundred times from place ro place, let her do nothing but incessantly empty and fill into our Belief, as into a Vessel, other and other Opinions; yet still the present and the last is the certain and infallible: For this we must abandon Goods, Honour, Life, Health and all. 

— posterior res illa reperta 
Lucret. lib. 5.   
Perdit, & immutat sensus ad pristina quaeque.   

The last thing we find out is always best,  
And makes us to disrelish all the rest.   Whatever is preached to us, and whatever we learn, we should still remember, that it is Man that gives, and Man that receives; 'tis a mortal Hand that presents it to us, 'tis a mortal Hand that accepts it. The things that come to us from Heaven, have the sole Right and Authority of Persuasion, the sole mark of Truth: Which also we do not see with our own Eyes, nor receive by our own means: That Great and Sacred Image could not abide in so wretched a Habitation, if God for this end did not prepare it, if God did not by his particular and supernatural Grace and Favour, fortify and reform it: At least our frail and defective condition ought to make us comport ourselves with more reservedness and moderation in our Innovations and Change. We ought to remember, that whatever we receive into the Understanding, we often receive things that are false, and that it is by the same Instruments that so often gives themselves the Lie, and are so oft deceived. Now it is no wonder they should so often contradict themselves, being so easy to be turned and swayed by very light Occurrences. It is certain that our Apprehensions, our Judgement, and the Faculties of the Soul in general, suffer according to the Movements and Alterations of the Body; which Alterations are continual. Are not our Wits more sprightly, our Memories more prompt and quick, and our Meditations more lively in Health, than in Sickness? Do not Joy and Gaiety make us receive Subjects that present themselves to our Souls, quite otherwise that Care and Melancholy? Do you believe that Catellus his Verses, or those of Sapph please an old doting Miser, as they do a vigorous and amorous Youngman? Cleomenes the Son of Anaxandridas being sick, his Friends reproached him, that he had Humours and Whimsies that were new and unaccustomed; I believe it, said he, neither am I the same Man now, as when I am in health: Being now another thing, my Opinions and Fancies are also other than they were before. In our Courts of Justice, this word which is spoken of Criminals, when they find the Judges in a good Humour, gentle and mild, Gaudeat de bona fortuna, Let him rejoice in his good Forune, is much in use. For it is most certain that men's Judgements are sometimes more prone to Condemnation, more sharp and severe; and at others more facile, easy, and inclined to excuse. He that carries with him from his House, the pain of the Gout, Jealousy or Theft by his Man, having his whole Soul possessed with Grief and Anger, it is not to be doubted but that his Judgement will lean this way. That venerable Senate, of the Areopagites, was want to hear and determine by night, for fear lest the sight of the Parties might corrupt their Justice. The very Air itself, and the Serenity of Heaven, will cause some mutation in us, according to these Greek Verses in Cicero. 

Tales sunt hominum mentes, 
Cicero ex Incerto.  quali pater ipse  
Juppiter, auctifera lustravit lampade terras.   

The Minds of Men do in the Wether share,  
Dark or serene, as the day's foul or fair.   'Tis not only Fevers, Debauches, and great Accidents that overthrew our Judgements; the least things in the World will do it. We are not to doubt, though we are not sensible of it, but that if a continued Fever can overwhelm the Soul, a Tertian will in some proportionate measure alter it. If an Apoplexy can stupefy, and totally extinguish the sight of our Understanding, we are not to doubt but that a great Cold will dazzle it. And consequently there is hardly one single hour in a Man's whole Life, wherein our Judgement is in its due place and right condition, our Bodies being subject to so many continual mutations, and stuffed with so many several sorts of Springs and Devices, that I believe Physicians how hard it is, but that there must be always some one or other out of order. As to what remains, this Malady does not very easily discover itself, unless it be extreme and past remedy: Forasmuch as reason goes always lame, halting, and that as well with Falsehood, as with Truth; and therefore 'tis hard to discover her Deviations and Mistakes. I always call that appearance of meditation which every one forges in himself, reason: This reason, of the condition of which, there may be a hundred contrary ones about one and the same Subject, is an Instrument of Lead and of Wax, ductile, pliable and accommodable to all sorts of Bias', and to all Measures; so that nothing remains but the Art and Skill, how to turn and mould it. How uprightly soever a Judge may resolve to demean himself, if he be not well looked to himself, which few are careful to do, his Inclination to Friendship, to Relation, to Beauty or Revenge, and not only things of that weight, but even the fortuitous instinct, that makes us favour one thing more than another, and that without the Reasons leave, puts the Choice upon us in two equal Subjects; or some Shadow of like Vanity, may insensibly insinuate into his Judgement, the recommendation or disfavour of a Cause, and make the Balance dip. ay, that watch myself as narrowly as I can, and that have my Eyes continually bend upon myself, like one that has no great business elsewhere to do; 


Hor. l. 2. Ode. 26. — quis sub Areto  
Rex gelidae mettatur orae,  
Quid Tyridatem terreat, unicè  
Securus.—   

— secure whatever King  
Does rule the stubborn North, or whatsoever  
The mighty Tiridates puts in fear.   Dare hardly tell the Vanity and Weakness I find in myself. My Foot is so unstable, and stands so tickle, I find myself so apt to totter and reel, and my Sight so disordered, that fasting I am quite another Man, than when full; if Health and a fair Day smile upon me, I am a very honest good natured Man, if a Corn trouble my Toe, I am sullen, out of Humour, and not to be seen. The same Pace of a Horse seems to me one while hard, and another easy, and the same way one while shorter, and another more long: And the same Form, one while more, and another less taking. I am one while for doing every thing, and another for doing nothing at all; and what pleases me now, would be a trouble to me at another time. I have a thousand senseless and casual Actions within myself. Either I am possessed by Melancholy, or swayed by Choler; now by its own private Authority, Sadness predominates in me, and by and by I am as merry as a Cricket. When I take a Book in hand, I have then discovered admirable Graces in such and such Passages, and such as have struck my Soul, let me light upon them at another time, I may turn and toss, tumble and rattle the Leaves to much purpose, 'tis then to me an inform and undiscovered Mass. Even in my own Writings, I do not always find the Air of my first Fancy: I know not what I would have said, but am often put to it to correct and pump for a new Sense, because I have lost the first that was better. I do nothing but go and come: my Judgement does not always advance, it floats and rooms, 

— velut minuta magno 
Catullus.   
Deprensa navis in mari vesaniente vento.   

Like a small Bark upon the swelling Main,  
When Winds does ruffle up the liquid Plain.   Very often (as I am apt to do) having for Sports sake undertaken to maintain an Opinion contrary to my own, my Mind bending and applying itself that way, does so rarely engage me in the Quarrel, that I no more discern the Reason of my former Belief, and forsake it. I am as it were misled by the Side to which I incline, be it what it will, and carried away by my own Weight. Every one would almost say the same of himself, if he considered himself as I do. Preachers very well know, that the Emotions which steals upon them in speaking, does animate them towards Belief; and that in Passion we are more stiff in the Defence of our Proposition, take ourselves a deeper Impression of it, and embrace it with greater Vehemence and Approbation, than we do in our colder and more temperate Sense. You only give your Council a simple Breviate of your Cause, he returns you a dubious and uncertain Answer, by which you find him indifferent, which side he takes: Have you fed him well that he may relish it the better, does he begin to be really concerned, and do you find him truly interested and zealous in your Quarrel? His Reason and Learning will by degrees grow hot in your Cause, behold an apparent and undobted Truth presents itself to his Understanding, he discovers a new Light in your Business, and does in good earnest Believe, and persuade himself that it is so. Nay I do not know whether the Ardour that springs from Spite and Obstinacy, against the Power and Violence of the Magistrate and Danger; or the Interest of Reputation, may it not have made some Men even to the Stake maintain the Opinion, for which at Liberty, and amongst Friends, he would not have burned his Finger. The Shocks and Justles, that the Soul receives from the Body's Passions▪ can do much in it, but it's own can do a great deal more: To which it is so subjected, that peradventure it is to be made good, that it has no other Pace and Motion, but from the Breath of those Winds, without the Agitation of which, it would be becalmed and without Action, like a Ship in the middle of the Sea, to which the Winds have denied their Assistance. And whoever should maintain this, siding with the Peripatetic, would do us no great Wrong. Seeing it is very well known, that the greatest and most noble Actions of the Soul proceed from, and stand in need of, this Impulse of Passions. Valour, they say, cannot be perfect without the assistance of Anger. 

Semper Ajax fortis, fortissimus tamen in furore. 
Cicero. Thus. l. 4.    

Ajax was always brave, but most when mad.   Neither do we encounter the Wicked and the Enemy vigorously enough, if we be not angry: Nay the Advocate is to inspire the Judges with Indignation, to obtain Justice. Illicite Desires disordered Themistocles and Demosthenes, and have pushed on the Philosophers to Watching, Fasting, and Pilgrimages; and lead us to Honour, Learning and Health, which are all very useful Ends. And this meanness of Soul in suffering Anxiety and Trouble, serves to breed Penitency and Repentance in the Conscience, and to make us sensible of the Scourge of God, and politic Correction for the Chastisement of our Offences. Compassion is a Spur to Clemency and Prudence; and the Prudence of preserving and governing ourselves is roused by our Fear; and how many brave Actions by Ambition? How many by Presumption? Finally there is no brave and spiritual Virtue, without some irregular Agitation. Should it not be one of the Reasons that moved the Epicureans to discharge God from all Care and solicitude of our Affairs, because even the Effects of his Bounty could not be exercised in our Behalf, without disturbing his Repose, by the Means of Passions, which are as so many Spurs and Instruments pricking on the Soul to virtuous Actions? or have they thought otherwise, and taken them for Tempests, that shamefully hurry the Soul from her Tranquillity? 
Cicero. Ibid. l. 5.  Vt maris tranquillitas intelligitur, nulla ne minima quidem, aura fluctus commovente: Sic animi quietus & placatus status cernitur; quum perturbatio nulla est qua moveri queat. As it is understood to be a Calm at Sea, when there is aot the least Breath of Air stirring: So the State of the Soul is discerned to be quiet and appeased, when there is no Perturbation to move it. What varieties of Sense and Reason, what contrariety of Imaginations does the Diversity of our Passions inspire us with? What Assurance than can we take of a thing so mobile and unstable, subject by its Condition to the Dominion of Trouble, and never going other than a forced and borrowed Pace? If our Judgement be in the Power even of Sickness and Perturbation: If it be from Folly and Temerity, that it is held to receive the Impression of things, what Assurance can we expect from it? Is it not a great Boldness in Philosophy, to believe that Men perform the greatest Actions, and nearest approaching the Divinity, when they are Furious, Mad, and besides themselves? We better ourselves by the Astonishment and Privation of Reason. The two natural Ways to enter into the Cabinet of the Gods, and there to foresee the Course of Destiny are Fury and Sleep. This is pleasant to consider. By the Dislocation that Passions cause in our Reason, we must become Virtuous: By its Extirpation occasioned by Madness, as the Image of Death, we become Diviners and Prophets. I was never so willing to believe Philosophy in any thing, as this. 'Tis a Pure Enthusiasm, wherewith Sacred Truth has inspired the Spirit of Philosophy, which makes it confess contrary to its own Proposition, that the most calm, composed, and healthful Estate of the Soul, that Philosophy can seat it in, is not its best Condition. Our waking is more asleep, than Sleep itself; our Wisdom less Wise than Folly: Our Dreams are worth more than our Meditation; and the worst Place we can take is in ourselves. But does not Philosophy think that we are Wise enough to consider, that the Voice that the Spirit utters, when dismissed from Man, so clearsighted, so great, and so perfect, and whilst it is in Man so terrestrial Ignorant and dark, is a Voice proceeding from the Spirit of a dark, terrestrial and ignorant Man; and for this Reason a Voice not to be trusted and believed? I have no great Experience of these vehement Agitations, being of a soft and heavy Complexion, the most of which surprise the Soul on a sudden, without giving it leisure to recollect itself. But the Passion, that is said to be produced by Idleness in the Hearts of young Men, tho' it proceed leisurely, and with a measured Progress, does evidently manifest to those who have tried to oppose its Power, the Violence our Judgement suffers in this Alteration and Conversion. I have formerly attempted to withstand and repel it. For I am so far from being one of those who invite Vices, that I do not so much as follow them, if they do not hale me along: I perceived it to spring, grow and increase in despite of my Resistance; and at last, living and seeing as I was, wholly to seize and possess me; so that, as if newly roused frum Drunkenness, the Images of things began to appear to me quite other than they were wont to be: I evidently saw the Person, I desired, grow and increase in Advantages of Beauty, and to expand and blow fairer by the influence of my Imagination, the Difficulties of my Attempt to grow more easy and smooth; and both my Reason and Conscience to be laid aside: But this Fire being evaporated in an Instant, as from a flash of Lightning, I was aware that my Soul resumed another kind of Sight, and another sort of Estate, and another Judgement. The Difficulties of my Retreat appeared great and invincible, and the same things had quite another Taste and Aspect, than the heat of Desire had presented them to me. Than which Pyrrho himself knows nothing more truly. We are never without Sickness. Agues have their hot and cold Fits; from the Effects of an ardent Passion, we fall again to shivering. As much as I had advanced, so much I retired. 


Aeneid. lib. 11.  Qualis ubi alterno procurrens gurgite pontus,  
Nunc ruit ad terras scopulisque superjacit undam,  
Spumeus, extremámque sinu perfundit arenam:  
Nunc rapidus retro, atque aestu revoluta resorbens  
Sixa fugit, littusque vado labente reliquit.   

As spumy Neptune with repeated Waves,  
Now the pale Shoar, and craggy Beaches laves,  
And like a Drunkard vomits up the Sand,  
That deepest lay in heaving Tides to Land;  
And now retiring thence, as loud does roar,  
Sucking in Pebbles from the new washed Shore.   Now from the Knowledge of this Volubility of mine, I have accidentally begot in myself a certain Constancy of Opinions, and have not much altered those that were first and natural in me. For what Appearance soever there may be in Novelty, I do not easily change, for fear of losing by the Bargain: And besides, I am not capable of choosing, I take other men's Choice, and keep myself in the Station wherein God has placed me, I could not otherwise keep myself from perpetual rolling. Thus have I, by the Grace of God, preserved myself entire, without Anxiety or trouble of Conscience, amidst so many Sects and Divisions, as our Age has produced. The Writings of the Ancients, the best Authors I mean, being full and solid, tempt and carry me which way almost they will: He, that I am reading, seems always to have the most Force, and I find that every one has Reason, tho' they contradict one another. The Facility that good Wits have of rendering every thing likely they would recommend; and that nothing is so strange, to which they do not undertake to give Colour enough to deceive such a Simplicity as mine, this does evidently show the Weakness of their Testimony. The Heaven and the Stars have been three thousand Years in Motion, and all the World were of that Belief, till Cleanthes the Samian, or (according to Theophrastus) Nicetas of Siracusa unbethought him to maintain that it was the Earth that moved, turning about the Axis by the oblique Circle of the Zodiac. And Copernicus has in our times so grounded this Doctrine, that it very regularly serves to all Astrological Consequences. What use can we make of this, if not, that we ought not much to care, which is the true Opinion? And who knows but that a third, a thousand Years hence, may overthrow the two former? 


Lucr. l. 5.  Sic volvenda aetas commuta tempora rerum,  
Quodque fuit in pretio, fit nullo denique honore,  
Porro aliud succedit, & è contemptibus exit,  
Inque dies magis appetitur, floretque repertum  
Laudibus, & miro est mortales inter honore.   

Things are so changed by Revolution,  
That what had Credit once, had after none,  
To which some other things despised, before,  
succeeds, & grows in Vogue still more & more,  
And once received, all Praise too little seems,  
So highly it is raised in men's Esteems.   So that when any new Doctrine presents itself to us, 
Why new Opinions are to be rejected.  we have great Reason to mistrust; and to consider that before that was set on foot, the contrary had been generally received; and that as that has been overthrown by this, 
Aristotle's Principles in Vogue.  a third Invention in time to come, may start up which may damn the second. Before the Principles that Aristotle introduced were in Reputation, other Principles contented human Reason, as these satisfy us now. What Patent have these People, what particular Privilege, that the Career of our Invention must be stopped by them, and that to them should appertain the Possession of our whole future Belief? They are no more exempt from being thrust out of Doors than their Predecessors were. When any one presses me with a new Argument, I ought to believe, that what I cannot answer, another can: For to believe all Likelihoods that a Man cannot confute, is great Simplicity: It would by that means come to pass, that all the Vulgar, (and we are all of the Vulgar, would have their Belief as turnable as a Weathercock: For the Soul being so easy to be imposed upon, and without any Resistance, must of force incessantly receive other and other Impressions, the last still effacing all Footsteps, of that which went before. He that finds himself weak, aught to answer according to Practice, that he will speak with his Council, or refer himself to the Wise, from whom he received his Instruction. How long is it that Physic has been practised in the World? 'Tis said, that a new Comer, called Paracelsus, changes and overthrows the whole Order of ancient Rules, and maintains that till now, it has been of no other use, but to kill Men. I do believe that he will easily make this good: But I do not think it were Wisdom to venture my Life in making trial of his own Experience. We are not to believe every one, (says the Precept) because every one can say all things. A Man of this Profession of Novelties and Physical Reformations, not long since told me, that all the Ancients were notoriously mistaken in the Nature and Motions of the Winds, which he would evidently demonstrate to me, if I would give him the hearing. After I had with some Patience heard his Arguments, which were all full of likelihood of Truth: What then said I, did those that failed according to Theophrastus, make way Westward, when they had the Prow towards the East! did they go Sideward or Backward? That's Fortune, answered he; but so it is, that they were mistaken. I than replied, that I had rather follow Effects than Reason. Now these are things that often interfere, and I have been told that in Geometry, (which pretends to have gained the highest Point of Certainty of all Science) there are Demonstrations found so inevitable, as subvert the Truth of all Experience. As Jaques Pelletier told me at my own House, that he had found out two Lines stretching themselves one towards the other to meet, which nevertheless he affirmed, though extended to all Infinity, could never happen to touch one another; and the Pyrrhonians make no other use of their Arguments and their Reason, than to ruin the Appearance of Experience; and 'tis a wonder, how far the suppleness of our Reason has followed them in this Design of controverting the Evidence of Effects. For they affirm, that we do not move, that we do not speak, and that there is neither Weight nor Heat, with the same force of Argument, that we verify the most likely things. Ptolemy, who was a great Man, had established the Bounds of this World of ours: All the Ancient Philosophers thought they had the Measure of it, excepting some remote Isles, that might escape their Knowledge: It had been Pyrrh●nism a thousand Years ago, to doubt the Science of cosmography, and the Opinions that every one had thence received: It was Heresy to hold the Antipodes; and behold in this Age of ours there is an infinite Extent of firm Land discovered, not an Island, or a particular Country; but a part very near equal in Greatness to that we knew before. The Geographers of our times stick not to assure us, that now all is found, all is seen; 

Nam quod adest praesto, placet, & pollere videtur. 
Ibid.    

What present is does please, and seems the best.   But the Question is, whether, if Ptolemy was therein formerly deceived, upon the Foundations of his Reason, it were not very foolish to trust now in what these People say: And whether it is not more like, that this great Body, which we call the World, is not quite another thing, than what we imagine. Plato says, that it changes Countenance in all Respects: That the Heavens, the Stars, and the Sun, have all of them sometimes Motions retrograde to what we see, changing East into West. The Egyptian Priests told Herodotus, that from the time of their first King, 
Several Opinions concerning the World.  which was eleven thousand and odd Years (and they showed him the Effigies of all their Kings in Statues taken by the Life) the Sun had four times altered his Course: That the Sea and the Earth did alternately change into one another. Aristotle and Cicero, both say, that the Beginning of the World is undetermined. And some amongst us are of Opinion, that it has been from all Eternity, is mortal, and renewed again by several Vicissitudes; calling Solomon and Isaiah to witness: To evade those Oppositions, that God has once been a Creator without a Creature; that he has had nothing to do, that he has contradicted that Vacancy, by putting his Hand to this Work; and that consequently he is subject to Change. In the most famous of the Greek Schools, the World is taken for a God, made by another God greater than he, and is composed of a Body and a Soul, fixed in his Centre, and dilating himself by musical-Numbers to his Circumference: Divine, infinitely Happy, and infinitely Great, infinitely Wise and Eternal. In him are other Gods, the Sea, the Earth, the Stars, who entertain one another with a harmonious and perpetual Agitation, and divine Dance: Sometimes meeting, sometimes retiring from one another; concealing and discovering themselves, changing their Order, one while before, and another behind. Heraclitus was positive that the World was composed of Fire, and by the order of Destiny was one Day to be inflamed and consumed in Fire, and then to be again renewed. 
Apuleius.  And Apuleius says of Men: Sigillatim mortales, cunctim perpetui. That they are Mortal in particular, and Immortal in general. Alexander writ to his Mother the Narration of an Egyptian Priest drawn from their Monuments, testifying the Antiquity of that Nation to be infinite, and comprising the Birth and Progress of other Countries. Cicero and Diodorus say, that in their time the Chaldees kept a Register of four hundred thousand and odd Years. Aristotle, Pliny, and others, that Zoroaster flourished six thousand Years before Plato's time. Plato says, that they of the City of Sais have Records in Writing of eight thousand Years: And that the City of Athens was built a thousand Years before the said City of Sais. Epicurus, that at the same time things are here in the Posture we see, they are alike and in the same manner in several other Worlds. Which he would have delivered with greater Assurance, had he seen the Similitude and Concordance of the new discovered World of the West-Indies, with ours present, and past in so many strange Examples. In earnest, considering what is arrived at our Knowledge from the Course of this terrestrial Policy, I have often wondered to see in so vast a Distance of Places and Times, such a Concurrence of so great a number of popular and wild Opinions, and of savage Manners and Beliefs, which by no means seem to proceed from our natural Meditation, Human Wit is a great Worker of Miracles. But this Relation has moreover, I know not what of Extraordinary in it, 'tis found to be in Names also, and a thousand other things. For they found Nations there, (that for aught we know) never heard of us) where Circumcision was in use: 
Circumcision.  Where there were States and strict Civil Goverments maintained by Women only, without Men: Where Feasts and Lent were represented, to which was added the Abstinence from Women: Where our Crosses were several ways in Repute: Where they were made use of to Honour and adorn their Sepultures, where they were erected, and namely that of St. Andrew, 
St. Andrew his Cross.  to protect themselves from Nocturnal Visions, and to lay upon the Cradles of the Infants against Enchantments: Elsewhere there was found one of Wood of very great Stature, which was adored for the God of Rain, 
A Cross adored for the God of Rain.  and that a great way into the firm Land, where there was seen an express Image of our Shriving-Priests, with the use of Mitres, the Coelibacy of Priests, the Art of Divination by the Entrails of Sacrificed Beasts, Abstinence from all sorts of Flesh and Fish in their Diet, the manner of Priest's Officiating in a particular and not a vulgar Language: And this Fancy, that the first God was dishonoured by a second, his younger Brother: That they were Created with all sorts of Necessaries and Conveniences, 
The Creation of the World.  which have since been taken from them for their Sins, their Territory changed, and their natural Condition made worse: That they were of old overwhelmed by the Inundation of Water from Heaven, that but few Families escaped, who retired into Caves of high Mountains, the Mouths of which they so stopped, that the Waters could not get in, having shut up, together with themselves, several sorts of Animals, that when they perceived the Rain to cease, they sent out Dogs, which returning clean and wet, they judged that the Water was not much abated: Afterward sending out others, and seeing them return dirty, they issued out to repeople the World, which they found only full of Serpents. In one place they met with the persuasion of a day of Judgement; 
The day of Judgement.  insomuch that they were marvellously displeased at the Spaniards for discomposing the Bones of the Dead, in rifling the Sepultures for Riches, saying that those Bones so disordered, could not easily rejoin: The Traffic by Exchange, and no other way, Fairs and Markets for that end: Dwarves and deformed people for the Ornament of the Tables of Princes: 
Dwarves at the Tables of Princes.  The use of Falconry according to the Natures of their Hawks; tyrannical Subsidies: Curiosity in Gardens, Dances, tumbling Tricks, Music of Instruments, Armouries, Tennis Courts, Dice and Lotteries, 
Divers sorts of Games.  wherein they are sometimes so eager and hot, as to stake and play themselves and their liberty: Physic, no otherwise, than by Charms: And the way of writing in Cipher: The belief of only one first Man, the Father of all Nations: The Adoration of one God, who formerly lived a Man in perfect Virginity, Fasting and Penitence preaching the Law of Nature, 
Adoration of one God made man.  and the Ceremonies of Religion; and that vanished from the World without a Natural Death: The Opinion of Giants; the Custom of making themselves drunk with their Beverages, and drinking to the utmost: The religious Ornaments painted with Bones and dead men's Sculls: Surplices, Holy Water sprinkled; Wives and Servants who present themselves with Emulation, to be burnt and interred with the dead Husband or Master: A Law by which the Eldest succeeds to all the Estate, no other Provision being made for the Younger, but Obedience: The Custom that upon Promotion to a certain Office of great Authority, the Promoted is to take upon him a new Name, and to leave that he had before: Another to strew Lime upon the Knee of the Newborn Child; with those Words, From Dust thou camest, and to Dust thou must return: As also the Art of Augury: These vain shadows of our Religion, which are observable in some of these Examples, are Testimonies of its Dignity and Divinity. Its is not only in some sort insinuated into all the Infidel Nations one this side of the World, by a certain Imitation, but into the forenamed Barbarians also, as by a common and supernatural Inspiration: For we find there the Belief of Purgatory, 
A new sort of Purgatory.  but of a new Form; that which we give to the Fire, they give to the Cold, and imagine that the Souls are both purged and punished by the rigour of an excessive Coldness. And this Example puts me in mind of another pleasant diversity: For as there were in hat place some people, who, took a Pride to strip and unmuffle the Glances of their Instruments and clipped off the Prepuce after the Mahometan and Jewish manner; there were others, who made so great conscience of laying it bare, that they carefully pursed it up with little Strings, to keep that end from peeping into the Air. And of this other diversity, that whereas we to honour Kings and Festivals, put on the best clothes we have: In some Religions to express their Disparity and Submission to their King, his Subjects present themselves before him in their vilest Habits, and entering his Palace, throw some old tattered Garment over their better Apparel, to the end that all the Lustre and Ornament may solely remain in him. But to proceed; if Nature enclose within the Bounds of her ordinary Progress, the Beliefs, Judgements and Opinions of Men, as well as all other things: If they have their Revolution, their Season, their Birth and Death, like Cabage Plants: If the Heavens agitate and rule them at their pleasure, what Magisterial and Permanent Authority do we attribute to them? If we experimentally see, that the Form of our Being depends upon the Air, upon the Climate, and upon the Soil where we are born: And not only the Colour, the Stature, the Complexion and the Countenances, but moreover the very Faculties of the Soul itself: Et plaga Caeli non solùm ad robur corporum, 
Veget. l. 1. cap. 2.  sed etiam animorum facit: The Climate is of great Efficacy, not only to the strength of Bodies, but to that of Souls also, says Vegetius: And that the Goddess who founded the City of Athens chose to situate it in a temperature of Air fit to make Men prudent, 
Cicero. de Fato.  as the Egyptian Priests told Solon: Athenis tenue Caelum: Ex quo etiam cutiores putantur Attici: Crassum Thebis: Itaque pingues Thebani, & valentes: The Air of Athens is subtle and thin: From whence also the Athenians are reputed to be more acute: And at Thebes more gross and thick, wherefore the Thebans are looked upon as more heavy-witted, and more strong: In such sort that as the Fruits and Animals differ, the Men should also be more or less warlike, just, temperate and docile, here given to Wine, elsewhere to Theft or Uncleanness: Here inclined to Superstition; elsewhere to Miscreancy: In one place to Liberty, in another to Servitude; capable of one Science, or of one Art, Dull or Ingenious, Obedient or Mutinous, Good or Ill, according as the place where they are seated inclines them, and assume a new Complexion, if removed, like Trees: Which was the reason, why Cyrus would not grant the Persians leave to quit their rough and craggy Country to remove to another more pleasant and plain: Saying, that fertile and tender Soils made Men effeminate and soft. If we see one while one Art, and one Belief flourish, and another while another, through some Celestial Influence: Such an Age to produce such Natures, and to incline Mankind to such and such a Propension: The Spirits of Men one while gay, and another grum; like our Fields, what becomes of all those fine Prerogatives we so soothe ourselves withal? Seeing that a wise Man may be mistaken, a hundred Men, a hundred Nations, nay that even Human Nature itself, as we believe, is many Ages wide in one thing or another, what assurance have we that she sometimes is not mistaken, or not in this very Age of ours? Methinks, that amongst others Testimonies of our Imbecility, this ought not to be forgotten, that Man cannot, by his own Wish and Desire, find out what is necessary for him, that not in Fruition only, but in Imagination and Wish, we cannot agree about what we would have to satisfy and content us. Let us leave it to our own Thought to cut out and make up at pleasure: It cannot so much as covet what is proper for it, and satisfy itself. 


Juv. stat. 10. — quid enim ratione timemus  
Aut cupimus? Quid tam dextro pede concipis, ut te  
Conatus non poeniteat, votique peracti?   

For what with Reason does Man wish or fear,  
Or undertake upon a Ground so clear,  
That afterward he may not well repent  
Both the Attempt, and the desired Event.   And therefore it was, 
Socrates' his Prayer.  that Socrates begged nothing of the Gods, but what they knew to be best for him. And the both private and public Prayers of the Lacedæmonians were only simply to obtain good and useful things, referring the Choice and Election of them, to the Discretion of the Supreme Power. 


Ibid.  Conjugium petimus, partumque Vxoris, at illis  
Notum qui pueri, qualisque futura sit Vxor.   

We pray for Wives and Children, they above  
Know only when we have them, what they'll prove.   And Christians, pray to God, that his Will may be done: That they may not fall into the Inconvenience the Poet feigns of King Midas. He prayed to the Gods, that all he touched might be turned into Gold: His Prayer was heard, his Wine was Gold, his Bread was Gold, and the Feathers of his Bed, his Shirt, and Clothes were turned into Gold; so that he found himself ruined and overwhelmed with the Fruition of his Desire, and being enriched with an inollerable Wealth, was fain to unpray his Prayers: 

Attonitus novitate mali divesque miserque, 
Ovid Metam. lib. 11.   
Effugere optat opes, & quae modo voverat odit.   

Astonished at the strangeness of the ill,  
To be so rich, yet miserable still;  
He wishes now he could his wealth evade,  
And hates the thing for which before he prayed.    
To instance in myself; Being young, I desired of Fortune above all things the Order of St. Michael; 
The Order of St. Michael of high esteem in France.  which was then the utmost distinction of Honour amongst the French Nobless, and very rare. She pleasantly gratified my longing. Instead of raising me, and lifting me up from my own place to attain to it, she was much kinder to me, for she brought it so low, and made it so cheap, that It stooped down to my Shoulders, and lower. Cleobis and Biton, Trophonius and Agamedes, having requested the first of their Goddess, the last of their God; a Recompense worthy of their Piety, had Death for a Reward: so differing are the heavenly Opinions concerning what is fit for us, from ours. God might grant us Riches, Honours, Life and Health sometimes to our own hurt: for every thing that is pleasing to us, is not always good for us, if he sends us Death, or an increase of Sickness instead of a Cure. Virga tua, 
Psal. 23.  & baculus tuus ipsa me consolata sunt: Thy Rod, and thy Staff have comforted me: He does it by the Rule of his Providence, which better and more certainly discerns what is proper for us, than we can do; and we ought to take it in good part, as coming from a wise, and most amicable Hand.  


Juven. Sat. 10.  Si consilium vis,  
Permits ipsis expendera numinibus, quid  
Conveniat nobis, rebusque sit utile nostris;  
Charior est illis homo, quam sibi.   

If thou'lt be ruled, leave to the Gods in Prayers  
To weigh what's fit for us, and our Affairs,  
For Man to them, by infinite degrees,  
Than he is to himself, far dearer is.   
For to require Honours and Commands, is to require that he may throw you into a Battle, set you upon a cast at a Dice, or something of the like nature, whereof the issue is to you unknown, and the Fruit doubtful. There is no so sharp and violent Dispute amongst the Philosophers, as about the Question of the sovereign good of Man: From whence, by the calculation of Varro▪ two hundred and fourscore Sects. Qui autem de summo bono dissentit, 
Cicero de finibus. lib. 5.  de tota Philosophiae ratione disputat. For, whoever enters into Controversy concerning the supreme good, disputes upon the whole reason of Philosophy. 


Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 2.  Tres mihi convivae prope dissentire videntur,  
Poscentes vario multum diversa palato,  
Quid dem? Quid non dem? renuis tu quod jubet alter:  
Quod petis, id sanè est invisum, acidumque duobus.   

T'invite three Guests of differing Palate home  
To a Man's Table, sure is troublesome;  
What one likes, thou dislik'st: What shall I do?  
And what thou lik'st, dislikes the other two.   Nature should say the same to their Contests and Debates. Some say that our well being lies in Virtue, others in Pleasure, others in our submitting to Nature: one in Knowledge, another in being exempt from Pain, another in not suffering ourselves to be carried away by Apparences: and this Fancy seems to have some relation to that of the Ancient Pythagoras. 

Nil admirari propè res est una Numaci, 
Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 6.   
Solaque quae possit facere, & servare beatum.   

Nothing t'admires the only thing I know  
Can make us happy, and can keep us so.   Which is the drift of the Pyrrhonian Sect. Aristotle attributes the admiring of nothing to Magnanimity. And Archesilaus' said, that Constancy, and a right and inflexible state of Judgement, were the true Goods: but that consent, and application the Evils; and there it is true, in being thus positive, and establishing it by a certain Axiom, he quitted Pyrrhonism. For the Pyrrhonians, when they say that the Ataraxy, which is the immobility of Judgement, is the sovereign Good; do not design to speak it affirmatively; but that the same motion of Soul which makes them avoid Precipices, and take shelter from the old, presents them such a Fancy, and makes them refuse another. How much do I wish, that whilst I live, either some other, or Justus Lipsius, 
Character of Justus Lipsius.  the most learned Man now living, of a most polite and judicious Understanding, and truly resembling my Turnebus; had both the Will, and Health, and Leisure sufficient, sincerely to collect into a Register, according to their Divisions and Classes, as many as are to be found of the Opinions of the ancient Philosophers, about the subject of our Being and Manners, their Controversies, the Succession and Reputation of Sects; with the Application of the Lives of the Authors and their Disciples to their own Precepts in memorable Accidents, and upon exemplary Occasions. What a beautiful and useful Work that would be! As to what remains, if it be from ourselves that we are to extract the Rules of our Manners, upon what a Confusion do we throw ourselves? For that which our Reason advises us to, as the most probable, is generally for every one to obey the Laws of his Country, as it was that of Socrates, inspired, as he pretends himself, by a Divine Council. And by that what would it say, if not that our Duty has no other Rule but what is accidental? Truth ought to have alike and universal Visage: If man could know Equity and Justice, that it had a Body and a true Being, he would not fetter it to the Conditions of this Country or that; it would not be from the whimsies of the Persians or Indians that Virtue would receive its Form. There is nothing more subject to perpetual Agitation than the Laws. Since the time that I was born, I have known those of the English, our Neighbours, three or four times changed, not only in matters of Civil Regiment, which is the only thing wherein Constancy is dispensed with, but in the most important Subject that can be, namely Religion. At which I am the more troubled, and of which I am the more ashamed, because it is a Nation, with whom those of my Province have formerly had so great Familiarity and Acquaintance; that there yet remains in my House some footsteps of our ancient Kindred. And here with us at home, I have known a thing that was Capital, to become Lawful; and we that hold others are likewise according to the chance of War, in a possibility of being found one day guilty of High-Treason, both Divine and Humane; should the Justice of our Arms fall into the Power of Injustice: and after a few years' Possession, taking a quite contrary Being. 
Apollo.  How could that ancient God more clearly accuse the ignorance of humane Knowledge concerning the Divine Being, and give men to understand, that their Religion was but a thing of their own Contrivance, useful as a bound to their Society, than in declaring as he did to those who came to his Tripod for Instruction: that every one's true Worship was that which he found in Use in the place where he chanced to be? O God, what infinite Obligation have we to the bounty of our Sovereign Creator, for having disabused our Belief from wand'ring and arbitrary Devotions, and for having seated it upon the eternal foundation of the Holy Word? But what will then Philosophy say to us in this necessity? Why, that we follow the Laws of our Country, that is to say, this floating Sea of the Opinions of a Republic, or a Prince, that will paint out Justice for me in as many colours, and reform it as many ways as there are changes of Passions in themselves. I cannot suffer my Judgement to be so flexible. What a kind of bounty is that which I shall see one day in repute, and that too morrow shall be in none, and that the crossing of a River shall be made a Crime? What Truth is it that these Mountains impale, and keep it from the World beyond them? But they are pleasant, when to give some certainty to the Laws, 
Natural Laws.  they say, that there are some firm, perpetual, and immovable, which they call Natural, that are imprinted in humane kind by the condition of their own proper Being, and those some reckon three, some four, some more, and some less, a sign that it is a mark as doubtful as the rest. Now they are so unfortunate (for what can I call it else but misfortune) that of so infinite a number of Laws, there should not be found one at least, that Fortune, and the temerity of Chance, has suffered to be universally received by the consent of all Nations? They are, I say, so miserable, that of these three or four select Laws, there is not so much as one that is not contradicted and disowned, not only by one Nation but by many. Now the only likely sign by which they can argue or infer some Laws to be Natural, is, the universality of Approbation; for we should without doubt follow that which Nature had truly ordained us; and not only every Nation, but every particular man would resent the Force and Violence that any one should do him, who would tempt him to any thing contrary to this Law. Let them produce me but one of this Condition: Protagoras and Aristo, gave no other Essence to the Justice of Laws, than the Authority and Opinion of the Legislator, and, that these laid aside, the honest and the good would lose their Qualities, and remain empty Names of indifferent things. Thrasymachus in Plato is of Opinion, that there is no other Right but the Convenience of the Superior. There is not any thing wherein the World is so various, as in Laws and Customs; such a thing is abominable here, which is elsewhere in Esteem, as in Lacedemonia, the dexterity of stealing. Marriages within the forbidden Degrees are capitally interdicted amongst us, they are elsewhere in Honour.  

Gentes esse feruntur, 
Ovid. Met. lib. 10.   
In quibus & nato genitrix, & nata Parenti,  
Jungitur, & pietas geminato crescit amore.   

There are some Nations in the World, 'tis said,  
Where Fathers Daughters, Sons their Mothers wed,  
And their affections still do higher rise  
More firm and constant by these double ties.   
The murder of Infants, murder of Fathers, communication of Wives, traffic of Robberies, licence in all sorts of Voluptuousness: Finally, there is nothing so extreme, that is not allowed by the Custom, and the common Usance of some Nation or other. It is credible, that there are natural Laws, but they are lost in us; this fine humane Reason every where so insinuating itself to govern and command, as to shuffle and confound the face of things, according to it's own vanity and inconstancy. Nihil itaque amplius nostrum est; quod nostrum dico, artis est. Therefore nothing is any more truly ours: what we call ours belongs to Art. Subjects have divers lustres, and divers considerations; and from thence the diversity of Opinions principally proceed. One Nation considers a Subject in one aspect, and stops there, another takes it from another prospect. There is nothing of greater horror to be imagined, than for a man to eat his Father; and yet the People, whose ancient Custom it was so to do, looked upon it as a testimony of Piety and natural Affection, seeking thereby to give their Progenitors the most worthy and honourable Sepulture; storing up in themselves, and as it were in their own Marrow, 
The bodies of their deceased Fathers eaten by some People, and why.  the Bodies and Relics of their Fathers; and in some sort regenerating them by Transmutation into their Living flesh, by means of nourishment and digestion. It is easy to consider what a Cruelty and Abomination it must have appeared to be to men possessed, and imbute with this superstition, to throw their Fathers remains to the corruption of the Earth, and the nourishment of Beasts and Worms. Lycurgus' considered in Theft, 
Theft allowed by Lycurgus, and why.  the vivacity, diligence, boldness, and dexterity, of purloining any thing from our Neighbours, and the Utility that redounded to the Public, that every one might look more narrowly to the conservation of what was his own, and believed, that from his double Institution of Assaulting and Defending, advantage was to be made for Military Discipline (which was the principal Science and Virtue, to which he would inure that Nation) of greater consideration than the disorder and injustice of taking another man's Goods. Dionysius the Tyrant, offered Plato a Robe of the Persian fashion, long, 
A perfumed Robe refused by Plato, and accepted by Aristippus.  damasked, and perfumed, Plato refused it, saying, That being born a man, he would not willingly dress himself in Woman's clothes; but Aristippus accepted it, with this Answer, That no Accoustrement could corrupt a chaste Courage. His Friends reproaching him with meanness of Spirit, for laying it no more to heart, that Dionysius had spit in his Face; Fishermen, said he, suffer themselves to be dashed with the waves of the Sea from head to foot to catch a Gudgeon. Diogenes was washing Cabidges, and seeing him pass by; If thou couldst live on Cabbage, said he, thou wouldst not fawn upon a Tyrant. To whom Aristippus replied; And if thou knewest how to live amongst men, thou wouldst not be washing Cabidges. Thus Reason finds appearance for divers effects. 'Tis a Pot with two Ears, that a man may take by the right or left.  


Aeneid. lib. 3.  bellum o terra hospiti portas,  
Bello armantur equi, bellum haec armenta minantur:  
Sed tamen iidem olim curru succedere sueti  
Quadrupedes, & fraena jugo concordia far,  
Spes est pacis.   

O Earth, it is thy Womb, that War does bear,  
Horses are armed for; Herds does threaten War:  
And yet these Brutes having with patience bore  
The yoke, and yielded to the Reins before  
There's hopes of Peace.   

Solon's Tears for the death of his Son.  Solon, being importuned by his Friends not to shed powerless and unprofitable Tears for the death of his Son: It is for that reason, that I the more justly shed them, said he, because they are powerless and unprofitable. 
The mourning of Socrates his Wife.  Socrates' his Wife, exasperated her grief by this Circumstance, Oh, how unjustly do these wicked Judges put him to Death! Why, replied he, hadst thou rather they should justly execute me? We have our Ears bored; the Greeks looked upon that as a mark of slavery. We retire in private to enjoy our Wives, the Indians do it in public: The Scythians immolated Strangers in their Temples, elsewhere Temples were a Refuge.  


Juven. Sat. 15.  Ind furor vulgi, quod numina vicinorum  
Odit quisque locus, cum solos credat habendos  
Esse Deos; quos ipse colit.   

This 'tis the popular Fury that creates,  
That all their Neighbours Gods each Nation hates.  
And that the more, because conceive they do  
None but their own should be reputed so.   
I have heard of a Judge, that where he met with a sharp conflict betwixt Bartolus and Baldus, and some point controverted with many Contrarieties, writ in the Margin of his Book; A question for a Friend, that is to say, that Truth was there so controverted and disputed, that in a like Cause he might favour which of the Parties he thought fit: 'Twas only for want of wit, that he did not write, A question for a Friend, throughout. The Advocates and Judges of our times, find Bias enough in all Causes to accommodate them to what they themselves think fit: In so infinite a Science, depending upon the authority of so many Opinions, and so arbitrary a Subject, it cannot be, but that of necessity, an extreme confusion of Judgements must arise. There is also hardly any Suit so clear, wherein Opinions do not very much differ; what one Court has determined, another determines quite contrary, and itself contrary to that at another time. Of which we see very frequent Examples, which is a marvellous blemish to the Ceremonious Authority and lustre of our Justice, not to stick to positive Sentences, but to run from Judge to Judge, and Court to Court, to decide one and the same Cause. As to the liberty of Philosophical Opinions concerning Vice and Virtue, 'tis not necessary to be insisted upon; and wherein are found many Opinions that are better concealed than published to weak Spirits: Archesilaus' said, that in Fornication it was no matter where, or with whom it was committed. Et obscoenas voluptates, 
Cicero, Thus. lib. 5.  si natura requirit, non genere, aut loco, aut ordine, sed forma, aetate, figura metiendas Epicurus putat, ne amores quidem sanctos à sapiente alienos esse arbitrantur. Quaeramus ad quum usque aetatem juvenes amandi sint. And obscene Pleasures, if nature requires, Epicurus thinks are not to be measured, either by kind, place, or order, but by Age and Beauty. Neither are Holy Loves thought to be stranger to wise Men; we are to inquire till what age young men are to be loved. These two last Stoical Quotations, and the reproach that Diogarchus threw in the teeth of Plato himself upon this Account, show how much the soundest Philosophy indulges Licences and Excess, very remote from the common Usance. Laws derive their Authority from Possession and Usance: 'Tis dangerous to trace them backward to their beginning; they grow great, and ennoble themselves like our Rivers by running, 
Law's authorised by Customs.  but follow them upward to their Source, 'tis but a little Spring, scarce discernible, that swells thus, and thus fortifies itself by growing old. Do but consult the ancient Considerations that gave the first motion to this famous Torrent so full of Dignity and Reverence; you will find them so light and weak, that it is no wonder if these People, who weigh and reduce every thing to Reason, and who admit nothing by Authority, or upon Trust; have their Judgements very remote and differing from those of the Public. It is no wonder if People, who take their pattern from the first Image of Nature, should in most of their Opinions swerve from the common path: As for Example, few amongst them would have approved of the strict Conditions of our Marriages, and most of them have been for having Wives in Common, and without Obligation: They would refuse our Ceremonies. Chrysippus said, that a certain Philosopher would have made a dozen Somersaults, and turned up his Tail without his Breeches, for a dozen of Olives. That Philosopher would hardly have advised Calisthenes to have refused Hippoclides the fair Agarista his Daughter, for having seen him stand on his Head upon a Table. Metrocles let a Fart a little indiscreetly in Disputation, in the presence of a great Auditory in his School, and kept himself hid in his own House for shame, till Crates coming to visit him, and adding to his Consolations and Reasons, the Example of his own Liberty, falling to Fart with him who should let most, cured him of that scruple, and withal drew him to his own Stoical Sect, more free than that more reserved one of the Peripatetics, of which he had been till then. That which we call Decency, not to dare to do that in public which it is decent enough to do in private, the Stoics call foppery, and to mince it, and be so modest as to conceal and disown what Nature, Custom, and our desires publish and proclaim of our Actions, they reputed a Vice. The other thought it was to undervalue the mysteries of Venus, to draw them out of her private Oratory, to expose them to the view of the People: And that to bring them out from behind the Curtain, was to lose them. Modesty is a thing of weight; Secrecy, Reservation, and Circumscription are Parts of Esteem. Pleasure did very ingeniously, when under the visor of Virtue, she sued not to be prostituted in the open Streets, trodden under foot, and exposed to the public View, wanting the dignity and convenience of her private Cabinets. Hence some say, that to put down public Stews, is not only to disperse Fornication into all Places that was a sign for one, but moreover, by the difficulty, to incite wild and wanton People to this Vice. 
Moechus es Aufidiae qui vir Corvine fuisti,  

Mart. lib. 3. Epig. 68  Rivalis fuerat qui tuus ille vir est.  
Cur altena placet tibi, quae tua non placet Vxor?  
Nunquid securus non potes arrigere?  This Experience diversifies itself in a thousand Examples.  
Nullus in Vrbe fuit tota, qui tangere vellet  
Vxorem gratis Caeciliane tuam,  

Mart. lib. 1. Epig. 74.  Dum licuit: sed nunc positis custodibus, ingens  
Turba fututorum est. Ingeniosus homo es.  
A Philosopher being taken in the very act, and asked what he was doing, coldly replied, I am planting a Man; no more blushing to be so caught, than if they had found him planting Garlic. It is, I suppose, out of tenderness and respect to the natural Modesty of Mankind, that a great and religious Author is of Opinion, that this act is so necessarily bound to Privacy and Shame, that he cannot persuade himself there could be any absolute performance in those impudent embraces of the Cynics, 
The Embraces of the Cynics impudent, and in open Sight.  but that they only made it their Business to represent the lascivious Gestures of Lust; to maintain the impudence of their Schools Profession, and that to eject what Shame had withheld, it was afterward necessary for them to withdraw into the Shade. But he had not thoroughly examined their Debauches, for Diogenes, playing the beast with himself in public, wished in the presence of all that saw him, that he could fill his Belly by that Exercise. To those who asked him why he did not find out a more commodious place to eat in, than the open Street; he made answer, because I am hungry in the open Street. The Women Philosophers, who mixed with their Sect, mixed also with their Persons in all Places without Reservation: and Hipparchia was not received into Crates his Society, but upon Condition, that she should in all things follow the Usances and Customs of his Rule. These Philosophers set a great price upon Virtue, and renounce all other Discipline but the Moral: and yet in all their Actions, they attributed the Sovereign Authority to the Election of their Sage, and above the Laws, and gave no other curb to Voluptuousness, but Moderation only, and the Conservation of the Liberty of others. Heraclitus and Protagoras, forasmuch as Wine seemed bitter to the Sick, and pleasant to the sound, the Rudder crooked in the Water, and straight when out, and such like contrary apparences as are found in Subjects, argued from thence, that all Subjects had in themselves the Causes of these Apparences; and that there was some bitterness in the Wine, which had some sympathy with the sick man's Taste, and the Rudder some bending Quality, sympathising with him that looks upon it in the Water. And so of all the rest, which is to say, that all is in all things, and consequently nothing in any one, for where all is there is nothing. This Opinion put me in mind of the Experience we have, that there is no sense nor aspect of any thing whether bitter or sweet, straight or crooked, that humane Wit does not find out in the Writings he undertakes to tumble over. Into the cleanest, purest, and most perfect Speaking that can possibly be, 
The purest way of Speaking, capable of various Interpretations.  how many Lies and Falsities have we suggested? What Heresy has not there found Ground and Testimony sufficient to make itself embraced and defended? 'Tis for this, that the Authors of such Errors will never depart from proof of the Testimony of the interpretation of Words. A Person of Dignity, who would prove to me by Authority, the search of the Philosopher's Stone, 
The Philosopher's Stone approved.  wherein he was over head and ears engaged; alleged to me at last five or six Passages in the Bible, upon which he said he first founded his attempt, for the discharge of his Conscience; (for he is a Divine) and in truth the Invention was not only pleasant, but moreover very well accommodated to the Defence of this fine Science. By this way the Reputation of divining Fables is acquired. There is no Fortune-teller, if he have this Authority, but, if a Man will take the Pains to tumble and toss, and narrowly to peep into all the folds and glosses of his Words, he may make him, like the Sibyls, say what he will. There are so many ways of Interpretation, that it will be hard but that, either obliquely, or in a direct Line, an ingenious Wit will find out in every Subject, some Air that will serve for his Purpose. Therefore there is a cloudy and ambiguous Style in this so frequent and ancient use; let the Author but make himself Master of that, he may attract and busy Posterity about his Predictions; which not only his own Parts, but the accidental Favour of the Matter itself, may as much or more assist him to obtain. That, as to the rest, he express himself after a foolish, or a subtle manner, whether obscurely, or contradictorily, 'tis no matter; a number of Wits shaking and sifting him, will bring out a great many several Forms, either according to his meaning, or collateral, or contrary to it, which will all redound to his Honour. He will see himself enriched by the means of his Disciples, like the Regent's of Colleges, by their Pupils yearly Presents. This is it which has given Reputation to many things of no worth at all; that has brought several Writings in Vogue, and given them the Fame of containing all sorts of Matter can be desired; one and the same thing receiving a thousand and a thousand Images and various Considerations, nay, even as many as we please. Is it possible that Homer could design to say all that we make him: and that he designed so many, and so various Figures, as that the Divines, Lawgivers, Captains, Philosophers, and all sorts of Men who treat of Sciences, 
Homer the general Leader of all sorts of People.  how variously and oppositely soever, should indifferently quote him, and support their Arguments by his Authority, as the Sovereign Lord and Master of all Offices, Works and Artisans, and Councillor General of all Erterprises? Whoever has had occasion for Oracles and Predictions, has there found sufficient to serve his turn. 'Tis a Wonder how many, and how admirable Concurrences an intelligent Person, and a particular Friend of mine, has there found out in Favour of our Religion; and cannot easily be put out of the Conceit that it was Homer's Design: and yet he is as well acquainted with this Author, as any Man whatever of his Time. And what he has found out in Favour of ours, very many anciently have found in Favour of theirs. Do but observe how Plato is tumbled and tossed, every one ennobling his own Opinions by applying him to himself, make him take what side they please. They draw him in, and engage him in all the new Opinions the World receives; and make him, according to the different course of things, differ from himself: every one makes him according to his own Sense, the Manners and Customs lawful in his Age, because they are unlawful in ours; and all this with Vivacity and Power, according to the force and spriteliness of the Wit of the Interpreter. From the same Foundation that Heraclitus and this Sentence of his had, That all things had in them those forms that we discerned, Democritus drew a quite contrary conclusion; namely, That Subjects had nothing at all in them of what we there find: and that forasmuch as Honey is sweet to one, and bitter to another, he thence argued, that it was neither sweet nor bitter. The Pyrrhonians would say, that they knew not whether it is sweet or bitter, or neither the one or the other, or both; for those always gain the highest point of Dubitation. The Cyrenaicks held, that nothing was perceptible from without, and that that only was perceptible, that internally touched us, as Grief and Pleasure; acknowledging neither Sound, nor Colour, but certain Affections only that we receive from them, and that man's Judgement had no other Seat. Protagoras believed, that what seemed to every one was true to every one. The Epicureans lodged all Judgement in the Senses, and in the Knowledge of things, and in Pleasure. Plato would have the Judgement of Truth, and Truth itself derived from Opinions, and the Senses to appertain to the Wit and Cogitation. This Discourse put me upon the Consideration of the Senses, in which lies the greatest Foundation and Proof of our Ignorance. Whatsoever is known, is doubtless known by the Faculty of the knower; for seeing the Judgement proceeds from the Operation of him that judges, 'tis Reason that this Operation performs it by his means, and will not by the constraint of another; as it would happen, if we knew things by the Power, and according to the Law of their Essence. Now all Knowledge is conveyed to us by the Senses, they are our Masters: 

— via qua munita fidei  

Lucret. l. 5.  Proxima fert humanum in pectus, templaque mentis.   

It is the surest Path that Faith can find  
By which to enter humane Heart, and Mind.   Science begins by them, and is resolved into them. After all, we should know no more than a Stone, if we did not know that there is Sound, Odour, Light, Taste, Measure, Weight, Softness, Hardness, Sharpness, Colour, Smoothness, Breadth and Depth. These are the Platform and Principles of all the Structure of all our Knowledge. And, according to some Science, is nothing else but Sense. He that could make me contradict the Senses, would have me by the Throat, he could not make me go further back. The Senses are the beginning and the end of humane Knowledge.  


Ibid. l. 4.  Invenies primus ab sensibus esse creatam  
Notitiam veri, neque sensus posse refelli.  
Quid majore fide porro quam sensus haberi  
Debet?   

You'll find of Truth, that all discoveries made,  
Are first by Senses to the Soul conveyed;  
Neither will Sense be baffled, and on what  
Can we rely more safely than on that?   
Let us attribute to them the least we can, we must however of necessity grant them this, that it is by their means and mediation that all our Instruction is directed. Cicero says, that Chrysippus, having attempted to extenuate the force and virtue of Senses, presented to himself Arguments, and so vehement Oppositions to the contrary, that he could not be satisfied in himself therein: Whereupon Carneades, who maintained the contrary side, boasted, that he would make use of the same Words and Arguments that Chrysippus had done, with them to controvert and confute him, and therefore thus cried out against him: O Miserable! thy force has destroyed thee. There can be nothing absurd to a greater Degree, than to maintain that Fire does not warm, that Light does not shine, and, that there is no weight nor solidity in Iron, which are Advertisements conveyed to us by the Senses; neither is there Belief nor Knowledge in Man, that can be compared to that for certainty. The first Consideration I have upon the Subject of the Senses is, 
Doubt whether man have all his Senses.  that I make a doubt whether or no Man be furnished with all natural Senses. I see several Animals who live an entire and perfect Life, some without Sight, others without Hearing: Who knows whether to us also, one, two, or three, or many other Senses may not be wanting? For if any one be wanting, our Examination cannot discover the defect. 'Tis the privilege of the Senses to be the utmost limit of our discovery: There is nothing beyond them that can assist us in Exploration, not so much as one Sense in the discovery of another. 


Ibid.  An poterunt oculos aures reprehendere, an aures  
Tactus, an hunc porro tactum sapor arguet oris,  
An confutabunt nares, oculive revincent?   

Can Ears the Eyes, the Touch the Ears correct;  
Or is that Touch by Tasting to be checked:  
Or th' other Senses shall the Nose, or Eyes  
Confute in their peculiar faculties?   They all make the extremest limits of our ability.  

— seorsum cuique potestas  

Ibid.  Divisa est, sua vis cuique est.   

Each has its power distinctly, and alone  
And every Sense's power is it's own.   
It is impossible to make a man, naturally blind, conceive that he does not see, impossible to make him desire Sight, or to be sensible of his defect. For which Reason, we ought not to derive any assurance from the Soul's being contented and satisfied with those we have: considering that it cannot be sensible herein of its Infirmity and Imperfection, if there be any such thing. It is impossible to say any thing to this blind Man, either by Argument or Similitude, that can possess his Imagination with any Apprehension of Light, Colour, or Sight. There nothing remains behind that can push on the Senses to Evidence. Those that are born Blind, whom we hear to wish they could see, it is not that they understand what they desire: They have learned from us that they want something, that there is something to be desired that we have, which they can name indeed, and speak of its Effects and Consequence, but yet they know not what it is, nor apprehend it not at all. I have seen a Gentleman of a good Family, who was born Blind, or at least Blind from such an Age that he knows not what Sight is; who is so little sensible of his defect, that he makes use as we do of Words proper for Seeing, and applies them after a manner wholly particular, and his own. They brought him a Child to which he was Godfather, which having taken into his Arms: Good God (said he) what a fine Child is this, how beautiful to look upon, what a pretty Face it has! He will say, like one of us, this Room has a very fine Prospect, it is clear Wether, the Sun shines bright. And moreover, being that Hunting, Tennis, and Butts, are our Exercises, and that he has heard so, he has taken a liking to them, will Ride a Hunting; and believes he has as good a share of the Sport as we have; and will express himself as angry or pleased as the best of us all, and yet knows nothing of it, but by the Ear. One cries out to him, here's a Hare, when he is upon some even Plain where he may safely Ride; and afterwards, when they tell him the Hare is killed, he will be as overjoyed, and proud of it, as he hears others say they are. He will take a Tennis Ball in his left hand, and strike it away with the Racket: He will shoot with a Musket at random, and is contented with what his People tell him, that he is over or wide. Who knows whether all humane kind commit not the like absurdity, for want of some Sense, and that through this Default, the greatest part of the face of things is concealed from us? What do we know but that the difficulties which we find in several effects of Animals which exceed our Capacity, are not produced by faculty of some sense that we are defective in? And whether some of them have not by this means a Life more full and entire than ours? We seize an Apple as it were with all our Senses: We there find Redness, Smoothness, Odour, and Sweetness: But it may have other Virtues besides these, as to heat, or bind, which no sense of ours can have any reference unto. Is it not likely that there are sensitive faculties in Nature that are fit to judge of, and to discern those which we call the occult Proprieties in several things, as for the Loadstone to attract Iron; and that the want of such faculties is the cause that we are ignorant of the true Essence of such things? 'Tis peradventure some particular Sense that gives Cocks to understand what hour it is of Midnight, and when it grows to be towards Day, and that makes them to Crow accordingly; that teaches Chickens, before they have any Experience of what they are, to fear a Sparhawk, and not a Goose, or a Peacock, though Birds of a much larger Size: That cautions them of the hostil Quality the Cat has against them, and makes them not to fear a Dog: To arm themselves against the meawing (a kind of flattering Voice) of the one, and not against the barking, a shrill, and threatening Voice of the other. That teaches Wasps, Ants, and Rats, to fall upon the best Pear, and the best Cheese, before they have tasted them, and inspires the Stag, Elephant, and Serpents, with the knowledge of a certain Herb proper for their Cure. There is no Sense that has not a mighty Dominion, and that does not by its power introduce an infinite number of Knowledges. If we were defective in the intelligence of sounds of Music, and of the Voice, it would cause an inimaginable confusion in all the rest of our Science. For, besides what appertains to the proper effect of every Sense, how many Arguments, Consequences, and Conclusions do we draw to other things, by comparing one Sense with another? Let an Understanding Man imagine humane Nature originally produced without the Sense of Seeing, and consider what Ignorance and Trouble such a Defect would bring upon him, what a Darkness, and Blindness in the Soul; he will then see by that of how great Importance to the knowledge of Truth, the privation of such another Sense, or of two, or three, should we be so deprived, would be. We have formed a Truth by the Consultation and Concurrence of our five Senses, but peradventure, we should have the consent and contribution of eight or ten, to make a certain discovery of our own Being. The Sects that controvert the Knowledge of man, do it principally by the incertainty and weakness of our Senses. For since all Knowledge is by their means and mediation conveyed unto us, if they fail in their report, if they corrupt, or alter what they bring us from without, if the Light which by them creeps into the Soul be obscured in the passage, we have nothing else to hold by. From this extreme difficulty all these fancies proceed, that every subject has all we there find in itself: That it has nothing in it of what we think we there find; and that of the Epicureans, that the Sun is no bigger than 'tis judged by our sight to be: 


Lucret. lib. 5.  Quicquid id est nihilo fertur majore figura,  
quam nostris oculis quam cernimus esse videtur.   

But be it what it will in our esteems,  
It is no bigger than to us it seems.   That the apparences, which represent a Body great to him that is near, and less to him that is more remote, are both true: 

Nec tamen hic oculis falli concedimus hilum;  

Id. lib. 4.  Proinde animi vitium hoc oculis adsingere noli.   

Yet that the Eye's deluded we deny;  
Charge not the Soul's fault therefore on the eye.   and resolutely, that there is no deceit in the Senses; that we are to lie at their Mercy, and seek elsewhere Reasons to salve and excuse the Difference and Contradictions we there find; even to the inventing of Lies and other slams, (if it come to that) rather than accuse the Senses. Timagoras vowed, that by pressing or turning his Eye, he could never perceive the light of the Candle to double, and that the seeming so, proceeded from the Vice of Opinion, and not from the Instrument. The most absurd of all the Epicureans Absurdities, is, in denying the force and effect of the Senses.  

Proinde quod in quoque est his visum tempore, verum est. 
Ibid.   
Et si non potuit ratio dissolvere causam,  
Cur ea quae fuerint juxtim quadrata, procul sint  
Visa rotunda: tamen praestat rationis egentem  
Reddere mendose causas utriusque figurae,  
Quam manibus manifesta suis emittere quoquam,  
Et violare fidem primam, & convellere tota  
Fundamenta, quibus nixatur vita salusque.  
Non modo enim ratio ruat omnis, vita quoque ipsa.  
Concidat extemplo, nisi credere sensibus ausis,  
Praecipitesque locos vitare, & caetera quae sint  
In genere hoc fugienda.   

Whatever, and whenever seen, is true,  
And if our Reason can't the Knot undo,  
Why things seem to be square when very near,  
And at a greater distance round appear;  
'Tis better yet for him that's at a pause  
To give of either Figure a false cause,  
Than to permit things manifest to go  
Out of his Hands, to give the lie unto  
His first belief, and the Foundations rend  
On which all Life and Safety do depend.  
For not alone Reason, but Life and all  
Together will with sudden Ruin fall;  
Unless we dare our Senses trust to miss  
The danger of a dreadful precipice,  
And other such like Dangers, that with Care  
And Wariness to be evaded are.   
This so desperate and unphilosophical Advice, expresses only this, that humane Knowledge cannot support itself but by Reason, that is unreasonable, foolish and mad; but that it is yet better, that man, to set a greater value upon himself, make use of any other Remedy, how fantastic soever, than to confess his necessary Ignorance; a truth so disadvantageous to him. He cannot avoid owning, that the Senses are the sovereign Lords of his Knowledge; but they are uncertain, and falsifiable in all Circumstances. 'Tis there that he is to fight it out to the last; and if his just Forces fail him, as they do, to supply that Defect with Obstinacy, Temerity and Impudence. In case that what the Epicureans say be true, viz. That we have no Knowledge if the Senses apparences be false; and if that also be true, which the Stoics say, That the apparences of the Senses are so false, that they can furnish us with no manner of Knowledge: We shall conclude, to the Disadvantage of these two great Dogmatical Sects, that there is no Science at all. As to what concerns the Error and uncertainty of the Operation of the Senses, every one may furnish himself with as many examples as he pleases; so ordinary are the Faults and Tricks they put upon us. In the Echo of a Valley, the sound of the Trumpet seems to meet us, which comes from a place behind.  

Extantesque procul medio de gurgite montes 
Ibid.   
Idem apparent longè diversi licet.  
Et fugere ad puppim colles, campique videntur  
Quos agimus propter Navim.   

And Rocks i'th' Seas that proudly raise their Head, 
Mr. Creech.   
Tho far disjoined, though Royal Navies spread  
Their Sails between; yet if from distance shown,  
They seem an Island all combined in one.  
Thus Ships, though driven by a prosperous Gale,  
Seem fixed to Saylors, those seem under Sail  
That ride at Anchor safe; and all admire,  
As they row by, to see the Rocks retire.   

— Vbi in medio nobis equus acer obhaesit 
Ibid.   
Flumine, equi corpus transversum ferre videtur  
Vis, & in adversum Flumen contrudere raptim.   

Thus, when in rapid Streams my Horse hath stood,  
And I looked downward on the rolling Flood; 
Mr. Creech.   
Though he stood still, I thought he did divide  
The headlong Streams, & strive against the Tide,  
And all things seemed to move on every side.   
Like a Musket Bullet, under the Forefinger, the middle Finger being lapped over it, which feels so like two, that a Man will have much ado to persuade himself there is but one; the end of the two Fingers feeling each of them one at the same time. For that the Senses are very often Masters of our Reason, and constrain it to receive Impressions which it judges and knows to be false, is frequently seen. I set aside the Sense of feeling, that has its Functions nearer, more lively and substantial; that so often by the effect of the Pains it helps the Body to, subverts and overthrows all those fine Stoical Resolutions, and compels him to cry out of his Belly, who has resolutely established this Doctrine in his Soul, that the Colic, and all other Pains and Diseases are indifferent things; not having the Power to abate any thing of the Sovereign Felicity, wherein the wise man is seated by his Virtue. There is no Heart so effeminate, that the rattle and sound of our Drums and Trumpets will not inflame with Courage; nor so sullen, that the Harmony of our Music will not rouse and cheer; nor so stubborn Soul, that will not feel itself struck with some Reverence, in considering the gloomy vastness of our Churches, the variety of Ornaments, and Order of our Ceremonies, and to hear the solemn Music of our Organs, and the Grace and devout Harmony of our Voices. Even those that come in with Contempt, feel a certain shivering in their Hearts, and something of dread that makes them begin to doubt their Opinions. For my part, I do not think myself strong enough to hear an Ode of Horace or Catullus Sung by a beautiful young Mouth without emotion. And Zeno had reason to say, 
The Voice, the flower of Beauty.  That the Voice was the flower of Beauty. One would once make me believe, that a certain Person, whom all we Frenchmen know, had imposed upon me, in repeating some Verses that he had made; that they were not the same upon the Paper that they were in the Air, and that my Eyes would make a contrary Judgement to my Ears: So great a Power has Pronunciation to give fashion and value to Works that are left to the Efficacy and Modulation of the Voice. And therefore Philoxenus was not so much too blame, hearing one give an ill Accent to some Composition of his, for spurning and breaking certain Earthen Vessels of his, saying, I break what is thine, because thou corrupt'st what is mine. To what end did those Men, who have with a positive Resolution destroyed themselves, turn away their Faces that they might not see the blow that was by themselves appointed? and that those, who for their Health desire and command Incisions to be made, and Cauteries to be applied to them, cannot endure the sight of the Preparations, Instruments, and Operations of the Chirurgeon; being that the Sight is not any way to participate in the Pain? Are not these proper Examples to verify the authority the Senses have over the Imagination? 'Tis to much purpose that we know these Tresses were borrowed from a Page, or a Lackey; that this Vermilion came from Spain, and this Cerus from the Ocean Sea: our Sight will nevertheless compel us to confess that Subject more agreeable and more lovely against all Reason. For in this there is nothing of its own. 

Anferimur cultu, gemmis, auroque teguntur  

Ovid. de Remedio Amo. l. 1.  Crimina, pars minima est ipsa puella sui.  
Saepe ubi sit quod ames inter tam multa requiras  
Decipit hac oculos, Aegide dives amor.   

Faults are with Jewels hid, we're gulled by Art,  
The Girl is of herself the smallest part.  
When amongst so many things, we seek for her  
We love, our Eyes often deceived are.   What a strange Power do the Poets attribute to the Senses, that make Narcissus so desperately in Love with his own Shadow? 

Cunctáque miratur, quibus est mirabilis ipse,  

Ovid. Met. lib. 3.  Se cupit imprudens, & qui probat, ipse probatur,  
Dumque petit, petitur: pariterque accendit & ardet.   


Mr. Sandys.  Admireth all; for which to be admired:  
And inconsiderately himself desired.  
The Praises which he gives, his Beauty claimed,  
Who seeks, is sought, th' Enflamer is inflamed.   And Pygmalion's Judgement so troubled by the Impression of the sight of his Ivory Statue, that he loves and adores it as if it were a living Woman.  

Oscula dat, reddique putat, sequiturque tenetque, 
Ovid. Met. lib. 10.   
Et credit tactis digitos insidere membris,  
Et metuit prestos veniat ne livor in artus.   

He kisses, and believes he's kissed again,  
Seizes, and 'twixt his arms his Love doth strain,  
And thinks the polished Ivory thus held,  
Does to his fingers amorous pressure yield,  
And has a tender Fear, lest black and blue  
Should in the Parts with ardour pressed ensue.   
Let a Philosopher be put into a Cage of small thin set Bars of Iron, and hang him on the Top of the high Tower of Nostre Dame of Paris; He will see by manifest Reason, that he cannot possibly fall, and yet he will find (unless he have been used to the Plumber's Trade) that he cannot help, but that the excessive height will fright and astonish him. For we have enough to do to assure ourselves in the Galleries of our Steeples, if they are made with Rail and Baluster, although they are of Stone; and some there are that cannot endure so much as to think of it. Let there be a Beam thrown over betwixt these two Towers, of breadth sufficient to walk upon, there is no Philosophical Wisdom so firm that can give us the courage to walk over it, as we should do upon the Ground. I have often tried this upon our Mountains in these Parts; and yet I am one who am not the most subject to be afraid, that I was not able to endure to look into that infinite Depth without horror and trembling, though I stood above my length from the edge of the Precipice, and could not have fallen down if I would. Where I also observed, that what height soever the Precipice were, provided there were some Tree, or some jutting out of a Rock, a little to support and divide the Sight, it a little eases our Fears, and gives greater Assurance; as if they were things by which in falling we might have some relief: But that direct Precipices we are not able to look upon without being giddy; ut despici sine vertigine simul oculorum animique non possit. Which is a manifest imposture of the Sight. And therefore it was, that the fine Philosopher put out his own Eyes, to free the Soul from being diverted by them, and that he might Philosophise at greater liberty. But by the same Rule, he should have damned up his Ears, that Theophrastus says are the most dangerous Instruments about us, for receiving violent Impressions to alter and disturb us; and finally, should have deprived himself of all his other Senses, that is to say, of his Life and Being; For they have all the power to command our Soul and Reason. Fit etiam saepe specie quadam, saepe vocum gravitate & cantibus, 
Cicero de Divin. lib. 1.  ut pellantur animi vehementius: saepe etiam cura & timore. For it oft falls out that minds are more vehemently struck by some fight, by the quality and sound of the Voice, or by Singing; and oft times also by Grief and Fear. Physicians hold, that there are certain Complexions that are agitated by some Sounds, and Instruments, even to Fury. I have seen some, who could not hear a Bone gnawed under the Table without impatience; and there is scarce any man, who is not disturbed at the sharp and shrill noise that the File makes in grating upon the Iron; as also to hear chewing near them, or to hear any one speak, who has any impediment in the Throat or Nose, will move some People even to anger and hatred. Of what use was that piping prompter of Gracchus, who softened, raised, and moved his Master's Voice, whilst he declaimed at Rome, if the movements and quality of the sound had not the power to move and alter the Judgements of the Auditory? In earnest, there is wonderful reason to keep such a clutter about the firmity of this fine piece, that suffers itself to be turned and twined by the motion and accidents of so light a wind. The same cheat that the Senses put upon our Understanding, they have in turn put upon them. The Soul also sometimes has its revenge, they lie and contend which should most deceive one another. What we see and hear when we are transported with Passion, we neither see nor hear as it is. 

Et solemn geminum, & duplices se ostendere Thebas. 
Aeneid. l.    

The Sun did seem as if two Suns it were,  
And Thebes a double City did appear.   The Object that we love appears to us more beautiful than it really is: 


Lucret. l. 4.  Multimodis igitur pravas, turpesque videmus,  
Esse in deliciis, summoque in honore vigere.   

Hence 'tis that ugly things in fancied dress,  

Mr. Creech.  Seem gay, look fair to Lovers Eyes, and please.   and that we hate more ugly. To a discontented and afflicted Man, the Light of the Day seems dark and overcast. Our Senses are not only depraved, but very often stupefied by the Passions of the Soul. How many things do we see, that we do not take notice of, if the Mind be taken up with other Thoughts?  


Ibid. — in rebus quoque apertis noscere possis.  
Si non advertas Animum proinde esse, quasi omni  
Tempore semotae fuerint, longeque remotae.   


Mr. Creech.  Nay even in plainest things, unless the Mind  
Take heed, unless she sets herself to find,  
The thing no more is seen, no more beloved,  
Than if the most obscure, and most removed.   
It appears that the Soul retires within, and amuses the Powers of the Senses. And so both the inside, and the outside of man is full of Infirmities and Mistakes. They who have compared our Lives to a Dream, 
The Life of a Man compared to a Dream.  were peradventure more in the right than they were aware of; when we dream, the Soul lives, works, and exercises all its Faculties, neither more nor less, than when awake; but more largely and obscurely; Yet not so much neither, that the difference should be as great as betwixt Night and the Meridional Brightness of the Sun, but as betwixt Night and Shade; there she sleeps, here she slumbers; but whether more or less, 'tis still dark and Cymmerian Darkness. We wake sleeping, and sleep waking. I do not see so clearly in my Sleep; but as to my being awake, I never found it clear enough, and free from Clouds. Moreover, Sleep, when it is profound, sometimes rocks even Dreams themselves asleep, but our awaking is never so sprightly, that it does rightly, and as it should, purge and dissipate those Rave and Whimsies, which are waking Dreams, and worse than Dreams. Our Reason and Soul receiving those Fancies and Opinions that come in Dreams, and authorising the Actions of our Dreams, with the like Approbation that they do those of the Day; wherefore do we not doubt, whether our Thought and Action is another sort of Dreaming, and our waking a certain kind of sleep? If the Senses be our first Judges, it is not ours that we are to consult; for in Faculty Beasts have as great, or greater right than we. It is certain that some of them have the Sense of Hearing more quick than Man; others that of Seeing, others that of Feeling, others that of Touch and Taste. Democritus said, that the Gods and Brutes had the sensitive Faculties more perfect than Man. But betwixt the Effects of their Senses and ours, the difference is extreme. Our spital cleanses and dries up our Wounds, it kills the Serpent.  


Ibid.  Tantaque in his rebus distantia, differitasque est,  
Vt quod aliis cibus est, aliis fuat acre venenum.  
Saepe etenim serpens, hominis contacta saliva,  
Dispersit, ac sese mandendo conficit ipsa.   

And in those things the difference is so great,  
That what's ones Poison, is another's Meat;  
For Serpent's often have been seen, 'tis said,  
When touched with humane spital, to go mad,  
And bite themselves to Death.   
What Quality do we attribute to our spital, either in respect to ourselves, or to the Serpent? By which of the two Senses shall we prove the true Essence that we seek for? Pliny says, that there are certain Sea-Hares in the Indies that are Poison to us, and we to them; insomuch that with the least touch we kill them. Which shall be truly Poison, the Man, or the Fish? Which shall we believe, the Fish of the Man, or the Man of the Fish? One Quality of the Air infects a Man, that does the Ox no harm; some other infects the Ox, but hurts not the Man: Which of the two shall in Truth and Nature be the pestilent Quality? To them who have the Jaundice, all things seems yellow and paler than to us: 


Ibid.  Lurida praeterea fiunt quaecunque tuentur Arquati.—   


Mr. Creech. Jaundice.  Besides whatever Jaundice Eyes do view  
Look pale as well as those, and yellow too:  
For lurid parts fly off with nimble Wings,  
And meet the distant coming forms of things;  
And others lurk within the Eyes, and seize,  
And strain with pale the entering Images.    
They who are troubled with the Disease that the Physicians call Hyposphragma, 
Hyposphragma.  which is a suffusion of Blood under the Skin; see all things red and bloody. What do we know but that these Humours which thus alter the Operations of Sight, predominate our Beasts; and are usual with them? For we see some whose Eyes are yellow, like our People who have the Jaundice; and others of a bloody Colour. 'Tis likely that the colour of Objects seems other to them, than to us; which of the two shall make a right Judgement? For, it is not said, that the Essence of things have a Relation to Man only; Hardness, Whiteness, Depth and Sharpness, have reference to the Service and Knowledge of Animals as well as to us; and Nature has equally designed them for their use. When we press down the Eye, the Body that we look upon, we perceive to be longer, and more extended; many Beasts have their Eyes so pressed down: this length therefore is peradventure the true form of that Body, and not that which our Eyes give it in their usual state. If we close the lower part of the Eye, things appear double to us.  

Bina Lucernarum florentia lumina Flammis,  
Et duplices hominum facies, & corpora bina. 
Ibid.    

One Lamp seems two, and each man does appear  
Upon a double Bulk two Heads to bear.   
If our Ears be hindered, or the Passage stopped with any thing, we receive the sound quite otherwise, than we usually do; the Animals likewise, who have either the Ears hairy, or but a very little hole instead of an Ear, do not consequently hear as we do; but another kind of sound. We see at Festivals and theatres, that opposing a painted Glass of a certain Colour to the Light of the Flambeaus, all things in the Room appear to us green, yellow, or violet.  


Ibid.  Et vulgo faciunt id lutea, russaque vela,  
Et ferruginea, cum magnis intenta Theatris  
Per malos vulgata trabesque trementia pendent:  
Namque ibi concessum caveai subter, & omnem  
Scenai speciem, patrum matrumque deorumque  
Inficiunt, coguntque suo volitare colore.   


Mr. Creech.  Thus when pale Curtains, or the deeper red,  
O'er all the spacious Theatre are spread,  
Which mighty Masts, and sturdy Pillars bear,  
And the loose Curtains wanton in the Air;  
Whole Streams of Colours from the top do flow,  
The Rays divide them in their Passage through;  
And strain the Scenes, and Men, and Gods below.   
'Tis likely that the Eyes of Animals, which we see to be of divers colours, do produce the appearance of Bodies the same with their Eyes. We should therefore, to make a right Judgement of the operations of the Senses, be first agreed with Beasts, and secondly, amongst ourselves, which we by no means are, but enter at every turn into Dispute; forasmuch as one Hears, Sees, or Tastes something otherwise than another does, and contests as much as upon any other thing, of the diversity of the Images that the Senses represent to us. A Child, by the ordinary rule of Nature, Hears, Sees, and Tastes otherwise than a Man of thirty years old, and he, than one of threescore. The Senses are in some more obscure and dusky, and more open and quick in others; and we receive things variously according as we are, and accordingly as they appear to us. Now our Perception being so uncertain and controverted, it is no more a wonder if we are told that we may declare that Snow appears white to us, but that to affirm that it is in its own Essence really so, is more than we are able to justify: and this foundation being shaken, all the Knowledge in the World must of necessity fall to ruin. What do our Senses themselves hinder one another? A Picture seems raised and embossed to the Sight, in the handling it seems flat to the Touch: Shall we say that Musk, which delights the Smell, and is offensive to the Taste, is agreeable or no? There are Herbs and Unguents, proper for one part of the Body, that are hurtful to another: Honey is pleasant to the Taste, but offensive to the Sight. They, who to assist their Lust, were wont in ancient times to make use of Magnifying Glasses, to represent the Members they were to employ, bigger, by that ocular Tumidity, to please themselves the more; to which of their Senses did they give the Prize, whether to the Sight, that represents the Members as large and great as they would desire; or to their Feeling, which represents them little and contemptible? Are they our Senses that supply the Subject with these different Conditions, and have the Subjects themselves nevertheless but one? As we see in the Bread we eat, it is nothing but Bread, but by being eaten, it becomes Bones, Blood, Flesh, Hair, and Nails. 


Id. lib. 3.  Vt cibus in membra, atque artus cum diditur omnes  
Disperit, atque aliam naturam sufficit ex se.   


Mr. Creech.  As Meats diffused through all the the Members lose  
Their former Nature, and different things compose.   The humidity sucked up by the root of a Tree, becomes Trunk, Leaf, and Fruit: and the Air being but one, is modulated in a Trumpet to a thousand sorts of Sounds. Are they our Senses, I would fain know, that in like manner form these Subjects into so many divers Qualities, or have they them really such in themselves? And upon this doubt, what can we determine of their true Essence? Moreover, since the accidents of Diseases, of Raving, or Sleep, makes things appear otherwise to us than they do to the Healthful, the Wise, and those that are awake: Is it not likely, that our right posture of Health and Understanding, and our natural Humours, have also wherewith to give a Being to things that have relation to their own Condition, and accommodate them to themselves, as well as when they are disordered; and our Health as capable of giving them an Aspect as Sickness? Why has not the Temperate a certain form of Objects relative to it as well as the Intemperate: and why may it not as well stamp it with it's own Character as the other? He, whose mouth is out of Taste, says the Wine is flat, the healthful Man commends its flavour, and the thirsty its briskness. Now our Condition always accommodating things to itself, and transforming them according to it's own posture; we cannot know what things truly are in themselves, being that nothing comes to us but what is falsified and altered by the Senses. Where the Compass, the Square, and the Rule are crooked, all Propositions drawn from thence, and all Buildings erected by those Guides, must of necessity be also defective. The incertainty of our Senses renders every thing uncertain that they produce.  

Denique ut in fabrica, si prava est regula prima, 
Id. l. 4.   
Normáque si fallax rectis regionibus exit,  
Et libella aliqua si ex parte claudicat hilum,  
Omnia mendose fieri, atque obstipa necessum est,  
Prava, cubantia, prona, supina, atque absona tecta,  
Jam ruere ut quaedam videantur velle ruántque  
Prodita judiciis fallacibus omnia primis  
Hic igitur ratio tibi rerum prava necesse est,  
Falsaque sit falsis quaecumque à sensibus orta est.   

But lastly, as in Building, if the Line  

Mr. Creech.  Be not exact and strait, the Rule decline,  
Or Levelly false, how vain is the Design!  
Uneven, an ill shaped, and tottering Wall  
Must rise, this part must sink, that part must fall,  
Because the Rules were false that fashioned all:  
Thus Reasons Rules are false, if all commence,  
And rise from failing, and from erring Sense.   
As to what remains, who can be fit to judge of, and to determine these Differences? As we say in Controversies of Religion, that we must have a Judge, neither inclining to the one side nor the other, free from all Choice and Affection, which cannot be amongst Christians; just so it falls out in this; for if he be old, he cannot judge of the sense of old Age, being himself a Party in the Case: if Young, there is the same Exception; if Healthful, Sick, Asleep, or Awake, he is still the same incompetent Judge: We must have some one exempt from all these Propositions, as of things indifferent to him; and by this Rule we must have a Judge that never was. To judge of the appearance that we receive of Subjects, we ought to have a deciding Instrument, to prove this Instrument, we must have Demonstration, to verify this Demonstration, an Instrument, and here we are upon the Wheel. Seeing the Senses cannot determine our Dispute, being full of incertainty themselves, it must then be Reason that must do it; but no Reason can be erected upon any other foundation than that of another Reason, and so we run back to all Infinity. Our fancy does not apply itself to things that are strange, but is conceived by the mediation of the Senses, and Senses do not comprehend a foreign Subject, but only their own Passions, by which means fancy and appearance are no part of the Subject, but only of the Passion and Sufferance of Sense, which Passion and Subject are several things; wherefore, whoever judges by Apparences, judges by another thing than the Subject. And to say that the Passions of the Senses convey to the Soul the quality of strange Subjects by Resemblance: how can the Soul and Understanding be assured of this Resemblance, having of itself no Commerce with foreign Subjects? As they who never knew Socrates, cannot, when they see his Picture, say it is like him. Now, whoever would notwithstanding judge by Apparences, if it be by all, it is impossible, because they hinder one another by their Contrarieties and Discrepancies, as we by Experience see. Shall some select Apparences govern the rest? You must verify this Select by another Select, the second by the third, and consequently there will never be any end on't. Finally, there is no constant Existence neither of the Objects Being, nor our own. Both we, and our Judgements, and all mortal things, are evermore incessantly running and rolling, and consequently, nothing certain can be established from the one to the other, both the judging and the judged being in a continual Motion and Mutation: We have no Communication with Being, by reason that all humane Nature is always in the midst, betwixt being Born and Dying, giving but an obscure Appearance and Shadow, a weak and uncertain Opinion of itself. And if peradventure you fix your thought to apprehend your Being, it would be but like grasping Water, for the more you clutch your hand to squeeze and hold what is in its own nature flowing, so much more you lose of what you would grasp and hold: So seeing that all things are subject to pass from one change to another, Reason, that there looks for a real Substance, finds itself deceived, not being able to apprehend any thing that is Subsistent and Permanent, because that every thing is either entering into Being, and is not yet wholly arrived at it, or begins to Die before it is Born. Plato said, that Bodies had never any Existence, but only Birth; conceiving that Homer had made the Ocean, and Thetis, Father and Mother of the Gods, to show us, that all things are in a perpetual Fluctuation, Motion, and Variation; the Opinion of all the Philosophers, as he says, before his time, Parmenides only excepted, who would not allow things to have Motion, of the Power whereof he sets a mighty Value. Pythagoras was of Opinion, that all Matter was flowing and unstable: The Stoics, that there is no time present, and that what we call so, is nothing but the juncture, and meeting of the future and the past: Heraclitus, that never any man entered twice into the same River: Epicharmus; that who borrowed Money but an hour ago, does not owe it now; and, that he, who was invited overnight to come the next day to Dinner, comes nevertheless uninvited, considering, that they are no more the same men, but are become others; and, that there could not a mortal Substance be found twice in the same Condition: for, by the suddenness and quickness of Change, it one while disperses, and another reassembles; it comes and goes after such a manner, that what begins to be Born, never arrives to the Perfection of Being; forasmuch as that Birth is never finished, and never stays, as being at an end, but from the Seed is evermore changing and shifting from one to another. As humane Seed is first in the Mother's Womb made a formless Embryo, after delivered thence a sucking Infant; afterwards it becomes a Boy, then consequently a Youth, after that a full Man, than a middle-aged Man, and at last a decrepit old Man. So that Age and subsequent Generation is always destroying and spoiling that which went before. 

Mutat enim Mundi naturam totius aetas, 
Idem. lib. 5.   
Ex alioque alius status excipere omnia debet,  
Nec manet illa sui similis res, omnia migrant,  
Omnia commutat natura & vertere cogit.   

For Time the Nature of the World translates,  
And gives all things new from preceding states:  
Nought like itself remains, but all do range,  
And Nature forces every thing to change.   And yet we foolishly fear one kind of Death, whereas we have already past, and do daily pass so many other. For not only, as Heraclitus said, the Death of the Fire is the Generation of the Air, and the Death of Air the Generation of Water: but moreover, we may more manifestly discern it in ourselves: The Flower of Youth dies, and passes away when Age comes on, and youth is terminated in the Flower of Age of a full grown Man; Infancy in Youth, and the first Age dies in Infancy: Yesterday died in to Day, and to Day will die in to Morrow; and there is nothing that remains in the same state, or that is always the same thing. And that it is so, let this be the Proof; If we are always one and the same, how comes it then to pass, that we are now pleased with one thing, and by and by with another? How comes it to pass that we love contrary things, that we praise or condemn them? How comes it to pass that we have different Affections, and no more retain the same Sentiment in the same Thought? For it is not likely that without mutation we should assume other Passions; and that which suffers Mutation does not remain the same, and if it be not the same, it is not at all: But the same that the Being is, does, like it, unknowingly change and alter, becoming evermore another from another thing: And consequently the natural Senses abuse and deceive themselves, taking that which seems, for that which is, for want of well knowing what that which is, is. But what is it then that truly is? That which is Eternal: that is to say, that never had beginning, nor never shall have ending, and to which Time can bring no mutation. 
Time a moving thing without permanency.  For Time is a mobile thing, and that appears as in a shadow, with a matter evermore flowing and running, without ever remaining stable and permanent: and to which those words appertain, before, and after, has been, or shall be: Which at the first sight evidently show, that it is not a thing that is; and it were a great folly, and an apparent falsity, to say that that is, which is not yet in being, or that has already ceased to be. And as to these words, present, instant, and now, by which it seems that we principally support and found the intelligence of Time, Reason discovering, does presently destroy it; for it immediately divides and splits it into the future and past, being of necessity to consider it divided in two. The same happens to Nature, that is measured, as to Time that measures it; for she has nothing more subsisting and permanent than the other, but all things are either born, bearing, or dying. By which means, it were a sinful saying, to say of God, who is He who only is, that He was, or that He shall be: for those are Terms of declension, transportation, and vicissitude, of what cannot continue, nor remain in Being. Wherefore we are to conclude, that God only is, not according to any measure of Time, but according to an immutable and immovable Eternity, not measured by Time, nor subject to any Declension: before whom nothing was, and after whom nothing shall be, either more new, or more recent, but a real Being, that with one sole Now fills the for ever, and that there is nothing that truly is, but He alone; without being able to say, He has been, or shall be, without beginning, and without end. To this Religious conclusion of a Pagan, I shall only add this testimony of one of the same condition, for the close of this long and tedious Discourse, which would furnish me with endless matter. What a vile and abject thing, says he, is man, if he do not raise himself above Humanity? 'Tis a good word, and a profitable desire, but withal absurd; For to make the handle bigger than the Hand, and the Cubit longer than the Arm, and to hope to stride further than our Legs can reach, is both impossible and monstrous; or that Man should rise above himself and Humanity: for he cannot see but with his Eyes, nor seize but with his Power. He shall be exalted, if God will lend him his extraordinary hand; he shall exalt himself, by abandoning and renouncing his own proper means, and by suffering himself to be raised and elevated by means purely Celestial; It belongs to our Christian Faith, and not to the Stoical Virtue, to pretend to that Divine and miraculous Metamorphosis.   

CHAP. XIII. Of judging of the Death of another.  
WHen we judge of another's assurance in Death, which without doubt is the most remarkable action of humane Life; we are to take notice of one thing, which is, that men very hardly believe themselves to be arrived to that period. Few men die in an opinion that it is their latest hour, and there is nothing wherein the flattery of Hope does more delude us. It never ceases to whisper in our Ears, 
No very resolute assurance at the article of death.  Others have been much sicker without dying; my condition is not so desperate as 'tis thought, and at the worst, God has done other Miracles. Which happens, by reason that we set too much value upon ourselves. It seems as if the Universality of things were in some measure to suffer by our dissolution, and that it did commiserate our condition. For as much as our depraved sight represents things to itself after the same manner, and that we are of opinion they stand in as much need of us as we do of them; like People at Sea, to whom Mountains, Fields, Cities, Heaven and Earth are tossed at the same rate they are: 

Provehimur portu, terraeque, urbesque recedunt. 
Aeneid. l. 3.    

Out of the Port with a brisk gale we speed,  
And making way, Cities and Lands recede.   Whoever saw old Age that did not applaud the past, and condemn the present time, laying the fault of his Misery and Discontent upon the World, and the Manners of Men?  


Lucret. l. 1.  Jamque caput quassans grandis suspirat arator,  
Et cum tempora, temporibus praesentia confert  
Praeteritis, laudat fortunas saepe parentis,  
Et crepat antiquum genus ut pietate repletum.   

Now the old Ploughman sighs and shakes his Head,  
And present times comparing with those fled,  
His predecessors happiness does praise,  
And the great Piety of that old Race.   
We will make all things to go along with us: whence it follows, that we consider our Death as a very great thing, and that does not so easily pass, nor without the solemn Consultation of the Stars: Tot circa unum Caput tumultuantes Deos, and so much the more think it, as we more value ourselves. What shall so much Knowledge be lost, with so much damage to the World without a particular concern of the Destinies? Does so rare and exemplary a Soul cost no more the kill than one that is mean, and of no use to the public? This Life that protects so many others, upon which so many other Lives depend, that employs so vast a number of men in his Service, and that fills so many places, shall it drop off like one that hangs but by its own simple Thread? None of us lays it enough to Heart, that we are but one. Thence proceeded those Words of Caesar to his Pilot, more tumid than the Sea that threatened him.  

— Italiam si coelo authore recusas 
Lucan. l. 1·   
Me pete: sola tibi causa haec est justa timoris,  
Victorem non nosce tuum, perrumpe procellas  
Tutela secure mei—   

If thou to sail to Italy decline  
Under the God's Protection, trust to mine;  
The only just cause that thou hast to fear,  
Is that thou dost not know thy Passenger;  
But, I being aboard, slight Neptune's braves,  
And fearless cut through the swelling Waves.   
And these, 

— credit jam digna pericula Caesar  
Fatis esse suis, tantusque evertere (dixit)  
Me superis labor est, parva quem puppe sedentem,  
Tam magno petiere mari—   

These Dangers, worthy of his Destiny,  
Caesar did now believe, and then did cry,  
What is it for the Gods a task so great  
To overthrow me, that to do the feat  
In a poor little Bark they must be fain  
Here to surprise me on the swelling Main?   And that idle Fancy of the Public, 
The Suns Mourning for the Death of Caesar.  that the Sun carried in his Face the Mourning for his Death a whole Year. 

Ille etiam extincto miseratus Caesare Romam,  
Cum Caput obscura nitidum ferrugine texit. 
Virgil. Georg. l. 1.    

And pitying Rome, Great Caesar being dead,  
In mourning Clouds Sol veiled his shining Head.   and a thousand of the like; wherewith the World suffers itself to be so easily imposed upon, believing that our interests alter the Heavens, and that they are concerned at our ordinary Actions. Non tanta Coelo societas nobiscum est, 
Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 2· c. 8.  ut nostro fato mortalis sit ille, quoque siderum fulgor. There is no such Alliance betwixt us and Heaven, that the Brightness of the Stars should be made Mortal by our Death. Now to judge of the Constancy and Resolution in a Man that does not yet believe himself to be certainly in Danger, though he really is, is no Reason; and 'tis not enough that he dies in this posture, unless he did purposely put himself into it for this effect. It most commonly falls out in most men, that they set a good Face upon the Matter, and speak with great Indifferency, to acquire Reputation, which they hope afterward living to enjoy. Of all that I have seen die, Fortune has disposed their Countenances, and no design of theirs; and even of those who in ancient times have made away themselves, there is much to be considered, whether it were a sudden, or a lingering Death. That cruel Roman Emperor would say of his Prisoners, That he would make them feel Death, and if any one killed himself in Prison, That Fellow has made an escape from me; he would say he would spin out Death, and make it felt by Torments.  

Vidimus & toto quamvis in Corpore caeso, 
Lucan. l. 2.   
Nil animae lethale datum, moremque nefandae  
Durum saevitiae, percunctis parcere morti.   

And in tormented Bodies we have seen,  
Amongst those Wounds none that have mortal been,  
Inhuman Method of dire Cruelty,  
That means to kill; yet will not let men die.   
In plain truth, it is no such great Matter for a Man in Health and in a temperate state of Mind, to resolve to kill himself; it is very easy to give ill sign● before one comes to the push: insomuch that Heliogabalus, the most effeminate Man in the World, amongst his most sensual Pleasures, could forecast to make himself die delicately, when he should be forced thereto. And that his Death might not give the lie to the rest of his Life, had purposely built a sumptuous Tower, the Front and Base whereof was covered and laid with Planks enriched with Gold and precious Stones, thence to precipitate himself; and also caused Cords twisted with Gold and Crimson Silk to be made, wherewith to strangle himself; and a Sword with the blade of Gold to be hammered out to fall upon: and kept Poison in Vessels of Emerald and Topaz wherewith to poison himself, according as he should like to choose one of these ways of dying.  


Id. l. 4.  Impiger, & fortis virtute coacta.   

By a forced Valour resolute and brave.   
Yet, for so much as concerns this Person, the effeminacy of his Preparations makes it more likely that he would have thought better on't, had he been put to the test. But in those who with greater Resolution have determined to dispatch themselves, we must examine, whether it were with one blow which took away the leisure of feeling the Effect: for it is to be questioned, whether perceiving Life by little and little to steal away, the sentiment of the Bod●● mixing itself with that of the Soul, and the means of repenting being offered, whether, I say, Constancy and Obstinacy in so dangerous a will is to be found. In the Civil Wars of Caesar, Lucius Domittus being taken in Prussia, and thereupon poisoning himself, afterward repent. It has happened in our time, that a certain Person being resolved to die, and not having gone deep enough at the first thrust, the sensibility of the Flesh opposing his Arm, gave himself three or four Wounds more, but could never prevail upon himself to thrust home. Whilst Plantius Sylvanus was upon his Trial, Virgulantia his Grand Mother sent him a Poignard, with which not being able to kill himself, he made his Servants to cut his Veins. Albucilla in Tiberius his Time, having, to kill himself, struck with too much tenderness, gave his Adversaries Opportunity to imprison, and put him to Death their own way: and that great Leader Demosthenes, after his Rout in Sicily did the same; and C. Fimbria, having struck himself too weakly, entreated his Servant to dispatch him, and to kill him out. On the contrary, Ostorius, who could not make use of his own Arm, disdained to employ that of his Servant to any other use, but only to hold the Poignard strait and firm; and running his Breast full drive against it, thrust himself through. 'Tis in truth a morsel that is to be swallowed without chewing, unless a man be throughly resolved▪ and yet Adrian the Emperor made his Physician mark and encircle in his Pap the mortal place wherein he was to stab, to him he had given order to kill him. For this reason it was, that Caesar being asked what Death he thought to be the most desired, made Answer, The least premeditated, and the shortest. If Caesar dared to say it, it is no Cowardice in me to believe it. A short Death, says Pliny, is the sovereign good hap of humane Life. They do not much care to discover it: No one can say that he is resolved for Death, who fears to trifle with it, and that cannot undergo it with his Eyes open. They that we see in exemplary Punishments run to their Death, hasten and press their Execution, do it not out of Resolution, but they will not give themselves leisure to consider it; it does not trouble them to be dead, but to die.  


Cice. Thus. lib. 1.  Emori nolo, sed me esse mortuum, nihili aestimo.   

I would not die, but care not to be dead.   
'Tis a degree of Constancy to which I have experimented, that I can arrive to do like those who plunge themselves into Dangers, as into the Sea, with their Eyes shut. There is nothing, in my Opinion, more illustrious in the Life of Socrates, 
The constant and resolute Death of Socrates.  than that he had thirty whole days wherein to ruminate upon the Sentence of his Death; to have digested it all that time with a most assured hope, without care, and without alteration, and with Words and Actions rather careless and indifferent, than any way stirred or discomposed by the weight of such a Thought. That Pomponius Atticus, 
The death of Pomponius Atticus, by Fasting.  to whom Cicero writes so oft, being sick, caused Agrippa his Son-in-law, and two or three more of his Friends, to be called to him, and told them, That having found all means practised upon him for his Recovery to be in vain, and that all he did to prolong his Life, did also prolong and augment his Pain; he was resolved to put an end both to the one and the other, desiring them to approve of his Deliberation, or at least, not to lose their labour in endeavouring to dissuade him. Now having chosen to destroy himself by Abstinence, his Disease was accidentally so cured, and the Remedy that he had made use of wherewith to kill himself, restored him to his perfect Health. His Physicians and Friends rejoicing at so happy an Event, and coming to congratulate him, found themselves very much deceived, it being impossible for them to make him alter his Purpose; he telling them, that he must one day die, and that being now so far on his way, he would save himself the labour of beginning again another time. This Man, having discovered Death at leisure, was not only not discouraged at the approach of it, but provokes it: for being satisfied that he had engaged in the Combat, he considered it as a piece of Bravery, and that he was obliged in Honour to see the end. 'Tis far beyond not fearing Death, to taste and relish it. The Story of the Philosopher Cleanthes is very like this. He had his Gums swelled and rotten; his Physicians advised him to great Abstinence: having fasted two days, he was so much better, that they pronounced him cured, and permitted him to his ordinary course of Diet: he, on the contrary, already tasting some sweetness in this Faintness of his, would not be persuaded to go back, but resolved to proceed, and to finish what he had so far advanced. Tullius Marcellinus, a Youngman of Rome, having a mind to anticipate the hour of his Destiny, to be rid of a Disease that was more trouble to him than he was willing to endure; though his Physicians assured him of a certain, though not sudden Cure, called a Council of his Friends, to consult about it; of which, some, says Seneca, gave him the Counsel, that out of Unmanliness they would have taken themselves, others, out of Flattery, such as they thought he would best like: but a Stoic said thus to him, Do not concern thyself, Marcellinus, as if thou didst deliberate of a thing of Importance; 'tis no great matter to live, thy Servants and Beasts live, but it is a great thing to die handsomely, wisely, and constantly: do but think how long thou hast done the same thing, eat, drink, and sleep, drink, sleep, and eat. We incessantly wheel in the same circle: not only ill and insupportable Accidents, but even the satiety of living, inclines a man to desire to die. Marcellinus did not stand in need of a man to advise, but of a man to assist him; his Servants were afraid to meddle in the Business: but this Philosopher gave them to understand, that Domestics are suspected, even when it is in doubt, whether the Death of the Master were voluntary, or no; otherwise, that it would be of as ill example to hinder him, as to kill him, forasmuch as, 


Horat. in Art Poet.  Invitum qui servat, idem facit occidenti.   

Who makes a man to live against his Will,  
As cruel is, as if he did him kill.    
He afterwards told Marcellinus, that it would not be indecent, as the remainder of Tables, when we have done, is given to the Assistants; so Life being ended, to distribute something to those who have been our Servants. Now Marcellinus was of a free and liberal Spirit; he therefore divided a certain sum of Money amongst his Attendants, and comforted them. As to the rest, he had no need of Steel, nor of Blood. He was resolved to go out of this Life, and not to run out of it; not to escape from Death, but to essay it. And to give himself leisure to trifle with it, having forsaken all manner of Nourishment, the third day following, after having caused himself to be sprinkled with warm Water, he fainted by degrees, and not without some kind of Pleasure, as he himself declared. In earnest, such as have been acquainted with these Faintings, proceeding from weakness, do say that they are therein sensible of no manner of Pain, but rather feel a kind of Delight, as in a Passage to Sleep and Rest. These are studied and digested Deaths. But to the end that Cato only may furnish out the whole Example of Virtue, 
Death bravely confronted by Cato.  it seems as if his good Destiny had put his ill one into his hand, with which he gave himself the Blow; seeing he had the leisure to confront and struggle with Death, reinforcing his Courage in the greatest danger, instead of letting it go less. And if I had been to represent him in his supreme Station, I should have done it in the posture of tearing out his bloody Bowels, rather than with his Sword in his hand, as did the Statuaries of his time: for, this second Murder was much more furious than the first.   

CHAP. XIV. That the Mind hinders itself.  
'TIS a pleasant Imagination to fancy a Mind exactly balanced betwixt two equal desires: for doubtless it can never pitch upon either, forasmuch as the Choice and Application would manifest an inequality of esteem; and were we set betwixt the Bottle and the Ham with an equal Appetite to drink and eat, there would doubtless be no remedy, but we must die of Thirst and Hunger. To provide against this Inconvenience, the Stoics, when they are asked whence this Election in the Soul of two indifferent things does proceed, (and that makes us out of a great number of Crowns rather take one than another, there being no reason to incline us to such a preference) makes Answer, That this movement of the Soul is extraordinary and irregular, that enters into us by a strange, accidental, and fortuitous Impulse. It might rather methinks be said, that nothing presents itself to us wherein there is not some difference, how little soever; and that either by the Sight or Touch there is always some choice, that, though it be imperceptibly, tempts and attracts us. Whoever likewise shall presuppose a packthread equally strong throughout, it is utterly impossible it should break; for, where will you have the breaking to begin? and that it should break altogether is not in nature. Whoever also should hereunto join the Geometrical Propositions, that by the certainty of their Demonstrations conclude the Contained to be greater than the Containing, the Centre also to be as great as the Circumference, and that find out two Lines incessantly approaching each other, and that yet can never meet, and the Philosopher's Stone, and the Quadrature of Circle, where the Reason and the Effect are so opposite; might peradventure find some Argument to second this bold Saying of Pliny, Solum certum nihil esse certi, 
Plin. l. 2. c. 7.  & homine nihil miserius aut superbius. That it is only certain there is nothing certain, and that nothing is more miserable, or more proud than Man.   

CHAP. XV. That our Desires are augmented by difficulty.  
THere is no Reason that has not his contrary, say the wisest of Philosophers: which puts me upon ruminating on the excellent Saying one of the Ancients alleges for the contempt of Life; No Good can bring Pleasure, if not that for the loss of which we are beforehand prepared: In aequo est dolor amissae rei, 
Senec. Ep. 98.  & timor amittendae, The grief of losing a thing, and the fear of losing it, are equal. Meaning by that, that the Fruition of Life cannot be truly pleasant to us, if we are in fear of losing it. It might however be said on the contrary, that we hug and embrace this Good by so much the more tenderly, and with so much greater Affection, by how much we see it the less assured, and fear to have it taken from us; for, as it is evident, that Fire burns with greater Fury when Cold comes to mix with it, so our Wills are more obstinate by being opposed: 


Ovid. Am. lib. 2. El. 19  Si nunquam Danaen habuisset ahenea turris,  
Non esset Danae de Jove facta parens.   

A brazen Tower if Danae had not had,  
She ne'er by Jove had been a Mother made.   and that there is nothing naturally contrary to our Taste but Satiety, which proceeds from facility; nor any thing that so much whets it, as Rarity and Difficulty. 
Sen. de Ben. lib. 7. cap. 9  Omnium rerum voluptas ipso quo debet fugare periculo crescit. The pleasure of all things increases by the same danger that should deter it.  


Mart. lib. 4. Epig. 38.  Galla nega▪ satiatur amor nisi gaudia torquent.   

Galla deny, be not too easily gained,  
For Love will glut with Joys too soon obtained.   
To keep Love in breath, Lycurgus made a Decree, that the married People of Lacedaemonia should never enjoy one another but by stealth; and that it should be as great a shame to take them in bed together as committing with others. The difficulty of Assignations, the danger of Surprise, and the Shame of the Morning, 

& languor, & silentium, 
Hor. Epod. 11.   
Et latere petitus imo spiritus.   

The languor, silence, and the far-fetched Sighs,  
That fearing to be heard do trembling rise.   these are they that give the Haut-gout to the Sauce. How many very wantonly pleasant Plays are made from the cleanly and modest way of speaking of the Works of Love? Even Pleasure itself would be heightened with Pain. It is much sweeter when it smarts, and has the Skin rippled. The Courtesan Flora said she never lay with Pompey, but that she made him wear the Prints of her Teeth.  
Quod petiere, premunt aretè, 
Lucret. l. 4.  faciuntque dolorem  
Corporis, & dentes incidunt saepe labellis:  
Et stimuli subsunt, qui instigant laedere ad ipsum  
Quodcunque est, rabbiss unde illae germina surgunt.  
And so it is in every thing: Difficulty gives all things their Estimation. Those of the Marque of Ancona, most cheerfully make their Vows to St. James, and those of Galicia to our Lady of Loretta, they make wonderful Boasts at Liege of the Baths of Luques, and in Tuscany of those of Aspa: there are few Romans seen in the Fencing-Schools of Rome, which is full of French. The great Cato also, as well as we, nauseated his Wife whilst she was his, and longed for her when in the Possession of another. I was fain to turn out an old Stallion into the Paddock, being he was vicious, and not to be governed when he smelled a Mare: the facility presently sated him, as towards his own, but towards strange Mares, and the first that past by the Pale of his Pasture, he would again fall to his importunate Neighing and his furious Heats, as before. Our Appetite contemns, and passes by what it has in possession, to run after that it has not.  


Hor. l. 1. sat. 2.  Transvolat in medio posita, & fugientia captat.   

Thou scornest that Lass thou may'st with ease enjoy, 
Mr. Alex. Brome.   
And court'st those that are difficult and coy.   
To forbid us any thing, is to make us have a mind to't.  

nisi tu servare puellam  

Ovid. Amo. l. 2. El. 19  Incipis, incipiet desinere esse mea.   

If thou no better guard that Girl of thine,  
She'll soon begin to be no longer mine.   
To give it wholly up to us, is to beget in us Contempt, Want, and abundance fall into the same Inconvenience.  


Terence.  Tibi quod superest, mihi quod desit, dolet.   

Thy Superfluities do trouble thee,  
And what I want, and pant for, troubles me.   
Desire and Fruition do equally afflict us. The rigours of Mistresses are troublesome, but facility, to say truth, is more, forasmuch as Discontent and Anger spring from the esteem we have of the thing desired, heat and actuate Love, but Satiety begets disgust; 'tis a blunt, dull, stupid, tired, and slothful Passion.  

Si qua volet regnare diu, contemnat amentem. 
Ovid. Amo.  contemnite amantes.  
Sic hodie veniet, si qua negavit heri. 
Propert.    

The Lady that would keep her Servant still,  
Must in discretion sometimes use him ill;  
And the same Policy with Men will do,  
If they sometimes do slight their Misses too;  
By which means she that yesterday said nay,  
Will come and offer up herself to day.   
Why did Poppea invent the use of a Mask to hide the Beauties of her Face, but to enhance it to her Lovers? Why have they veiled, even below the Heels, those Beauties that every one desires to show, and that every one desires to see? Why do they cover, with so many Hindrances one over another, the Parts where our desires and their own have their principal Seat? And to what serve those great Bastion Farthingals, with which our Ladies fortify their Haunches, but to allure our Appetite, and to draw us on by removing them farther from us?  

Et fugit ad salices, & se cupit antè videri. 
Virg. Eg. 3.    

And to the Osiers flies herself to hide,  
But does desire to have her flight decried.   


Propert. l. 2. ●leg. 12.  Interdum tunica duxit operta moram.   

Things being laid too open to the Sight,  
Do sometimes put a stop to the Delight.   
To what use serves the artifice of this Virgin Modesty? this grave Coldness, this severe Countenance, this profession to be ignorant of things that they know better than we who instruct them in them, but to increase in us the desire to overcome, control, and trample under foot at pleasure, all this Ceremony, and all these Obstacles? For there is not only Pleasure, but moreover, Glory, to conquer and debauch that soft Sweetness, and that childish Modesty, and to reduce a cold and Matron-like Gravity to the Mercy of our ardent Desires: 'Tis a glory, say they, to triumph over Modesty, Chastity, and Temperance; and whoever dissuades Ladies from those Qualities, betray both them and themselves. They are to believe, That their Hearts tremble with affright, that the very sound of our Words offends the purity of their Ears, that they hate us for talking so, and only yield to our Importunity by a compulsive force. Beauty, as powerful as it is, has not wherewithal to make itself relished, without the Mediation of these little Arts: look into Italy, where there is the most and the finest Beauty to be sold, how it is nevertheless necessitated to have recourse to other means and other artifices to render itself charming, and if in truth, whatever it may do being venal and public, it does not remain feeble and languishing in itself. Even as in Virtue itself, of two like effects, we notwithstanding look upon that as the best and most worthy, wherein the most trouble and hazard is proposed. 'Tis an effect of the divine Providence to suffer the holy Church to be afflicted, as we see it, with so many Storms and Troubles, by this opposition to rouse pious Souls, and to awake them from that drowsy Lethargy whereinto, by so long Tranquillity, they had been immerged. If we should lay the loss we have sustained in the number of those who have gone astray, in the Balance against the Benefit we have had by being again put in breath, and by having our Zeal and Forces exercised by reason of this Opposition; I know not whether the Utility would not surmount the Damage. We have thought to tie the Nuptial Knot of our Marriages more fast and firm, for having taken all means of dissolving it; but the Knot of the Will and Affection is so much the more slackened and made loose, by how much that of Constraint is drawn closer together. And on the contrary, that which kept the Marriages at Rome so long in honour and inviolate, was the liberty every one that would had to break them. They kept their Wives the better, because they might part with them if they would: and in the full liberty of Divorces they lived fifty years and more, before any one made use on't.  


Ovid. Amo. lib. 2. El. 19  Quod licet, ingratum est, quod non licet, acrius urit.   

What's free we are disgusted at, and slight,  
What is forbidden whets the Appetite.   
We might here introduce the Opinion of an Ancient upon this occasion, That Executions rather whet than dull the edge of Vices: That they do not beget the care of doing well, that being the work of Reason and Discipline; but only a care not to be taken in doing ill.  


Rutilius in Itinerario.  Latius excisae pestis contagia serpunt.   

The Plaguesore being lanced, th' Infection spreads.   
I do not know that this is true; but I experimentally know, that never Civil Government was by that means reformed. The order and regiment of Manners depend upon some other expedient. The Greek Histories make mention of the Agrippians, Neighbours to Scythia, who live without either rod or stick to offend; that not only no one attempts to attack them, but whoever can fly thither is safe, by reason of their Virtue and Sanctity of Life, and no one is so bold as there to lay hands upon them; and they have Applications made to them to determine the Controversies that arise betwixt Men of other Countries. There is a certain Nation, where the Enclosures of Gardens and Fields they would preserve, is made only of a string of Cotton-yarn; and so fenced, is more firm and secure than our Hedges and Ditches. Furem signata solicitant. Aperta effractarius praeterit. 
Senec. Epist. 68  Things sealed up invite a Thief. House-breakers pass by open doors. Peradventure the facility of entering my House, amongst other things, has been a means to preserve it from the Violence of our Civil Wars. Defence allures Attempt, and Defiance provokes an Enemy. I enervated the Soldiers design, by depriving the Exploit of Danger, and all matter of Military Glory, which is wont to serve them for pretence and excuse. Whatever is bravely, is ever honourably done, at a time when Justice is dead. I render them the Conquest of my House cowardly and base; it is never shut to any one that knocks. My Gate has no other Guard than a Porter, and that of ancient Custom and Ceremony; who does not so much serve to defend it, as to offer it with more decency, and the better grace. I have no other Guard nor Centinel than the Stars. A Gentleman would play the Fool to make a show of Defence, if he be not really in a Condition to defend himself. He that lies open on one side, is every where so. Our Ancestors did not think of building frontier Garrisons. The means of assaulting, I mean without Battery, or Army, and of surprising our Houses, increase every day above the means to guard them. men's Wits are generally bend that way. Invasion every one is concerned in, none but the Rich in Defence. Mine was strong for the time when it was built, I have added nothing to it of that kind, and should fear that its strength should turn against myself; to which we are to consider, that a peaceable time would require it should be dismantled. There is danger never to be able to regain it, and it would be very hard to keep. For in intestine Dissensions your man may be of the Party you fear; and where Religion is the Pretext, even a man's nearest Relations becomes unfaithful with a colour of Justice. The public Exchequer will not maintain our domestic Garrisons; they would exhaust it. We ourselves have not means to do it without ruin, or which is more inconvenient and injurious, without ruining the People. As to the rest, you there lose all, and even your Friends will be more ready to accuse your want of Vigilancy, and your Improvidence, than to lament you. That so many garrisoned Houses have been lost, whereas this of mine remains, makes me apt to believe, that they were only lost, by being guarded. This gives an Enemy both an Invitation and colour of reason. All defence shows a face of War. Let who will come to me in God's Name; but I shall not invite them. 'Tis the Retirement I have chosen for my repose from War. I endeavour to withdraw this corner from the public Tempest, as I also do another corner in my Soul. Our War may put on what forms it will, multiply, and diversify itself into new Parties; for my part I shall not budge. Amongst so many garrisoned Houses, I am the only Person of my Condition, that I know of, who have purely entrusted mine to the Protection of Heaven; without removing either Plate, Deeds, or Hangings. I will neither fear, nor save myself by halfs. If a full acknowledgement can acquire the Divine Favour, it will stay with me to the end: if not, I have however continued long enough, to render my continuance remarkable and fit to be recorded. How? Why, I have lived thirty Years.   

CHAP. XVI. Of Glory.  
THere is the Name and the thing: the Name is a Voice which denotes and signifies the thing; the name is no part of the thing, or of the Substance; 'tis a foreign piece joined to the thing; and without it, God, who is all fullness in himself, and the height of all Perfection, cannot augment or add any thing to himself within; but his Name may be augmented and increased by the Blessing and Praise we attribute to his exterior Works. Which Praise, seeing we cannot incorporate it in him, forasmuch as he can have no accession of good, we attribute it to his Name; which is the part out of him, that is nearest to us. Thus is it, that to God alone Glory and Honour appertain; and there is nothing so remote from Reason, as that we should go in quest of it for ourselves; for being indigent and necessitous within, our Essence being imperfect, and having need of Melioration, 'tis to that, that we ought to employ all our endeavour. We are all hollow and empty: 'tis not with wind and voice that we are to fill ourselves; we want a more solid substance to repair us: a man starved with hunger, would be very simple to seek rather to provide himself of a gay Garment, than a good Meal: we are to look after that whereof we have most need. As we have it in our ordinary Prayers, Gloria in excelsis Deo, in Terra pax hominibus. 
St. Luke, chap. 2.  Glory be to God on high, and in Earth Peace, etc. We are in great want of Beauty, Health, Wisdom, Virtue, and such like essential Qualities: exterior Ornaments should be looked after when we have made Provision for necessary things. Divinity treats amply and more pertinently of this Subject, but I am not much versed in it. Chrysippus and Diogenes were the first and the most constant Authors of the contempt of Glory: and maintained, that amongst all Pleasures, there was none more dangerous, nor more to be avoided, than that which proceeds from the Approbation of others. And in truth, Experience makes us sensible of many very hurtful Treasons in it. There is nothing that so poisons Princes, as flattery, nor any thing whereby wicked men more easily obtain Credit and Favour with them: nor Pandarism so proper and usually made use of to corrupt the Chastity of Women, than to wheedle and entertain them with their own Prayers. The first Charm the Sirens made use of to allure Ulysses, is of this Nature.  

Deca verse nous, deca, o tres-lovable Ulysse, 
Plutarch.   
Et le plus grand honneur dont la Grece fleurise.   

To us, noble Ulysses, this way, this  
Thou greatest Ornament and pride of Greece.   
These Philosophers said, that all the Glory of the World was not worth an understanding man's holding out his Finger to obtain it; 

Gloria quantalibet quid erit, si Gloria tantum est? 
Juven. Sat. 7.    

What's Glory in the highest degree  
If it no more but Glory be?   I say for it alone: for it often brings several commodities along with it, for which it may justly be desired: it acquires us good will, and renders us less subject and exposed to the injuries of others, and the like. It was also one of the principal Doctrines of Epicurus; for this Precept of his Sect, Conceal thy Life, that forbids men to encumber themselves with Offices and public Negotiations, does also necessarily presuppose a contempt of Glory, which is the world's approbation of those actions we produce in public. He that bids us conceal ourselves, and to have no other Concern but for ourselves, and that will not have us known to others, would much less have us honoured and glorified. He advises Idomeneus also, not in any sort to regulate his Actions by the common reputation, or opinion; if not to avoid the other accidental inconveniences that the contempt of men might bring upon him. Those Discourses are in my opinion very true and rational: but we are, I know not how, double in ourselves, which is the cause that what we believe we do not believe, and cannot disengage ourselves from what we condemn. Let us see the last, and dying words of Epicurus; they are great, and worthy of such a Philosopher, and yet they carry some marks of the recommendation of his name, and of that humour he had decried by his Precepts. Here is a Letter that he dictated a little before his last gasp.  

Epicurus to Hermachus, health.  
WHilst I was passing over the happy, and last day of my Life, I writ this; but at the same time, afflicted with such a pain in my Bladder and Bowels, that nothing can be greater. But it was recompensed with the Pleasure the remembrance of my Inventions and Doctrines suggested to my Soul. Now, as the affection thou hast ever from thy Infancy borne towards me, and Philosophy does require, take upon thee the Protection of Metrodorus his Children.   
This is the Letter. And that which makes me interpret that the Pleasure he says he had in his Soul, concerning his Inventions, has some reference to the Reputation he hoped for after his Death, is the manner of his Will. In which he gives order, that Aminomachus and Timocrates, his Heirs, should every January defray the Expense for the Celebration of his Nativity, that Hermachus should appoint; and also the expense that should be made the twentieth of every Moon in entertaining of the Philosophers, his Friends, who should assemble in Honour of the Memory of him and Metrodorus. Carneades was Head of the contrary Opinion: and maintained that Glory was to be desired for itself, even as we embrace our Posthumes for themselves, having no Knowledge nor Enjoyment of them. This Opinion was more universally followed, as those commonly are that are most suitable to our Inclinations. Aristotle gives it the first place amongst eternal Goods: and avoids, as too extreme Vices, the immoderate either seeking or evading it. I believe that if we had the Books Cicero has writ upon this Subject, we should there find fine Stories, for he was so possessed with this Passion, that if he had dared, I think he could willingly have fallen into the excess that others did, that Virtue itself was not to be coveted, 
Cicero very ambitious of Glory.  but upon the account of the Honour that always attends it. 

Paulum sepultae distat inertiae 
Hor. l. 4. Ode. 9   
Celata virtus—   

Virtue, if concealed, doth  
Little differ from dead Sloth.   Which is an Opinion so false, that I am vexed it could ever enter into the Understanding of a man that was honoured with the name of a Philosopher. If this was true, Men should not be Virtuous but in public, and he should be no further concerned to keep the operation of the Soul, which is the true seat of Virtue, regular and in order, than as they are to arrive at the knowledge of others. Is there no more in it then but only slily, and with Circumspection to do ill? If thou knowest, says Carneades, of a Serpent lurking in a place, where without suspicion, a Person is going to sit down, by whose Death thou expectest an Advantage, thou dost ill, if thou dost not give him caution of his Danger; and so much the more because the Action is to be known by none but thyself. If we do not take up of ourselves a rule of well doing, if Impunity passes with us for Justice, to how many sorts of Wickedness shall we every day abandon ourselves? I do not find what Sp. Peduceus did, in faithfully restoring the Treasure that C. Plotius had committed to his sole Secrecy and Trust; (a thing that I have often done myself) so commendable, as I should think it an execrable baseness had we done otherwise. And think it of good use in our days to introduce the Example of P. Sextilius Ruffus, whom Cicero accuses to have entered upon an Inheritance contrary to his Conscience, not only not against Law, but even by the Determination of the Laws themselves. And M. Crassus, and Q. Hortensius, who, by reason of their Authority and Power, having been called in by a Stranger to share in the Succession of a forged Will, that so he might secure his own part; satisfied themselves with having no hand in the Forgery, and refused not to make their Advantage, and to come in for a share: secure enough if they could shroud themselves from Accusations, Witnesses, and the Cognizance of the Laws. Meminerint Deum se habere testem, 
Cicero de off. l. 3.  id est (ut ego arbitror) mentem suam. Let them consider they have God to witness, that is (as I interpret it) their own Consciences. Virtue is a very vain and frivolous thing, if it derives its recommendation from Glory. And 'tis to no purpose that we endeavour to give it a Station by itself, and separate it from Fortune; for what is more accidental than Reputation? Profecto Fortuna, in omni re dominatur: ea res cunctas ex libidine, 
Sallust.  magis quam ex vero celebrat, obscuratque. Fortune rules in all things, and does advance and depress things more out of her own Will, than Right and Justice. So to order it that Actions may be known and seen, is purely the work of Fortune; 'tis Chance that helps us to glory, according to its own temerity. I have often seen her go along with Merit, and often very much exceed it. He that first likened Glory to a shadow, did better than he was aware of. They are both of them things excellently vain. Glory also, like a shadow, goes sometimes before the Body, and sometimes in length infinitely exceeds it. They that instruct Gentlemen only to employ their Valour for the obtaining of Honour: Quasi non sit honestum, 
Cicero de off. l. 1.  quod nobilitatum non sit. As though it were not a Virtue unless ennobled. What do they intend by that, but to instruct them never to hazard themselves if they are not seen, and to observe well, if there be Witnesses present, who may carry News of their Valour; whereas a thousand Occasions of well doing present themselves, when we cannot be taken notice of? How many brave Actions are buried in the crowd of a Battle? Whoever shall take upon him to censure another's Behaviour in such a Confusion, is not very busy himself; and the Testimony he shall give of his Companions Deportments, will be Evidence against himself. Vera, & sapiens Animi magnitudo honestum illud quod maxime naturam sequitur, in factis positum, non in Gloria judicat. The true and wise magnanimity judges, that the bravery which most follows Nature, more consists in Act than Glory. All the Glory that I pretend to derive from my Life, is that I have lived it in quiet. In quiet, not according to Metrodorus, Archesilans, or Aristippus, but according to myself; for seeing Philosophy has not been able to find out any way to tranquillity that is good in common, let every one seek it in particular. To what do Caesar and Alexander owe the infinite grandeur of their Renown, but to Fortune? How many Men has she extinguished in the beginning of their Progress, of whom we have no Knowledge; who brought as much Courage to the Work as they, if their adverse hap had not cut them off in the first sally of their Arms? Amongst so many and so great Dangers, I do not remember I have any where read, that Caesar was ever wounded; a thousand have fallen in less Dangers, than the least of those he went through. A great many brave Actions must be expected to be performed without Witness, and so lost, before one turn to account. A man is not always on the top of a Breach, or at the head of an Army in the sight of his General, as upon a Scaffold. A man is oft surprised betwixt the Hedge and the Ditch, he must run the hazard of his Life against a Hen-roost, he must bolt four rascally Musketeers out of a Barn, he must prick out single from his Party, and alone make some Attempts, according as Necessity will have it. And whoever will observe, will, I believe, find it experimentally true, that Occasions of the least Lustre, are ever the most dangerous: and that in the Wars of our own Times there have more brave Men been lost in Occasions of little moment, and in the dispute about some little paltry Fort, than in Places of greater Importance, and where their Valours might have been more honourably employed. Who thinks his Death unworthy of him, if he do not fall in some signal Occasions; instead of illustrating his Death, does wilfully obscure his Life, suffering in the mean time many very just Occasions of hazarding himself to slip out of his Hands. And every just one is illustrious enough: every man's Conscience being a sufficient Trumpet to him. Gloria nostra est, Testimonium Conscientiae nostrae. 
Corin. 2. chap. 1. ver. 12.  For our rejoicing is this, the Testimony of our Conscience. Who is only a good Man that Men may know it, and that he may be the better esteemed when 'tis known; who will not do well, but upon Condition that his Virtue may be known to Men, is one from whom much Service is not to be expected.  


Orlando. Canto. 11.  Credo ch' el resto di quel verno, cose  
Facesse degne di tener ne conto,  
Ma fur fin à quel tempo si nascose,  
Che non è colpa mia s'hor' nor le conto,  
Porche Orlando a far' opre virtuose  
Piu ch'à narra le poi sempre era pronto,  
Ne mai fu alcun' de li suoi fatti espresso,  
Senon quando hebbei testimonii appresso.   

The rest o'th' Winter I presume was spent  
In Actions worthy of eternal Fame;  
Which at the end was so, in Darkness penned,  
That if I name them not, I'm not to blame,  
Orlando's noble Mind being more bend  
To do great Acts, than boast him of the same;  
So that no Deeds of his were ever known,  
But those that luckily had lookers on.   
A Man must go to the War upon the account of Duty, and expect the Recompense that never fails brave and worthy Actions, how private and concealed soever, not so much as Virtuous Thoughts; 'Tis the Satisfaction that a well disposed Conscience receives in itself, to do well. A Man must be valiant for himself, and upon the account of the Advantage it is to him, to have his Courage seated in a firm and secure place against the Assaults of Fortune.  

Virtus repulsae nescia sordidae,  
Intaminatis fulget honoribus.  
Nec sumit, aut ponit secures  
Arbitrio popularis aurae.   

Virtue, that ne'er Repulse admits, 
By Sir Tho▪ Hawkins,   
In taintless honours glorious sits,  
Nor takes, or leaveth Dignities  
Raised with the Noise of vulgar Cries.   
It is not for outward show that the Soul is to play its part, but for ourselves within, where no Eyes can pierce but our own; there she defends us from the fear of Death, of Pains, and Shame itself: she there arms us against the loss of our Children, Friends, and Fortunes: and when Opportunity presents itself, she leads us on to the Hazards of War. Non emolumento aliquo, 
Cicero▪  sed ipsius honestatis decore. Not for any Profit or Advantage, but for the Decency of Virtue. A much greater Advantage, and more worthy to be coveted and hoped for, than Honour and Glory; 
Honour what is it.  which is no other than the favourable Judgement is given of us. A dozen men must be called out of a whole Nation to judge of an Acre of Land, and the Judgement of our Inclinations and Actions, the hardest, and most important thing that is, we refer to the Voice, and determinations of the Rabble, the Mother of Ignorance, Injustice, and Inconstancy. Is it reasonable that the Life of a wise Man should depend upon the Judgement of Fools? An quidquam stultius, 
Elian. Varro.  quam quos singulos contemnas, eos aliquid putare esse universos? Can any thing be more foolish, than to think that those you despise single, can be any other when joined together? He that makes it his Business to please them, will have enough to do, and never have done; 'tis a Mark that never is to be reached or hit. Nil tam inestimabile est, quam animi multitudinis. Nothing is to be so little esteemed, as the Minds of the Multitude. Demetrius pleasantly said of the Voice of the People, that he made no more account of that which came from above, than of that which summed from below. 
Cic. de Fin.  Cicero says more, Ego hoc judico, si quando turpe non sit, tamen non esse non turpe, quum id à multitudine landatur. I am of Opinion, that though a thing be not foul in itself, yet it cannot but become so when commended by the Multitude. No Art, no activity of Wit could conduct our steps so as to follow so wand'ring and so irregular a Guide. In this windy Confusion of the Noise of vulgar Reports and Opinions that drive us on, no way worth any thing can be chosen. Let us not propose to ourselves so floating and wavering an end; let us follow constantly after Reason, let the public Approbation follow us there, if it will, and it wholly depending upon Fortune, we have no Reason sooner to expect it by any other way than that. Though I would not follow the right way because it is right, I should however follow it for having experimentally found, that at the end of the reckoning, 'tis commonly the most happy, and of greatest Utility. Dedit hoc providentia hominibus munus, ut honesta magis juvarent. This Gift Providence has given to men, that honest things should be the most delightful. The Mariner said thus to Neptune, O God, thou mayest save me if thou wilt, and if thou wilt thou mayest destroy me; but however I will steer my Rudder true. I have seen in my time a thousand Men of easy and ambiguous Natures, and that no one doubted but they were more worldly wise than I, throw themselves away, where I have saved one.  

Risi successus posse carere dolos. 
Ovid Epist. penult.    

I have laughed I must confess,  
To see cunning want Success.   
Paulus Aemylius, going in the glorious Expedition of Macedonia, above all things charged the People of Rome, not to speak of his Actions during his Absence. O, the Licence of Judgements is a great disturbance to great Affairs! Forasmuch as every one has not the Constancy of Fabius against common adverse and injurious ways: who rather suffered his Authority to be dissected by the vain Fancies of Men, than to go less in his Charge with a favourable Reputation and the popular Applause. There is, I know not what natural sweetness in hearing a man's self commended; but we are a great deal too fond of it.  

Laudari haud metuam, 
Perseus Sat. 1.  neque enim mihi cornea fibra est,  
Sed recti finemque extremumque esse recuso  
Euge tuum, & belle.—   

I love to be commended I confess,  
My Heart is not of Horn, but nevertheless  
I must deny the only end and aim  
Of doing well is to hear men exclaim,  
O worthy Man! O noble Act!   
I care not so much what I am in the Opinion of others, as what I am in my own. I would be rich of myself, and not by borrowing. Strangers see nothing but Events and outward Apparences; every body can set a good Face on the matter, when they have trembling and terror within. They do not see my Heart, they see but by my Countenance. 'Tis with good Reason that Men decry the Hypocrisy that is in War; for what is more easy to an old Soldier, than to shift in a time of Danger, and to counterfeit the brave, when he has no more Heart than a Chicken? There are so many ways to avoid hazarding a man's own Person, that we have deceived the World a thousand times, before we come to be engaged in a real Danger: and even then, finding ourselves in an inevitable necessity of doing something, we can make shift for that time to conceal our Apprehensions with setting a good Face on the Business, though the Heart beats within; and whoever had the use of the Platonic Ring, which renders those invisible that wear it, if turned inward towards the palm of the Hand; a great many would very often hide themselves when they ought most to appear; and would repent being placed in so honourable a post, where Necessity must make them brave.  

Falsus honor juvat, 
Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 16.  & mendax infamia terret  
Quem nisi mendosum, & mendacem?   

False Honour pleases, 
R. F.  and false Infamy  
Affrights, whom? those that love to hear a lie.   
Thus we see how all the Judgements that are founded upon external Apparences, are marvellously incertain and doubtful; and that there is no so certain Testimony as every one is to himself. In these other, how many Pedy's are made Companions of our Glory? He that stands firm in an open Trench, what does he in that do more than fifty poor Pioners, who open him the way, and cover it with their own Bodies for five pence a day pay, have done before him?  

— non quicquid turbida Roma 
Perseus Sat. 1.   
Elevet, accedas, examenque improbum in illa  
Castiges trutina, nec te quaesiveris extrà.   

Don't follow turbid Rome's blind senseless ways  
Of loading every thing is done with Praise;  
Of that false Balance trust not to the test,  
And out of thee make of thyself no quest.   
The dispersing and scattering our names into many Mouths, we call making them more great; we will have them there well received, and that this increase turn to their Advantage, which is all that can be excusable in this Design; but the excess of this Disease proceeds so far, that many covet to have a Name be it what it will. Trogus Pompeius says of Herostratus and Titus Livius of Manlius Capitolinus, that they were more ambitious of a great Reputation, than a good one. This Vice is very common. We are more solicitous that Men speak of us, than how they speak; and 'tis enough for us that our Names are often mentioned, be it after what manner it will. It should seem, that to be known, is in some sort to have a Man's Life and its duration in another's keeping. I for my part hold, that I am not but in myself, and of that other Life of mine which lies in the Knowledge of my Friends, to consider it naked and simply in itself, I know very well that I am sensible of no Fruit nor Enjoyment, but by the Vanity of a fantastic Opinion; and when I shall be dead, I shall be much less sensible of it; and shall withal absolutely lose the use of those real Advantages that sometimes accidentally follow it; I shall have no more handle whereby to take hold of Reputation; neither shall it have any whereby to take hold of, or to cleave to me. For, to expect that my Name should be advanced by it, in the first place, I have no Name that is enough my own; of two that I have, one is common to all my Race, and even to others also. There are two Families at Paris and Montpellier, whose surname is Montaigne; another in Britain, and another Montaigne in Xaintonge. The Transposition of one Syllable only is enough to ravel our Affairs, so that I shall peradventure share in their Glory, and they shall partake of my Shame; and moreover, my Ancestors have formerly been surnamed Eyquem, a Name wherein a Family well known in England, is at this day concerned. As to my other Name, every one may take it that will. And so perhaps I may honour a Porter in my own stead. And besides, though I had a particular Distinction by myself, what can it distinguish when I am no more? Can it point out, and favour Inanity? 

— nunc levior cippus non imprimit ossa, 
Ibidem.   
Laudat posteritas, nunc non è manibus illis,  
Nunc non è tumulo fortunataque favilla  
Nascuntur violae?—   

Will a less Tomb, composed of smaller Stones,  
Press with less weight upon the under Bones?  
Posterity may praise them, why, what tho?  
Can yet their Manes such a Gift bestow,  
As to make Violets from their Ashes grow?   But of this I have spoken elsewhere. As to what remains, in a great Battle where ten thousand Men are maimed or killed, there are not fifteen that are taken notice of. It must be some very eminent greatness, or some consequence of great Importance, that Fortune has added to it, that must signalise a private Action, not of a Harquebuser only, but of a great Captain; for to kill a man, or two, or ten, to expose a Man's self bravely to the utmost Peril of Death, is indeed something in every one of us, because we there hazard all; but for the Worlds concern, they are things so ordinary, and so many of them are every day seen, and there must of Necessity be so many of the same kind to produce any notable Effect, that we cannot expect any particular Renown.  


Juven. sat. 13. — casus multis hic cognitus, ac jam  
Tritus, & è medio fortunae ductus acervo.   

The action once was famed, but now worn old,  
With common acts of Fortune is enroled.   
Of so many thousands of valiant men that have died within these fifteen years in France, with their Swords in their hands, not a hundred have come to our knowledge. The memory, not of the Commanders only, but of Battles and Victories is buried and gone. The Fortunes of above half of the world, for want of a Record, stir not from their place, and vanish without duration. If I had unknown Events in my possession, I should think with great ease to outdo those that are recorded in all sorts of Examples. Is it not strange, that even of the Greeks and Romans, amongst so many Writers, and Witnesses, and so many rare and noble Exploits, so few are arrived at our knowledge? 


Aeneid. l. 7.  Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura.   

An obscure rumour scarce is hither come.   It will be much if a hundred years hence it be remembered in gross, that in our times there were Civil Wars in France. The Lacedæmonians entering into Battle, 
The Muses sacrificed unto by the Lacedæmonians, and why.  sacrificed to the Muses, to the end that their Actions might be well and worthily writ; looking upon it as a Divine, and no ordinary favour, that brave Acts should find Witnesses that could give them Life and Memory. Do we expect that at every Musket shot we receive, and at every hazard we run, there must be a Register ready to record them? and besides, a hundred Registers may enrol them, whose Commentaries will not last above three days, and they shall never come to the sight of any one. We have not the thousandth part of ancient Writings; 'tis fortune that gives them a shorter or longer Life according to her favour; and 'tis lawful to doubt whether those we have be not the worst, having not seen the rest. Men do not write Histories of things of so little moment: a man must have been General in the Conquest of an Empire, he must have won two and fifty set battles, and always the weaker in number, as Caesar did. Ten thousand brave Fellows, and several great Captains lost their lives bravely in his Service, whose Names lasted no longer than their Wives and Children lived: Quos fama obscura recondit. 
Aeneid. l. 5.  Even those we see behave themselves the best; three months, or three years after they have been knocked on the Head, they are no more spoken of than if they had never been. Whoever will justly consider, and with due proportion, of what kind of men, and of what sorts of actions Glory supports itself, in the Records of History will find, that there are very few Actions, and very few Persons of our times who can there pretend any right. How many worthy men have we seen survive their own Reputation, who have seen and suffered the Honour and Glory most justly acquired in their Youth, extinguished in in their own presence? And for three years of this fantastic and imaginary Life, we must go and throw away our true and essential Life, and engage ourselves in a perpetual Death? The Sages propose to themselves a nobler and more just end in so important an Enterprise. Rectè facti, 
Seneca.  fecisse merces est: officii fructus, ipsum officium est. The reward of a thing well done is to have done it: the fruit of a good Office, is the Office itself. It were peradventure excusable in a Painter, or any other Artisan, or yet in a Rhetorician, or a Grammarian, to endeavour to raise themselves a Name by their Works; but the actions of Virtue are too noble in themselves, to seek any other reward than from their own value, and especially to seek it in the vanity of Humane Judgements. If this false Opinion nevertheless be of that use to the Public, as to keep men in their duty; if the People are thereby stirred up to Virtue; if Princes are touched to see the world bless the memory of Trajan, and abominate that of Nero; if it moves them to see the name of that great Beast, once so terrible, and feared by every Schoolboy, so freely cursed and reviled, let it in the name of God increase, and be as much as possibly, nurssed up, cherished, and countenanced amongst us. And Plato, bending his whole Endeavour to make his Citizens Virtuous, does also advise them not to despise the good esteem of the People; and says, that it falls out by a certain Divine Inspiration, that even the wicked themselves ofttimes, as well by Word as Opinion, can rightly distinguish the Virtuous from the Wicked. This Person and his Tutor are both marvellous bold Artificers, every where to add Divine Operations and Revelations where humane force is wanting. And peradventure for this Reason it was, that Timon, railing at him, called him the great forger of Miracles. 
Cicero de Nat. Deor.  Vt trajici Poetae confugiunt ad Deum, cum explicare argumenti exitum non possunt. As tragic Poets fly to some God, when they cannot explain the issue of their Argument. Seeing that Men by their insufficiency cannot pay themselves well enough with current Money, let the counterfeit be superaded. 'Tis a way that has been practised by all the Legislators; and there is no Government that has not some mixture either of ceremonial Vanity, or of false Opinion, that serves for a curb to keep the People in their Duty. 'Tis for this that most of them have their fabulous Originals and Beginnings, and so enriched with supernatural Mysteries. 'Tis this that has given Credit to Bastard Religions, and caused them to be countenanced by men of Understanding; and for this that Numa and Sextorius, to possess their Men with a better Opinion of them, fed them with this Foppery; one, That the Nympth Egeria, the other, That his white Hind, brought them all their Resolutions from the Gods. And the Authority that Numa gave to his Laws under the Title of a Patronage of this Goddess; Zeroaster, Legislator of the Bactrians and Persians, gave to his under the name of Oromazis: Trismegistus Legislator of the Egyptians, under that of Mercury; Xamobxis Legislator of the Scythians, under that of Vesta: Charondas Legislator of the Chalcedonians, under that of Saturn: Minos Legislator of the Candiots, under that of Jupiter: Lycurgus Legislator of the Lacedæmonians, under that of Apollo: and Draco, and Solon, Legislators of the Athenians, under that of Minerva. And every Government has a God at the head of it; others falsely, that truly which Moses set over the Jews at their departure out of Egypt. The Religion of of the Bedoins, as the Sire de Joinville reports, amongst other things, enjoined a Belief, that the Soul of him amongst them who died for his Prince, went into another more happy Body, more beautiful, and more robust than the former; by which means they much more willingly ventured their Lives: 


Lucan. lib. 1.  In ferrum mens prona viris, animaeque capaces  
Mortis, & ignavum est rediturae parcere vitae.   

Men covet wounds, and strive Death to embrace,  
To save a Life, that's to return, is base.   This is a very comfortable, however an erroneous Belief. Every Nation has many such Examples of its own: but this Subject would require a Treatise by itself. To add one word more to my former Discourse, I would advise the Ladies no more to call that Honour, which is but their Duty, 
Cicero de fin. lib. 2.  Vt enim consuetudo loquitur, id solum dicitur honestum, quod est populari fama gloriosum: Accord to the vulgar Chat, which only approves that for laudable, that is glorious by the public Voice; their Duty is the mark, their Honour but the outward rind. Neither would I advise them to give that excuse for payment of their denial: for I presuppose that their Intentions, their Desire, and Will, which are things wherein their Honour is not at all concerned, forasmuch as nothing appears without, are much better regulated than the effects.  

Quae quia non liceat, non facit, illa facit. 
Ovid. Amo. l. 3. El. 4.    

She, who not sins, 'cause it unlawful is,  
In being therefore Chaste has done amiss.   
The Offence both towards God, and in the Conscience, would be as great to desire as to do it. And besides, they are Actions so private and secret of themselves, as would be easily enough kept from the Knowledge of others wherein the Honour Consists, if they had not another respect to their Duty, and the Affection they bear to Chastity for itself. Every Woman of Honour, will much rather choose to lose her Honour, than to hurt her Conscience.   

CHAP. XVII. Of Presumption.  
THere is another sort of Glory, which is the having too good an opinion of our own Worth. 'Tis an inconsiderate Affection, with which we flatter ourselves, and that represents us to ourselves other than we truly are. Like the passion of Love, that lends beauties and graces to the Person it does embrace; and that makes those who are caught with it, with a depraved and corrupt Judgement, consider the thing they love, other and more perfect than it is. I would not nevertheless for fear of failing on the other side, that a man should not know himself aright, or think himself less than he is, the Judgement ought in all things to keep itself upright and just: 'tis all the reason in the world he should discern in himself, as well as in others, what Truth sets before him; if it be Caesar, let him boldly think himself the greatest Captain in the world. We are nothing but Ceremony; Ceremony carries us away, and we leave the Substance of things: we hold by the Branches, and quit the Trunk. We have taught the Ladies to blush when they hear that but named, that they are not at all afraid to do: we dare not call our members by their right names, and are not afraid to employ them in all sorts of Debauches. Ceremony forbids us to express by words things that are lawful and natural, and we obey it: Reason forbids us to do things unlawful and ill, and no body obeys it. I find myself here fettered by the Laws of Ceremony; for it neither permits a man to speak well of himself, nor ill. We will leave her there for this time. They whom fortune (call it good or ill) has made to pass their Lives in some eminent degree, may by their public Actions manifest what they are: but they whom she has only employed in the crowd, and of whom no body will say a word unless they speak themselves, are to be excused if they take the boldness to speak of themselves to such whose Interest it is to know them; by the Example of Lucilius, 

Ille velut fidis arcana sodalibus olim 
Hor. lib. 2. Sat. 1.   
Credebat libris, neque si malè cesserat, usquam  
Decurrens alio, neque si benè: quo fit ut omnis▪  
Votiva pateat veluti descripta tabella  
Vita senis.—   

His way was in his Books to speak his mind 
Sir Richard Fenshaw.   
As freely, as his Secrets he would tell  
To a tried Friend, and took it ill, or well  
He held his Custom. Hence it came to pass  
The old man's Life is there as in a Glass.   He always committed to Paper his Actions and Thoughts, and there portrayed himself, such as he found himself to be. Nec id Rutilio, 
Tacitus.  & Scauro citra fidem, aut obtrectationi fuit. Nor were Rutilius or Scaurus misbelieved, or condemned for so doing. I remember then, that from my Infancy there was observed in me I know not what kind of Carriage and Behaviour, that seemed to relish of Pride and Arrogancy. I will say this by the way, that it is not inconvenient to have Propensions so proper and incorporated into us, that we have not the means to feel and be aware of them. And of such natural Inclinations the Body will retain a certain bent, without our Knowledge or Consent. It was an Affectation confederate with his Beauty, that made Alexander carry his Head on one side, and Alcibiades to lisp; Julius Caesar scratched his Head with one Finger, which is the fashion of a Man full of troublesome Thoughts: and Cicero, as I remember, was wont to tweak his Nose, a sign of a Man given to scoffing. Such Motions as these may imperceptibly happen in us: there are other artificial ones which I meddle not with; as Salutations and Congees, by which Men for the most part unjustly acquire the Reputation of being humble and courteous; or perhaps, humble out of Pride. I am prodigal enough of my Hat, especially in Summer, and never am so saluted, but I pay it again, from Persons of what quality soever, unless they be in my own dependence. I should make it my Request to some Princes that I know, that they would be more sparing of that Ceremony, and bestow that Courtesy where it is more due; for being so indiscreetly and indifferently conferred on all, they are thrown away to no purpose, if they be without respect of Persons, they lose their Effect. Amongst irregular Countenances, let us not forget that severe one of the Emperor Constantius, that always in public held his Head upright and steady, without bending or turning on either side, not so much as to look upon those who saluted him on one side, planting his Body in a stiff immovable posture, without suffering it to yield to the Motion of his Coach; not daring so much as to spit, blow his Nose, or wipe his Face before People. I know not whether the Gestures that were observed in me were of this first quality, and whether I had really any secret propension to this Vice, as it might well be; and I cannot be responsible for the Motions of the Body: but as to the Motions of the Soul, I must here confess that I am sensible of something of that kind there. 
Presumption divided into two parts.  This Glory consists of two parts, the one in setting too great a value upon ourselves, and the other in setting too little a value upon others. As to the one, methinks these Considerations ought in the first place to be of some force. I feel myself importuned by an Error of the Soul that displeases me, both as it is unjust, and as it is troublesome. I attempt to correct it, but I cannot root it out, which is, that I lessen the just value of things that I possess, and overvalue others, because they are foreign, absent, and none of mine. This Humour spreads very far. As the prerogative of the Authority which makes Husbands look upon their own Wives with a vicious disdain, and many Fathers their Children, so do I: and betwixt two equal Merits should always be swayed against my own. Not so much that the jealousy of my Preferment, and the bettering of my Affairs does trouble my Judgement, and hinders me from satisfying myself, as that Dominion of itself begets a Contempt of what is our own, and over which we have an absolute Command. Foreign Governments, Manners, and Languages, insinuate themselves into my esteem; and I am very sensible that Latin allures me by the Favour of its Dignity, to value it above its due, as it does Children, and the common sort of People. The Oeconomy, House, and Horse of my Neighbour, though no better than my own, I prise above my own, because they are not mine. Besides that, I am very ignorant in my own Affairs; I am astonished at the assurance that every one has of himself: whereas there is not almost any thing that I am sure I know, or that I dare be responsible to myself that I can do: I have not my means of doing any thing stated and ready, and am only instructed after the effect, as doubtful of my own force as I am of another's; whence it comes to pass, that if I happen to do any thing commendable, I attribute it more to my Fortune than Industry: forasmuch as I design every thing by chance, and in fear. I have this also in general, that of all the Opinions Antiquity has held of men in gross, I most willingly embrace, and most adhere to those that most contemn and undervalue us. Methinks Philosophy has never so fair a Game to play as when it falls upon our Vanity and Presumption; when it most lays open their Irresolution, Weakness, and Ignorance. I look upon the too good Opinion that Man has of himself to be the nursing Mother of all the most false, both public and private Opinions. Those People, who ride astride upon the Epicicle of Mercury, who see so far into the Heavens, are worse to me than a Tooth-drawer that comes to draw my Teeth: for in my Study, the Subject of which is Man, finding so great a variety of Judgements, so great a Labyrinth of Difficulties one upon another, so great diversity and incertainty, even in the School of Wisdom itself, you may judge, seeing those People could not resolve upon the knowledge of themselves, and their own condition, which is continually before their Eyes, and within them, seeing they do not know how that moves which they themselves move, nor how to give us a Description of the Springs they themselves govern and make use of; how can I believe them about the ebbing and flowing of Nile. The curiosity of knowing things, has been given to Man for a Scourge, says the holy Scripture. But to return to what concerns myself; I think it very hard, that any other should have a meaner Opinion of himself, nay, that any other should have a meaner Opinion of me than I have of myself. I look upon myself as one of the common sort, saving in this, that I have no better an Opinion of myself; guilty of the meanest and most popular defects, but not disowned or excused; and do not value myself upon any other account than because I know my own value. If there be any Glory in the case, 'tis superficially infused into me by the treachery of my Complexion, and has no Body that my Judgement can discern. I am sprinkled, but not tincted. For in Truth, as to the effects of the Mind, there is no part of me, be it what it will, with which I am satisfied: and the Approbation of others makes me not think the better of myself; my Judgement is tender and tickle, especially in things that concern myself; I feel myself float and waver by reason of my weakness. I have nothing of my own that satisfies my Judgement: my sight is clear and regular enough, but in opening it, it is apt to dazzle; as I most manifestly find in Poesy. I love it infinitely, and am able to give a tolerable Judgement of other men's Works: but in good earnest, when I apply myself to it, I play the Child, and am not able to endure myself. A Man may play the fool in every thing else, but not in Poetry.  


Horace de Arte Poet. — Mediocribus esse Poetis  
Non dii, non homines, non concessere columnae.   


Ben Johnson.  But neither Men, nor Gods, nor Pillars meant  
Poets should ever be indifferent.   
I would to God this Sentence was writ over the Doors of all our Printers, to forbid the entrance of so many Rhymers.  


Mart. l. 12. Epig. 64. — verum  
Nihil securius est malo Poeta.   

— but the truth is this—  
Nought more secure than a bad Poet is.   
Why have not we such People? Dyonysius the Father valued himself so much upon nothing as his Poetry. At the Olympic Games, with Chariots surpassing the others in Magnificence, he sent also Poets and Musicians to present his Verses, with Tents and Pavilions royally gilded and hung with Tapestry. When his Verses came to be recited, the excellency of the Pronunciation did at first attract the attention of the People; but when they afterwards came to poise the meanness of the Composition, they first entered into disdain, and continuing to nettle their Judgements, presently proceeded to Fury, and ran to pull down, and tear to pieces all his Pavilions: and in that his Chariots neither performed any thing to purpose in the course; and that the Ship which brought back his People failed of making Sicily, and was by the Tempest driven and wracked upon the Coast of Tarantum, they did certainly believe was through the Anger of the Gods, incensed, as they themselves were, against that paltry Poem; and even the Mariners who escaped from the wrack, seconded this Opinion of the People: to which also the Oracle that foretold his Death seemed to subscribe; which was, That Dionysius should be near his end, when he should have overcome those who were better than himself, which he interpreted of the Carthaginians, who surpassed him in Power; and having War with them, often declined the Victory, not to incur the Sense of this Prediction. But he understood it ill; for the God pointed at the time of the Advantage that by Favour and Injustice he obtained at Athens over the Tragic Poets, better than himself, having caused his own Play called the Leineicus to be acted in Emulation. Presently after which Victory he died, and partly of the excessive Joy he conceived at the Success. What I find tolerable of mine, 〈◊〉 not so really, and in itself: but in comparison of other worse things, that I see are well enough received. I envy the Happiness of those that can please and hug themselves, in what they do, for 'tis a very easy thing to be so pleased, because a Man extracts that pleasure from himself, especially if he be constant in his self-conceit. I know a Poet, against whom both the Intelligent in Poetry, and the Ignorant, abroad and at home, both Heaven and Earth, exclaim, that he understands very little in it; and yet for all that, he has never a whit the worse opinion of himself: but is always falling upon some new Piece, always contriving some new Invention, and still persists; by so much the more obstinate, as it only concerns him to stand up in his own Defence. My Works are so far from pleasing me, that as oft as I review them they disgust me: 


Ovid de Ponto, lib. 1. Eleg. 6.  Cum relego, scripsisse pudet, quia plurima cerno,  
Me quoque qui feci, judice digna lini.   

When I peruse, I blush at what I've Writ,  
Seeing 'tis only for the Fire fit.   I have always an Idea in my Soul, which presents me a better Form than that I have made use of; but I cannot catch it, nor fit it to my purpose; and yet even that Idea is but of the meaner sort, by which I conclude, that the productions of those great Souls of former times, as very much beyond the utmost stretch of my Imagination, or my wish: their Writings do not only satisfy and fill me, but they astonish me, and ravish me with Admiration. I judge of their Beauty, I see it, if not to the utmost, yet so far at least as 'tis possible for me to aspire. Whatever I undertake, I owe a Sacrifice to the Graces, as Plutarch says of some one, to make a return for their Favour. 

— si quid enim placet,  
Si quid dulce hominum sensibus influit,  
Debentur lepidis omnia gratiis.   

If any thing does please that I do write,  
Into men's Minds if it infuse delight,  
All's to the lovely Graces due.   They abandon me throughout: all I write is rude, polishing and Beauty are wanting: I cannot set things off to any advantage, my handling adds nothing to the Matter; for which Reason I must have it forcible, very full, and that has lustre of its own. If I pitch upon Subjects that are popular and gay, 'tis to follow my own Inclination, who do not affect a grave and ceremonious Wisdom, as the World does; and to make myself more sprightly, but not to make my stile more wanton, 
Montaigns' Style.  which would rather have them grave and severe, at least, if I may call an inform and irregular way of speaking, a vulgar jargon, and a proceeding without Definition, Division, and without Conclusion, perplexed like that of Amafanius and Raberius, a Style. I can neither please nor delight, much less ravish any one: the best Story in the World would be spoiled by my handling. I cannot speak but in earnest; and am totally unprovided of that Facility which I observe in many of my Acquaintance, of entertaining the first comers, and keeping a whole company in Breath, or taking up the care of a Prince with all sorts of Discourse, without being weary: they never wanting Matter, by reason of the Faculty and Grace they have in taking hold of the first thing is started, and accommodating it to the Humour and Capacity of those with whom they have to do. Princes do not much affect solid Discourses, nor I to tell Stories. The first and easiest Reasons, which are commonly the best taken, I know not how to employ. I am an ill Orator to the common sort. I am apt of every thing to say the utmost that I know. Cicero is of Opinion, that in Treatises of Philosophy the exordium is the hardest part: which, if it be true, I am wise in sticking to the Conclusion. And yet we are to know how to wind the string to all Notes, and the sharpest is that which is the most seldom touched. There is at least as much perfection in elevating an empty, as in supporting a weighty thing. A man must sometimes superficially handle things, and sometimes push them home. I know very well, that most Men keep themselves in this lower form, for not conceiving things otherwise than by this outward bark: but I likewise know, that the greatest Masters, and Xenophon and Plato are often seen to stoop to this low and popular manner of speaking and treating of things, and maintaining them with Graces, which are never wanting to them. As to the rest, my Language has nothing in it that is facile and fluent: 'tis rough, free, and irregular: and therefore best pleases not my Judgement, but Inclination. But I very well perceive, that I sometimes give myself too much rain, and that by force of endeavour to avoid Art and Affectation, I fall into the other Inconvenience.  

— brevis esse laboro, 
Hor. Ar. Poet.   
Obscurus fio.—   

I strive Prolixity t'evade,  
And by that means obscure am made.   
Plato says, that the long, nor the short are not Proprieties, that either take away, or give lustre to Language. Should I attempt to follow the other more moderate and united style, I should never attain unto it: and though the short round Periods of Sallust best suit with my Humour, yet I find Caesar much greater, and harder to imitate; and though my Inclination would rather prompt me to imitate Seneca's way of Writing, yet do I nevertheless more esteem that of Plutarch. Both in silence and speaking I simply follow my own natural way; from whence peradventure it falls out, that I am better at speaking than writing. Motion and Action animate Words, especially in those who lay about them briskly, as I do, and grow hot. 〈◊〉 Comportment, the Countenance, the Voice, the 〈◊〉 and the Tribunal, will set off some things, 〈◊〉 of themselves, and so considered, would appe●● no better than prating. Messalla complains 〈◊〉 Tacitus of the straightness of some Garment in his time, and of the fashion of the Pew● where the Orators were to declaim, that wen● a disadvantage to their Eloquence. My French Tongue is corrupted both in the Pronunciation and elsewhere, by the Barbarism of my Country. I never saw a Man who was a Native of any of the Provinces on this side, of the Kingdom, who had not a twang of his place of Birth, and that was not offensive to Ears that were purely French. And yet it is not that I am so perfect in my Perigourdin: for I can no more speak it than high Dutch, nor do I much care. 'Tis a Language, as the rest about me on every side, of Poitou, Xaintonge, Angoulesme, Limosin, and Auvergne, are a scurvy, drawling, dirty Language. There is indeed above us towards the Mountains a sort of Gascon spoke, that I am mightily taken with, blunt, brief, significant, and in truth a more Manly and Military Language than any other I am acquainted with; as sinewy, insinuating, and pertinent, as French is graceful, neat, and luxuriant. As to the Latin, which was given me for my Mother Tongue, I have by discontinuance lost the use of speaking it, and indeed of writing it too, wherein I formerly had a particular Reputation; by which you may see how inconsiderable I am on that side. Beauty is a thing of great recommendation in the correspondency amongst men; 'tis the principal means of ●●quiring the favour and good liking of one another, and no man is so barbarous and morose, that does not perceive himself in some sort struck with its Attraction. The Body has a great share 〈◊〉 our Being, has an eminent place there, and therefore it's Structure and Symmetry are of very just consideration. They who go about to disunite, and separate our two principal parts from one another are to blame: we must on the contrary reunite and rejoin them. We must command the Soul, not to withdraw to entertain itself apart, not to despise and abandon the Body, (neither can she do it, but by some ridiculous counterfeit) but to unite herself close to it, to embrace, cherish, assist, govern, and advise it, and to bring it back, and set it into the true way when it wanders; in sum, to espouse, and be a Husband to it; forasmuch as their effects do not appear to be divers and contrary, but uniform and concurring. Christians have a particular instruction concerning this Connexion, for they know that the Divine Justice embraces this Society, and juncture of Body and Soul, even to the making the Body capable of eternal Rewards; and that God has an Eye to every man's ways, and will that he receive entire, the chastisement or reward of his Demerits. The Sect of the Peripatetics, of all others the most Sociable, does attribute to Wisdom this sole care, equally to provide for the good of these two associate Parts: and the other 〈◊〉 in not sufficiently applying themselves to 〈◊〉 Consideration of this mixture, show themselves to be divided, one for the Body, and the other for the Soul, with equal Error: and to have 〈◊〉 their Subject, which is Man, and their Guide which they generally confess to be Nature. Th● first distinction that ever was amongst men, and the first Consideration that gave some Pre-eminence over others, 'tis likely was the Advantage of Beauty.  


Lucret. l. 5. — agros divisere, atque dedere  
Pro facie cujusque, & viribus, ingenioque:  
Nam facies multum valuit, viresque vigebant.   

Then cattle too was shared, and steady bounds  

Mr. Creech.  Marked out to every man his proper Grounds;  
Each had his proper share, each what was fit,  
According to his Beauty, Strength, or Wit;  
For Beauty then, and Strength had most Command,  
Those had the greatest share in Beasts and Land.   
Now I am of something lower than the middle stature, a Defect that not only borders upon Deformity, but carries withal a great deal of Inconvenience along with it, especially those who are in command; for the Authority which a graceful Presence, and a majestic mien beget, is wanting. C. Marius did not willingly list any Soldiers that were not six foot high. The Courtier has indeed reason to desire a moderate Stature in the Person he is to make, rather than any other; and to reject all strangeness that should make him be pointed at. But in choosing, he must have a care in this Mediocrity, to have him rather below, than above the common standard: I would not do so in a Soldier. Little men, says Aristotle, are pretty, but not handsome: and greatness of Soul is discovered in a great Body, as Beauty is in a conspicuous stature. The Ethiopians and Indians, says he, in choosing their Kings and Magistrates, had a special regard to the Beauty and Stature of their Persons. They had Reason: for it creates respect in those that follow them, and is a Terror to the Enemy, to see a Leader of a brave and goodly Stature march in the Head of a Battalion.  

Ipse inter primos praestanti corpore Turnus 
Virgil. Aeneid. l. 7.   
Vertitur, arma tenens, & toto vertice supra est.   

The graceful Turnus, tallest by the Head,  
Shaking his Arms, himself the Van up lead.   
Our holy and heavenly King, of whom every Circumstance is most carefully, and with the greatest Religion and Reverence to be observed, has not himself refused bodily Recommendation, Speciosus forma prae filiis hominum. He is fairer than the Children of Men. And Plato, 
Psal. 4.8.  together with Temperance and Fortitude, requires Beauty in the Conservators of his Republic. It would vex you that a man should apply himself to you amongst your Servants to inquire where Monsieur is, and that you should only have the remainder of the Compliment of the Hat that is made to your Barber, or your Secretary: as it happened to poor Philopaemen, who, arriving the first of all his Company at an Inn where he was expected, the Hostess, who knew him not, and saw him an unsightly Fellow, employed him to go help her Maids a little to draw Water, or make a Fire against Philopaemen's coming: the Gentlemen of his Train arriving presently after, and surprised to see him busy in this fine Employment (for he failed not of obeying his Landladies Command) asked him what he was doing there, I am, said he, paying the Penalty of my ugliness. The other Beauties belong to Women, the Beauty of Stature is the only Beauty of Men. Where there is a contemptible Stature, neither the largeness and roundness of the Forehead, nor the whiteness and sweetness of the Eyes, nor the moderate proportion of the Nose, nor the littleness of the Ears and Mouth, nor the evenness and whiteness of the Teeth, nor the thickness of a well-set brown Beard shining like the Husk of a Chestnut, nor curled Hair, nor the just proportion of the Head, nor a fresh Complexion, nor a pleasing Air of a Face, nor a Body without any offensive scent, nor the just proportion of Limbs, 
The Author's Stature.  can make a handsome Man. I am, as to the rest, strong, and well knit, my Face is not puffed, but full, and my Complexion betwixt jovial and melancholic, moderately sanguine and hot. 

Vnde rigent setis mihi crura, & pectora villis. 
Mart.    

Whence 'tis my Thighs so rough and bristled are,  
And that my Breast is so thick set with Hair.   my Health vigorous and sprightly, even to a well advanced age, and rarely troubled with Sickness. Such I was, for I do not now make any reckoning of myself, now I say, that I am engaged in the Avenues of Age, being already past forty, 

— minutatem vires, 
Lucret. l. 2.  & robur adultum  
Frangit, & in partem pejorem liquitur aetas.   

Thence by degrees our Strength melts all away. 
Mr. Creech.   
And treacherous age creeps on, and things decay.   What shall be from this time forward, will be but a half Being, and no more me; I every day escape and steal away from myself: 

Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes. 
Hor. lib. 2. Epist. 2.    

I find I'm growing old, 
J. D.  and every year  
Steals something from me—   Agility and address I never had; and yet am the Son of a very active and sprightly Father, and that continued to be so to an extreme old age. I have seldom known any man of his Condition, his equal in all bodily Exercises: as I have seldom met with any who have not excelled me, except in running, at which I was pretty good. In Music or sing, for which I have a very unfit Voice, or to play on any sort of Instrument, they could never teach me any thing. In Dancing, Tennis, or Wrestling, I could never arrive to more than an ordinary pitch; in Swimming, Fencing, Vaulting, and Leaping, to none at all. My Hands are so clumsy, that I cannot so much as write so as to read it myself, so that I had rather do what I have scribbled over again, than to take upon me the trouble to correct it, and do not read much better than I write. I cannot handsomely fold up a Letter, nor could ever make a Pen, or carve at Table worth a Pin, nor saddle a Horse, nor carry a Hawk and fly her, nor hunt the Dogs, nor lure a Hawk, nor speak to a Horse. In fine, my bodily Qualities are very well suited to those of my Soul, there is nothing sprightly, only a full and firm Vigour. I am patient enough of Labour and Pains, but it is only when I go voluntary to the Work, and only so long as my own desire prompts me to it.  


Id. lib. 2. Sat. 2.  Molliter austerum studio fallente laborem.   

Whilst the Delight makes you ne'er mind the Pain. 
Alexander Brome.    
Otherwise, if I am not allured with some pleasure, or have other guide than my own pure and free Inclination, I am there good for nothing: for I am of an Humour, that Life and Health excepted, there is nothing for which I will bite my Nails, and that I will purchase at the price of the Torment of Mind and constraint; 

— tanti mihi non sit opaci  
Omnes arena Tagi, 
Juven▪ Sat. 3.  quodque in Mare volvitur Aurum.   

Rich Tagus Sands so dear I would not buy,  
Nor all the Gold that in the Sea doth lie.   extremely idle, and extremely given up to my own Inclination both by Nature and Art. I would as willingly lend a Man my Blood, as my Pains. I have a Soul free and entirely its own, and accustomed to guide itself after its own fashion; having hitherto never had either Master or Governor imposed upon me. I have walked as far as I would, and the pace that best pleased myself. This is it that has rendered me unfit for the Service of others, and has made me of no use to any one but myself; and for that there was no need of forcing my heavy and lazy Disposition; for being born to such a Fortune, as I had Reason to be contented with, (a Reason nevertheless that a thousand others of my Acquaintance would have rather made use of for a plank upon which to pass over to a higher Fortune, to tumult and disquiet) I sought for no more, and also got no more: 

Non agimur tumidi ventis Aquilone secundo, 
Horace. l. 2. Epist. 2.   
Non tamen adversis aetatem ducimus austris,  
Viribus, ingenio, specie, virtute, loco, re,  
Extremi priorum, extremis usque priores.   


J. D.  I neither am oppressed  
With storms, nor flat at all with calms; my Sails  
Are filled with equal, and indifferent gales;  
For Health, Wit, Virtue, Honour, Wealth, I'm placed  
Short of the foremost, but before the last.   I had only need of what was sufficient to content me: which nevertheless is a Government of Soul, to take it right, equally difficult in all sorts of Conditions, and that by Custom, we see more easily found in want than abundance: forasmuch, peradventure, as according to the course of others Passions, the desire of Riches is more sharpened by the use we make of them, than by the need we have of them: and the virtue of Moderation more rare than that of Patience. And never had any thing to desire, but happily to enjoy the Estate that God by his Bounty had put into my Hands: I have never known any thing of Trouble, and have had little to do in any thing but the management of my own Affairs: or, if I have, it has been upon Condition to do them at my own leisure, and after my own Method, committed to my trust by such as had a confidence in me, that did not importune me, and that knew my Humour. For good Horsemen will make shift to get service out of a rusty and broken wound Jade. Even my Infancy was trained up after a gentle and free manner, and even then exempt from any rigorous Subjection: all which have helped me to a Complexion delicate and incapable of Solicitude, even to that degree, that I love to have my Losses, and the Disorders wherein I am concerned, concealed from me; so that in the account of my Expenses, I put down what my Negligence costs me in feeding and maintaining myself. 

— hae nempe supersunt, 
Hor. l. 1. Epist. 6.   
Quae dominum fallunt, quae prosint furibus.   

The House is much unfurnished where there are 
Alexander Brome.   
Not many things superfluous, and to spare;  
Goods which the Owner knows not of, but may  
Be unconcerned when they are stole away.   I do not love to know what I have, that I may be less sensible of my Loss. I entreat those that serve me, where Affection and Integrity are wanting, to deceive me with something that may look tolerably handsome. For want of Constancy enough to support the shock of the adverse Accidents, to which we are subject, and of patience seriously to apply myself to the management of my Affairs; I nourish as much as I can this in myself, wholly leaving all to Fortune; to take all things at the worst, and to resolve to bear that worst with Temper and Patience. That is the only thing I aim at, and to which I apply my whole Meditation. In a Danger, I do not so much consider how I shall escape it, as of how little importance it is whether I escape it or no: should I be left dead upon the place, what matter? Not being able to govern Events, I govern myself, and apply myself to them, if they will not apply themselves to me. I have no great art to evade, escape from, or to force Fortune, and by Prudence to guide and incline things to my own Bias. I have the least Patience of all to undergo the troublesome and painful Care therein required; and the most uneasy condition for me is to be suspended in urgent Occasions, and to be agitated betwixt Hope and Fear. Deliberation, even in things of lightest moment, is very troublesome to me; and I find my Mind more put to it to undergo the various tumbling and tossing of Doubt and Consultation, than to set up its rest, and to acquiesce in what ever shall happen after the Die is thrown. Few Passions break my sleep, but of deliberations, the least will do it. As in Ways, I willingly avoid those that are sloping and slippery, and put myself into the beaten tract how dirty or deep soever, where I can fall no lower, and there seek my safety: so I love Misfortunes that are purely so, that do not torment and tease me with the incertainty of their growing better; but that at the first push plunge me directly into the worst can be expected. 


Seneca. Agamemnon.  dubia plus torquent mala.   

Doubtful ills do plague us worst.   In Events, I carry myself like a Man, in the Conduct, like a Child. The fear of the Fall more astonishes me than the Fall itself. It will not quit cost. The covetous Man has a worse account of his Passion than the poor, and the jealous Man than the Cuckold; and a man ofttimes loses more by defending his Vine-yard than if he gave it up. The lowest walk is the safest; 'tis the Seat of Constancy: you have there need of no one but yourself, 'tis there founded, and wholly stands upon its own Basis. Has not this Example of a Gentleman very well known some air of Philosophy in it? He married, being well advanced in years, having spent his Youth in Good-fellowship, a great Talker and a great Jeerer; calling to mind how much the subject of Cuckoldry had given him occasion to talk and scoff at others, to prevent them from paying him in his own coin, he married a Wife from a Place where any may have flesh for his money: Good morrow Whore, Good morrow Cuckold; and there was not any thing wherewith he more commonly and openly entertained those that came to see him than with this design of his, by which he stopped the private muttering of Mockers, and defended himself from this Reproach. As to Ambition, which is Neighbour, or rather Daughter to Presumption, Fortune, to advance me, must have come and taken me by the hand; for to trouble myself for an uncertain Hope, and to have submitted myself to all the Difficulties that accompany those who endeavour to bring themselves into Credit in the beginning of their progress, I could never have done it.  


Terence. — spem pretio non emo.   

I will not purchase Hope with Money.   
I apply myself to what I see, and to what I have in my Hand, and go not very far from the Shoar: 


Prop. l. 1. Eleg. 2.  Alter remus aquas, alter tibi radat arenas.   

Into the Sea I plung one Oar,  
And with the other rake the Shoar.   and besides, a Man rarely arrives to these Advancements, but in first hazarding what he has of his own: and I am of Opinion, that if a Man have sufficient to maintain him in the Condition wherein he was born and brought up, 'tis a great folly to hazard that upon the incertainty of augmenting it. He to whom Fortune has denied whereon to set his Foot, and to settle a quiet and composed way of living, is to be excused if he does venture what he has, because, happen what will, Necessity puts him upon shifting for himself. 


Seneca. Agara.  Capienda rebus in malis praeceps via est.   

A desperate case must have a desperate course.   And I rather excuse a younger Brother to expose what his Friends have left him to the Courtesy of fortune, than him with whom the Honour of his Family is entrusted, that cannot be necessitous, but by his own Fault. I have found a much shorter and more easy way, by the Advice of the good Friends I had in my younger days, to free myself from any such Ambition, and to sit still. 

Cui sit conditio dulcis, sine pulvere palmae. 
Horace. l. 1. Epist. 1.    

Whose Sword hath won him Honour in true Fights, 
Sir Richard Fenshaw.   
Dusty Olympic Laurels that Man slights.   Judging rightly enough of my own Forces, that they were not capable of any great Matters; and calling to mind the saying of the late Chancellor Oliver, that the French were like Monkeys, that swarm up a Tree from Branch to Branch, and never stop till they come to the highest; and there show their ugly bald Breech. 

Turpe est quod nequeas capiti committere pondus, 
Prope●   
Et pressum inflexo mox dare terga genu.   

It is a shame to load the Shoulders so,  
That they the Burden cannot undergo;  
And the Knees bending with the weight, to quit  
The ponderous load, and turn the Back to it.   I should find the best Qualities I have useless in this Age. The Facility of my Manners would have been called Weakness and Negligence, my Faith and Conscience, if such I have, Scrupulosity and Superstition; my Liberty and Freedom would have been reputed troublesome, inconsiderate and rash. Ill luck is good for something. 
Proverb.  It is good to be born in a very depraved Age; for so in comparison of others, you shall be reputed virtuous good cheap. He that in our days is but a Parricide, and a sacrilegious Person, is an honest Man, and a Man of Honour. 


Juven. sat. 13.  Nunc si depositum non inficiatur amicus,  
Si reddat veterem cum tota aerugine follem,  
Prodigiosa fides, & Thuscis digna libellis,  
Quaeque coronata lustrari debeat agna.   

Now if a Friend does not deny his Trust,  
But does th'old Purse restore with all its rust;  
'Tis a prodigious Faith, that aught in Gold  
Amongst the Tuscan Annals be enroled,  
And a crowned Lamb should sacrificed be  
To such an exemplary Integrity.   And never was time or place wherein Princes might propose to themselves more certain Rewards for their Virtue and Justice. The first that shall make it his business to get himself into favour and esteem by those ways, I am much deceived if he do not, and by the best Title outstrip his Concurrents. Force and Violence can do something, but not always all: We see Merchants, Country Justices, and Artisans, go cheek by joul with the best Gentry in Valour and Military Knowledge. They perform honourable Actions both in public Engagements and private Quarrels, they fight Duels, and defend Towns in our present Wars. A Prince stifles his Renown in this crowd. Let him shine bright in Humanity, Truth, Loyalty, Temperance, and especially in Justice; marks rare, unknown, and exiled; 'tis by no other means but by the sole goodwill of the People that he can do his business, and no other Qualities can attract their goodwill like those, as being of greatest Utility to them. Nil est tam populare quam bonitas. 
Cicero.  Nothing is so popular as goodness. By this proportion I had been great and rare, as I find myself now a Pigmy, and popular by the proportion of some past Ages; wherein, if other better Qualities did not concur, it was ordinary and common to see a Man moderate in his Revenges, gentle in resenting Injuries, in absence religious of his Word, neither double nor too supple, nor accommodating his Faith to the will of others, or the turns of Times: I would rather see all Affairs go to wrack and ruin than falsify my Faith to secure them. For as to this Virtue of Dissimulation, which is now in so great request, I mortally hate it; and of all Vices, find none that does evidence so much baseness and meanness of Spirit. 'Tis a cowardly and servile Humour to hide and disguise a man's self under a Vizor, and not to dare to show himself what he is. By that our followers are trained up to Treachery. Being brought up to speak what is not true, they make no Conscience of a Lye. A generous Heart ought not to belie its own Thoughts, but will make itself seen within, all there is good, or at least manly: Aristotle reputes it the Office of Magnanimity, openly and professedly to love and hate, to judge and speak with all freedom; and not to value the approbation or dislike of others in comparison of Truth: Apollonius said, it was for Slaves to lie, and for Freemen to speak truth. 'Tis the chief and fundamental part of Virtue, we must love it for itself. He that speaks truth, because he is obliged so to do, and because he serves; and that is not afraid to lie when it signifies nothing to any body, is not sufficiently true. 
Lying condemned.  My Soul naturally abominates Lying, and hates the thought of it. I have an inward bashfulness, and a sharp remorse, if sometimes a Lie escape me, as sometimes it does, being surprised by Occasions that allow me no Premeditation. A Man must not always tell all, for that were folly: but what a man says should be what he thinks, otherwise 'tis knavery. I do not know what advantage men pretend to by eternally counterfeiting and dissembling, if not, never to be believed when they speak the truth. This may once or twice pass upon men; but to profess concealing their Thoughts, and to brag, as some of our Princes have done, that they would burn their Shirts if they knew their true Intentions; which was a saying of the Ancient Metellus of Macedon; and, that who knows not how to dissemble, knows not how to Rule: is to give warning to all who have any thing to do with them, that all they say is nothing but Lying and Deceit. 
Cicero. de off. l. 1.  Quo quis versutior, & callidior est, hoc invisior & suspectior, detracta opinione probitatis. By how much any one is more subtle and cunning, by so much is he hated and suspected, the Opinion of his Integrity being lost and gone. It were a great simplicity in any one to lay any stress either on the Countenance or word of a man, that has passed on a Resolution to be always another thing without than he is within, as Tiberius did; and I cannot conceive what Interest such can have in the Conversation with men, seeing they produce nothing that is current and true. Whoever is disloyal to Truth, is the same to Falsehood also. Those of our time, who have considered in the establishment of the duty of a Prince, the good of his Affairs only, and have preferred that to the care of his Faith and Conscience; might say something to a Prince whose Affairs Fortune had put into such a posture, that he might for ever Establish them by only once breaking his Word: but it will not go so, they often buy in the same Market, they make more than once Peace, and enter into more than one Treaty in their lives. Gain tempts them to the first breach of Faith, and almost always presents itself, as in all other ill Acts, Sacrileges, Murders, Rebellions, Treasons, as always undertaken for some kind of Advantage. But this first Gain has infinite mischievous Consequences; throws this Prince out of all Correspondence and Negotiation, by this Example of Infidelity. Soliman, of the Ottoman Race, a Race not very solicitous of keeping their Words or Articles, when in my Infancy he made his Army land at Otranto, being informed that Mercurino de Gratinare, and the Inhabitants of Castro were detained Prisoners, after having surrendered the Place, contrary to the Articles of their Capitulation, sent order to have them set at Liberty, saying, That having other great Erterprises in hand in those Parts, the disloyalty, though it carried a show of present Utility, would for the future bring on him a disrepute and diffidence of infinite prejudice. Now, for my part, I had rather be troublesome and indiscreet, than a Flatterer and a Dissembler. I confess that there may be some mixture of Pride and Obstinacy in keeping myself so upright and open as I do without any Consideration of others; and methinks I am a little too free, where I ought least to be so, and that I grow hot by the opposition of Respect; and it may be also, that I suffer myself to follow the Propension of my own Nature for want of Art; using the same liberty of Speech and Countenance towards great Persons, that I bring with me from my own House: I am sensible how much it declines towards Incivility and Indiscretion: but besides that, I am so bred, I have not a Wit supple enough to evade a sudden Question, and to escape by some Evasion, nor to feign a Truth, nor Memory enough to retain it so feigned; nor truly assurance enough to maintain it, and play the brave out of Weakness. And therefore it is that I abandon myself to Candour, always to speak as I think, both by Complexion and Design, leaving the event to Fortune. Aristippus was wont to say, that the principal benefit he had extracted from Philosophy was, that he spoke freely and openly to all. 
Memory very useful to the Judgement.  Memory is a faculty of wonderful use, and without which the Judgement can very hardly perform its Office: for my part I have none at all. What any one will propose to me, he must do it by parcels, for to answer a speech consisting of several heads, I am not able. I could not receive a Commission by word of mouth, without a Notebook: and when I have a Speech of Consequence to make, if it be long, I am reduced to the miserable Necessity of getting it Word for Word what I am to say by Heart; I should otherwise have neither fashion nor assurance, being in fear that my Memory would play me a slippery trick. But this way is no less difficult to me than the other. I must have three hours to learn three Verses. And besides, in a Work of a man's own, the Liberty and Authority of altering the Order, of changing a Word, incessantly varying the matter, makes it harder to stick in the Memory of the Author. The more I mistrust it, the worse it is, it serves me best by chance, I must negligently solicit it, for if I press it, 'tis astonished, and after it once begins to stagger, the more I sound it, the more it is perplexed; it serves me at its own hour, not at mine. And the same defect I find in my Memory, I find also in several other Parts. I fly command, obligation, and constraint. That which I can otherwise naturally and easily do; if I impose it upon myself by an express and strict Injunction, I cannot do it. Even the members of my Body, over which a man has a more particular jurisdiction, sometimes refuse to obey me, if I enjoin them a necessary service at a certain hour. This tyrannical and compulsive Appointment baffles them, they shrink up either through fear or spite, and fall into a Trance. Being once in a Place where it is looked upon as the greatest discourtesy imaginable not to pledge those who drink to you, though I had there all liberty allowed me, I tried to play the good Fellow, out of respect to the Ladies that were there, according to the Custom of the Country; But there was sport enough, for this Threatening and Preparation, that I was to force myself contrary to my Custom and Inclination, did so stop my Throat, that I could not swallow one drop, and was deprived of drinking so much as to my Meat. I found myself gorged, and my Thirst quenched by so much Drink as my Imagination had swallowed. This Effect is most manifest in such as have the most vehement and powerful Imagination: but it is natural notwithstanding, and there is no one that does not in some measure find it. They offered an excellent Archer, condemned to die, to save his Life, if he would show some notable proof of his Art; but he refused to try, fearing lest the too great Contention of his Will should make him shoot wide, and that instead of saving his Life, he should also lose the Reputation he had got of being a good Marksman. A Man that thinks of something else, will not fail to take over and over again the same number and measure of steps, even to an inch, in the place where he walks: but if he makes it his Business to measure and count them, he will find that what he did by Nature and Accident, he cannot so exactly do by Design. My Library, which is of the best sort of Country Libraries, is situated in a corner of my House, if any thing comes into my Head that I have a Mind to look on or to write; lest I should forget it in but going cross the Court, I am fain to commit it to the Memory of some other. If I venture in speaking to digress never so little from my Subject, I am infallibly lost, which is the reason that I keep myself in Discourse strictly close. I am forced to call the Men that serve me either by the Names of their Offices, or their Country; for Names are very hard for me to remember. I can tell indeed that there are three Syllables, that it has a harsh sound, and that it begins or ends with such a Letter, but that's all: and if I should live long, 
Memory quite lost.  I do not think but I should forget my own Name, as some others have done. Messala Corvinus, was two years without any trace of Memory, which is also said of Georgius Trapezuntius. For my own interest, I often meditate what a kind of Life theirs was, and if, without this Faculty, I should have enough left to support me with any manner of ease, and prying narrowly into it, I fear that this Privation, if absolute, destroys all the other functions of the Soul.  

Plenus rimarum sum, hac atque illac perfluo. 
Ter. Eunu. act. 1. sc. 2.    

I'm full of chinks, and lead out every way.   
It has befallen me more than once to forget the Word I had three hours before given or received, and to forget where I had hid my Purse, whatever Cicero is pleased to say: I help myself to lose what I have a particular care to lock safe up. Memoria certè non modo Philosophiam, 
Cicero.  sed omnis vitae usum, omnesque arts, unà maximè continet. The Memory is the receptacle and sheath of all Science; and therefore mine being so treacherous, if I know little, I cannot much complain; I know in general the Names of the Arts, and of what they treat, but nothing more. I turn over Books, I do not study them; what I retain I do not know to be another's, and is only what my Judgement has made its advantage of; the Discourses and Imaginations in which it has been instructed. 
The Author's Memory.  The Author, Place, Words, and other Circumstances, I immediately forget, and am so excellent at forgetting, that I no less forget my own Writings and Compositions than the rest. I am very often quoted to myself, and am not aware of it; and whoever should inquire of me where I had the Verses and Examples that I have here huddled together, would puzzle me to tell him, and yet I have not borrowed them but from famous and known Authors, not satisfying myself that they were rich; if I moreover had them not from rich and honourable Hands, where there is a concurrence of Authority as well as Reason. It is no great wonder if my Book run the same fortune that other Books do, and if my Memory lose what I have writ as well as what I have read, and what I give, as well as what I receive. Beside the defect of Memory, I have others which very much contribute to my ignorance; 
His Apprehension.  I have a slow and heavy Wit, the least cloud stops its progress, so that, for Example, I never proposed to it any never so easy a Riddle that it could find out. There is not the least idle subtlety, that will not gravel me. In Games, where Wit is required, as Chess, Draughts, and the like, I understand no more but the motions of the men, without being capable of any thing of design. I have a slow and perplexed Apprehension, but what it once apprehends, it apprehends well, for the time it retains it. My Sight is perfect, entire, 
His Sight.  and discovers at a very great Distance, but is soon weary, which makes me that I cannot read long, but am forced to have one to read to me. The younger Pliny can inform such as have not experimented it themselves, what, and how important an Impediment this is to those who addict themselves to study. There is no so wretched and illiterate a Soul, wherein some particular Faculty is not seen to shine; no Soul so buried in sloth and ignorance but it will sally at one end or another. And how it comes to pass that a Man blind and asleep to every thing else, shall be found sprightly, clear, and excellent in some one particular Effect, we are to inquire of our Masters: but the beautiful Souls are they that are Universal, Open, and Ready for all things, if not instructed, at least capable of being so. Which I say to accuse my own; for whether it be through Infirmity or Negligence, (and to neglect that which lies at our feet, which we have in our hands, and what nearest concerns the use of Life, is far from my Doctrine) there is not a Soul in the World so awkward as mine, and so ignorant of several vulgar things, and such as a man cannot without shame be ignorant of. I must give some Examples: I was born and bred up in the Country, and amongst Husbandmen; I have had Business and Husbandry in my own Hands ever since my Predecessors, who were Lords of the Estate I now enjoy, left me to succeed them: and yet I can neither cast account, nor reckon my Counters: most of our current Money I do not know, nor the difference betwixt one Grain and another, either growing or in the Barn, if it be not too apparent; and scarcely can distinguish the Cabbage and Lettuce in my Garden. I do not so much as understand the Names of the chief Instruments of Husbandry, nor the most ordinary Elements of Agriculture, which the very Children know; much less the mechanic Arts, Traffic, Merchandise, the variety and Nature of Fruits, Wines and Vines: nor how to make a Hawk fly, nor to physic a Horse, or a Dog. And, since I must publish my whole shame, 'tis not above a Month ago, that I was trapped in my ignorance of the use of leaven to make Bread, or to what end it was to keep Wine in the Vat. They conjectured of old at Athens, an aptitude to the Mathematics in him they saw ingeniously bavin up a Burden of Brush-wood. In earnest, they would draw a quite contrary Conclusion from me, for give me the whole Provision and Necessaries of a Kitchen, I should starve. By these features of my Confession Men may imagine others to my Prejudice: but whatever I deliver myself to be, provided it be such as I really am, I have my end; neither will I make any excuse for committing to Paper such mean and frivolous things as these: the meanness of the Subject compels me to it. They may if they please accuse my Project, but not my Progress. So it is, that without any bodies needing to tell me, I sufficiently see of how little weight and value all this is, and the Folly of my Design. 'Tis enough that my Judgement does not contradict itself, of which these are the Essays. 

Nasutus sis usque licet, sis denique nasus, 
Mart. l. 13. Epig. 2.   
Quantum noluerit ferre rogatus Atlas;  
Et possis ipsum tu deridere Latinum,  
Non potes in nugas dicere plura meas,  
Ipse ego quam dixi: quid dentem dente juvabit  
Reddere? carne opus est, si satur esse velis.  
Ne perdas operam, qui se mirantur, in illos  
Virus habe, nos haec novimus esse nihil.   

Be nosed, be all Nose, till thy Nose appear  
So great, that Atlas it refuse to bear;  
Though even against Latinus thou inveigh,  
Against my Trifles thou no more canst say  
Than I have said myself: then to what end  
Should we to render tooth for tooth contend,  
You must have flesh if you'll be full my Friend.  
Lose not thy Labour then; on those that do  
Admire themselves thy utmost venom throw,  
That these things nothing are full well we know.   I am not obliged to utter no Absurdities, provided I am not deceived in them, and know them to be such: and to trip knowingly, is so ordinary with me, that I seldom do it otherwise, and rarely trip by chance. 'Tis no great matter to add ridiculous Actions to the temerity of my Humour, since I cannot ordinarily help supplying it with those that are vicious. I was present one day at Barledue, when King Francis the Second, for a Memorial of Rene King of Sicily, 
The picture of Rene King of Sicily drawn by himself.  was presented with a Picture he had drawn of himself. Why is it not in like manner lawful for every one to draw himself with a Pen as he did with a Crayon? I will not therefore omit this blemish, though very unfit to be published, which is Irresolution; a very great Defect, and very incommodious in the Negotiations of the Affairs of the World; in doubtful Erterprises, I know not which to choose.  Ne si ne no, nel cormi suona intero. 
I can maintain an Opinion, but I cannot choose one, by reason that in Humane things, to what Sect soever a man inclines, many Apparences present themselves that confirm us in it; and the Philosopher Chrysippus said, that he would of Zeno and Cleanthes his Masters learn their Doctrines only: for as to Proofs and Reasons, he should find enough of his own: which way soever I turn, I still furnish myself with Causes, and likelihood enough to fix me there, which makes me detain doubt, and the liberty of choosing, till occasion presses; and then, to confess the Truth, I, for the most part, throw the Feather into the Wind, as the saying is, and commit myself to the mercy of Fortune; a very light Inclination and Circumstance carries me along with it.  

Dum in dubio est animus, Paulo momento huc atque illuc impellitur. 
Terence. Andr. Act. 1. Scen. 3.    

My mind being in doubt, in a short space,  
With nimble turns, this way and that way sways.   
The incertainty of my Judgement is so equally balanced in most Occurrences, that I could willingly refer it to be decided by the chance of a die. And observe, with great consideration of our Humane Infirmity, the Examples that the Divine History itself has left us of this custom of referring to Fortune and Chance the determination of Elections in doubtful things: Sors cecidit super Matthiam, 
Act. 1.  The Lot fell upon Mathias. Humane Reason is a two edged and a dangerous Sword: observe in the hand of Socrates, her most intimate and familiar Friend, how many several points it has. I am also good for nothing but to follow and suffer myself to be easily carried away with the Crowd; I have not Confidence enough in my own Strength to take upon me to Command and Led. I am very glad to find the way beaten before me by others. If I must run the hazard of an uncertain Choice, I am rather willing to have it under such a one as is more confident in his Opinions than I am in mine, whose Ground and Foundation I find to be very slippery and unsure, and yet I do not easily change, by reason that I discern the same weakness in contrary Opinions. 
Cicero. acad. lib. 4.  Ipsa consuetudo assentiendi periculosa esse videtur, & lubrica. The very custom of assenting seems to be dangerous and slippery. Especially in politic Affairs, there is a large Field open for Contestation. 


Tibullus. l. 4.  Justa pari premitur velati cum pondere libra,  
Prona nec hac plus parte sedet, nec surgit ab illa.   

Like a just Balance pressed with equal weight  
Nor dips, nor rises, but the Beam is strait   Machiavel's Writings, for Example, were solid enough for the Subject, yet were they easy enough to be controverted; and they who have taken up the Cudgels against him, have left as great a Facility of controverting theirs. There was never wanting in that kind of Argument, replies upon replies, and as infinite a contexture of Debates, as our wrangling Lawyers have extended in Favour of long Suits. 


Horace. l. 2. Epist. 2.  Caedimur, & totidem plagis consumimus hostem.   

This is a War,  
Wherein by turns we beat, and beaten are.   the Reasons having little other foundation than Experience, and the variety of humane Events, presenting us with infinite Examples of all sorts of Forms. An understanding Person of our Times says. That whoever would in Contradiction to our Almanacs write cold, where they say hot, and wet where they say dry, and always put the contrary to what they foretell; if he were to lay a Wager, he would not care which side he took, excepting where no incertainty could fall out; as to promise excessive heats at Christmas, or extremity of cold at Midsummer, which cannot possibly be. I have the same Opinion of these politic Controversies; be on which side you will, you have as fair a Game to play as your Adversary, provided you do not proceed so far as to justle Principles that are too manifest to be disputed. And yet, in my Conceit, in public Affairs, there is no Government so ill, provided it be ancient, and has been constant, that is not better than change and alteration. Our manners are infinitely corrupted, and wonderfully incline to the worse: of our Laws and Customs there are many that are barbarous and monstrous: nevertheless, by reason of the difficulty of Reformation, and the Danger of stirring things, if I could put something under to stop the Wheel, and keep it where it is, I would do it with all my Heart. 

Numquam adeo faedis adeoque pudendis 
Juvenal.   
Vtimur exemplis, ut non pejora supersint.   

Th' Examples we produce, are not so plain  
And smutty, but behind far worse remain.   The worst thing I find in our State, is the instability of it, and that our Laws, no more than our Clothes cannot settle in any certain Form. It is very easy to accuse a Government of Imperfection, for all mortal things are full of it: it is very easy to beget in a People a contempt of Ancient Observances, never any man undertook it but he did it; but to establish a better Regiment in the stead of that a man has overthrown, many who have attempted that have been foundered in the attempt. I very little consult my Prudence in my Conduct; I am willing to let it be guided by the public Rule. Happy People, who do what they are commanded better than they who command, without tormenting themselves with the causes, who suffer themselves gently to roll after the Celestial Revolution. Obedience is never pure nor calm in him who argues and disputes. In fine, to return to myself; the only thing by which I esteem myself to be something, is, that wherein never any man thought himself to be defective; my recommendation is vulgar and common, for who ever thought he wanted Sense? It would be a Proposition that would imply a Contradiction in itself, 'tis a Disease that never is where it is discerned, 'tis tenacious and strong, but that the first ray of the Patient's Sight does nevertheless pierce through and disperse as the Beams of the Sun do thick and obscure Mists. To accuse one's self would be to excuse in this case, and to condemn to absolve. There never was Porter, or the silliest Girl, that did not think they had sense enough to do their business. We easily enough confess an advantage of Courage, Strength, Experience, Activity and Beauty in others; but an Advantage in Judgement we yield to none, and the Reasons that simply proceed from the natural arguing of others, we think, if we had but turned our Thoughts that way, we should ourselves have found out as well as they. Knowledge, Style, and such Parts as we see in others works, we are soon aware of, if they excel our own: but for the simple Products of the Understanding, every one thinks he could have found out the like, and is hardly sensible of the weight and difficulty, if not, (and then with much ado) in an extreme and incomparable distance. And whoever should be able clearly to discern the height of another's Judgement, would be also able to raise his own to the same pitch. So that it is a sort of Exercise, from which a Man is to expect very little Praise, a kind of Composition of small Repute. And besides, for whom do you write? The Learned, to whom the Authority appertains of judging Books, know no other value but that of Learning, and allow of no other proceeding of Wit, but that of Erudition and Art: if you have mistaken one of the Scipios for another, what is all the rest you have to say worth? Whoever is ignorant of Aristotle, according to their Rule, is in some sort ignorant of himself. Heavy, ill bred, and vulgar Souls, cannot discern the Grace of a delicate Style. Now these two sorts of Men take up the World. The third sort, into whose hands you fall, of Souls that are regular and strong of themselves, is so rare, that it justly has neither Name nor Place amongst us; and 'tis so much time lost to aspire unto it, or to endeavour to please it. 'Tis commonly said, that the justest dividend Nature has given of her Favours, is that of Sense; for there is no one that is not contented with his share: is it not Reason? for whoever should discern beyond that, would see beyond his sight. I think my Opinions are good and sound, but who does not think the same of his? one of the best Proofs I have that mine are so, is the small esteem I have of myself; for had they not been very well assured, they would easily have suffered themselves to have been deceived by the peculiar Affection I have to myself, as one that place it almost wholly in myself, and do not let much run by. All that others distribute amongst an infinite number of Friends and Acquaintance, to their Glory and Grandeur, I dedicate to the repose of my own mind and to myself. That which escapes thence is not properly by my direction. 


Plaut.  Mihi nempe valere, & vivere doctus.   

To love myself I very well can tell,  
So as to live content, and to be well.   Now I find my Opinions very bold and constant, in condemning my own Imperfection; and to say the truth, 'tis a Subject upon which I exercise my Judgement, as much as upon any other. The World looks always opposite, I turn my sight inwards, there fix and employ it: Every one looks before him, I look into myself, I have no other business but myself, I am eternally meditating upon myself, control and taste myself; other men's Thoughts are ever wandering abroad, if they set themselves to thinking, they are still going forward, 

Nemo in sese tentat descendere. 
Perseus. sat. 4.    

No man attempts to dive into himself.   for my part, I circulate in myself: and this free Humour of not over easily subjecting my Belief, I owe principally to myself; for the strongest and most general Imaginations I have, are those, that as a man may say, were born with me; they are natural and entirely my own. I produced them crude and simple, with a strong and bold Production, but a little troubled and imperfect; I have since established and fortified them with the Authority of others, and the sound Examples of the Ancients, whom I have found of the same Judgement: they have given me faster hold, and a more manifest Fruition and Possession of that I had before embraced; the Reputation that every one pretends to, of vivacity and promptness of Wit, I speak in Regularity; the Glory they pretend to from a brave and honourable Action, or some particular Excellency, I claim from order, correspondence, and tranquillity of Opinions and Manners. Omnino si quidquam est decorum, 
Cicero de offic. lib. 1.  nihil est profecto magis quam aequabilitas universae Vitae, tum singularum actionum: quam conservare non possis, si aliorum naturam imitans, omittas tuam. If any thing be entirely decent, nothing certainly can be more, than an equability in the whole Life, and in every particular Action of it: which thou canst not possibly observe and keep, if imitating other men's Natures, thou layest aside thy own. Here than you see to what degree I find myself guilty of this first part, that I said was in the Vice of Presumption. As to the second, which consists in not having a sufficient esteem for others; I know not whether or no I can so well excuse myself; but whatever comes on't, I am resolved to speak the Truth. And whether peradventure it be, that the continual frequentation I have had with the Humours of the Ancients, and the Idea of those great Souls of past Ages, put me out of taste both with others and myself; or that, in truth, the Age we live in does produce but very indifferent things; yet so it is, that I see nothing worthy of any great admiration. Neither indeed have I so great an intimacy with many Men, as is requisite to make a right Judgement of them: and those with whom my Condition makes me the most frequent, are, for the most part, Men that have little care of the culture of the Soul; but that look upon Honour as the sum of all blessings, and Valour as the height of all Perfection. What I see that is handsome in others, I very readily commend, and highly esteem: nay, I often say more in their Commendation, than I think they really deserve, and give myself so far leave to lie; for I cannot invent a false Subject. My Testimony is never wanting to my Friends in what I conceive deserves Praise: and where a foot is due, I am willing to give them a foot and a half; but to attribute to them Qualities that they have not, I cannot do it, nor openly defend their Imperfections. Nay, I frankly and ingeniously give my very Enemies their due Testimony of Honour. My Affection altars, my Judgement does not; and I never confound my Animosity with other Circumstances that are foreign to it: and am so jealous of the libertyof my Judgement, that I can very hardly part with it for any Passion whatever. I do myself a greater injury in lying, than I do him of whom I tell a Lye. This commendable and generous Custom is observed of the Persian Nation, 
Enemies honoured by the Persians for their Virtue.  that they spoke of their mortal Enemies, and with whom they were at deadly Wars, as honourably and justly as their Virtues did deserve. I know Men enough, that have several fine Parts; one Wit, another Courage, another Address, another Conscience, another Language, one, one Science, another, another; but a generally great Man, and that has all these brave Parts together, or any one of them to such a degree of Excellence that we should admire him, or compare him with those we honour of times past, my Fortune never brought me acquainted with; and the greatest I ever knew, I mean for the natural parts of the Soul, was Stephen Boetius; 
Praise of Stephen Boetius.  his was a full Soul indeed, and that had every way a beautiful aspect: a Soul of the old stamp, and that had produced great Effects, had Fortune been so pleased: having added much to those great natural Parts by learning and study. But how it comes to pass I know not, and yet it is certainly so, there is as much vanity and weakness of Judgement in those who profess the greatest Abilities, who take upon them learned Callings, and bookish Employments, as in any other sort of Men whatever: either because more is required and expected from them, and that common defects are inexcusable in them; or because the Opinion they have of their own Learning makes them more bold to expose and lay themselves too open, by which they lose and betray themselves. As an Artificer more betrays his want of Skill in a rich Matter he has in hand, if he disgrace the Work by ill handling, and contrary to the Rules required, than in a Matter of less value; and Men are more displeased at a Disproportion in a Statue of Gold, than in one of Alabaster; so do these, when they exhibit things that in themselves and in their place would be good: for they make use of them without discretion, honouring their Memories at the expense of their Understandings, and making themselves ridiculous to honour Cicero, Galen, Ulpian and St. Hierom. I willingly fall again into the Discourse of the Vanity of our Education; the end of which is not to render us good and wise, but learned; and she has obtained it. She has not taught us to follow and embrace Virtue and Prudence, but she has imprinted in us their Derivation and Etymology. We know how to decline Virtue, we know not how to love it. If we do not know what Prudence is really, and in effect, and by Experience, we have it however by heart. We are not content to know the Extraction, Kindred and Alliances of our Neighbours, we will moreover have them our Friends, and will establish a Correspondency and Intelligence with them: but this Education of ours has taught us Definitions, Divisions, and Partitions of Virtue, as so many Surnames and Branches of a Genealogy, without any further care of establishing any Familiarity or Intimacy betwixt her and us. She has culled out for our initiary Instruction, not such Books as contain the soundest and truest Opinions, but those that speak the best Greek and Latin; and by these quaint Words has instilled into our Fancy the vainest Humours of Antiquity. A good Education altars the Judgement and Manners; as it happened to Polemon, a young lewd and debauched Greek, who going by chance to hear one of Xenocrates his Lectures, did not only observe the Eloquence and Learning of the Reader, and not only brought away the knowledge of some fine matter; but a more manifest and a more solid Profit, which was the sudden Change and Reformation of his former Life. Who ever found such an Effect of our Discipline? 

— faciásne quod olim 
Horace. l. 2. Sat. 3.   
Mutatus Polemon, ponas insignia morbi  
Fasciolas, cubital, focalia, potus ut ille  
Dicitur ex collo furtim carpsisse coronas,  
Postquam est impransi correptus voce Magistri.   


Mr. Alexander Brome.  Pray tell me, can you do like Polemon?  
Who, being drunk, ran with a Garland on  
Into the School of grave Xenocrates,  
With Ribbons, Cushions, Handkerchiefs; all these  
He privately took off, and threw away,  
When he heard what that temperate Man did say.   That seems to me to be the least contemptible Condition of Men, which by its plainness and simplicity is seated in the lowest degree, and invites us to a more regular Conversation. I find the manner and clownish Language of Country People commonly better suited to the Rule and Prescription of true Philosophy, than those of our Philosophers themselves. 
Lactant. Instit. l. 2.  Plus sapit vulgus, quia tantum, quantum opus est, sapit. The vulgar are so much the wiser, because they only know what is needful for them to know. The most remarkable Men, as I have judged by outward appearance (for to judge of them according to my own Method, I must penetrate a great deal deeper) for Soldiers and military Conduct, were the Duke of Guise, who died at Orleans, and the late Marshal Strozzy. And for Gunmen of great Ability, and no common Virtue, Olivier, and the l'Hospital, Chancellors of France. Poesy too in my Opinion has flourished in this Age of ours. We have abundance of very good Artificers in the Trade, Aurat, Beze, Buchanan, l'Hospital, Montdore, and Turnebus. As to the French Poets, I believe they have raised it to the highest pitch to which it can ever arrive; and in those Parts of it wherein Ronsard and du Bellay excel, I find them little inferior to the Ancient Perfection. Adrian Turnebus knew more, and what he did know, better than any Man of his Time, or long before him. The Lives of the last ●●●ke of Alva, and of our Constable de M●●●●orency, were both of them Great and Nobl●▪ and that had many rare resemblances of Fortune: but the beauty and glory of the ●●●th of the last, in the sight of Paris and of 〈◊〉 King, against his nearest Relations, in their Service, at the head of an Army, through his Conduct victorious, and by a blow of hand in so extreme an old Age, merits methinks to be recorded amongst the most remarkable Events of our Times. As also the constant Virtue, sweetness of Manners, and Conscientious Facility of Monsieur de la Nove, in so great an Injustice of armed Parties (the true School of Treason, Inhumanity, and Robbery,) wherein he always kept up the reputation of a good Man, and a great and experienced Captain. I have taken a delight to publish in several Places the hopes I have of Mary de Gournay le Jars, my Daughter of Alliance; and certainly beloved by me with more than a Paternal Love, and mewed up in my Solitude and Retirement as one of the best parts of my own Being. I have no regard to any thing in this World but her; and if a man may presage from her Youth, her Soul will one day be capable of very great things; and amongst others, of the Perfection of that Sacred Friendship, to which we do not read that any of her Sex could ever yet arrive; the sincerity and solidity of her Manners are already sufficient for it, and her Affection towards me more than superabundant, and such as that there is nothing more to be wished, if not that the Apprehension she has of my End, being now five and fifty years old, might not so much afflict her. The Judgement she made of my first Essays, being a Woman so young, and in this Age, and alone in her own Country, and the famous vehemency wherewith she loved, and desired me upon the sole Esteem she had of me, before she ever saw my Face, is an Accident very worthy of Consideration. Other Virtues have had little or no credit in this Age; but Valour is become popular by our Civil Wars: and in this, we have Souls brave, even to Perfection, and in so great number, that the Choice is impossible to be made. This is all of extraordinary, and not common, that has hitherto arrived at my knowledge.   

CHAP. XVIII. Of giving the Lye.  
WEll, but some one will say to me, this design of making a man's self the subject of his writing, were indeed excusable in rare and famous Men, who by their Reputation had given others a curiosity to be fully informed of them. It is most true, I confess it, and know very well, that a Tradesman will scarce lift his Eyes from his work to look at an ordinary man, when they will forsake their Business and their Shops to stare at an eminent Person when he comes to Town: it misbecomes any other to give his own Character, but such a one who has Qualities worthy of imitation, and whose Life and Opinions may serve for Example. Caesar and Xenophon had whereon to found their Narrations in the greatness of their own Performances, as a just and solid Foundation. And it were also to be wished, that we had the Journal Papers of Alexander the Great, the Commentaries that Augustus, Cato, Sylla, Brutus, and others have left of their Actions. Men love and contemplate the very Statues of such Men both in Copper and Marble. This Remonstrance therefore is very true; but it very little concerns me. 

Non recito cuiquam, nisi amicis, idque rogatus; 
Hor. lib. 1. sat. 4.   
Non ubivis, coramve quibuslibet: In medio qui  
Scripta foro recitant sunt multi, quique laventes.   

I seldom do Rehearse, and when I do  
'Tis to my Friends, and with Reluctance too, 
Mr. Alexander Brome.   
Not before every one, and every where;  
We have too many that Rehersers are,  
In public Bath, and open Markets too.   I do not here form a Statue to erect in the most eminent Place of a City, in a Church, or any public Place; 


Perseus. sat. 5.  Non equidem hoc studio bullatis ut mihi nugis:  
Pagina turgescat:  
Secreti loquimur.   

I study not to make my Pages swell  
With mighty trifles, secret things I tell.   'tis for some corner of a Library, or to entertain a Neighbour, a Kinsman, or a Friend, that has a mind to renew his Acquaintance and Familiarity with this Image I have made of myself. Others have been encouraged to speak of themselves, because they found the Subject worthy and rich; I, on the contrary, am the bolder, by reason the Subject is so poor and sterile, that I cannot be suspected of Ostentation. I judge freely of the Actions of others, I give little of my own to judge of, because they are nothing: I do not find so much good in myself as to tell it without blushing. What contentment would it be to me to hear any one thus relate to me the Manners, Faces, Countenances, the ordinary Words and Fortunes of my Ancestors? how attentively should I listen to it! In earnest, it would be ill Nature to despise so much as the Pictures of our Friends and Predecessors, the fashion of their clothes and Arms. I preserve my Father's Writing, his Seal, and one peculiar Sword of his, and have not thrown long Staves he used to carry in his hand out of my Closet. 
D. August. de Civit. l. 1. cap. 1.  Paterna vestis, & annulus, tanto charior est posteris, quanto erga parents major affectus. A Father's Garment and Ring, is by so much dearer to his Posterity, as they had the greater affection towards them. If my Posterity nevertheless shall be of another mind, I shall be revenged on them; for they cannot care less for me, than I shall then do for them. All the Traffic that I have in this with the Public, is, that I borrow those Utensils of their Writing, which are more easy and most at hand, and in Recompense, shall peradventure keep a pound of Butter in the Market from melting in the Sun. 

Ne toga cordyllis, 
Mart. Catullus▪  ne penula desit olivis  
Et laxas scombris saepe dabo tunicas.   

I'll furnish Plaice and Olives with a Coat,  
And cover Mackarel when the Sun shines hot.   And though no body should read me, have I lost my time in entertaining myself so many idle hours, in so pleasing and useful Thoughts? In moulding this Figure upon myself, I have been so oft constrained to temper and compose myself in a right posture, that the Copy is truly taken, and has in some sort formed itself. But painting for others, I represent myself in a better colouring than my own natural Complexion. I have no more made my Book than my Book has made me. 'Tis a Book consubstantial with the Author, of a peculiar Design: a Member of my Life, and whose Business is not designed for others, as that of all other Books is. In giving myself so continual, and so exact an account of myself, have I lost my time? For they who sometimes cursorily survey themselves only, do not so strictly examine themselves, nor penetrate so deep, as he who makes it his Business, his Study, and his whole Employment, who intends a lasting Record, with all his Fidelity, and with all his Force. The most delicious Pleasures do so digest themselves within, that they avoid leaving any trace of themselves, and avoid the sight not only of the People, but of any particular Man. How oft has this Meditation diverted me from troublesome Thoughts? and all that are frivolous should be reputed so. Nature has presented us with a large faculty of entertaining ourselves alone: and oft calls us to it, to teach us, that we owe ourselves in part to Society, but chiefly and mostly to ourselves. That I may habituate my Fancy, even to meditate in some Method, and to some end, and to keep it from losing itself, and roving at random; 'tis but to give it a Body, and to Book all the little Thoughts that present themselves to it. I give ear to my Whimsies, because I am to record them. It oft falls out, that being displeased at some Actions that Civility and Reason will not permit me openly to reprove; do I here disgorge myself without design of public Instruction: And also these Poetical Lashes 

Zon sus l' aeil, zon sur le groin,  

Mar●t contre Sagoin.  Zon sur le dos du sagoin,   

A Jerk over the Eye, over the Snout,  
Let Sagoin be jerked throughout.   imprint themselves better upon Paper, than upon the most sensible Flesh. What if I listen to Books a little more attentively than ordinary, since I watch if I can purloin any thing that may adorn or support my own? I have not at all studied to make a Book; but I have in some sort studied because I had made it, if it be studying to scratch and pinch now one Author, and then another, either by the head or foot; not with any design to steal Opinions from them; but to assist, second, and fortify those I already have embraced. But who shall we believe in the report he makes of himself in so corrupt an Age? considering there are so few, if any at all, whom we can believe, when speaking of others, where there is less interest to lie. The first thing that is done in order to the corruption of Manners, is banishing of Truth; for, as Pindar says, to be sincerely true, is the beginning of a great Virtue, and the first Article that Plato requires in the Governor of his Republic. The truth of these days is not that which really is, but what every man persuades himself, or that he is made to believe; as we generally give the name of Money, not only to pieces of the just alloy, but even to the false also, if they are current, and will pass. Our Nation has long been reproached with this Vice; for Salvianus Massiliensis, who lived in the time of the Emperor Valentinian, says, that lying and forswearing themselves is not a Vice in the French, but a way of speaking. He that would enhance upon this Testimony, might say, that it is now a Virtue in them. Men form and fashion themselves to it, as to an Excercise of Honour; for Dissimulation is one of the most notable Qualities of this Age. I have often considered whence this Custom that we so religiously observe should spring, of being more highly offended with the reproach of a Vice so familiar to us than any other, and that it should be the highest injury can in Words be done us, to reproach us with a Lie; and upon Examination, find, that it is natural to defend the part that is most open, and lies exposed to the greatest Danger. It seems as if by resenting, and being moved at the Accusation, we in some sort acquitted ourselves of the Fault; though we confess it in Effect, we condemn it in outward appearance. May it not also be, that this reproach seems to imply Cowardice and meanness of Courage? of which, can there be a more manifest sign, than to eat a Man's own Words? What, to lie against a Man's own Knowledge? Lying is a base unworthy Vice; a Vice that one of the Ancients pourtrays in the most odious colours, when he says, that it is to manifest a contempt of God, 
Lying an Argument of the Contempt of God.  and withal a fear of Men. It is not possible more excellently to represent the Horror, Baseness, and Irregularity of it; for what can a man imagine more hateful and contemptible than to be a Coward towards Men, and Valiant against his Maker? Our Intelligence, being by no other way to be conveyed to one another but by speaking, who falsifies that, betrays public Society. 'Tis the only way by which we communicate our Thoughts and Wills; 'tis the Interpreter of the Soul, and if that deceive us, we no longer know, nor have no farther tie upon one another. If that deceive us, it breaks all our Correspondence, and dissolves all the ties of Government. Certain Nations of the new discovered Indies (no matter for naming them, being they are no more; for by a wonderful and unheard of Example, the Desolation of that Conquest has extended to the utter abolition of Names, and the ancient knowledge of Places) offered to their Gods Humane Blood, but only such as was drawn from the Tongue and Ears, to expiate for the Sin of Lying, as well heard as pronounced. The good Fellow of Greece was wont to say, that Children were amused with Toys, and Men with Words. As to the divers usage of our giving the Lie, and the Laws of Honour in that Case, and the alterations they have received, I shall refer saying what I know of them to another time, and shall learn, if I can, in the mean time, at what time the Custom took beginning of so exactly weighing and measuring Words, and of making our Honours so interested in them; for it is easy to judge, that it was not anciently amongst the Greeks and Romans; and I have often thought it strange to see them rail at, and give one another the Lie without any farther Quarrel. Their Laws of Duty steered some other course than ours. Caesar is sometimes called Thief, and sometimes Drunkard to his Teeth. We see the liberty of Invectives they practised upon one another; I mean the greatest Chiefs of War of both Nations, where words are only revenged with words, and never proceed to any farther Quarrel.   

CHAP. XIX. Of Liberty of Conscience.  
'tIs usual to see good Intentions, if carried on without Moderation, push men on to very vicious Effects. In this Dispute, which has at this time engaged France in a Civil War, the better and the soundest Cause no doubt is that which maintains the ancient Religion and Government of the Kingdom. Nevertheless, amongst the good men of that Party, (for I do not speak of those that only make a pretence, either to execute their own particular Revenges, or to gratify their Avarice, or to pursue the Favour of Princes; but of those who engage in the quarrel out of true Zeal to Religion, and a virtuous Affection to maintain the Peace and Government of their Country) of these I say, we see many whom Passion transports beyond the bounds of Reason, and sometimes inspires them with Counsels that are unjust and violent, 
Plaut.  and moreover inconsiderate and rash. It is true, that in those first times when our Religion began to gain Authority with the Laws, Zeal armed many against all sorts of Pagan Books, by which the learned suffered an exceeding great loss. A disorder that I conceive did more prejudice to Letters, than all the Flames of the Barbarians. Of this Cornelius Tacitus is a very good Testimony; for though the Emperor Tacitus, his Kinsman, had by express Order furnished all the Libraries in the World with it, nevertheless one entire Copy could not escape the curious examination of those who desired to abolish it, for only five or six idle Clauses that were contrary to our belief. They had also the trick easily to lend undue Praises to all the Emperors who did any thing for us, and universally to condemn all the Actions of those who were our Adversaries, as is evidently manifest in the Emperor Julian, surnamed the Apostate; who was in truth a very great and a rare Man, 
The Character of the Emperor Julian the Apostate.  a Man in whose Soul Philosophy was imprinted in the best Characters, by which he professed to govern all his Actions; and in truth there is no sort of Virtue of which he has not left behind him very notable examples. In Chastity, (of which the whole course of his Life has given manifest Proof) we read the same of him, 
His Chastity.  that was said of Alexander and Scipio, that being in the Flower of his age, for he was slain by the Parthians at one and thirty, of a great many very beautiful Captives, he would not so much as look upon one. As to his Justice, he took himself the Pains to hear the Parties, and although he would out of Curiosity inquire what Religion they were of, nevertheless the hatred he had to ours, never gave any counterpoise to the Balance. He made himself several good Laws, and cut off a great part of the Subsidies and Taxes imposed and levied by his Predecessors. We have two good Historians who were eye Witnesses of his Actions: one of which, Marcellinus, in several Places of his History, sharply reproves an Edict of his whereby he interdicted all Christian Rhetoricians and Grammarians to keep School, or to teach, and says he could wish that Act of his had been buried in Silence. It is very likely, that had he done any more severe things against us, he, so affectionate as he was to our party, would not have passed it over in silence. He was indeed sharp against us; but yet no cruel Enemy: for our own People tell this Story of him, that one day, walking about the City of Chalcedon, Maris, Bishop of the Place, was so bold as to tell him that he was impious, and an Enemy to Christ, at which, say they, therein affecting a philosophical Patience, he was no further moved, than to reply, Go Wretch, and lament the loss of thy Eyes, to which the Bishop replied again, I thank Jesus Christ for taking away my sight, that I may not see thy impudent Face. So it is, that this Action of his savours nothing of the Cruelty that he is said to have exercised towards us. He was (says Eutropius, my other Witness) an Enemy to Christianity, but without putting his Hand to Blood. And to return to his Justice, 
His Justice.  there is nothing in that whereof he can be accused, the severity excepted he practised in the beginning of his Reign, against those who had followed the Party of Constantius, his Predecessor. As to his Sobriety, he lived always a Soldiers kind of Life; 
His Sobriety.  and kept a Table in the most profound Peace, like one that prepared and inur'd himself to the austerities of War. His Vigilancy was such, 
His Vigilancy.  that he divided the Night into three or four parts, of which, always the least was dedicated to sleep, the rest was spent either in visiting the estate of his Army and Guards, in Person, or in Study; for, amongst other rare Qualities, he was very excellent in all sorts of Learning. 'Tis said of Alexander the Great, that being in Bed, for fear lest sleep should divert him from his Thoughts and Studies, he had always a Basin set by his Bedside, and held one of his hands out with a Ball of Copper in it, to the end, that beginning to fall asleep, and his Fingers leaving their hold, the Ball by falling into the Basin might awake him. But the other had his mind so bend upon what he had a mind to do, and so little disturbed with Fumes, by reason of his singular Abstinence, that he had no need of any such Invention. 
His Military Experience.  As to his Military Experience, he was excellent in all the Qualities of a great Captain, as it was likely he should, being almost all his Life in a continual exercise of War, and most of that time with us in France, against the Germans and Franes: We hardly read of any Man that ever saw more Dangers, or that made more frequent Proofs of his personal Valour. His Death has something in it parallel with that of Epaminondas, for he was wounded with an Arrow, and tried to pull it out, and had done it, but that being edged, it cut and disabled his Hand. He incessantly called out, that they would carry him again in this condition into the heat of the Battle to encourage his Soldiers, who very bravely disputed the Battle without him, till Night parted the Armies. We stood obliged to his Philosophy for the singular contempt he had for his Life, and all Humane things. He had a firm Belief of the immortality of the Soul. In matter of Religion, he was vicious throughout, and was surnamed the Apostate, for having relinquished ours: though methinks, 'tis more likely that he had never throughly embraced it, but had dissembled out of obedience to the Laws, till he came to the Empire. He was in his own so superstitious, that that he was laughed at for it by those of the same Opinion of his own time, who jeeringly said, that had he got the Victory over the Parthians, he had destroyed the breed of Oxen in the World to supply his Sacrifices: He was moreover besotted with the Art of Divination, and gave Authority to all sorts of Predictions. He said, amongst other things, at his Death, that he was obliged to the Gods, and thanked them, in that they would not cut him off by Surprise, having long before advertised him of the Place and Hour of his Death, nor by a mean and unmanly Death, more becoming lazy and delicate People, nor by a Death that was languishing, long, and painful; and that they had thought him worthy to Die after that noble manner, in the progress of his Victories, in the flower of his Age, and in the height of his Glory. 
The remarkable Death of the Emperor Julian.  He had a Vision like that of Marcus Brutus, that first threatened him in Gaul, and afterward appeared to him in Persia just before his Death. These Words, that some make him say when he felt himself wounded, Thou hast overcome Nazaren; or as others, Content thyself Nazaren; would hardly have been omitted, had they been believed by my Witnesses, who being present in the Army, have set down to the least motions and words of his end, no more than certain other Miracles that are recorded of him. And to return to my Subject, he long nourished, says Marcellinus, Paganism in his Heart; but all his Army being Christians, he durst not own it. But in the end, seeing himself strong enough to dare to discover himself, he caused the Temples of the Gods to be thrown open, and did his utmost to set on foot and to encourage Idolatry: Which the better to effect, having at Constantinople found the People disunited, and also the Prelates of the Church divided amongst themselves, having convened them all before him, he gravely and earnestly admonished them to calm those civil Dissensions, and that every one might freely, and without fear follow his own Religion. Which he did the more sedulously solicit, in hope that this Licence would augment the Schisms and Faction of their Division, and hinder the People from reuniting, and consequently fortifying themselves against him by their unanimous Intelligence and Concord; having experimented by the cruelty of some Christians, that there is no Beast in the World so much to be feared by Man, as Man. These are very near his Words, wherein this is very worthy of consideration, that the Emperor Julian made use of the same Receipt of Liberty of Conscience to inflame the civil Dissensions, that our Kings do to extinguish them. So that a man may say on one side, that to give the People the Reins to entertain every man his own Opinion, 
Liberty of Conscience.  is to scatter and sow Division, and, as it were, to lend a hand to augment it, their being no fence nor correction of Law to stop and hinder their Career; but on the other side, a Man may also say, that to give the People the Reins to entertain every Man his own Opinion, is to mollify and appease them by Facility and Toleration, and dull the point which is whetted and made sharper by variety, novelty, and difficulty. And I think it is better for the Honour of the Devotion of our Kings, that not having been able to do what they would, they have made a show of being willing to do what they could.   

CHAP. XX. That we taste nothing pure.  
THE imbecility of our Condition is such, that things cannot in their natural simplicity and purity fall into our Use; the Elements that we enjoy are changed, even Metals themselves, and Gold must in some sort be debased to fit it for our Service. Neither has Virtue, so simple as that which Aristo, Pyrro, and also the Stoics have made the principal end of Life; nor the Cerenaick and Aristippick Pleasure, been without mixture useful to it. Of the Pleasure and Goods that we enjoy, there is not one exempt from some mixture of ill and inconvenience. 

— medio de fonto leporum, 
Lucret. l. 4●   
Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat.   

Something that's bitter will arise  
Even amidst our jollities.   Our extremest Pleasure has some Air of groaning and complaining in't. Would you not say that it is dying of Pain? Nay, when we forge the Image of it, we stuff it with sickly and painful Epithets; Languor, Softness, Feebleness, Faintness, Morbidezza, a great Testimony of their Consanguinity and Consubstantiality. The most profound Joy has more of Severity than Gaiety in it. The most extreme and most full contentment, more of the grave and temperate than of the wanton. Ipsa faelicitas, se nisi temperat premit. Even Felicity, unless it moderate itself, 
Seneca. Ep. 74.  oppresseth. Delight chews and grinds us; according to the old Greek Verse, which says, that the Gods sell us all the Goods they give us; that is to say, that they give us nothing Pure and Perfect, and that we do not purchase them but at the price of some evil. Labour and Pleasure, very unlike in Nature, associate nevertheless by I know not what natural Conjunction. Socrates says, that some God tried to mix in one mass, and to confound Pain and Pleasure, but not being able to do it, he unbethought him, at least to couple them by the Tail. Metrodorus said, that in Sorrow there is some mixture of Pleasure: I know not whether or no he intended any thing else by that saying: but for my part, I am of Opinion, that there is design, consent, and complacency in giving a Man's self up to Melancholy. I say, that besides Ambition, which may also have a stroke in the Business; there is some shadow of Delight and Delicacy which smiles upon and flatters us even in the very lap of Melancholy. Are there not some Complexions that feed upon it? 


Ovid. Trist. — est quaedam flere voluptas.   

A certain kind of Pleasure 'tis to weep.   And one Attalus in Seneca says, that the Memory of our lost Friends is as grateful to us, as bitterness in Wine too old is to the palate, 


Catullus. Ep. 14.  Minister veteris puer falerni  
Ingere mi calices amariores.   

Thou Boy, that fill'st the old Falernian Wine,  
The bitterest pour into the Boul that's mine.   and as Apples that have a sweet tartness. Nature discovers this confusion to us. Painters hold, that the same Motions and screwing of the Face that serve for weeping, serve for laughter too; and indeed, before the one or the other be finished, do but observe the Painter's manner of handling, and you will be in doubt to which of the two the design does tend. And the extremity of Laughter does at last bring Tears. Nullum sine auctora ment malum est. No evil is without its Compensation. 
Senec. Ep. 70.  When I imagine man abounding with all the pleasure and conveniences that are to be desired, let us put the case that all his Members were always seized with a pleasure like that of Generation in its most excessive height; I feel him melting under the weight of his delight, and see him utterly unable to support so pure, so continual, and so universal a pleasure. Indeed he is running away whilst he is there, and naturally makes haste to escape, as from a place where he cannot stand firm, and where he is afraid of sinking. When I the most strictly and religiously confess myself, I find that the best Virtue I have has in it some tincture of Vice: and am afraid that Plato, in his purest Virtue, (I who am as sincere and perfect a lover of Virtue of that stamp, as any other whatever) if he had listened, and laid his ear close to himself (and he did so) he would have heard some jarring sound of Humane mixture: but faint and remote, and only to be perceived by himself. Man is wholly and throughout but patch and motley. Even the Laws of Justice themselves cannot subsist without mixture of Injustice: insomuch that Plato says, they undertake to cut off the Hydra's head, who pretend to clear the Law of all inconvenience. 
Tacit. Annal. lib. 14.  Omne magnum exemplum habet aliquid ex iniquo, quod contra singulos utilitate publica rependitur. Every great example has in it some mixture of Injustice, which recompenses the wrong done to particular men by the public utility, says Tacitus. It is likewise true, that for the usage of Life, and the service of public Commerce, there may be some excesses in the purity and perspicacity of our minds; that penetrating light has in it too much of subtlety and curiosity: we must a little stupefy, and blunt, and abate them, to render them more obedient to example and practice; and a little veil and obscure them, the better to proportion them to this dark and earthly Life. And yet common, and less speculative Souls are found to be more proper, and more successful in the management of Affairs; and the elevated and exquisite Opinions of Philosophy more unfit for business. This sharp vivacity of Soul, and the supple and restless volubility attending it, disturb our Negotiations. We are to manage humane Erterprises more superficially and rudely, and leave a great part to Fortune. It is not necessary to examine Affairs with so much subtlety, and so deep: a man loses himself in the consideration of so many contrary lustres, and so many various forms. 
Livy.  Voluntatibus res inter se pugnantes, obtorpuerant animi. Whilst they considered of things so indifferent in themselves, they were astonished, and knew not what to do. 'Tis what the Ancients say of Simonides, that by reason his imagination suggested to him, upon the question King Hiero had put to him, (to answer which he had had many days to meditate in) several witty and subtle considerations, whilst he doubted which was the most likely, he totally despaired of the truth. Who dives into, and in his inquisition comprehends all circumstances and consequences, hinders his election: a little Engine well handled, is sufficient for executions of less or greater weight and moment. The best Husbands are those who can worst give account how they are so; and the greatest Talkers for the most part do nothing to purpose. I know one of this sort of men, and a most excellent director in all sorts of good husbandry, who has miserably let an hundred thousand Livers yearly Revenue slip through his hands. I know another, who says, that he is able to give better advice than any of his Counsel; and there is not in the world a fairer show of a Soul, and of great understanding, than he has; nevertheless, when he comes to the test, his Servants find him quite another thing; not to make any further mention of his misfortune.   

CHAP. XXI. Against Idleness.  
THe Emperor Vespasian, being sick of the Disease whereof he died, did not for all that neglect to inquire after the Estate of the Empire; and even in bed continually dispatched very many Affairs of great consequence; for which, being reproved by his Physician, as a thing prejudicial to his health, An Emperor, said he, must die standing. A fine saying in my Opinion, and worthy a great Prince. The Emperor Adrian since made use of the same Words, and Kings should be often put in mind of it, to make them know, that the great Office conferred upon them of the command of so many men, is not an Employment of ease; and that there is nothing can so justly disgust a Subject, and make him unwilling to expose himself to Labour and Danger for the Service of his Prince, than to see him in the mean time devoted to his Ease and unmanly Delights: and to be solicitous of his Preservation, who so much neglects that of his People. Whoever will take upon him to maintain, that 'tis better for a Prince to carry on his Wars by others, than in his own Person; Fortune will furnish him with Examples enough of those whose Lieutenants have brought great Erterprises to a happy Issue, and of those also whose Presence has done more hurt than good. But no virtuous and valiant Prince, can with Patience endure so dishonourable Councils, under colour of saving his Head, like the Statue of a Saint, for the Happiness of his Kingdom; they degrade him from, and declare him incapable of his Office, which is Military throughout. I know one who had much rather be beaten, than to sleep whilst another fights for him; and who never without jealousy heard of any brave thing done even by his own Officers in his Absence. And Selimus said, with very good Reason, in my Opinion, That Victories obtained without the Master, were never complete. Much more would he have said, that that Master ought to blush for shame, to pretend to any share in the Honour, having contributed nothing to the work, but his Voice and thought; nor even so much as those, considering that in such work as that, the Direction and Command that deserve Honour are only such as are given upon the place, and in the heat of the Business. No Pilot performs his Office by standing still. The Princes of the Ottoman Family, the chiefest in the World in Military Fortune, have warmly embraced this Opinion, and Bajazet the second, with his Son that swerved from it, spending their time in Sciences and other retired Employments, gave great blows to their Empire: and Amurath the third, now reigning, following their Example, begins to find the same. Was it not Edward the Third King of England, who said this of our Charles the Fifth? There never was King who so seldom put on his Arms, and yet never King who cut me out so much Work. He had reason to think it strange, as an effect of Chance more than of Reason. And let those seek out some other to join with them than me, who will reckon the Kings of Castille and Portugal amongst the warlike and magnanimous Conquerors, because at the distance of twelve hundred Leagues from their lazy abode, by the Conduct of their Captains, they made themselves Masters of both Indies; of whom it would be known, if they have but the Courage to go and in Person enjoy them. The Emperor Julian said yet further, that a Philosopher, and a brave man, ought not so much as to breathe; that is to say, not to allow any more to bodily Necessities, than what we cannot refuse; keeping the Soul and Body still intent and busy about honourable, great, and virtuous things: he was ashamed if any one in public saw him spit, or sweat, (which is said by some also of the Lacedaemonian young men, and that Xenophon says of the Persian) forasmuch as he conceived that Exercise, continual Labour, and Sobriety, aught to have dried up all those Superfluities. What Seneca says will not be unfit for this Place; which is, that the ancient Romans kept their Youth always standing, and taught them nothing that they were to learn sitting. 'Tis a generous desire to wish to die usefully, and like a Man, but the Effect lies not so much in our Resolution as good Fortune. A thousand have proposed to themselves in Battle, either to overcome, or die, who have failed both in the one and the other: Wounds and Imprisonment crossing their Design, and compelling them to live against their Wills. There are Diseases that overthrew so much as our Desires, and our Knowledge. Fortune ought not to second the Vanity of the Roman Legions, who bound themselves by Oath, either to overcome▪ or die. Victor, Marce Fabi, revertar ex acie: si fallo, Jovem patrem Gradivumque Martem, aliosque iratos invoco Deos. I will return (Marcus Fabius) a Conqueror from the Army: and if I fail, I wish the Indignation of Jove, Mars, and the other offended Gods, may light upon me. The Portuguese say, that in a certain Place of their Conquest of the Indies, they met with Soldiers who had damned themselves with horrible Execrations, to enter into no other Composition, but either to cause themselves to be slain, or to remain Victorious; and had their Heads and Beards shaved in token of this Vow. 'Tis to much purpose for us to hazard ourselves, and to be obstinate. It seems as if blows avoided those that present themselves too briskly to Danger; and do not willingly fall upon those who too willingly seek them, and so defeat them of their Design. Such there have been, after having tried all ways, not having been able with all their Endeavour to obtain the Favour of dying by the hand of the Enemy, have been constrained to make good their Resolution of bringing home the Honour of Victory, or of losing their Lives, to kill themselves even in the heat of Battle. Of which there are other Examples, but this is one. Philistus, General of the naval Army of Dionysius the younger against those of Syracuse, presented them Battle, which was sharply disputed, their Forces being equal. In which Engagement he had the better at the first, through his own Valour: but the Syracusans drawing about his Admiral Galley to environ him, after having done great things in his own Person to disengage himself, hoping for no relief, with his own hand took away that Life he had so liberally, and in vain, exposed to the Fury of the Enemy. Muley Moluck King of Fez, who won the Battle against Sebastian King of Portugal, so famous for the Death of three Kings, and by the transmission of that great Kingdom to the Crown of Castille; was extremely sick when the Portuguese entered in an hostile manner into his Dominions; and from that day forward grew worse and worse, still drawing nearer to, and foreseeing his end: Yet never did man better employ his own sufficiency more vigorously and bravely than he did upon this Occasion. He found himself too weak to undergo the Pomp and Ceremony of entering into his Camp, which after their manner is very Magnificent, and therefore resigned that Honour to his Brother; but that was also all of the Office of a General that he resigned, all the rest of greatest Utility and Necessity he most exactly and gloriously performed in his own Person; his body lying upon a Couch, but his Judgement and Courage upright and firm to his last gasp, and in some sort beyond it. He might have defeated his Enemy, indiscreetly advanced into his Dominions without striking a Blow; and it was a very unhappy Occurrence, that for want of a little Life or some body to substitute in the Conduct of this War, and the Affairs of a troubled State, he was compelled to seek a doubtful and bloody Victory, having another by a better and surer way already in his hands. Notwithstanding he wonderfully managed the continuance of his Sickness in consuming the Enemy, and in drawing them far from the assistance of the Naval Army they had in the Ports of Africa, even till the last day of his Life, which he designedly reserved for this furious Battle. He ordered his Battle in a circular Form, environning the Portugal Army on every side, which round coming to close in the Wings, and to draw up close together, did not only hinder them in the Conflict (which was very sharp through the Valour of the young invading King) considering they were every way to make a Front, but prevented their Flight after the Defeat, so that finding all Passages possessed and shut up by the Enemy, they were constrained to close up together again; coacervanturque non solum caede, sed etiam fuga, and there they were slain in heaps upon one another, leaving to the Conqueror a very bloody and entire Victory. Dying, he caused himself to be carried and hurried from place to place where most need was, and passing through the Files, encouraged the Captains and Soldiers one after another. But a corner of his Battle being broken, he was not to be held from mounting on Horseback with his Sword in his hand. He did his utmost to break from those about him, and to rush into the thickest of the Battle, they all the while withholding him, some by the Bridle, some by his Robe, and others by his Stirrups. This last Effort totally overwhelmed the little Life he had left, they again lay him upon his Bed; but coming to himself again, and starting out of his Swoon, all other faculties failing, to give his People notice that they were to conceal his Death (the most necessary command he had then to give, that his Soldiers might not be discouraged with the news) he exposed with his Finger upon his Mouth the ordinary sign of keeping silence. Who ever lived so long and so far in Death? whoever died more like a Man? The most extreme degree of entertaining Death, and the most natural, is to look upon it not only without astonishment but without care, continuing the wont course of Life even into it. As Cato did, who entertained himself in study, and went to sleep, having a violent and bloody one in his Heart, and the Weapon in his hand, with which he was resolved to dispatch himself.   

CHAP. XXII. Of Posts.  
I Have been none of the least able in this Exercise, which is proper for men of my pitch, short and well knit; but I give it over, it shakes us too much to continue long. I was just now reading, 
Post-horses first set up by Cyrus.  that King Cyrus, the better to have News brought him from all parts of the Empire, which was of a vast extent; caused it to be tried how far a Horse could go in a day without baiting, and at that distance appointed Stages and Men, whose business it was to have Horses always in readiness, to mount those who were dispatched away to him. And some say, that this swift way of posting, is equal to that of the flight of Cranes. Caesar says, that Lucius Vibulus Rufus, being in great haste to carry Intelligence to Pompey, rid Day and Night, still taking fresh Horses for the greater Diligence and Speed; and himself, as Suetonius reports, traveled a hundred miles a day in a hired Coach; but he was a furious Courier, from where the Rivers stopped his way, he always past them by swimming, without turning out of his way to look for either Bridge or Ford. Tiberius Nero, going to see his Brother Drusus, who was sick in Germany, travelled two hundred miles in four and twenty hours, having three Coaches. In the War the Romans had against King Antiochus, T. Sempronius Gracchus, says Livy, 
Livius.  Per dispositos equos propè incredibili celeritate ab Amphissa tertio die Pellam pervenit. Upon Horses purposely laid in, he by an almost incredible speed, rid in three days from Amphissa to Pella. And it appears there, that they were established Posts, and not Horses purposely laid in upon this Occasion. Cecinna's Invention to send back News to his Family, was much more quick, for he took Swallows along with him from home, and turned them out towards their Nests when he would send back any News; setting a mark of some colour upon them to signify his meaning, according to what he and his People had before agreed upon. At the Theatre at Rome, 
Pigeons taught to carry Letters.  Masters of Families carried Pigeons in their Bosoms, to which they tied Letters, when they had a mind to send any Orders to their People at home; and the Pigeons were trained up to bring back an Answer. D. Brutus made use of the same Device, when besieged in Mutina, and others elsewhere have done the same. In Peru, they rid post upon men's shoulders, who took them upon their shoulders in a certain kind of Litter made for that purpose, and ran with such Agility, that in their full speed, the first Couriers throw their load to the second, without making any stop; and so on. I understand that the Null, who are the grand Signiors Couriers, perform wonderful Diligences, by reason they have Liberty to dismount the first they meet upon the road, giving him their own tired Horses; to preserve themselves from being weary, they gird themselves strait about the middle with a broad Girdle, but I could never find any benefit by it.   

CHAP. XXIII. Of ill means employed to a good end.  
THere is wonderful Relation and Correspondence in this universal Government of the Works of Nature, which very well makes it appear that it is neither accidental, nor carried on by divers Masters. The Diseases and Conditions of our Bodies is in like manner manifest in Estates, and the various Governments of the World. Kingdoms and Republics are founded, flourish, and decay with Age as we do. We are subject to a repletion of Humours either useless or dangerous, either of those that are good (for even those the Physicians are afraid of: and being that we have nothing in us that is permanent, they say that a too brisk and vigorous perfection of Health, must be abated by Art, lest being that our Nature cannot rest in any certain condition, and not having whither to rise to mend itself, it makes too sudden and too disorderly a Retreat; and therefore prescribe Wrestlers to purge and bleed, to qualify that superabundant Health) or else a Repletion of evil Humours, which is the ordinary cause of Sickness. Estates are very often sick of the like Repletion, and therefore sorts of Purgations have commonly been used. Sometimes a great multitude of Families are turned out to clear the Country; who seek out new Abodes elsewhere, and encroach upon others. After this manner our ancient Francs came from the remotest part of Germany to seize upon Gaul, and to drive thence the first Inhabitants; so was that infinite deluge of Men made up that came into Italy under the Conduct of Brennus, and others: so the Goths and Vandals; also the People who now possess Greece, left their native Country, to go settle elsewhere where they might have more room; and there is scarce two or three little corners of the World that have not felt the effect of such Removals. The Romans by this means erected their Colonies, for perceiving their City to grow immeasurably populous, they eased it of the most unnecessary People, and sent them to inhabit and cultivate the Lands by them conquered: sometimes also they purposely maintained Wars with some of their Enemies, not only to keep their men in action, for fear lest Idleness, the Mother of Corruption, should bring upon them some worse inconvenience; 


Juvenal. sat. 6.  Et patimur longae pacis mala, saevior armis  
Luxuria incumbit.   

We suffer th' ills of a long Peace, by far  
Greater, and more pernicious than War.   but also to serve for a Blood-letting to their Republic, and a little to evaporate the too vehement heat of their Youth, to prune and cleanse the Branches from the Stock too luxuriant in Wood; and to this end it was, that they formerly maintained so long a War with Carthage. In the Treaty of Bretigny, Edward the third, King of England, would not, in the general Peace he then made with our King, comprehend the Controversy about the Duchy of Britain, that he might have a Place wherein to discharge himself of his Soldiers, and that the vast number of English he had brought over to serve him in that Expedition, might not return back into England. And this also was one reason why our King Philip consented to send his Son John that Foreign Expedition, that he might take along with him a great number of hot Youngmen that were then in his Pay. There are many in our Times who talk at this rate, wishing that this hot Emotion that is now amongst us, might discharge itself in some neighbouring War, for fear lest all the peccant Humours that now reign in this politic Body of ours, may not diffuse themselves farther, keep the Fever still in the height, and at last cause our total Ruin; and in truth a Foreign is much more supportable than a Civil War; but I do not believe that God will favour so unjust a design, as to offend and quarrel others for our own advantage. 

Nil mihi tam valde placeat Rhamnusia virgo, 
Catullus.   
Quod temere invitis suscipiatur heris.   

In War that does invade fewer right,  
Whose end is plunder, I take no delight.   And yet the weakness of our condition does often push us upon the necessity of making use of ill means to a good end. Lycurgus, the most virtuous and perfect Legislator that ever was, invented this unjust practice of making the Helotes, who were there Slaves, drunk by force, by so doing to teach his People Temperance, to the end that the Spartiates seeing them so overwhelmed and buried in Wine, might abhor the excess of this beastly Vice. And yet they were more too blame, who of old gave leave that Criminals, to what sort of death soever condemned, should be cut up alive by the Physicians, that they might make a true discovery of our inward parts, and build their Art upon greater certainty: for if we must run into excesses, 'tis more excusable to do it for the health of the Soul, than that of the Body; as the Romans trained up the People to Valour, and the contempt of Dangers, and Death, by those furious Spectacles of Gladiators and Fencers, who being to fight it out to the last, cut, mangled, and killed one another in their Presence: 


Prudentius.  Quid vesani aliud sibi vult ars impia ludi,  
Quid mortes juvenum, quid sanguine pasta voluptas?   

Of such inhuman sports what further use?  
What Pleasure can slaughters of men produce?   and this custom continued till the Emperor Theodosius his time. 


Ibid.  Arripe dilatam tua dux in tempora famam,  
Quodque patris superest successor laudis habeto:  
Nullus in Vrbe cadat, cujus sit poena Voluptas,  
Jam solis contenta feris infamis arena,  
Nulla cruentatis homicidia ludat in armis.   

Prince, take the Honours destined for thy Reign,  
Inherit of thy Father those remain,  
Henceforth let none at Rome for sport be slain.  
Let beast's Blood slain th' infamous Theatre,  
And no more Homicides be acted there.   It was in truth a wonderful Example, and of great advantage for the training up the People, to see every day before their Eyes a hundred, two hundred, nay, a thousand couples of Men armed against one another, cut one another to pieces with so great a constancy of Courage, that they were never heard to utter so much as one syllable of Weakness or Commiseration; never seen to turn their back, nor so much as to make one cowardly step to evade a Blow, but rather expose their Necks to the Adversaries Sword, and present themselves to receive the stroke. And many of them, when wounded to Death, have sent to ask the Spectators if they were satisfied with their behaviour, before they lay down to die upon the Place. It was not enough for them to Fight and to Die bravely, but cheerfully too; insomuch that they were hissed and cursed if they made any Dispute about receiving their Death. The very Maids themselves set them on. 

— consurgit ad ictus: 
Idem.   
Et quoties victor ferrum jugulo inserit, illa.  
Delicias ait esse suas, pectusque jacentis  
Virgo modesta jubet converso pollice rumpi.   

The modest Virgin is delighted so  
With the fell sport, that she applauds the blow,  
And when the Victor baths his bloody brand  
In's fellow's Throat, and lays him on the sand,  
Then she's most pleased, and shows by signs she'd fain  
Have him rip up the bosom of the slain.   The first Romans only condemned Criminals to this Example: but they have since employed innocent Slaves in the work, and even Freemen too, who sold themselves to this effect: nay moreover, Senators and Knights of Rome: and also Women; 

Nunc caput in mortem vendunt, & funus arenae, 
Manil.   
Atque hostem sibi quisque parat cum bella quiescunt.   

They sell themselves to death, and since the Wars  
Are ceased, each for himself a Foe prepares.   


Statius.  Hos inter fremitus, novosque lusus,  
Stat sexus rudis, insciusque ferri,  
Et pugnat capit improbus viriles.   

Amidst these Tumults and Alarms  
The tender Sex, unskilled in Arms,  
Immodestly will try their mights,  
And now engaged in manly Fights.   which I should think strange and incredible, if we were not accustomed every day to see in our own Wars many thousands of men of other Nations, for Money to stake their Blood and their Lives in Quarrels wherein they have no manner of concern.   

CHAP. XXIV. Of the Roman Grandeur.  
I will only say a word or two of this infinite Argument, to show the simplicity of those who compare the pitiful Grandeurs of these Times to that of Rome. In the seventh Book of Cicero's Familiar Epistles (and let the Grammarians put out that surname of Familiar if they please, for in truth it is not very proper; and they who in stead of familiar have substituted ad familiares, may gather something to justify them for so doing, out of what Suetonius says in the Life of Caesar, that he had a Volume of Letters of his ad familiares) there is one directed to Caesar, being then in Gaul, wherein Cicero repeats these words, which were in the end of another Letter that Caesar had writ to him: As to what concerns Marcus Furius, whom you have recommended to me, I will make him King of Gaul, and if you would have me advance any other Friend of yours send him to me. It was no new thing for a simple Citizen of Rome, as Caesar then was, to dispose of Kingdoms, for he took away that of King Deiotarus from him, to give it to a Gentleman of the City of Pergamum, called Mithridates. And they who writ his Life, record several Cities by him sold; and Suetonius says, that he had once from King Ptolemy three millions and six hundred thousand Crowns, which was very near selling him his own Kingdom. 

Tot Galatae, tot Pontus, tot Lidia nummis. 
Claud.    

Such sums of Money did he raise as these  
From Pontus, Lydia, and the Galatees.   Marcus Antonius said, that the Grandeur of the People of Rome was not so much seen in what they took, as in what they gave. And indeed some Ages before Antonius, they had dethroned one amongst the rest with so wonderful Authority, that in all the Roman History I have not observed any thing that more denotes the height of their Power. Antiochus' possessed all Egypt, and was moreover ready to conquer Cyprus, and other Appendices of that Empire; when being upon the progress of his Victories, C. Popilius came to him from the Senate, and at their first meeting refused to take him by the Hand, till he had first read his Letters, which after the King had read, and told him he would consider of them, Popilius made a Circumference about him with the stick he had in his hand, saying, Return me an Answer, that I may carry it back to the Senate before thou stirrest out of this Circle. Antiochus, astonished at the roughness of so positive a Command, after a little Pause, replied, I will obey the Senate's Command; and than it was that Popilius saluted him as a Friend to the People of Rome. After having quitted Claim to so great a Monarchy, and in such a Torrent of successful Fortune, upon three words in writing, in earnest he had Reason, as he afterwards did, to send the Senate word by his Ambassadors, that he had received their Order with the same respects, as if he had been sent by the Immortal Gods. All the Kingdoms that Augustus gained by the right of War, he either restored to those who had lost them, or presented them to strangers. And Tacitus, in reference to this, speaking of Cogidunus King of England, gives us a very brisk touch of that infinite Power: The Romans, says he, were from all Antiquity accustomed to leave the Kings they had subdued in possession of their Kingdoms under their Authority, that they might have even Kings to be their Slaves: Vt haberent instrumenta servitutis, & reges. 'Tis like that Solyman, whom we have seen make a Gift of Hungary, and other Principalities, had therein more respect to this consideration, than to that he was wont to allege, viz. that he was glutted and overcharged with so many Monarchies, and so much Dominion, as his own Valour, and that of his Ancestors had acquired.   

CHAP. XXV. Not to counterfeit being sick.  
THere is an Epigram in Martial of very good Sense, for he has of all sorts, where he pleasantly tells the story of Celius, who, to avoid making his Court to some great Men of Rome, to wait their rising, and to attend them abroad, pretended to have the Gout; and the better to colour this Pretence, anointed his Legs, and had them lapped up in a great many Clouts and Swathing, and perfectly counterfeited both the Gesture and Countenance of a gouty Person; till in the end, Fortune did him the kindness to make him one indeed. 

Tantum cura potest & ars doloris, 
Mart. Epig. 28. lib. 1.   
Desiit fingere Caelius podagram.   

The power of counterfeiting is so great,  
Caelius has ceased the Gout to counterfeit.   I think I have read somewhere in Appian a story like this, of one who to escape the Proscriptions of the Triumvirs of Rome, and the better to be concealed from the discovery of those who pursued him, having shaded himself in a Disguise, would yet add this Invention to counterfeit having but one Eye; but when he came to have a little more liberty, and went to take off the Plaster he had a great while worn over his Eye, he found he had totally lost the Sight of it indeed, and that it was absolutely gone. 'Tis possible that the Action of Sight was dulled, for having been so long without exercise, and that the Optic power was wholly retired into the other Eye: For we evidently perceive, that the Eye we keep shut, sends some part of its virtue to its fellow, so that the remaining Eye will swell and grow bigger; as also Idleness, with the heat of Ligatures and Plasters, might very well have brought some gouty Humour upon this dissembler of Martial. Reading in Froisard the Vow of a Troop of young English Gallants, to carry their left Eyes bound up till they were arrived in France, and had performed some notable Exploit upon us; I have oft been tickled with the conceit of it, in befalling them as it did the before named Roman, and that they had returned with but an Eye a piece to their Mistresses, for whose sakes they had entered into this ridiculous Vow. Mother's have reason to rebuke their Children when they sergeant having but one Eye, Squinting, Lameness, or any other Personal defect; for besides that their Bodies being then so tender may be subject to take an ill bent, Fortune, I know not how, sometimes seems to delight in taking us at our word; and I have heard several Examples related of People who have become really sick, by only feigning to be so. I have always used, whether on Horseback, or on foot, to carry a stick in my hand, and so as to affect doing it with a Grace. Many have threatened that this wantonness would one day be turned into necessity, that is, that I should be the first of my Family that should have the Gout. But let us a little lengthen this Chapter, and eech it with a piece of another colour, concerning Blindness. Pliny reports of one, that once dreaming he was Blind, finding himself in the Morning so indeed, without any preceding infirmity in his Eyes. The force of Imagination might assist in this Case, as I have said elsewhere, and Pliny seems to be of the same Opinion; but it is more likely that the motions which the Body felt within (of which Physicians if they please may find out the cause,) which took away his Sight, were the occasions of his Dream. Let us add another story, not very improper for this Subject, which Seneca relates in one of his Epistles. You know, says he, writing to Lucullus, that Harpate, my Wife's Fool, is thrown upon me as an hereditary charge, for I have naturally an aversion to those Monsters; and if I have a mind to laugh at a Fool, I need not seek him far, I can laugh at myself. This Fool has suddenly lost her sight. I tell you a strange, but a very true thing; she is not sensible that she is blind, but eternally importunes her keeper to take her abroad, because she says the House is dark: I pray believe, that what we laugh at in her, happens to every one of us: no one knows himself to be avaricious. Besides, the blind call for a Guide, but we stray of our own accord. I am not ambitious, we say, but a man cannot live otherwise at Rome: I am not wasteful, but the City requires a great expense: 'tis not my fault if I am choleric, and if I have not yet established any certain course of Life, 'tis the fault of Youth. Let us not seek our Disease out of ourselves, 'tis in us, and planted in our Bowels. And even this, that we do not perceive ourselves to be sick, renders us more hard to be cured. If we do not betimes begin to dress ourselves, when shall we have done with so many Wounds and Evils wherewith we abound? And yet we have a most sweet and charming Medicine of Philosophy; for of all the rest we are sensible of no Pleasure till after the Cure: this pleases and heals at once. This is what Seneca says, that has carried me from my Subject, but there is advantage in the change.   

CHAP. XXVI. Of Thumbs.  
TAcitus reports, that amongst certain Barbarian Kings, their manner was, when they would make a firm Obligation, to join their hands close to one another, and twist their Thumbs, and when by force of straining the Blood it appeared in the ends, they lightly pricked them with some sharp Instrument, and mutually sucked them. Physicians say, that the Thumbs are the master Fingers of the Hand, and that their Latin Etymology is derived from Pollere. The Greeks called them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as who should say, another hand. And it seems that the Latins also sometimes take it in this sense for the whole hand; 
Sed nec vocibus excitata blandis, 
Mart. l. 12. Epig   
Molli pollice nec rogata surgit.  It was at Rome a Signification of Favour to depress and clap in the Thumbs; 

Fautor utroque tuum laudabit pollice ludum. 
Hora. l. 1. Ep. 18.    

Thy Patron, when thou mak'st thy sport,  
Will with both Thumbs applaud thee for't.   and of disfavour to elevate and thrust them outward: 

— converso pollice vulgi 
Juven. Sat. 3.   
Quemlibet occidunt populariter.   

The Vulgar with reverted Thumbs,  
Kill each one that before them comes.   The Romans exempted from War all such as were maimed in the Thumbs, as having no more sufficient strength to hold their Arms. Augustus confiscated the Estate of a Roman Knight, who had maliciously cut off the Thumbs of two young Children he had, to excuse them from going into the Armies: and before him, the Senate, in the time of the Italic War, had condemned Caius Valienus to perpetual Imprisonment, and confiscated all his Goods, for having purposely cut off the Thumb of his left hand, to exempt himself from that Expedition. Some one, I have forgot who, having won a Naval Battle, cut off the Thumbs of all his vanquished Enemies, to render them incapable of fight, and of handling the Oar. The Athenians also caused the Thumbs of those of Aegina to be cut off, to deprive them of the preference in the Art of Navigation. And in Lacedemonia, Pedagogues chastised their Scholars by biting their Thumbs.   

CHAP. XXVII. Cowardice the Mother of Cruelty.  
I Have oft heard it said, that Cowardice is the Mother of Cruelty: and I have found by experience, that that malicious and inhuman animosity and fierceness, is usually accompanied with a feminine faintness. I have seen the most cruel People, and upon very frivolous occasions, very apt to cry. Alexander, the Tyrant of Pheres, durst not be a Spectator of Tragedies in the Theatre, for fear lest his Citizens should see him weep at the Misfortunes of Hecuba and Andromache; who himself caused so many People every day to be murdered without pity. Is it not meanness of Spirit that renders them so pliable to all Extremities? Valour (whose Effect is only to be exercised against resistance) 


Claud.  Nec nisi bellantis gaudet cervice juvenci.   

— neither unless he fight  
In conquering a Bull does take delight.   stops when it sees the Enemy at its mercy; but Pusillanimity, to say that it was also in the Action, not having dared to meddle in the first act of Danger, rushes into the second of Blood and Massacre. For the execution in Victories is commonly performed by the rascality and hangers on of an Army, and that which causes so many unheard of Cruelties in domestic Wars, is, that the hottest of the People are fleshed in being up to the Elbows in Blood, and ripping up Bodies that lie prostrate at their feet, having no sense of any other Valour. 

Et Lupus, & turpes instant morientibus ursi, 
Ovid Trist. lib. 3. Eleg. 5.   
Et quaecunque minor nobilitate fera est.   

None but the Wolves, the filthy Bears, and all  
The base Beasts, will in the dying fall.   Like cowardly House-curs, that in the House worry and tear the Skins of wild Beasts they durst not come near in the Field. What is it in these times of ours that causes our mortal quarrels? And that whereas our Fathers had some degree of revenge in their days, we now begin with the last in ours, and that at the first meeting nothing is to be said but kill? What is this but Cowardice? Every one is sensible, that there is more bravery and disdain in subduing an Enemy, than in cutting his Throat; and in making him yield, than in putting him to the Sword: besides that, the appetite of Revenge is better satisfied and pleased because it's only aim ●s to make itself felt. And this is the reason why we do not fall upon a Beast or a Stone when they hurt us, because they are not capable of being sensible of our Revenge; and therefore to kill a man, is to defend him from the Injury and Offence we intent him. And as Bias cried out to a wicked Fellow, I know that sooner or later thou wilt have thy Reward, but I am afraid I shall not see it. And as the Orchomenians complained, that the Penitence of Lyciscus for the Treason committed against them, came in season, because there was no one remaining alive of those who had been interested in the Offence, and whom the Pleasure of this Penitency should affect: so Revenge is to be repent of, when the Person on whom it is executed is deprived of means of suffering under it: for as the Avenger will look on to enjoy the Pleasure of his Revenge, so the Person on whom he takes Revenge, should be a Spectator too, to be afflicted, and to repent. He will repent it, we say, and because we have given him a Pistol-shot through the Head, do we imagine he will repent? On the contrary, if we but observe, we shall find, that he makes a Mouth at us in falling: and is so far from penitency, that he does not so much as repine at us. And we do him the kindest Office of Life, which is to make him die insensibly, and soon. We are afterwards to hide ourselves, and to shift and fly from the Officers of Justice, who pursue us whilst he is at rest. Killing is good to frustrate an Offence to come, not to revenge one that is already past: and more an Act of Fear than Bravery; of Precaution, than Courage, and of Defence than of attempt. It is manifest that by it we quit both the true end of Revenge, and the care of our Reputation; we are afraid if he lives he will do us another injury as great as the first; 'tis not out of Animosity to him, but care of thyself, that thou rid'st him out of the way. 
Duels common in the Kingdom of Narsingua.  In the Kingdom of Narsingua this expedient would be useless to us, where not only Soldiers, but Tradesmen also end their Differences by the Sword. The King never denies the Field to any that will fight; and sometimes when they are Persons of Quality, looks on, rewarding the Victor with a Chain of Gold; but for which any one that will may fight with him again: by which means, by having come off from one Combat, he has engaged himself in many. If we thought by Virtue to be always Masters of our Enemies, and to triumph over them at pleasure, we should be sorry they should escape from us as they do, by dying: but we have a mind to conquer more with Safety than Honour, and in our quarrel, more pursue the end than the Glory. Asinius Pollio, who, 
Pollio's Libel against Plancus.  for being a worthy man, was the less to be excused, committed a like Error, who having writ a Libel against Plancus, forbore to publish it, till he was first dead: which is to bite a man's Thumb at a blind man, to rail at one that is deaf, and to wound a man that has no feeling, rather than to run the hazard of his Resentment. And it was also said in his behalf, that it was only for Hobgoblins to wrestle with the dead. He that stays to see the Author die, whose Writings he intends to question, what does he say, but that he is foolish and troublesome? It was told Aristotle, that some one had spoken ill of him: let him do more, said he, let him whip me too, provided I am not there. 
The Lie revenged with a box of the Ear.  Our Fathers contented themselves to revenge an Injury with the lie, the lie with a box of the Ear, and so forward; they were valiant enough not to fear their Adversary both living, and provoked: We tremble for fear, so long as we see them on foot. And that this is so, does not our noble practice of these days, equally to prosecute to death both him that has offended us, and him we have offended, make it out? 'Tis also a kind of Cowardice that has introduced the custom of having seconds, thirds, and fourth's in our Duels. They were formerly Duels, they are now Skirmishes, Rencontres, and Battles. Solitude was doubtless terrible to those who were the first inventors of this Practice. Quum in se cuique minimum fiduciae esset. They had little confidence in themselves. For naturally any company whatever is comfortable in danger. Third Persons were formerly called in to prevent Disorder and foul play only, and to be witness of the Success of the Combat. But since they have brought it to this pa●● that they themselves engage, whoever is invited cannot handsomely stand by as an idle Spectator, for fear of being suspected either of want of Affection or Courage. Besides the injustice and unworthiness of such an Action, of engaging other Force and Valour in the Protection of your Honour than your own; I conceive it a disadvantage to a brave man, and who wholly relies upon himself, to shuffle his Fortune with that of a Second; since every one runs hazard enough in himself, without hazarding for another, and has enough to do to assure himself in his own Virtue for the defence of his Life, without intrusting a thing so dear in a third man's hand. For, if it be not expressly agreed upon before to the contrary, 'tis a combined Party of all four, and if your Second be killed, you have two to deal withal with good reason. And to say that it is foul play, it is so indeed, as it is well armed to charge a man that has but the hilts of a broken Sword in his hand, or clear and untouched a man that is desperately wounded: but if these be advantages you have got by fight, you may make use of them without reproach: the disparity and inequality is only weighed and considered from the condition of the Combatants when they begun, as to the rest, you must take your Fortune: and though you had alone three Enemies upon you at once, your two Companions being killed, you have no more wrong done you, than I should do in a Battle, by running a man through I should see engaged with one of our own men with the like advantage. The nature of Society will have it so, that where there is Troop against Troop (as where our Duke of Orleans challenged Henry King of England an hundred against an hundred: three hundred against as many as the Argians against the Lacedæmonians, and three to three, as the Horatij against the Curiatij) the multitude on either side is considered but as one single man, the hazard every where, where there is company, being confused and mixed. I have a domestic Interest in this Discourse; for my Brother, the Sieur de Matecoulom, was at Rome entreated by a Gentleman with whom he had no great acquaintance, and who was Defendant, and challenged by another, to be his Second; In this Duel he found himself matched with a Gentleman much better known to him, where, after having dispatched his man, seeing the two Principal still on foot, and sound, he ran in to disengage his Friend. What could he do less? should he have stood still, and if Chance would have ordered it so, have seen him he was come thither to defend killed before his face, what he had thither done signified nothing to the Business, the Quarrel was yet undecided. The courtesy that you can, and certainly aught to show to your Enemy, when you have reduced him to an ill Condition, and have a great advantage over him, I do not see how you can do it, where the Interest of another is in the case, where you are only called in as an Assistant, and the Quarrel is none of yours. He could neither be just nor courteous at the hazard of him he was there to serve; and was also enlarged from the Prisons of Italy at the speedy and solemn request of our King. Indiscreet Nation! we are not content to make our Vices and Follies known to the World by Report only, but we must go into Foreign Countries, there to show them what Fools we are. Put three Frenchmen into the Deserts of Libya, they will not live a Month together without fight; so that you would say this Peregrination were a thing purposely designed to give Strangers the pleasures of our Tragedies, and for the most part such as rejoice and laugh at our miseries. We go into Italy to learn to fence, and fall to practise at the expense of our Lives before we have learned it: and yet, by the order of Discipline, we should put the Theory before the Practice. We discover ourselves to be but Learners. 

Primitiae juvenum miserae, 
Eneid. l. 11.  bellique futuri  
Dura rudimenta.—   

Of Youth the first Instructions painful are,  
And hard the Rudiments of future War.   I know Fencing is an Art very useful to its end, (in a Duel betwixt two Princes, Cousin-germen in Spain, the elder, says Livy, by his skill and dexterity in Arms, easily surmounting the greater and more awkward Strength of the younger) and of which, the knowledge, as I experimentally know, hath inspired some with Courage above their natural Talon: but this is not properly Valour, because it supports itself upon Address, and is founded upon something besides itself. The honour of Combat consists in the jealousy of Courage, and not of Skill; and therefore I have known a Friend of mine, famed for a great Master in this Exercise, in his Quarrels make choice of such Arms as might deprive him of this advantage, and that wholly depended upon Fortune, and assurance, that they might not attribute his Victory rather to his skill in Fencing than his Valour. When I was young, Gentlemen avoided the reputation of good Fencers, as injurious to them; and learned with all imaginable privacy to fence, as a Trade of subtlety, derogating from true and natural Virtue.  


Tasso. Can. 12.  Non schivar, non parar, non ritirarsi,  
Voglion costor, ne qui destrezza ha part,  
Non danno i colpi finti hor pieni, hor scarsi,  
Toglie l'ira e il furor l'uso de l' arte,  
O di le spade horribilment urtarsi  
Amezzo, il ferro, il pie d'orma non parte,  
Sempre è il pie fermo, è la man sempre in moto,  
Ne scende taglio in van ne punta à voto.   


Mr. Fairfax.  They neither shrank, nor vantage sought of ground,  
They traversed not, nor skipped from part to part,  
Their blows were neither false, nor feigned found,  
The night, their rage would let them use no Art,  
Their Swords together clash with dreadful sound,  
Their feet stand fast, and neither stir nor start,  
They move their hands, steadfast their feet remain,  
Nor blow, nor foin they struck, or thrust in vain.   
Butts, Tilting, and Barriers, the images of Warlike Fights, were the Exercises of our Forefathers: this other Exercise is so much the less noble, as it only respects a private end, that teaches us to ruin one another, against Law and Justice, and that every way always produces very ill effects. It is much more worthy, and more becoming, to exercise ourselves in things that strengthen, than that weaken our Governments, and that tend to the public safety and common glory. Publius Rutilius Consus was the first that taught the Soldiers to handle their Arms with skill, and joined Art to Virtue: not for the use of private quarrel, but for War, and the Quarrels of the People of Rome. A popular and civil Art of Defence. And besides the example of Caesar, who commanded his men to shoot chiefly at the face of Pompey's Gensdarmes in the Battle of Pharsalia: a thousand other Commanders have also unbethought them to invent new forms of Weapons, and new ways of striking and defending, according as occasion shall require. But as Philopaemen condemned wrestling, wherein he excelled, because the preparatives that were therein employed were differing from those that appertain to Military Discipline, to which alone he conceived men of Honour ought wholly to apply themselves; so it seems to me, that this Address to which we form our Limbs, those Writings and Motions young men are taught in this new School, are not only of no Use, but rather contrary and hurtful to the manner of fight in Battle: and also our People commonly make use of particular Weapons, and peculiarly designed for Duel. And I have known when it has been disapproved, that a Gentleman challenged to fight with Rapier and Poignard, should appear in the equipage of a man at Arms; or that another should take his Cloak instead of a Poignard. It is worthy of Consideration, that Lachez in Plato, speaking of learning to fence after our manner, says, that he never knew any great Soldier come out of that School, especially the Masters of it: and indeed as to them our own experience tells us as much. As to the rest, we may at least conclude, that they are Qualities of no Relation nor Correspondence. And in the Education of the Children of his Government, 
The Art of cuffing interdicted by Plato.  Plato interdicts the Art of Cuffing, introduced by Amicus and Epeius, and that of Wrestling by Antaeus and Cecyo, because they have another end than to render Youth fit for the service of War, and contribute nothing to it. But I see I am too far strayed from any Theme. The Emperor Maurice, being advertised by Dreams and several Prognostics, that one Phocas, an obscure Soldier, should kill him; questioned his Son-in-Law Philip, who this Phocas was, and what was his Nature, Qualities and Manners; and so soon as Philip, amongst other things, had told him, that he was cowardly and timorous, the Emperor immediately thence concluded that he was then a Murderer and cruel. 
Cowards naturally cruel and bloody.  What is it that makes Tyrants so bloody? 'Tis only the solicitude of their own Safety, and that their faint Hearts can furnish them with no other means of securing themselves, than in exterminating those that may hurt them, even so much as to Woman, for fear of a scratch. 

Cuncta ferit, dum cuncta timet. 
Claud.    

He strikes at all, who every one does fear.   The first Cruelties are exercised for themselves: from thence springs the fear of a just Revenge, which afterwards produces a series of new Cruelties, to obliterate one another. Philip King of Macedon, who had so much to do with the People of Rome, agitated with the horror of so many Murders committed by his appointment, and doubting of being able to keep himself secure from so many Families, at divers times mortally injured and offended by him; resolved to seize all the Children of those he had caused to be slain, to dispatch them daily one after another, and so to establish his own repose. Fine Discourses are never impertinent however placed; and therefore I, who more consider the weight and utility of what I deliver than their Order and Connexion, need not fear in this place to bring in a fine story, though it be a little by the buy; for when they are rich in their own native Beauty, and are able to justify themselves, the least end of a Hair will serve to draw them into my Argument. Amongst others condemned by Philip, Herodicus, Prince of Thessaly, had been one. He had moreover after him caused his two Sons in Law to be put to Death, each leaving a Son very young behind him. Theoxena▪ and Archo, were their two Widows. Theoxena, though highly courted to it, could not be persuaded to marry again: Archo married Poris, the greatest Man of the Aenians, and by him had a great many Children, which she dying, left in a very tender Age. Theoxena, moved with a Maternal charity towards her Nephews, that she might have them under her own Eyes, and in her own Protection, married Poris: when presently comes a Proclamation of the King's Edict. This brave spirited Mother, suspecting the cruelty of Philip, and afraid of the Insolence of the Soldiers towards these fine and tender Children, was so bold as to declare, that she would rather kill them with her own hands than deliver them. Poris, startled at this Protestation, promised her to steal them away, and to Transport them to Athens, and there commit them to the Custody of some faithful Friends of his. They took therefore the opportunity of an Annual Feast which was celebrated at Aenia in Honour of Aeneas, and thither they went. Having appeared by day at the Public Ceremonies, and Banquet, they stole the Night following into a Vessel laid ready for the purpose, to escape away by Sea. The Wind proved contrary, and finding themselves in the Morning within sight of the Land from whence they had launched overnight, were made after by the Guards of the Port: which Poris perceiving, he laboured all he could to make the Mariners do their utmost to escape from the Pursuers. But Theoxena, frantic with Affection and Revenge, in pursuance of her former Resolution, prepared both Arms and Poison, and exposing them before them; Go to, my Children, said she, Death is now the only means of your Defence and Liberty, and shall administer occasion to the Gods to exercise their sacred Justice: These sharp Swords, and these full Cups, will open you the way into it: Courage, fear nothing. And thou, my Son, who art the eldest, take this Steel into thy Hand, that thou may'st the more bravely Dye. The Children having on one side so powerful a Counsellor, and the Enemy at their Throats on the other, ran all of them eagerly upon what was next to hand; and half dead, were thrown into the Sea. Theoxena, proud of having so gloriously provided for the safety of her Children, clasping her Arms with great affection about her Husband's Neck, Let us, my Friend, said she, follow these Boys, and enjoy the same Sepulchre they do: And so embraced, threw themselves headlong overboard into the Sea; so that the Ship was carried back empty of the Owners into the Harbour. Tyrants, at once both to kill and to make their Anger felt, have pumped their Wit to invent the most lingering Deaths. They will have their Enemies dispatched, but not so fast that they may not have leisure to taste their Vengeance. And therein they are mightily perplexed, for if the Torments they inflict are violent, they are short, if long, they are not then so painful as they desire; and thus torment themselves in contriving how to torment others. Of this we have a thousand Examples of Antiquity, and I know not whether we unawares do not retain some traces of this Barbarity: all that exceeds a simple Death appears to me absolute Cruelty; neither can our Justice expect, that he, whom the fear of being executed by being Beheaded or Hanged, will not restrain, should be any more awed by the imagination of a languishing Fire, burning Pincers, or the Wheel. And I know not in the mean time, whether we do not throw them into despair; for in what condition can the Soul of a man, expecting four and twenty hours together to be broken upon a Wheel, or after the old way, nailed to a Cross, be? Josephus relates, that in the time of the War the Romans made in Judea; happening to pass by where they had three days before crucified certain Jews, he amongst them knew three of his own Friends, and obtained the favour of having them taken down, of which, two he says died, the third lived a great while after. Chalcondilas, a Writer of good credit, in the Records he has left behind him of things that happened in his time, and near him, tell us, as of the most excessive Torment, of that the Emperor Meckmed very often practised, of cutting off men in the middle by the Diaphragma with one blow of a Scimitar; by which it followed, that they died as it were two Deaths at once, and both the one part, says he, and the other, were seen to stir and strive a great while after in very great Torment. I do not think there was any great sufferance in this motion. The Torments that are the most dreadful to look on, are not always the greatest to endure; and I find those that other Historians relate to have been practised upon the Epirot Lords, to be more horrid and cruel, where they were condemned to be flayed alive by pieces, after so malicious a manner that they continued fifteen days in this misery. As also these other two following. Croesus, having caused a Gentleman, the favourite of his Brother Pantaleon, to be seized on, carried him into a Fuller's Shop, where he caused him to be scratched and carded with the Cards and Combs belonging to that Trade till he died. George Jechel, chief Commander of the Peasants of Polonia, who committed so many Mischiefs under the Title of the Crusado, being defeated in Battle, and taken by the Vayvod of Transylvania, was three days bound naked upon the Rack, exposed to all sorts of Torments that any one could contrive against him; during which time, many other Prisoners were kept fasting; in the end, he living, and looking on, they made his beloved Brother Lucat, for whom he only entreated, taking upon himself the blame of all their evil Actions, to drink his Blood, and caused twenty of his most favoured Captains to feed upon him, tearing his flesh in pieces with their Teeth, and swallowing the morsels. The remainder of his Body and his Bowels, so soon as he was dead, were boiled, and others of his followers compelled to eat them.   

CHAP. XXVIII. All things have their Season.  
SUch as compare Cato the Censor, with the younger Cato that killed himself, compare two beautiful Natures, and much resembling one another. The first acquired his Reputation several ways, and excels in Military Exploits, and the Utility of his public Vocations; but the Virtue of the younger, besides, that it were blasphemy to compare any to him in Vigour, was much more pure and unblemished. For who can acquit the Censor of Envy and Ambition, having dared to justle the Honour of Scipio, a man in Worth, Valour, and all other excellent Qualities infinitely beyond him, or any other of his time? That which they report of him, amongst other things, that in his extreme old Age he put himself upon learning the Greek Tongue, with so greedy an Appetite, as if to quench a long Thirst, does not seem to me to make much for his Honour; it being properly what we call being twice a Child. All things have their Season, even the best, and a man may say his Pater noster out of time; as they accused T. Quintus Flaminus, that being General of an Army, he was seen praying apart in the time of a Battle that he won. 


Juven. sat. 6.  Imponit finem sapiens, & rebus honestis.   

The wise man limits even decent things.   Eudemonidas, seeing Xenocrates when very old, still very intent upon his School-Lectures, When will this man be wise, said he, he does yet learn? And Philopaemen, to those who extolled King Ptolemy for every day inuring his Person to the Exercise of Arms; It is not, said he, commendable in a King of his Age to exercise himself in those things he ought now really to employ them. The young are to make their Preparations, the old to enjoy them, say the Sages: and the greatest Vice they observe in us is, that our Desires incessantly grow young again: we are always rebeginning to live. Our studies and desires should sometimes be sensible of Age; but we have one foot in the Grave, and yet our Appetites and Pursuits spring every day new upon us. 

Tu secanda marmora 
Hor. l. 2. Ode. 18.   
Locas sub ipsum funus, & sepulcri  
Immemor, struis domos.   

When Death perhaps is near at hand, 
Sir Thomas Hawkins▪   
Thou fairest Marbles dost command  
Be cut for use; yet dost neglect  
Thy Grave, and Houses still erect.   The longest of my Designs is not of above a years extent; I think of nothing now but ending, rid myself of all new Hopes and Erterprises; take my last leave of every place I depart from, and every day dispossess myself of what I have. Olim jam nec perit quicquam mihi, nec acquiritur: 
Sen. Epist.  plus superest viatici, quam viae. Henceforward I will neither lose, nor expect to get: I have more wherewith to defray my Journey, than I have way to go.  

Vixi, & quem dederat cursum fortuna peregi. 
Eneid. l. 4.    

I've lived, and finished the career  
Wherein my Fortune placed me here.   
To conclude, 'tis the only comfort I find in my old Age, that it mortifies in me several Cares and Desires wherewith my Life has been disturbed; the Care how the World goes, the Care of Riches, of Grandeur, of Knowledge, of Health, and myself. There are, who are learning to speak at a time when they should learn to be silent for ever. A man may always study, but he must not always go to School. What a contemptible thing is an old Schoolboy!  

Diversos diversa juvant, non omnibus annis.  

Gall. Eleg.  Omnia conveniunt.   

For several things do several men delight,  
And all things are not for all Ages right.   
If we must study, let us study what is suitable to our present Condition, that we may answer as he did, who being asked to what end he studied in his decrepit Age, 
What an old man's study ought to be.  that I may go out better, said he, and at greater ease. Such a study was that of the younger Cato, feeling his end approach, and which he met with in Plato's Discourse of the immortality of the Soul: Not as we are to believe that he was not long beforehand furnished with all sorts of Ammunition for such a Departure; for of assurance, an established Will and Instruction he had more than Plato had in all his Writings; his Knowledge and Courage were in this respect above Philosophy. He applied himself to this study, not for the Service of his Death, but as a man whose sleeps were never disturbed in the Importance of such a deliberation, he also without choice or change, continued his Studies with the other accustomary Actions of his Life. The Night that he was den the Praetorship, he spent in play. That wherein he was to die, he spent in reading. The loss either of Life or of Office, was all one to him.   

CHAP. XXIX. Of Virtue.  
I Find by experience, that there is a vast difference betwixt the starts and sallies of the Soul, and a resolute and constant habit; and very well perceive, that there is nothing we may not do, nay, even to the surpassing the Divinity itself, says a certain Person, forasmuch as it is more to render a man's self impassable by his own study and industry, than to be so by his natural condition; and even to be able to conjoin to man's imbecility and frailty a Godlike resolution and assurance. But it is by fits and starts; and in the Lives of those Heroes of Times passed there are sometimes miraculous Sallies, and that seem infinitely to exceed our natural force, but they are indeed but sallies: and 'tis hard to believe, that in these so elevated qualities a man can so thoroughly tinct and imbue the Soul, that they should become constant, and as it were, natural in him. It accidentally happens even to us, who are but abortive births of men, sometimes to dart out our Souls, when roused by the Discourses or Examples of others, much beyond their ordinary stretch; but 'tis a kind of Passion which does push and prick them on, and in some sort ravishes them from themselves: but this Whirlwind once blown over, we see that they insensibly flag, and slacken of themselves, if not to the lowest degree, at least so as to be no more the same; insomuch as that upon every trivial occasion, the losing of a Hawk, or the breaking of a Glass, we suffer ourselves to be moved little less than one of the common People. I am of opinion, that Order, Moderation, and Constancy excepted, all things are to be done by a man that is indifferent, and defective in general. Therefore it is, say the Sages, that to make a right judgement of a man, you are chiefly to pry into his common Actions, and surprise him in his every day habit. Pyrrho, he who erected so pleasant a knowledge upon Ignorance, endeavoured, as all the rest who were really Philosophers did, to make his Life correspond with his Doctrine. And because he maintained the imbecility of Humane Judgement to be so extreme as to be incapable of any choice or inclination, and would have it wavering and suspended, considering and receiving all things as indifferent, 'tis said, that he always comported himself after the same manner and countenance: if he had begun a Discourse, he would always end what he had to say, though the Person he was speaking to was gone away: and if he walked, he never stopped for any impediment that stood in his way, being preserved from Precipices, the justle of Carts, and other like accidents, by the care of his Friends: for, to fear, or to avoid any thing, had been to justle his own Propositions, which deprived the Senses themselves of all certainty and election. Sometimes he suffered Incisions and Cauteries with so great constancy, as never to be seen so much as to winch or stir. 'Tis something to bring the Soul to these imaginations, more to join the effects, and yet not impossible; but to conjoin them with such perseverance and constancy as to make them habitual, is certainly, in attempts so remote from the common usance, almost incredible to be done. Therefore it was, that being one day taken in his House terribly scolding with his Sister, and being reproached that he therein transgressed his own Rules of indifference; What, said he, must this foolish Woman also serve for a testimony to my Rules? Another time, being seen to defend himself against a Dog, It is, said he, very hard totally to put off man; and we must endeavour and force ourselves to resist and encounter things, first by Effects, but at least by Reason. About seven or eight years since, a Husbandman yet living, but two Leagues from my House, having long been tormented with his Wife's Jealousy, coming one day home from his work, and she welcoming him with her accustomed railing, entered into so great fury, that with a Sickle he had yet in his hand he totally cut off all those Parts that she was jealous of, and threw them in her face. And, 'tis said, that a young Gentleman of our Nation, brisk and amorous, having by his perseverance at last mollified the heart of a fair Mistress, enraged, that upon the point of fruition he found himself unable to perform, and that, 

Tib. lib. 4. Eleg. pen.  non viriliter  
Iners senile penis extulerat caput,  so soon as ever he came home he deprived himself of it, and sent it his Mistress, a cruel and bloody Victim for the expiation of his offence. If this had been done upon mature consideration, and upon the account of Religion, as the Priests of Cybele did, what should we say of so high an action? A few days since, at Bergerac, within five Leagues of my House, up the River Dordogne, a Woman having overnight been beaten and abused by her Husband, a choleric ill-conditioned fellow, resolved to escape from his ill usage at the price of her life; and going so soon as she was up the next morning to visit her Neighbours, as she was wont to do, and having let some words fall of the recommendation of her Affairs, she took a Sister of hers by the hand, and led her to the Bridge; whither being come, as it were in jest, without any manner of alteration in her Countenance, there taking leave of her, she threw herself headlong from the top into the River, and was there drowned. That which is the most remarkable in this, is, that this resolution was a whole night forming in her head: But it is quite another thing with the Indian Women, for it being the custom there for the men to have many Wives, and the best beloved of them to kill herself at her Husband's decease, every one of them makes it the Business of her whole Life to obtain this Privilege, and gain this Advantage over her Companions, and the good Offices they do their Husband's, aim at no other Recompense, but to be preferred in accompanying him in Death.  

Vbi mortifero jacta est fax ultima lecto, 
Propertius. l. 3. Eleg. 11.   
Vxorum fusis stat pia turba comis:  
Et certamen habent lethi quae viva sequatur  
Conjugium, pudor est non licuisse mori,  
Ardent victrices, & flammae pectora praebent,  
Imponuntque suis ora perusta viris.   

When to the pile they throw the kindling brand  
The pious Wives with Hair dishevelled stand,  
Striving which living shall accompany  
Her Spouse, and are ashamed they may not die,  
Who are preferred, their Breasts to flame expose,  
And their scorched Lips to their dead Husbands close.   
A certain Author of our times, Reports, that he has seen in those Oriental Nations this Custom in practice, that not only the Wives bury themselves with their Husbands, but even the Slaves he has enjoyed also; which is done after this manner: The Husband being dead, the Widow may if she will (but few will) demand two or three months' respite wherein to order her Affairs. The day being come, she mounts on Horseback, dressed as fine as at her Wedding, and with a cheerful Countenance says, she is going to sleep with her Spouse, holding a Looking-glass in her left hand, and an Arrow in the other. Being thus conducted in pomp, accompanied with her Kindred and Friends, and a great concourse of People, with great Joy, she is at last brought to the public Place appointed for such Spectacles: This is a spacious Place, in the midst of which is a Pit full of Wood, and adjoining to it a Mount raised four or five steps, upon which she is brought and served with a magnificent Repast; which being done, she falls to Dancing and Singing, and giveth order when she thinks fit to kindle the Fire; which being performed, she Descends, and taking the nearest of her Husband's Relations by the hand, they walk together to the River close by, where she strips herself stark naked, and having distributed her Clothes and Jewels to her Friends, plunges herself into the Water, as if there to cleanse herself from her Sins; coming out thence, she wraps herself in a yellow Linen of five and twenty els long, and again giving her hand to this Kinsman of her Husband's, they return back to the Mount, where she makes a Speech to the People, and recommends her Children to them, if she have any. Betwixt the Pit and the Mount, there is commonly a Curtain drawn to screen the burning Furnace from their sight, which some of them to manifest the greater Courage, forbid. Having ended what she has to say, a Woman presents her with a Vessel of Oil, wherewith to anoint her head, and her whole Body; which having done with, she throws into the Fire, and in an instant precipitates herself after. immediately the People throw a great many Billets and Logs upon her, that she may not be long in dying, and convert all their Joy into Sorrow and Mourning. If they are Persons of meaner Condition, the Body of the defunct is carried to the place of Sepulture, and there placed sitting, the Widow kneeling before him, embracing the dead Body; and continue in this posture whilst they build a Wall about them, which so soon as it is raised to the height of the Woman's Shoulders, some of her Relations comes behind her, and taking hold of her Head writhe her Neck in two, and so soon as she is dead, the Wall is presently raised up, and closed, where they remain entombed. There was in this same Country something like this in their Gymnosophist; 
The Gymnosophists voluntarily burnt.  for not by constraint of others, nor by the impetuosity of a sudden humour, but by the express Profession of their Order, their Custom was, that so soon as they arrived at a certain Age, or that they saw themselves threatened by any Disease, to cause a funeral Pile to be erected for them, and on the top a stately Bed, where, after having joyfully feasted their Friends and Acquaintance, they laid them down with so great Resolution, that Fire being applied to it, they were never seen to stir either Hand or Foot; and after this manner one of them, Calanus by Name, expired in the presence of the whole Army of Alexander the Great; and he was neither reputed holy, nor happy amongst them, that did not thus destroy himself; dismissing his Soul purged and purified by the Fire, after having consumed all that was earthy and mortal. This constant premeditation of the whole Life is that which makes the wonder. Amongst our other Controversies, that of Fatum is also crept in, and to tie things to come, and even our own Wills to a certain and inevitable Necessity, we are yet upon this Argument of time past; Since God foresees that all things shall so fall out, as doubtless he does, it must then necessarily follow, that they must so fall out: to which our Master's reply, that the seeing any thing come to pass, as we do, and as God himself also does, (for all things being present with him, he rather sees, than foresees) is not to compel an Event: that is, we see because things do fall out, but things do not fall out because we see. Events cause Knowledge, but Knowledge does not cause Events. That which we see happen, does happen; but it might have happened otherwise: and God, in the Catalogue of the Causes of Events which he has in his Prescience, has also those which we call accidental and unvoluntary, 
Causes of Events in the prescience of Almighty God.  which depend upon the Liberty he has given our free Will, and knows that we do amiss because we would do so. I have seen a great many Commanders encourage their Soldiers with this fatal Necessity; 
Fortuitou and voluntary Causes.  for if our time be limited to a certain hour, neither the Enemies shot, nor our own Boldness, nor our Flight and Cowardice, can either shorten or prolong our Lives. This is easily said, but see who will be so persuaded, and if it be so that a strong and lively Faith draws along with it Actions of the same, certainly this Faith we so much brag of, is very light in this Age of ours, unless the Contempt it has of Works, makes it disdain their Company. So it is, that to this very purpose the Sire de Joinville, as credible a Witness as any other whatever, tells us of the Bedoins, a Nation amongst the Saracens, with whom the King St. Lewis had to do in the Holy-land, that they in their Religion, did so firmly believe the number of every man's days to be from all eternity prefixed, and set down by an inevitable Decree, that they went naked to the Wars, excepting a Turkish Sword, and their Bodies only covered with a white Linen Cloth: and for the greatest Curse they could invent when they were angry, this was always in their Mouths, Accursed be thou, as he that arms himself for fear of Death. This is a Testimony of Faith very much beyond ours. And of this sort is that also that two Religious men of Florence gave in our Father's days. Being engaged in some Controversy of Learning, they agreed to go both of them into the Fire in the sight of all the People, each for the verification of his Argument, and all things were already prepared, and the things just upon the point of Execution, when it was interrupted by an unexpected accident. A young Turkish Lord, having performed a notable Exploit in his own Person in the sight of both Armies, that of Amurath, and that of Hunniades ready to join Battle, being asked by Amurath, who in so tender and unexperienced years (for it was his first sally into Arms) had inspired him with so brave a Courage, replied, that his chief Tutor for Valour was a Hare. For being, said he, one day a hunting, I found a Hare sitting, and though I had a brace of excellent Greyhounds with me, yet methought it would be best for sureness to make use of my Bow; for she sat very fair. I than fell to letting fly my Arrows, and shot forty that I had in my Quiver, not only without hurting, but without starting her from her form. At last I slipped my Dogs after her, but to no more purpose than I had shot: by which I understood, that she had been secured by her Destiny; and that neither Darts nor Swords can wound without the permission of Fate, which we can neither hasten nor defer. This Story which I am going to tell, may serve by the way to let us see how flexible our Reason is to all sorts of Images. A Person of great Years, Name, Dignity, and Learning, boasted to me to have been induced to a certain very important mutation in his Faith, by a strange, whimsical Incitation, and otherwise so very ill concluding, that I thought it much stronger being taken the contrary way: He called it a Miracle, I look upon it quite otherwise. The Turkish Historians say, that the persuasion those of their Nation have imprinted in them of the fatal and unalterable Prescription of their Days, does manifestly conduce to the giving them great assurance in Dangers; and I know a great Prince, who makes very fortunate use of it; whether it be that he does really believe it, or that he makes it his excuse, for so wonderfully hazarding himself, provided Fortune be not too soon weary of her Favour to him. There has not happened in our memory a more admirable effect of Resolution, than in those two who conspired the Death of the Prince of Orange. 'Tis to be wondered at, 
Assasination of the Prince of Orange.  how the second that executed it, could ever be persuaded into an attempt, wherein his Companion, who had done his utmost, had had so ill Success; and after the same Method, and with the same Arms, to go attaque a Lord, armed with a late Instruction of distrust, powerful in followers and bodily Strength, in his own Hall, amidst his Guards, and in a City wholly at his Devotion. He doubtless employed a very resolute Arm and a Courage inflamed with furious Passions: A Poignard is surer for striking home, but by reason that more motion and force of hand is required than with a Pistol, the Blow is more subject to be put by or hindered. That this man did not run to a certain Death, I make no great doubt; for the hopes any one could flatter him withal, could not find place in any sober Understanding, and the Conduct of his Exploit does sufficiently manifest that he had no want of that no more than of Courage. The motives of so powerful a Persuasion may be divers, for our fancy does what it will both with itself and us. 
The Duke of Guise.  The Execution that was done near Orleans was nothing like this, there was in that more of Chance than Vigour, the wound was not mortal, if Fortune had not made it so; and to attempt to shoot on Horseback, and at a great distance, and at one whose body was in motion by the moving of his Horse, was the attempt of a man who had rather miss his blow, than fail of saving himself: as was apparent by what followed after; for he was so astonished and stupefied with the thought of so high an Execution, that he totally lost his Judgement both to find his way and to govern his Tongue. What needed he to have done more than to fly back to his Friends cross a River? 'Tis what I have done in less Dangers, and that I think of very little hazard, how broad soever the River may be, provided your Horse have good going in, and that you see on the other side easy landing according to the stream. The other, when they pronounced his dreadful Sentence. I was prepared for this, said he, beforehand, and I will make you wonder at my Patience. The Assassins', a Nation bordering upon Phoenicia, are reputed amongst the Mahometans a People of very great Devotion, and purity of Manners. They hold that the nearest way to gain Paradise is to kill some one of a contrary Religion; which is the Reason they have often been seen, being but one or two, and without Arms, to attempt against powerful Enemies at the price of a certain Death, and without any Consideration of their own Danger. So was our Count Raimond of Tripoli assassinated (which Word is derived from their Name) in the heart of his City, during our Erterprises of the Holy War. And likewise Conrade, Marquis of Montferrat, the Murderers at their Execution carrying themselves with great Pride and Glory, that they had performed so brave an Exploit.   

CHAP. XXX. Of a monstrous Child.  
THis Story shall go by itself; for I will leave it to Physicians to Discourse of. Two days ago I saw a Child, that two Men and a Nurse, who said themselves to be the Father, the Uncle, and the Aunt of it, carried about to get money by showing it, by reason it was so strange a Creature. It was, as to all the rest of a common Form, and could stand upon its Feet, could go and gabble much like other Children of the same Age; it had never as yet taken any other nourishment but from the Nurse's Breasts, and what, in my Presence, they tried to put into the Mouth of it, it only chewed a little and spit it out again without swallowing; the Cry of it seemed indeed a little odd and particular, and it was just fourteen Months old. Under the Breast it was joined to another Child, but without a Head, and that had the spin of the Back without motion, the rest entire; for though it had one Arm shorter than the other, it had been broken by accident at their Birth; they were joined Breast to Breast, and as if a lesser Ghild would reach the Arms about the Neck of one something bigger. The juncture and thickness of the place where they were conjoined was not above four Fingers, or thereabouts, so that if you thrust up the imperfect Child you might see the Navel of the other below it, and the joining was betwixt the Paps and the Navel. The Navel of the imperfect Child could not be seen, but all the rest of the Belly; so that all the rest that was not joined of the imperfect one, as Arms, Buttocks, Thighs and Legs, hung dangling upon the other, and might reach to the Leg. The Nurse moreover told us that it urined at both Bodies, and also the members of the other were nourished, sensible, and in the same plight with that she gave suck to, excepting that they were shorter, and less. This double Body, and several Limbs relating to one Head, might be interpreted a favourable Prognostic to the King, of maintaining these various Parts of our State under the union of his Laws; but lest the Event should prove otherwise, 'tis better to let it alone, for in things already past, 
Cicero. de Divin. l. 2.  there needs no Divination; Vt quum facta sunt, tum ad conjecturam aliqua interpretatione revocantur. So as when they are come to pass, they should then by some Interpretation be recalled to Conjecture. As 'tis said of Epimenides, that he always Prophesied of things past. I have lately seen a Herdsman in Medoc of about thirty years of Age, who has no sign of any Genital Parts; he has three holes by which he incessantly voids his Water, he is Bearded, has desire, and covets the society of Women. Those that we call Monsters, are not so to God, who sees in the Immensity of his Work, the infinite Forms that he has comprehended therein. And it is to be believed, that this Figure which does astonish us, has relation to some other Figure of the same kind unknown to man. From his all Wisdom nothing but good, common, and regular proceeds; but we do not discern the Disposition and Relation. Quod crebro videt, 
Cicero. de Divin. l. 2.  non miratur, etiamsi, cur fiat nescit. Quod antè non videt, id, si evenerit, ostentum esse censet. What he often sees he does not admire, though he be ignorant how it comes to pass. But when a thing happens he never saw before, that he looks upon as a Portent. Whatever falls out contrary to Custom, we say is contrary to Nature, but nothing, whatever it be, is contrary to her. Let therefore this universal and natural Reason expel the Error and Astonishment that Novelty brings along with it.   

CHAP. XXXI. Of Anger.  
PLutarch is admirable throughout; but especially where he judges of humane Actions; the fine things he says, in comparison of Lycurgus and Numa, upon the Subject of our great Folly in abandoning Children to the Care and Government of their Fathers, are very easily discerned. The most of our Civil Governments, as Aristotle says, leave, after the manner of the Cyclops, to every one the ordering of their Wives and Children, according to their own foolish and indiscreet Fancy; and the Lacedaemonian and Cretensian are almost the only Governments that have committed the Education of Children to the Laws. And who does not see that in a State all depends upon their nurture and bringing up? and yet they are left to the Mercy of Parents, let them be as foolish and ill natured as they will, without any manner of Discretion. Amongst other things, how oft have I, as I have passed along the Streets, had a good mind to make a farce, to revenge the poor Boys whom I have seen flayed, knocked down, and miserably abused by some Father or Mother when in their Fury, and mad with Rage? You shall see them come out with Fire and Fury sparkling in their Eyes, 


Juvenal. Sat. 6. — rabie jecur incendente feruntur  
Praecipites, ut saxa jugis abruta, quibus mons  
Subtrahitur, clivoque latus pendente recedit.   

With burning Fury they are headlong borne  
As when great Stones are from the Mountains torn,  
By which the Cliffs deprived and lessened are,  
And their steep sides are naked left, and bare.   (and according to Hypocrates the most dangerous Maladies are they, that disfigure the Countenance) with a roaring and terrible Voice very often against those that are but newly come from Nurse, and there they are lamed and spoiled with blows, whilst our Justice takes no Cognizance of it; as if these maims and dislocations were not executed upon Members of our Commonwealth. 

Gratum est quod patriae civem, populoque dedisti, 
Juvenal. Sat. 14.   
Si facis ut Patriae sit idoneus, utilis agris,  
Vtilis, & bellorum & pacis rebus agendis.   

It is a Gift most acceptable, when  
Thou to thy Country giv'st a Citizen,  
Provided thou hast had the knack of it  
To make him for his Country's Service fit,  
Useful t'assist the Earth in her increase,  
And useful in Affairs of War and Peace.   There is no Passion that so much transports men from their right Judgements, as Anger. No one would demur upon punishing a Judge with Death who should condemn a Criminal upon the account of his own Choler; why then should Fathers and Pedants be any more allowed to whip and chastise Children in their Anger? 'Tis then no longer Correction but Revenge. Chastisement is instead of Physic to Children; and should we suffer a Physician, who should be animated against and enraged at his Patient? We ourselves, to do well, should never lay a Hand upon our Servants whilst our Anger lasts: whilst the Pulse beats, and that we feel an Emotion in ourselves, let us defer the Business; things will indeed appear otherwise to us when we are calm and cool. 'Tis then Passion that commands, 'tis then Passion that speaks, and not we. Faults seen through Passion are magnified, and appear much greater to us than they really are, as Bodies do being seen through a Mist. Who is hungry uses Meat, but he that will make use of Correction should have no appetite neither of Hunger or Thirst to it. And moreover, Chastisements that are inflicted with weight and discretion, are much better received, and with greater benefit by him who suffers. Otherwise he will not think himself justly condemned by a man transported with anger and fury, and will allege his Master's excessive Passion, his inflamed Countenance, his unwonted Oaths, his Emotion and precipitous Rashness, for his own justification.  


Ovid. de Art. lib. 3.  Ora tument ira, nigrescunt sanguine venae,  
Lumina Gorgonio▪ saevius igne micant.   

Their Faces swell, and Veins grow black with ire,  
And their Eyes sparkle with Gorgonian Fire.   
Suetonius reports, that Caius Rabirius having been condemned by Caesar, the thing that most prevailed upon the People (to whom he had appealed) to determine the Cause in his favour, was, the animosity and vehemency that Caesar had manifested in that Sentence. Saying is one thing and Doing is another; we are distinctly to consider the Sermon and the Preacher. These men took a pretty Business in hand, who in our Times have attempted to shake the Truth of our Church by the Vices of her Ministers; she extracts her Testimony elsewhere. 'Tis a foolish way of Arguing, and that would throw all things into confusion. A man whose Manners are good, may have false Opinions, and wicked men may preach Truth, nay, though he believe it not himself. 'Tis doubtless a fine Harmony when doing and saying go together; and I will not deny but that Saying, when the Actions follow, are of greater Authority and Efficacy, as Eudamidas said, hearing a Philosopher talk of Military Affairs; These things are finely said, but he that speaks them is not to be believed, for his Ears have never been used to the sound of the Trumpet. And Cleomenes, hearing an Orator declaiming upon Valour, burst out into Laughter, at which the other being angry, I should, said he to him, do the same if it were a Swallow that spoke of this subject, but if it were an Eagle I should willingly hear him. I perceive, methinks, in the Writing of the Ancients, that he who speaks what he thinks, strikes much more home than he that only dissembles. Hear but Cicero speak of the love of Liberty: Hear Brutus speak of it, his very writings sound that this man would purchase it at the price of his Life. Let Cicero, the Father of Eloquence, treat of the contempt of Death, and let Seneca do the same; the first does languishingly drawl it out, so that you perceive he would make you resolve upon a thing on which he is not resolved himself. He inspires you not with Courage, 
Censure of Cicero and Seneca.  for he himself has none; the other animates and inflames you. I never read Author, even of those who treat of Virtue, and of Actions, that I do not curiously examine what a kind of man he was himself. For the Ephori at Sparta, seeing a dissolute Fellow propose a wholesome advice to the People, commanded him to hold his peace, and entreated a virtuous man to attribute to himself the Invention, and to propose it. Plutarch's Writings, if well understood, sufficiently speak their Author; and so that I think I know him even into his Soul, and yet I could wish that we had some fuller account of his Life: and am thus far wandered from my Subject, upon the account of the Obligation I have to Aulus Gellius, for having left us in Writing this Story of his Manners, that brings me back to my Subject of Anger. 
Plutarch reproached for Anger by a Slave of his.  A Slave of his, a vicious, ill conditioned Fellow, but that had had the Precepts of Philosophy often ringing in his Ears, having for some Offence of his been stripped by Plutarch's Command, whilst he was whipping, muttered at first, that it was without cause, and that he had done nothing to deserve it; but at last falling in good earnest to exclaim against, and to rail at his Master, he reproached him, that he was no Philosopher, as he had boasted himself to be: that he had often heard him say it was indecent to be angry, nay, had writ a Book to that purpose; and that the causing him to be so cruelly beaten in the height of his Rage, totally gave the Lie to all his Writings. To which Plutarch calmly and coldly answered, How, Ruffian, said he, By what dost thou judge that I am now angry, does either my Face, my Colour, or my Voice give any manifestation of my being moved? I do not think my Eyes look fierce, that my Countenance appears troubled, or that my Voice is dreadful; am I red, do I foam, does any Word escape my Lips I ought to repent? Do I start? Do I tremble with Fury? For those I tell thee are the true signs of Anger. And so turning to the Fellow that was whipping him, Ply on thy Work, said he, whilst this Gentleman and I dispute. This is the Story.  
Archytas Tarentinus, returning from a War wherein he had been Captain General, found all things in his House in very great disorder, and his Lands quite out of Tillage, through the ill Husbandry of his Receiver, whom having caused to be called to him, Go, said he, if I were not in Anger, I would sound drubb your sides. Plato likewise being highly offended with one of his Slaves, gave Speusippus order to chastise him, 
That Correction never ought to be given in Anger.  excusing himself from doing it because he was in Anger. And Carillus, a Lacedaemonian, to a Helot, who carried himself so insolently and audaciously towards him; By the Gods, said he, if I was not angry, I would immediately cause thee to be put to Death. 'Tis a Passion that is pleased with, and flatters itself. How oft, being moved under a false cause, if the Person offending makes a good Defence, and presents us with a just excuse, are we vexed at Truth and Innocence itself? In proof of which, I remember a marvellous Example of Antiquity. Piso, otherwise a Man of very eminent Virtue, being moved against a Soldier of his, for that returning alone from Forage, he could give him no account where he had left a Companion of his, took it for granted, that he had killed him, and presently condemned him to Death. He was no sooner mounted upon the Gibbet, but behold his wand'ring Companion arrives, at which all the Army were exceedingly glad, and after many embraces of the two Comrades, the Hangman carried both the one and the other into Piso's Presence, all the Assistants believing it would be a great Pleasure even to him himself; but it proved quite contrary; for through shame and spite, his Fury, which was not yet cool, redoubled; and by a subtlety which his Passion suddenly suggested to him, he made three Criminal for having found one innocent, and caused them all to be dispatched: The first Soldier, because Sentence had passed upon him; The second, who had lost his way, because he was the Cause of his Companions Death; and the Hangman, for not having obeyed the Order bade been given him. Such as have had to do with testy and obstinate Women, may have experimented into what a Rage it puts them, to oppose Silence and Coldness to their Fury, and that a man disdains to nourish their Anger. The Orator Celius was wonderfully choleric by Nature, and to one who supped in his Company, a man of a gentle and sweet Conversation, and who, that he might not move him, approved and consented to all he said; he, impatient that his ill Humour should thus spend itself without aliment; For the love of the Gods deny me something, said he, that we may be two. Women in like manner are only angry, that others may be angry again, in imitation of the Laws of Love. Photion, to one that interrupted his speaking by injurious and very opprobrious Words, made no other return than silence, and to give him full liberty and leisure to vent his spleen; which he having accordingly done, and the storm blown over, without any mention of this disturbance, he proceeded in his Discourse where he had left off before. No answer can nettle a man like such a Contempt. Of the most choleric man in France, (anger is always an imperfection, but more excusable in a Soldier, for in that trade it cannot sometimes be avoided) I must needs say, that he is often the most patient man that I know, and the most discreet in bridling his Passions; which rises in him with so great Violence and Fury, 

— magno veluti cum flamma sonore  
Virgea suggeritur costis undantis aheni, 
Aeneid. l. 7.   
Exultanque aestu latices, furit intus aquai.  
Fumidus, atque altè spumis exuberat amnis,  
Nec jam se capit unda, volat vapour after ad auras.   

As when into the boiling Caldron's side  
A crackling flame of Brush-wood is applied,  
The bubbling Liquor there like springs are seen  
To swell, and foam to higher Tides within,  
Until it does to overflowing rise,  
And a fuliginous Vapour upward flies.   that he must of necessity cruelly constrain himself to moderate it; and for my part, I know no Passion which I could with so much Violence to myself attempt to cover and conceal. I would not set Wisdom at so high a price; and do not so much consider what he does, as how much it costs him to do no worse. Another boasted himself to me of the regularity and sweetness of his Manners, which is in truth very singular; to whom I replied, that it was indeed something, especially in Persons of so eminent Quality as himself, upon whom every one had their Eyes, to present himself always well-tempered to the World; but that the principal thing was to make Provision for within, and for himself; and that it was not, in my Opinion, very well to order his Business inwardly to grate himself, which I was afraid he did, in putting on and outwardly maintaining the visor and regular Appearance. A man incorporates Anger by concealing it, as Diogenes told Demosthenes, who, for fear of being seen in a Tavern, withdrew himself into it. The more you retire, the farther you enter in. I would rather advise that a man should give his Servant a box of the Ear a little unseasonably, than wrack his Fancy to represent this grave and composed Countenance; and had rather discover my Passions than brood over them at my own expense; they grow less in venting and manifesting themselves; and 'tis much better their point should wound others without than be turned towards ourselves within. Omnia vitia in aperto leviora sunt: 
Seneca. Epist. 57  & tunc perniciosissima, quum simulata sanitate subsidunt. All Vices are less dangerous when open to be seen, and then most pernicious when they lurk under a dissembled Temper. I admonish all those who have authority to be angry in my Family, in the first place to manage their Anger, and not to lavish it upon every occasion, for that both lessens the value, and hinders the Effect. Rash and customary chafing runs into Custom, and renders itself despised; and that you lay out upon a Servant for a Theft, is not felt, because it is the same he has seen you a hundred times employ against him for having ill washed a Glass, or set a Stool out of order. Secondly, that they are not angry to no purpose, but make sure that their Reprehension reach him at whom they are offended; for ordinarily they rail and bawl before he comes into their Presence, and continue scolding an Age after he is gone; 

Et secum petulans amentia certat: 
Claudian.    

And petulant madness with itself contends.   they attack his shadow, and push the storm in place where no one is either chastised or interested, but in the clamour of their Voice. I likewise in Quarrels condemn those who huff and vapour without an Enemy: those Rodomontades are to be reserved to discharge upon the offending Party. 

Mugitus veluti cum prima in praelia taurus  
Terrificos ciet, atque irasci in cornua tentat, 
Aeneid. lib. 12.   
Arboris obnixus trunco, ventosque lacessit  
Ictibus, & sparsa ad pugnam proludit arena.   

Like angry Bulls that make the Valleys ring,  
Pressed to the fight, with dreadful bellowing,  
Whetting their Horns against the sturdy Oak,  
Who with their kicking Heels the winds provoke,  
And tossing up the Earth, a Dust do raise  
For furious preludes to ensuing frays.   When I am angry, my Anger is very sharp, but withal very short, 
The Author's Anger in great and little Occasions.  and as private as I can; I lose myself indeed in Promptness and Violence, but not in Trouble, so that I throw out all sorts of injurious words at random, and without choice, and never consider pertinently to dart my Language where I think it will deepest wound, for I commonly make use of no other Weapon in my Anger than my Tongue. My Servants have a better bargain of me in great Occasions than in little, the little ones surprise me; and the mischief on't is, that when you are once upon the Precipice, 'tis no matter who gave you the push, for you always go to the bottom; the fall urges, moves, and makes haste of itself. In great Occasions this satisfies me, that they are so just every one expects a warrantable Indignation, and then I glorify myself in deceiving their Expectation; against these, I fortify and prepare myself, they disturb my Head, and threaten to transport me very far, should I follow them. I can easily contain myself from entering into one of these Passions, and am strong enough when I expect them, to repel their Violence, be the Cause never so great; but if a Passion once prepossess and seize me, it carries me away, be it never so small: which makes me indent with those who may contend me, when you see me first moved, let me alone, right or wrong, I'll do the same for you. The storm is only begot by a concurrence of Angers, which easily spring from one another, and are not born together. Let every one have his own way, and we shall be always at Peace. A profitable Advice, but hard to execute. Sometimes also it falls out, that I put on a seeming Anger, for the better governing of my House, without any real Emotion▪ As Age renders my Humours more sharp, I study to oppose them, and will, if I can, order it so, that for the Future I may be so much the less peevish and hard to please, as I have more excuse and inclination to be so, although I have heretofore been reckoned amongst those that have the greatest Patience. A Word more to conclude this Chapter. Aristotle says, that Anger sometimes serves for Arms to Virtue and Valour. 'Tis likely it may be so, nevertheless, they who contradict him pleasantly Answer, that 'tis a Weapon of novel Use, for we move all other Arms, this moves us, our Hands guide it not, 'tis it that guides our Hands, it holds us, we hold not it.   

CHAP. XXXII. Defence of Seneca and Plutarch.  
THE familiarity I have had with these two Authors, and the assistance they have lent to my Age, and Book, wholly compiled of what I have borrowed from them, obliges me to espouse their Quarrel, and to stand up for their Honour. As to Seneca, amongst a million of little Pamphlets that those of the Reformed Religion disperse abroad for the defence of their Cause; (and which sometimes proceeds from so good a Hand, that 'tis pity his Pen is not employed in a better Subject) I have formerly seen one, that to make up the Parallel he would fain find out betwixt the Government of our late poor King Charles the Ninth, and that of Nero, compares the late Cardinal of Lorraine with Seneca, their Fortunes to have both of them been the prime Ministers in the Government of their Princes, and their Manners, Conditions, and Deportments to have been very near alike: Wherein, in my Opinion, he does the said Cardinal a very great Honour; for though I am one of those who have a very great esteem for his Wit, Eloquence, and Zeal to Religion, and the Service of his King, and think it was a happiness in an Age wherein he was so new, so rare, and also so necessary for the Public, to have an Ecclesiastical Person, of so high Birth and Dignity, and so sufficient and capable of his Place; yet to confess the Truth, I do not think his Capacity by many degrees near to the other, nor his Virtue either so clean, entire, or steady, as that of Seneca. Now the Book whereof I speak, to bring about his design, gives a very injurious Description of Seneca, having borrowed his Reproaches from Dion the Historian, whose Testimony I do not at all believe. For besides that, he is inconstant, who after having called Seneca one while very wise, and again a mortal enemy to Nero's Vices, makes him elsewhere Avaricious, an Usurer, Ambitious, Effeminate, Voluptuous, and a false Pretender to Philosophy; his own Virtue does appear so lively and vigorous in his Writings, and his Vindication is so clear from any of these imputations of Riches, and any extraordinary expensive way of living, that I cannot believe any Testimony to the contrary. And besides, it is much more reasonable to believe the Roman Historians in such things, than Greeks and Strangers. Now Tacitus and the rest speak very honourably both of his Life and Death; and represent him to us a very excellent and virtuous Person in all things; and I will allege no other Reproach against Dion's Report but this, which I cannot avoid, namely, that he has so sickly a Judgement in the Roman Affairs, that he dares to maintain Julius Caesar's Cause against Pompey, and that of Anthony against Cicero. Let us now come to Plutarch; 
Bodinus a good Author.  John Bodinus is a good Author of our times, and a Writer of much greater Judgement than the rout of Scribblers of his Age, and that deserves to be carefully read and considered. I find him though a little bold in this passage of his Method of History, where he accuses Plutarch not only of ignorance (wherein I would have let him alone: for that is above my reprehension) but that he oft writes things incredible, and absolutely fabulous, which are his own Words. If he had simply said, that he had delivered things otherwise than they really are, it had been no great reproach; for what we have not seen, we are forced to receive from other hands, and take upon trust, and I see he purposely sometimes variously relates the same Story, as the Judgement of the three best Captains that ever were, given by Hannibal; 'tis one way in the Life of Flaminius, and another in that of Pyrrhus. But to charge him with having taken incredible and impossible things for current pay, is to accuse the most judicious Author in the World of want of Judgement. And this is his Example; as, says he, when he relates that a Lacedaemonian Boy suffered his Bowels to be torn out by a Fox-cub he had stolen, 
The Bowels of a Lacedaemonian Boy torn out by a Fox-cub.  and kept it still concealed under his Coat till he fell down dead, rather than he would discover his theft. I find in this first place this Example ill chosen, forasmuch as it is very hard to limit the Power of the Faculties of the Soul, whereas we have better. Authority to limit, and know the force of the bodily Limbs; and therefore, if I had been as he, I should rather have chosen an Example of this second sort; and there are that are less credible: and amongst others, that which he relates of Pyrrhus, that all wounded as he was, he struck one of his Enemies who was armed from Head to Foot, so great a blow with his Sword, that he clavae him down from his Crown to his seat, so that the Body was divided into two parts. In this Example I find no great Miracle, nor do not admit of the Salvo with which he excuses Plutarch, to have added this Word (as 'tis said) to suspend our Belief; for unless it be in things received by Authority, and the reverence to Antiquity or Religion, he would never have himself admitted, or enjoined us things incredible in themselves to believe; and that this Word (as 'tis said) is not put in this place to that effect, is easy to be seen, because he elsewhere relates to us, upon this Subject, of the Patience of the Lacedaemonian Children, 
The Patience of the Lacedaemonian Children.  Examples happening in his Time, more unlikely to prevail upon our Faith; as what Cicero also has testified before him, as having, as he says, been upon the Place: that even to their Times there were Children found, who, in the trial of Patience they were put to before the Altar of Diana, suffered themselves to be there whipped till the Blood run down all over their Bodies, not only without crying out, but without so much as a Groan, and some till they there voluntarily lost their Lives: and that which Plutarch also, amongst an hundred other Witnesses, relates, that at a Sacrifice, a burning Coal being fallen into the sleeve of a Lacedaemonian Boy, as he was censing, he suffered his whole Arm to be burned, till the smell of the broiling flesh was perceived by the Assistants. There was nothing, according to their Custom, wherein their Reputation was more concerned, nor for which they were to undergo more blame and disgrace, than in being taken in Theft. 
Thievery odious to the Spartans'.  I am so fully satisfied of the greatness of those People's Courage, that his story does not only not appear to me, as to Bodinus, incredible; but I do not find it so much as rare and strange. The Spartan History is full of a thousand more cruel and rare examples; and is indeed all Miracles in Comparison of this. 
Thievery very much practised by the Egyptians.  Marcellinus, concerning theft reports, that in his time there was no sort of Torments which could compel the Egyptians, when taken in the manner, though a People very much addicted to it, so much as to tell their Name. 
Fortitude of a Spanish Peasant.  A Spanish Peasant, being put to the Wrack about the Accomplices of the murder of the Praetor Lucius Piso, cried out in the height of the Torment, that his Friends should not leave him, but look on in all assurance, and that no Pain had the Power to force from him one word of Confession, which was all they could get the first day: the next day, as they were leading him a second time to another Trial, strongly disengaging himself from the Hands of his Guards, he furiously run his Head against a Wall, 
Death of Epicaris.  and beat out his Brains. Epicharis, having tired and glutted the Cruelty of Nero's Yeomen of the Guard, and undergone their Fire, their beating, and their Engines a whole day together without one Syllable of Confession of her Conspiracy; being the next day brought again to the Wrack, with her Limbs almost torn to pieces, conveyed the Lace of her Robe with a running noose over one of the Arms of her Chair, and suddenly slipping her Head into it, with the weight of her own Body hanged herself: who having the Courage to die after that manner, is it not to be presumed that she purposely lent her Life to the Trial of her Fortitude the day before, to mock the Tyrant, and encourage others to the like attempt? And whoever will inquire of our Argoulets of the Experiences they have had in our Civil-Wars, 
Or light-horse.  will find effects of Patience and Obstinacy in this miserable Age of ours, and amongst the soft and effeminate Rabble, worthy to be compared with those we have now related of the Spartan Virtue. I know there have been simple Peasants amongst us, who have endured the Soles of their Feet to be broiled upon a Grid-iron, their Fingers-ends to be writhe off with the Cock of a Pistol, and their bloody Eyes squeezed out of their Heads by force of a Cord twisted about their Brows, before they would so much as consent to ransom. I have seen one left stark naked for dead in a Ditch, his Neck black and swelled, with a Halter yet about it, with which they had dragged him all Night at a Horse's Tail, his Body wounded in a hundred Places, with stabs of Daggers had been given him, not to kill him, but to put him to Pain, and to affright him: who had endured all this, and even to being speechless and insensible, resolved, as he himself told me, rather to die a thousand deaths (as indeed, as to matter of suffering, he already had) before he would pay a penny; and yet he was one of the richest Husbandmen of all the Country. How many have been seen patiently to suffer themselves to be burnt and roasted for Opinions taken upon trust from others, and by them not at all understood? 
Women obstinate.  I have known a hundred and a hundred Women (for Gascony has a certain Prerogative for Obstinacy) whom you might sooner have made eat Fire, than forsake an Opinion they had conceived in Anger. They are more exasperated by blows and constraint. And he that made the Story of the Woman, who in defiance of all Correction, Threats and Bastinadoes, ceased not to call her Husband lousy Knave; and that being plunged over Head and Ears in Water, could yet lift her Hands above her Head, and make a sign of cracking Lice, feigned a Tale, of which in truth we every day see a manifest image in the Obstinacy of Women. And Obstinacy is the Sister of Constancy, at least in Vigour and Stability. We are not to judge what is possible, and what is not, according to what is credible and incredible to our Apprehension, as I have said elsewhere: and it is a great Fault, and yet that most men are guilty of (which nevertheless I do not mention with any Reflection upon Bodinus) to make a difficulty of believing that in another, which they could not, or would not do themselves. Every one thinks that the sovereign stamp of humane Nature is imprinted in him, and that from it all others must take their Rule; and that all proceedings which are not like his, are feigned and false. Is any thing of another's Actions or Faculties proposed to him? The first thing he calls to the Consultation of his Judgement is his own Example; and as matters go with him, so they must of Necessity do with all the World besides. O dangerous and intolerable Folly! For my part I consider some men as infinitely beyond me, especially amongst the Ancients; and yet, though I clearly discern my inability to come near them by a thousand paces, I do not forbear to keep them in sight, and to judge of what does elevate them so, of which I also perceive some seeds in myself; as I also do of the extreme meanness of some other Minds, which I neither am astonished at, nor yet do misbelieve. I very well perceive the turns those great Souls take to raise themselves to such a pitch, and admire their Grandeur; and those flights that I think the bravest, I could be glad to imitate, where, though I want wing, yet my Judgement goes along with them.  
The other Example he introduces of things incredible, and wholly fabulous, delivered by Plutarch, is, that Agesilaus was fined by the Ephori for having wholly engrossed the Hearts and Affections of his Citizens to himself alone. 
Agesilaus mulcted by the Ephori for insinuating himself into the Heart of the People.  And herein I do not see what sign of Falsity is to be found: but so it is, that Plutarch speaks of things that must needs be better known to him than to us; and it was no new thing in Greece to see men punished and exiled for this very thing of being too acceptable to the People, witness the Ostracism and Petalism. There is yet in this place another Accusation laid against Plutarch, which I cannot well digest; where he says, that he has sincerely coupled the Romans with the Romans, and the Greeks amongst themselves: but not the Romans with the Greeks, witness says he, Demosthenes and Cicero, Cato and Aristides, Sylla and Lysander, Marcellus and Pelopidas, and Pompey and Agesilaus, supposing that he has favoured the Greeks in giving them so unequal Companions: which is really to attaque what in Plutarch is most excellent, and most to be commended. For in his Parallels (which is the most admirable part of all his Works, and with which, in my Opinion, he is himself the most pleased) the fidelity and sincerity of his Judgements equal their depth and weight. He is a Philosopher that teaches us Virtue. Let us see whether we cannot defend him from this Reproach of Falsity and Prevarication. All that I can imagine could give occasion to this Censure, is, the great and shining lustre of the Roman Names which we have still before us; it does not seem likely to us that Demosthenes could rival the Glory of a Consul, Proconsul, and Questor of that great Republic: but if a man consider the truth of the thing, and the men in themselves, which is Plutarch's chiefest aim, and more to balance their Manners, their Natures, and Parts, than their Fortunes; I think contrary to Bodinus, that Cicero, and the elder Cato come very far short of the men with whom they are compared. I should sooner for his purpose have chosen the example of the younger Cato compared with Phocian, for in this couple there would have been a more likely disparity to the Romans Advantage. As to Marcellus, Sylla, and Pompey, I very well discern that their Exploits of War are greater and more full of Pomp and Glory than those of the Greeks, which Plutarch compares with them: but the bravest and most virtuous Actions, no more in War than elsewhere, are not always the most renowned. I often see the Names of Captains obscured by the Splendour of other Names of less desert; witness Labienus, Ventidius, Telesinus, and several others. And to take it by that, were I to complain on the behalf of the Greeks, could I not say, that Camillus was much less comparable to Themistocles, the Gracchis to Agis, and Cleones and Numa to Lycurgus? But 'tis folly to judge of things that have so many Aspects at own view. When Plutarch compares them, he does not for all that make them equal. Who could more learnedly and sincerely have marked their distinctions? Does he parallel the Victories, Feats of Arms, the force of their Armies conducted by Pompey, and his Triumphs, with those of Agesilaus? I do not believe, says he, that Xenophon himself, if he were now living, though he was allowed to write whatever pleased him to the advantage of Agesilaus, would dare to bring them into Comparison. Does he speak of parallelling Lysander to Sylla? There is, says he, no Comparison, either in the number of Victories, or in the hazard of Naval Engagements, etc. This is not to derogate from the Romans; for having only simply named them with the Greeks, he can have done them no injury, what disparity soever there may be betwixt them: and Plutarch does not entirely oppose them to one another, there is no preference in general, he only compares the pieces and circumstances one after another, and gives of every one a particular and separate Judgement; wherefore, if any one would convince him of Partiality, he ought to pick out some one of those particular Judgements, or say in general that he was mistaken in comparing such a Greek to such a Roman, when there were others more fit and better resembling to parallel him to.   

CHAP. XXXIII. The Story of Spurina.  
PHilosophy thinks she has not ill employed her Talon, when she has given the sovereignty of the Soul, and the authority of restraining our Appetites to Reason. Amongst which, they who judge that there is none more violent than those which spring from Love, have this Opinion also, that they seize both of Body and Soul, and possess the whole Man; so that even Health itself depends upon them, and Medicine is sometimes constrained to pimp for them. But a man might on the contrary also say, that the mixture of the Body brings an abatement and weakening; for such desires are subject to Satiety, and capable of material Remedies. Many being determined to rid their Soul from the continual Alarms of this Appetite, have made use of Incision and Amputation of the rebelling Members. Others have subdued their force and ardour by the frequent application of cold things, as Snow, and Vinegar. The Sackcloths of our Ancestors were for this purpose, which is a Cloth woven of Horse's Hair, of which some of them made Shirts, and others Girdles to torture and correct their Reins. A Prince not long ago told me, that in his Youth, upon a solemn Festival in the Court of King Francis the First, where every Body was very finely dressed, he would needs put on his Father's Hair Shirt, which was still kept in the House; but how great soever his Devotion was, he had not patience to wear it till Night, and was sick a long time after, adding withal, that he did not think there could be any youthful heat so fierce that the use of this Receipt would not mortify, and yet perhaps he never essayed the most violent; for Experience shows us, that such Emotions are often seen under rude and slovenly clothes, and that a Hair Shirt does not always render those Chaste that wear it. Xenocrates proceeded with greater severity in this Affair, for his Disciples, to make trial of his Continency, having slipped Lais, that beautiful and famous Courtesan into his Bed quite naked, excepting the arms of her Beauty and her wanton Allurements her Philters, finding, that in the despite of his Reason and philosophical Rules, his unruly flesh began to mutiny, he caused those Members of his to be burned that he found consenting to this Rebellion. Whereas the Passions which wholly reside in the Soul, as Ambition, Avarice, and the rest, find the Reason much more to do, because it cannot there be relieved but by its own means; neither are those Appetites capable of Satiety, but grow sharper, and increase by Fruition. The sole Example of Julius Caesar may suffice to demonstrate to us the disparity of these Appetites; for never was Man more addicted to amorous Delights than he: Of which, the delicate Care he had of his Person, to that degree of Effeminacy, as to serve himself with the most lascivious means to that end, as to have the Hairs of his Body twitched off bye places, and farded all over with Perfumes with the extremest curiosity, is one Testimony, and he was a Beautiful Person in himself, of a fair Complexion, tall, and sprightly, full faced, with quick hazel Eyes, if we may believe Suetonius; for the Statues that we see at Rome do not in all points answer this Description. Besides his Wives, which he four times changed, without reckoning the Amours of his Childhood with Nicomedes King of Bythinia; he had the Maidenhead of the Renowned Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt; witness the little Caesario that he had by her. He also made Love to Eunoe, Queen of Mauritania, and at Rome, to Posthumia, the Wife of Servius Sulpitius, to Lollia, the Wife of Gabinius, to Tortulla, the Wife of Crassus, and even to Mutia, Wife to the Great Pompey: which was the Reason the Roman Historians say, that she was repudiated by her Husband, which Plutarch confesses to be more than he knew. And the Curios, both Father and Son, afterwards reproached Pompey, when he married Caesar's Daughter, that he had made himself Son-in-law to a man who had made him Cuckold, and one that he himself was wont to call Aegystus. Besides all these, he entertained Servilia, Cato's Sister, and Mother to Marcus Brutus, from whence every one believes the great affection he had to Brutus did proceed, by reason that he was born in a time when it was likely he might be his. So that I have reason, methinks, to take him for a man extremely given to this Debauch, and of a very amorous Constitution. But the other Passion of Ambition, 
Caesar very ambitious.  with which he was exceedingly infected, arising in him to contend with the former, it was soon compelled to give way. And here calling to mind Mahomet, who won Constantinople, and totally exterminated the Grecian Name; I do not know where these two Passions were so evenly balanced, equally an indefatigable Lecher and Soldier, but where they both meet in his Life, and justle one another, the quarrelling Ardour always gets the better of the amorous Passion. And this, though it was out of its natural Season, never regained an absolute Sovereignty over the other, till he was arrived at an extreme old Age, and unable to undergo the Fatigues of War. What is related for a contrary Example, of Ladislaus King of Naples, is very remarkable; that being a great Captain, Valiant, and Ambitious, he proposed to himself for the principal end of his Ambition, the execution of his Pleasure, and the enjoyment of some rare and excellent Beauty. His death sealed up all the rest: for having by a close and tedious Siege reduced the City of Florence to so great distress, that the Inhabitants were compelled to Capitulate about surrender; he was content to let them alone, provided they would deliver up to him a beautiful Maid he had heard of in their City. They were forced to yield to it, and by a private Injury to divert the public Ruin. She was the Daughter of a famous Physician of his time, who finding himself involved in so foul a Necessity, resolved upon a high Attempt; for as every one was laying to a hand to trick up his Daughter, and to adorn her with Ornaments and Jewels, to render her more agreeable to this new Lover, he also gave her a Handkerchief most richly wrought, and of an exquisite perfume, (an Implement they never go without in those Parts) which she was to make use of at their first approaches. This Handkerchief, empoisoned with his chiefest Art, coming to be rubbed between the chafed Flesh and open Pores, both of the one and the other, so suddenly infused the Poison, that immediately converting their warm into a cold Sweat, they presently died in one another's Arms. But I return to Caesar. His Pleasures never made him steal one minute of an hour, nor step one step aside from Occasions that might any way conduce to his Advancement. That Passion was so sovereign in him over all the rest, and with so absolute authority possessed his Soul, that it guided him at pleasure: In earnest, it troubles me when (as to every thing else) I consider the greatness of this Man, and the wonderful Parts wherewith he was endued, learned to that degree in all sorts of Knowledge, that there is hardly any one Science of which he has not written: He was so great an Orator, that many have preferred his Eloquence to that of Cicero; and he, I conceive, did not think himself inferior to him in that particular: for his two Anti-catos' were chiefly writ to counterbalance the Elocution that Cicero had expended in his Cato. As to the rest, was ever Soul so vigilant, so active, and so patient of Labour as his? and doubtless it was embellished with many rare seeds of Virtue, I mean innate, and natural, and not put on. He was singularly Sober, so far from being delicate in his Diet, that Opius relates, how that having one day at Table Physical, instead of common Oil, in some Sauce set before him, he did eat heartily of it, that he might not put his Entertainer out of Countenance. Another time he caused his Baker to be whipped for serving him with a finer than ordinary sort of Bread. Cato himself was wont to say of him, that he was the first sober man that ever made it his Business to ruin his Country. And as to the same Cato's calling him one day Drunkard, it fell out thus. Being both of them in the Senate, at a time when Catiline's Conspiracy was in Question, of which Caesar was suspected, one came and brought him a Ticket sealed up: Cato believing that it was something the Conspirators gave him notice of, called to him to deliver it into his hand, which Caesar was constrained to do to avoid farther suspicion. It was by fortune a Love-letter that Servilia, Cato's Sister had written to him; which Cato having read, he threw it back to him, saying, there Drunkard. This, I say, 
Caesar called Drunkard.  was rather a word of disdain and anger, than an express reproach of this Vice, as we often rate those that anger us with the first injurious words comes into our Mouths, though nothing due to those we are offended at. To which may be added, that the Vice which Cato cast in his dish is wonderfully near akin to that wherein he had trapped Caesar; for Bacchus and Venus, 
Venus accompanies Bacchus.  according to the Proverb, do very willingly agree; but with me Venus is most sprightly when I am the most sober. The Examples of his Sweetness and Clemency to those by whom he had been offended are infinite; 
Caesar's Clemency towards his Enemies.  I mean, besides those he gave during the time of the Civil Wars, which, as plainly enough appears by his Writings, he practised to cajole his Enemies, and to make them less afraid of his future Dominion and Victory. But I must also say, that if these Examples are not sufficient Proofs of his natural Sweetness, they at least manifest a marvellous Confidence and Grandeur of Courage in this Person.. He has often been known to dismiss whole Armies, after having overcome them, to his Enemies, without Ransom, or deigning so much as to bind them by Oath, if not to favour him, at lest no more to bear Arms against him. He has three or four times taken some of Pompey's Captains Prisoners, and as oft set them at Liberty. Pompey declared all those to be Enemies who did not follow him to the War, and he proclaimed all those to be his Friends who sat still and did not actually take Arms against him. To such Captains of his as run away from him to go over to the other side, he sent moreover their Arms, Horses, and Equipage. The Cities he had taken by force, he left at full liberty to take which side they pleased, imposing no other Garrison upon them but the memory of his Sweetness and Clemency. He gave strict and express Charge the day of his great Battle of Pharsalia, that without the utmost necessity no one should lay a hand upon the Citizens of Rome. These, in my Opinion, were very hazardous Proceedings, and 'tis no wonder if those in our Civil War, who, like him, fight against the ancient estate of their Country, do not follow his Example; they are extraordinary means, and that only appertain to Caesar's Fortune, and to his admirable Foresight in the conduct of Affairs. When I consider the incomparable Grandeur of his Soul, I excuse Victory that it could not disengage itself from him, even in so unjust and so wicked a Cause.  
To return to his Clemency; we have many natural Examples in the time of his Government; when all things being reduced to his Power, he had no more need to dissemble. Caius Memmius had writ very severe Orations against him, which he had as sharply answered: yet did not soon after forbear to use his interest to make him Consul. Caius Calvus, who had composed several injurious Epigrams against him, having employed many of his Friends to mediate a Reconciliation with him, Caesar voluntarily persuaded himself to write first to him. And our good Catullus, who had so rudely ruffled him under the name of Mamurra, coming to make his excuses to him, he made him the same day sit at his Table. Having Intelligence of some who spoke ill of him, he did no more, but only in a public Oration declare that he had notice of it. He also less feared his Enemies than he hated them. Some Conspiracies and Cabals that were made against his Life, being discovered to him, he satisfied himself in publishing by Proclamation that they were known to him, without further prosecuting the Conspirators.  
As to the respect he had to his Friends; Caius Opius, being with him upon a Journey, and finding himself ill, he left him the only Lodging he had for himself, and lay all Night upon the hard Ground in the open Air. As to what concerns his Justice; he put a beloved Servant of his to Death for lying with a noble Roman's Wife, though there was no complaint made. Never had man more Moderation in his Victory, nor more Resolution in his adverse Fortune. But all these good Inclinations were stifled and spoiled by his furious Ambition, 
Ambition the only ruin of Caesar's Actions.  by which he suffered himself to be so transported and misled, that a man may easily maintain, that that Passion guided the Rudder of all his Actions. Of a liberal man, it made him a public Thief to supply this Bounty and Profusion, and made him utter this vile and unjust saying, That if the most wicked and profligate Persons in the World had been faithful in serving him towards his Advancement, he would cherish and prefer them to the utmost of his Power, as much as the best of men: It intoxicated him with so excessive a Vanity, as to dare to boast in the Presence of his Fellow Citizens, that he had made the great Commonwealth of Rome a Name without Form, and without Body; and to say that his answer for the future should stand for Laws, and also to receive the Body of the Senate coming towards him sitting; to suffer himself to be adored, and to to have divine Honours paid to him in his own Presence. To conclude, this sole Vice, in my Opinion, spoiled in him the most rich and beautiful Nature that ever was, and has rendered his Name abominable to all good Men, in that he would erect his Glory upon the Ruins of his Country, and the Subversion of the greatest and most flourishing Republic the World shall ever see.  
There might on the contrary many examples be produced of great men whom Pleasures have made to neglect the conduct of their Affairs, as Mark Anthony and others; but where Love and Ambition should be in equal Balance, and come to justle with equal Forces, I make no doubt but the last would win the prize.  
But to return to my Subject; 'Tis much to bridle our Appetites by the Discourse of Reason, or by Violence to contain our Members within their Duty: but to lash ourselves for our Neighbour's Interest, and not only to divest ourselves of the charming Passion that tickles us with the Pleasure we feel of being agreeable to others, and courted and beloved of every one; but also to conceive a hatred against the Graces that produce that effect, and to condemn our Beauty because it inflames others; of this I confess I have met with few Examples: this indeed is one. Spurina, a young man of Tuscany, 


Aeneid. lib. 10.  Qualis gemma micat fulvum quae dividet aurum,  
Aut collo decus, aut capiti, vel quale per artem  
Inclusum buxo, aut Ericia Terebintho.  
Lucet ebur,—   

As a Gem shines in yellow Gold enchased,  
On Neck or Head, for Decoration placed;  
Or as by Art I'vry does lustre get  
In the Erician Terebinthus set.   being endowed with a singular Beauty, and so excessive, that the chastest Eyes could not chastely behold its Rays; not contenting himself with leaving so much flame and fever as he every where kindled, without relief, entered into a furious spite against himself, and those great Endowments Nature had so liberally conferred upon him; as if a man were responsible to himself for the Faults of others: and purposely slashed and disfigured, with many Wounds and Scars, the perfect Symmetry and Proportion that Nature had so curiously imprinted in his Face. To give my free Opinion, I more admire than honour such Actions. Such Excesses are enemies to my Rules. The design was Conscientious and Good, but certainly a little defective in Prudence. What! if his Deformity served afterwards to make others guilty of the Sin of Hatred, or Contempt, or of Envy, at the Glory of so commendable an Action, or of Calumny, interpreting this Humour a mad Ambition! Is there any Form from whence Vice cannot, if it will, extract occasion to exercise itself one way or another? It had been more just, and also more noble, to have made of these Gifts of God a Subject of regularity and exemplary Virtue. They who retire themselves from the common Offices, from that infinite number of Vice, and manifest Rules that fetter a man of exact honesty in the Civil Life, are in my opinion very discreet; what peculiar sharpness of Constraint soever they impose upon themselves in so doing. 'Tis in some sort a kind of dying to avoid the Pain of living well. They may have another reward, but the reward of the difficulty I fancy they can never have, nor that in uneasiness there can be any thing beyond keeping himself upright in the waves of the World, truly and exactly performing all parts of his Duty. 'Tis peradventure more easy to live clean from the whole Sex, than to maintain a man's self exactly in all points in the Society of a Wife. And a man may more incuriously slip into want than abundance duly dispensed. Custom, carried on according to Reason, has in it more of sharpness than abstinence. Moderation is a Virtue that has more work than Sufferance. The well living of Scipio has a thousand fashions, that of Diogenes but one. This as much excels the ordinary Lives in Innocency, as the most accomplished excel them in utility and force.   

CHAP. XXXIV. Observation of the means to carry on a War according to Julius Caesar.  
'TIS said of many great Leaders, that they have had certain Books in particular esteem, as Alexander the Great, Homer, Scipio Affricanus, Xenophon, Marcus Brutus, Polybius, Charles the Fifth, Philip de Commines, and 'tis said, that in our times Machiavelli is elsewhere in Repute; but the late Marshal Strossy, who took Caesar for his Man, doubtless made the best choice, being that that Book in truth ought to be the Breviary of every great Soldier, as being the true and most excellent Pattern of all Military Art. And moreover, God knows with what Grace and Beauty he has embellished that rich Matter, with so pure, delicate, and perfect Expression, that, in my Opinion, there are no Writings in the World comparable to his, as to that. I will set down some rare and particular Passages of his Wars that remain in my memory.  
His Army, being in some Consternation upon the Rumour that was spread of the great Forces that King Juba was leading against him; instead of abating the Apprehension which his Soldiers had conceived at the News, and of lessening the Forces of the Enemy, having called them all together to encourage and reassure them, he took a quite contrary way to what we are used to do, for he told them that they needed no more to trouble themselves with enquiring after the Enemies' Forces, for that he was certainly informed thereof, and then told them of a number much surpassing both the truth and the report that was rumoured in his Army; following the advice of Cyrus in Xenophon; forasmuch as the imposture is not of so great importance to find an Enemy weaker than we expected, than to find him really very strong, after having been made to believe that he was weak. It was always his use to accustom his Soldiers simply to obey, 
The Obedience of Caesar's Soldiers.  without taking upon them to control, or so much as to speak of their Captain's designs; which he never communicated to them but upon the point of Execution, and took a delight, if they discovered any thing of what he intended, immediately to change his Orders to deceive them; and to that purpose would often, when he had assigned his Quarters in a place, pass forward and lengthen his days march, especially if it was foul Wether. The Swiss, in the beginning of his Wars in Gaul, having sent to him to demand a free passage over the Roman Territories; though resolved to hinder them by force, he nevertheless spoke kindly to the Messengers, and took some respite to return an Answer, to make use of that time for the calling his Army together. These silly People did not know how good a Husband he was of his time: for he does often repeat, that it is the best part of a Captain to know how to make use of Occasions, and his diligence in his Exploits are in truth unheard of and incredible. If he was not very conscientious in taking advantage of an Enemy under colour of a Treaty of Agreement, he was as little in this, that he required no other Virtue in a Soldier, but Valour only, and seldom punished any other Faults but Mutiny and Disobedience. He would oft after his Victories turn them lose to all sorts of Licence, dispensing them for some time from the Rules of Military Discipline, saying withal, that he had Soldiers so well trained up, that powdered and perfumed, they would run furiously to the fight. In truth he loved to have them richly armed, and made them wear engraved, gilded, and damasked Arms, to the end that the care of saving their Arms might engage them to a more obstinate defence. Speaking to them, he called them by the name of Fellow-soldiers, which we yet use; which his Successor Augustus reformed, supposing he had only done it upon Necessity, and to cajole those who only followed him as Volunters; 

— Rheni mihi Caesar in undis.  

Lucan. l. 5.  Dux erat, hic socius, facinus quos inquinat aequat.   

Great Caesar, who my Gen'ral did appear  
Upon the Banks of Rhine's my Fellow here;  
For wickedness, where it once hold does take,  
All men whom it defiles does equal make.   but that this carriage was too mean and low for the Dignity of an Emperor and General of an Army; and therefore brought up the custom of calling them Soldiers only. With this Courtesy Caesar mixed great Severity to keep them in awe. The ninth Legion having mutined near to Placentia, he ignominiously cashiered them, though Pompey was then yet on foot, and received them not again to Grace till after many Supplications. He quieted them more by Authority and Boldness than by gentle ways. In that place where he speaks of his Passage over the Rhine towards Germany, he says, that thinking it unworthy of the Honour of Roman People to waft over his Army in Vessels, he built a Bridge that they might pass over dry foot. There it was that he built that wonderful Bridg, of which he gives so particular a Description: 
Exhortations to Soldiers before a Battle of great importance.  for he no where so willingly insists upon his own Actions, as in representing to us the subtlety of his Inventions in such kind of things. I have also observed this, that he set a great value upon his Exhortations to the Soldiers before the fight; for where he would show that he was either surprised, or reduced to a Necessity of fight, he always brings in this, that he had not so much as liesure to Harangue his Army. Before that great Battle with those of Tournay, Caesar, says he, having given order for every thing else, presently ran where Fortune carried him to encourage his People, and meeting with the tenth Legion, had no more time to say any thing to them but this, that they should remember their wont Valour, not be astonished, but bravely sustain the Enemy's encounter; and being the Enemy was already approached within a Darts cast, he gave the signal of Battle; and going suddenly thence elsewhere to encourage others, he found that they were already engaged. His Tongue has indeed done him notable Service upon several Occasions, and his Military Eloquence was in his own time so highly reputed, that many of his Army writ down his Harangues as he spoke them, by which means there were Volumes of them collected that continued a long time after him. He had so particular a Grace in speaking, that they who were particularly acquainted with him, and Augustus, amongst others, hearing those Orations read, could distinguish even to the Phrases and Words that were none of his. The first time that he went out of Rome with any public Command, he arrived in eight days at the River Rhine, having with him in his Coach a Secretary or two before him who were continually writing, and him that carried his Sword behind him. And certainly, though a man did nothing but intend his way, he could hardly have performed that Journey so soon. With which promptness having been every where Victorious in Gaul, he left it, and following Pompey to Brundisium, in eighteen days time he subdued all Italy, 
Caesar's promptness in his Expeditions.  returned from Brundisium to Rome, and from Rome went into the very heart of Spain, where he underwent extreme difficulties in the War against Afranius and Petreius, and in the long Siege of Marcelles; from thence he returned into Macedonia, beat the Roman Army at Pharsalia: passed from thence in pursuit of Pompey into Egypt, which he also subdued; from Egypt he went into Syria, and the Territories of Pontus, where he fought Pharnaces; from thence into Africa, where he defeated Scipio and Juba; again returned through Italy into Spain, where he defeated Pompey's Sons. 

Ocior & coeli flammis, & tigride foeta. 
Lucan. lib. 5. Virg. Aen. lib. 12.   
Ac veluti montis saxum de vertice praeceps  
Cum ruit avulsum vento, seu turbidus imber  
Proluit, aut annis solvit sublapsa vetustas,  
Fertur in abruptum magno mons improbus actu,  
Exultatque solo, silvas, armenta, virosque,  
Involvens secum.   

Swifter than Lightning, or the furious course  
Of the fell Tigress when she is a Nurse;  
And as a Stone torn from the Mountains crown  
By some rough Wind thence tumbles headlong down  
Whether washed off by Torrents of a Shower,  
Or loosed by Age's all-subduing Power,  
The ponderous Mass falls with a mighty force,  
And grazing here and there, does in its course  
Sweep all before it, Men, and Flocks, and Droves,  
And levels with the Earth opposing Groves.   Speaking of the Siege of Avaricum, he says, that it was his Custom to be night and day with the Pioners. In all Erterprises of Consequence he still discovered in Person, and never brought his Army into Quarters till he had first viewed the Place. And if we may believe Suetonius, when he resolved to pass over into England, he was the first man that sounded the Passage. He was wont to say, that he more valued a Victory obtained by Counsel than Force. And in the War against Petreius and Afranius, Fortune presenting him with an occasion of manifest Advantage, he declined it, saying, that he hoped with a little more time and less hazard to overthrow his Enemies. He there also played a notable part, in commanding his whole Army to pass the River by Swimming, without any manner of necessity. 


Lucan. lib. 4. — rapuitque ruens in praelia miles  
Quod fugiens timuisset iter, mox uda receptis  
Membra fovent armis, gelidosque à gurgite, cursu  
Restituunt artus.   

The Soldier's rush through a Pass to fight  
They would have been afraid t'ave ta'en in flight  
Then with their Arms their wet Limbs cover o'er,  
And their numbed Joints by running do restore.   I find him a little more temperate and considerate in his Erterprises than Alexander, for this seems to seek and run headlong upon dangers, like an impetuous Torrent attacks and rushes against every thing it meets without Choice or Discretion.  

Sic tauri-formis volvitur Aufidus,  

Horat. lib. 4. Ode. 14.  Qui regna Dauni perfluit Appuli  
Dum saevit, horrendamque cultis  
Diluviem meditatur agris.   


Sir Thomas Hawkins.  So the biforked Aufidus amain  
Runs bellowing forth along th' Apulian Plain,  
When he with rage, and swelling Floods abounds  
Threatening a Deluge to the tilled Grounds.   
And indeed he was a General in the flower and first heat of his Youth, whereas Caesar took up the Trade at a ripe and well advanced Age. To which may moreover be added, that Alexander was of a more sanguine, hot, and choleric Constitution, apt to push him on to such Extravagancies, which he also inflamed with Wine, from which Caesar was very abstinent: but where necessary occasion required, never did any man venture his Person more than he: so much that for my part, methinks, I read in many of his Exploits a determinate Resolution to throw himself away, 
The great Resolution of Caesar in several occasions.  to avoid the shame of being overcome. In his great Battle with those of Tournay, he charged up to the head of the Enemies without his Shield, as he was surprised, seeing the Van of his own Army to begin to give ground, which has also several times befallen him. Hearing that his People where besieged, he passed through the Enemy's Army in disguise to go encourage them with his Presence. Having crossed over to Dyrrachium with very slender Forces, and seeing the remainder of his Army, which he left to Antonius his Conduct, slow in following him, he attempted alone to repass the Sea in a very great Storm; and privately stole away to fetch the rest of his Forces, the Ports on the other side being seized by Pompey, and the whole Sea being in his Possession. And as to what he performed by force of hand, there are very many Exploits that in hazard exceed all the Rules of War: for with how small means did he undertake to subdue the Kingdom of Egypt, and afterwards to attaque the Forces of Scipio and Juba, ten times greater than his? These People have had I know not what of more than humane Confidence in their Fortune, and he was wont to say, that men must execute, and not deliberate upon Erterprises. After the Battle of Pharsalia, when he had sent his Army away before him into Asia, and was passing in one single Vessel the Straight of the Hellespont, he met Lucius Cassius at Sea with ten tall men of War, where he had the Courage not only to stay his coming, but to stand up with him, and summon him to yield, and did his business. Having undertaken that furious siege of Alexia, where there were fourscore thousand men in Garrison, and that all Gaul was in arms to raise the siege, having set an Army on foot of a hundred and nine thousand Horse, and of two hundred and forty thousand Foot, what a Boldness and mad Confidence was it in him, that he would not give over his Attempt, and retire in two so invincible Difficulties? which nevertheless he underwent: and after having won that great Battle against those without, soon reduced those within to his Mercy. The same happened to Lucullus at the Siege of Tigranocerta against King Tigranes, but the Condition of the Enemy was not the same, considering the Effeminacy of those with whom Lucullus had to deal. I will here set down two rare and extraordinary Events concerning this Siege of Alexia; one, that the Gauls having drawn their Powers together to encounter Caesar, after they had made a General muster of all their Forces, resolved in their Council of War to dismiss a good part of this great multitude, that they might not fall into Confusion. This Example of fearing being too many is new; but to take it right, it stands to reason that the Body of an Army should be of a moderate greatness, and regulated to certain bounds, both out of respect to the difficulty of providing for them, and the difficulty of Governing and keeping them in Order. At least it is very easy to make it appear by Example, 
Monstrous Armies of no great Effect.  that Armies so monstrous in number have seldom done any thing to purpose. According to the saying of Cyrus in Xenophon, 'Tis not the number of men, but the number of good men that gives the Advantage: the remainder serving rather to trouble than assist. And Bajazet principally grounded his Resolution of giving Tamburlaine Battle, contrary to the Opinion of all his Captains, upon this, that his Enemies numberless number of men gave him assured hopes of Confusion. Scanderbag, 
That great numbers of Men cause Confusion.  a very good and expert Judge in such matters, was wont to say, that ten or twelve thousand faithful fight men were sufficient to a good Leader to secure his Reputation in all sorts of Military Occasions. The other thing I will here record, which seems to be contrary both to Custom and Rules of War, is, that Vercingentorix, who was made General of all the parts of the revolted Gaul, should go shut up himself in Alexia: for he who has the command of a whole Country, ought never to engage his Person but in case of the last Extremity, that the only place he had left is in concern, and that the only hope he had left was in the defence of that City; Otherwise he ought to keep himself always at Liberty, that he may have means to provide in general for all parts of his Government.  
To return to Caesar. He grew in time more slow, and more considerate, as his Friend Opius does witness: conceiving that he ought not easily to hazard the Glory of so many Victories, which one blow of Fortune might deprive him of. 'Tis what the Italians say, when they would reproach the rashness and fool hardiness of young People, call them Bisognosi d'honore, necessitous of Honour, and that being in so great a want and dearth of Reputation, they have reason to seek it at what price soever, which they ought not to do, who have acquired enough already. There might reasonably there be some Moderation, and some Satiety in this Thirst and Appetite of Glory, as well as in other things: and there are enough who practice it. He was far remote from the religious Observation of the ancient Romans, who would never prevail in their Wars, but by dint of Truce, and simple Valour; and yet he was more conscientious than we should be in these days, and did not approve all sorts of means to obtain a Victory. In the War against Ariovistus, whilst he was parlying with him, there happened a great tumult, which was occasioned by the Fault of Ariovistus his Light-Horse, wherein, ●hough Caesar saw he had a very great Advantage of the Enemy, he would make no use on't, lest he should have been reproached with a treacherous proceeding. He was always wont to wear a rich Garment, and of a shining Colour in Battle, that he might be the more remarkable, and better observed. He always carried a stricter hand over his Soldiers, and kept them closer together when near an Enemy. When the ancient Greeks would accuse any one of extreme insufficiency, they would say in common Proverb, that he could neither read nor swim; he was of the same Opinion, that swimming was of great use in War, and himself found it so, for being to use Diligence, he commonly swum over the Rivers in his way; for he loved to march on foot, as also did Alexander the great. Being in Egypt forced, to save himself to go into a little Boat, and so many People leaping in with him, that it was in danger of sinking, he chose rather to commit himself to the Sea, and recovered his Fleet, which lay two hundred paces off, holding in his left hand his Tablets, and drawing his Coat-Armour in his Teeth, that it might not fall into the Enemy's hand, by swimming at a pretty advanced Age. Never had any General so much Credit with his Soldiers: In the beginning of the Civil-Wars, his Centurions offered him to find every one a man at Arms at his own charge, and the Foot Soldiers to serve him at their own expense; those who were most at their ease moreover undertaking to defray the most necessitous. The late Admiral chastilion showed us the like Example in our Civil War; 
Soldier's Mercenary.  for the French of his Army laid out Money out of their own Purses to pay the Strangers that were with them. There are but rarely found Examples of so ardent and so ready an Affection amongst the Soldiers of elder times, who kept themselves strictly to their Rules of War. Passion has a more absolute command over us than Reason; and yet it has happened in the War against Hannibal, that by the Examples of the People of Rome, in the City, the Soldiers and Captains refused their Pay in the Army, and in Marcellus his Camp those were branded with the name of Mercenaries who would receive any. Having come by the worse near Dyrrachium, his Soldiers came and offered themselves to be chastised and punished, so that there was more need to comfort than reprove them. One single Cohort of his withstood four of Pompey's Legions above four hours together, till they were almost all killed with Arrows, so that there were a hundred and thirty thousand Shafts found in the Trench. A Soldier called Scaeva, who commanded at one of the Avenues, invincibly maintained his ground, having lost an Eye, one Shoulder, and one Thigh shot through, and his Shield shot through in two hundred and thirty places. It happened that many of his Soldiers being taken Prisoners, rather chose to die than promise to take the contrary side. Granius Pe●ronius, taken by Scipio in Africa, Scipio having put the rest to death, sent him word that he gave him his Life, for he was a man of Quality, and Questor, to whom Petronius sent answer back, that Caesar's Soldiers were wont to give others their Lives, and not to receive it, and immediately with his own hand killed himself. Of their Fidelity there are infinite Examples; amongst which, that which was done by those who were besieged in Salona, 
Fidelity of the Garrison of Salona.  a City that stood for Caesar against Pompey, is not, for the rarity of an Accident that there happened, to be forgot. Marcus Octavius kept them close besieged; they within being reduced to the extremest necessity of all things, so that to supply the want of men, most of them being either slain or wounded, they had manumitted all their Slaves, and had been constrained to cut of all the women's Hair to make Ropes, besides a wonderful Dearth of Victuals, and yet continuing resolute never to yield: After having drawn the Siege to a great length, by which Octavius was grown more negligent and less attentive to his Enterprise, they made choice of one Day about Noon, and having first placed the Women and Children upon the Walls to make a show, sallied upon the Besiegers with such fury, that having routed the first, second, and third Court of Guard, and afterwards the fourth, and all the rest, and beaten them all out of their Trenches, they pursued them even to their Ships, and Octavius himself was fain to fly to Dyrrachium where Pompey lay. I do not at present remember that I have met with any other Example where the Besieged ever gave the Besieger a total Defeat, and won the Field; nor that a sally ever arrived at the consequence of a pure and entire Victory of Battle.   

CHAP. XXXV. Of three good Women.  
THey are not by the dozen, as every one knows, and especially in the Duties of Marriage; for that is a bargain full of so many nice Circumstances, that 'tis hard a Woman's Will should long endure such a restraint. Men, tho' their condition be something better under that tye, have yet enough to do. The true touch and test of a happy Marriage respects the time of their Cohabitation only, if it has been constantly mild, loyal, and commodious. In our Age Women commonly reserve the publication of their good Offices, and their vehement affection towards their Husbands until they have lost them, or at least, till then defer the Testimonies of their good Will. A too slow Testimony, and that comes too late; by which they rather manifest that they never loved them till dead. Their Life is nothing but Trouble, their Death full of Love and Courtesy. As Fathers conceal their affection from their Children, Women likewise conceal theirs from their Husbands to maintain a modest Respect. This mystery is not for my palate; 'tis to much purpose that they scratch themselves and tear their Hair. I whisper in a Waiting-woman or a Secretary's Ear, how were they? how did they live together? I always have that good Saying in my head, jactantius maerent, quae minus dolent. They make the most ado who are least concerned. Their whimpering is offensive to the living, and vain to the dead: we should willingly give them leave to laugh after we are dead, provided they will smile upon us whilst we are alive. Is it not to make a man revive in spite, that she who spit in my face whilst I was, shall come to kiss my feet when I am no more? If there be any Honour in lamenting a Husband, it only appertains to those who smiled upon them whilst they had them, let those who wept during their Lives laugh at their Deaths, as well outwardly as within. Moreover, never regard those blubbered Eyes, and that pitiful Voice; but consider her Deportments, her Complexion, and the plumpness of her Cheeks under all those formal Veils; 'tis there the discovery is to be made. There are few who do not mend upon't, and Health is a quality that cannot lie: that starched and ceremonious Countenance looks not so much back as forward, and is rather intended to get a new one than to lament the old. When I was a Boy, a very beautiful and virtuous Lady, who is yet living, and the Widow of a Prince, had I know not what more Ornament in her Dress than our Laws of Widowhood will well allow, which being reproached withal as a great Indecency, she made Answer, That it was because she was resolved to have no more Friendships, and would never marry again.  
I have here, not at all dissenting from our Customs, made choice of three Women, who have also expressed the utmost of their Goodness and Affections about their Husband's deaths; yet are they Examples of another kind than are now in Use, and so severe, as will hardly be drawn into Imitation.  
The younger Pliny had near unto a House of his in Italy a Neighbour who was exceedingly tormented with certain Ulcers in his private Parts. His Wife seeing him so long to languish, entreated that he would give her leave to see, and at leisure to consider of the condition of his Disease, and that she would freely tell him what she Thought: This Permission being obtained, and she having curiously examined the Business, found it impossible he could ever be cured, and that all he was to hope for or expect, was a great while to linger out a painful and miserable Life, and therefore, as the most sure and sovereign Remedy, resolutely advised him to kill himself. But finding him a little tender and backward in so rude an Attempt: Do not think my Friend, said she, that the Torments I see thee endure are not as sensible to me as to thyself, and that to deliver myself from them, I will not myself make use of the same Remedy I have prescribed to thee. I will accompany thee in the Cure as I have done in the Disease; fear nothing, but believe that we shall have pleasure in this Passage, that is, to free us from so many Miseries, and we will go happily together. Which having said, and roused up her Husband's Courage, she resolved that they should throw themselves headlong into the Sea out of a Window that leaned over it; and that she might maintain to the last the loyal and vehement Affection wherewith she had embraced him during his Life, she would yet have him die in her Arms; but for fear they should fail, and lest they should leave their hold in the fall, and through fear, she tied herself fast to him by the waste, and so gave up her own Life to procure her Husband's repose. This was a mean Woman, and even amongst that condition of People, 'tis no very new thing to see some rare Examples of Virtue. 

— extrema per illos 
Virg. Georg. lib. 2.   
Justitia excedens terris vestigia fecit.   

When from the Earth Justice herself bereft,  
She her lost steps upon such People left.   The other two were noble and rich, where Examples of Virtue are rarely lodged. Arria, the Wife of Cecinna Petus, a Consular Person, was the Mother of another Arria, the Wife of Tharsea Petus, he whose Virtue was so renowned in the time of Nero, and by means of this Son-in-Law, the Grandmother of Fannia: for the resemblance of the names of these Men and Women, and their fortunes, have made many mistake. This first Arria, her Husband Cecinna Petus, 
The Story of the death of Arria, the Wife of Cecinna Petus.  having been taken prisoner by some of the Emperor Claudius his People, after Scribonianus his Defeat, whose Party he had embraced in the War, begged of those who were to carry him prisoner to Rome, that they would take her into their Ship, where she should be of much less charge and trouble to them than a great many Persons they must otherwise have to attend her Husband, and that she alone would undertake to serve him in his Chamber, his Kitchen, and all other Offices. But they refused her, wherefore she put herself into a Fisher boat she hired on a sudden, and in that manner from Slavonia followed him. Being come to Rome, Junia, the Widow of Scribonianus, one day, for the resemblance of their Fortune, accosting her in the Emperor's presence; she rudely repulsed her with these words, I, said she, speak to thee, or give ear to any thing thou sayst; to thee in whose lap Scribonianus was slain, and thou art yet alive? These words, with several other signs, gave her Friends to understand that she would undoubtedly dispatch herself, impatient of supporting her Husband's Fortune. And Thrasea, her Son-in-Law, beseeching her not to throw away herself, and saying to her, What? If I should run the same Fortune that Cecinna has done, would you that your Daughter, my Wife, should do the same: Would I? replied she, Yes, yes, I would, if she had lived as long, and in as good intelligence with thee as I have done with my Husband. These Answers made them more careful of her, and to have a more watchful Eye to her Deportments. One day, having said to those that looked to her; 'Tis to much purpose that you take all this pains to prevent me; you may indeed make me to die an ill death, but to keep me from dying is not in your power; she suddenly furious started from a Chair wherein she sat, and with all her force ran her head against the wall, by which blow being laid flat in a swoon, and very much wounded, after they had again with much ado brought her to herself: I told you, said she, that if you refused me some easy way of dying, I should find out another how painful soever. The conclusion of so admirable a Virtue was thus: Her Husband Petus, not having Resolution enough of his own to dispatch himself, as he was by the Emperor's cruelty enjoined, one day amongst others, after having first employed all the Reasons and Exhortations which she thought most prevalent to persuade him to it, she snatched the Poignard he wore from his side, and holding it ready in her hand, for the conclusion of her Admonitions, Do thus Petus, said she, and in the same instant giving herself a mortal stab in the Breast, and then drawing it out of the wound, presented it to him, ending her Life with this noble, generous, and immortal Saying, Paete non dolet. Petus, it hurts not; having strength to pronounce no more but those three never to be forgotten words. 

Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Paeto, 
Mart. lib. 1. Epig. 14.   
Quem de viceribus traxerat ipso suis:  
Si qua fides, vulnus quod feci, non dolet, inquit,  
Sed quod tu facies, id mihi Paete dolet.   

When the Chaste Arria gave the reeking brand  
That had new gored her heart to Petus' hand,  
Petus, the wound I've made hurts not, quoth she,  
But the wound thou wilt make, 'tis that hurts me.   The Action was much more noble in itself, and of a braver sense than the Poet could express it; for she was so far from being deterred by the Cruelty of her Husband's Wound and Death, and her own, that she had been the Promotress, and had given the Advice: but having performed this high and courageous Enterprise for her Husband's only Convenience, she had even in the last gasp of her Life no other concern but for him, and of dispossessing him of the fear of dying with her. Petus presently struck himself to the Heart with the same Weapon, ashamed, I believe, to have stood in need of so dear and precious an Example.  
Pompeia Paulina, a young and very noble Roman Lady, had married Seneca in his extreme old Age. Nero, his fine Pupil, sent his Guards to him to denounce the Sentence of Death, which was performed after this manner. When the Roman Emperors of those times had condemned any man of Quality, they sent to him by their Officers to choose what Death he would, and to execute it within such or such a time, which was limited according to the mettle of their Indignation, to a shorter, or a longer respite, that they might therein have better leisure to dispose their Affairs, and sometimes depriving them of the means of doing it by the shortness of the time; and if the condemned seemed unwilling to submit to the Order, they had People ready at hand to execute it either by cutting the Veins of the Arms and Legs, or by compelling them by force to swallow a draught of Poison. But Persons of Honour would not stay this Necessity, but made use of their own Physicians and Surgeons for this purpose. Seneca, with a calm and steady Countenance heard their charge, and presently called for Paper to write his Will, which being by the Captain denied, he turned himself towards his Friends, saying to them, Since I cannot leave you any other Acknowledgement of the Obligation I have to you, I leave you at least the best thing I have, namely▪ the Image of my Life and Manners, which I entreat you to keep in Memory of me; that so doing you may acquire the Glory of sincere and real Friends. And therewithal, one while appeasing the Sorrow he saw them in with gentle Words, and presently raising his Voice to reprove them; What, said he, are become of all our brave Philosophical Precepts? What are become of all the Provisions we have so many years laid up against the Accidents of Fortune? Is Nero's Cruelty unknown to us? What could we expect from him who had murdered his Mother, and his Brother, but that he should put his Governor to Death who had nourished and bred him? After having spoke these Words in general, he turned himself towards his Wife, and embracing her fast in his Arms, as her Heart and Strength failing her, she was ready to sink down with Grief, he begged of her, for his sake, to bear this Accident with a little more Patience, telling her, that now the hour was come wherein he was to show, not by Argument and Discourse, but by effect, the Fruit he had acquired by his Studies, and that he really embraced his Death, not only without Grief, but moreover with exceeding Joy. Wherefore my dearest, said he, do not dishonour it with thy Tears, that it may not seem as if thou lov'st thy self more than my Reputation. Moderate thy Grief, and comfort thyself in the knowledge thou hast had of me and my Actions, leading the remainder of thy Life in the same virtuous manner thou hast hitherto done. To which Paulina, having a little recovered her Spirits, and warmed her Magnanimity with the heat of a most generous Affection, replied, No Seneca, said she, I am not a Woman to suffer you to go alone in such a Necessity: I will not have you think that the virtuous Examples of your Life have not yet taught me how to die, and when can I ever better, or more decently do it, or more to my own desire, than with you? and therefore assure yourself I will go along with you. Seneca then taking this noble and generous Resolution of his Wife exceeding kindly at her hands, and also willing to free himself from the fear of leaving her exposed to the Mercy and Cruelty of his Enemies after his Death: I have Paulina, said he, sufficiently instructed thee in what would serve thee happily to live; but thou more covetest I see the Honour of dying: in truth I will not grudge it thee, the Constancy and Resolution in our common end are the same, but the Beauty and Glory of thy part is much greater. Which being said, the Surgeons at the same time open the Veins of both their Arms, but being those of Seneca were more shrunk up, as well with Age as Abstinence, made his Blood to flow too slowly, he moreover commanded them to open the Veins of his Thighs; and lest the Torments he endured might entenerate his Wife's Heart, and also to free himself from the Affliction of seeing her in so sad a Condition, after having taken a very affectionate leave of her, he entreated she would suffer them to carry her into her Chamber, which they accordingly did; but all these Incisions being not yet enough to make him die, he commanded Statius Anneus, his Physician, to give him a draught of Poison, which had not much better Effect; for by Reason of the weakness and coldness of his Limbs, it could not arrive at his Heart. Wherefore they were forced to superadd a very hot Bath, and then feeling his end approach, whilst he had Breath, he continued excellent Discourses upon the Subject of his present Condition, which the Secretaries writ down so long as they could hear his Voice, and his last Words were long after in high Honour and Esteem amongst Men, and it was a great loss to us that they were not reserved down to our times. Then feeling the last pangs of Death, with the bloody Water of the Bath he bathed his Head, saying, This Water I dedicate to Jupiter the Deliverer. Nero, being presently advertised of all this, fearing lest the Death of Paulina, who was one of the best descended Ladies of Rome, and against whom he had no particular unkindness, should turn to his reproach, he sent back Orders in all haste to bind up her Wounds, which her Attendants without his knowledge had done before; she being already half dead, and without all manner of Sense. Thus, though she lived contrary to her own design, it was very honourably, and according to her own Virtue, her pale Complexion ever after manifesting how much Life was run from her Veins.  
These are my three very true Stories, which I find as diverting, and as Tragic as any of those we make of our own Heads wherewith to entertain the common People; and I wonder that they who are addicted to such Relations, do not rather cull out ten thousand very fine Stories, which are to be found in very good Authors, that would save them the trouble of Invention, and be more useful and diverting. And who would make a Collection of them, would need to add nothing of his own, but the Connexion only, as it were the solder of another Metal; and might by this means embody a great many true Events of all sorts, disposing and diversifying of them according as the Beauty of the Work should require, after the same manner almost as Ovid has made up his Metamorphosis of the infinite number of various Fables.  
In these last couple this is moreover worthy of Consideration, that Paulina voluntarily offered to lose her Life for the love of her Husband, 
Seneca's great Affection to his Wife.  and that her Husband had formerly also forbore dying for the love of her. There is no just counterpoise in this exchange as to us; but according to his Stoical Humour, I presume he thought he had done as much for her, in prolonging his Life upon her account, as if he had died for her. In one of his Letters to Lucilius, after he has given him to understand, that being seized with an Ague in Rome, he presently took Coach to go to a House he had in the Country, contrary to his Wife's Opinion, who would by all means persuade him to stay: and that he had told her, that the Ague he was seized with, was not a Fever of the Body, but the Place; it follows thus. She let me go, says he, with giving me a strict charge of my Health. Now I, who know that her Life is involved in mine, begin to make much of myself, that I may preserve her. And I lose the privilege my Age has given me of being more constant and resolute in many things; when I call to mind, that in this old Fellow there is a young Lady who is interested in his Health. And since I cannot persuade her to love me more courageously, she makes me more solicitously love myself: for we must allow something to honest Affections, and sometimes, though occasions importune us to the contrary, we must call back Life, even though it be with Torment: we must hold the Soul fast in our Teeth, since the Rule of Living amongst good men is not so long as they please, but as long as they ought: He that loves not his Wife and his Friend so well as to prolong his Life for them, but will obstinately die, is too delicate and too effeminate: the Soul must impose this upon itself, when the utility of our Friends does so require: we must sometimes lend ourselves to our Friends, and when we would die for ourselves, must break that Resolution for them. 'Tis a Testimony of Grandeur of Courage to return to Life for the Consideration of another, as many excellent Persons have done: and 'tis a mark of singular good nature to preserve old Age (of which the greatest convenience is the indifferency of its duration, and a more stout and disdainful use of Life) when a man perceives that this Office is pleasing, agreeable, and useful to some Person by whom we are very much beloved. And a man reaps by it a very pleasing Reward; for what can be more delightful than to be so dear to his Wife, as upon her account he shall become dearer to himself? Thus has my Paulina loaded me not only with her Fears, but my own; it has not been sufficient to consider how resolutely I could die, but I have also considered how irresolutely she would bear my Death. I am enforced to live, and sometimes to live is Magnanimity. These are his own Words, as excellent as they every where use to be.   

CHAP. XXXVI. Of the most Excellent Men.  
IF I should be asked my Opinion and choice of all the men who have come to my knowledge, I should make answer, That methinks I find three more excellent than all the rest. One of them Homer, not that Aristotle and Varro for example, were not peradventure as learned as he; nor that possibly Virgil was not equal to him in his own Art; which I leave to be determined by such as know them both, and are best able to judge. ay, who for my part, understand but one of them, can only say this, according to my poor Talon, that I do not believe the Muses themselves did ever go beyond the Roman. 

Tale facit carmen docta testudine, 
Proper. l. 2. Eleg. ult.  quale  
Cynthius impositis temperat articulus.   

Whilst playing to his Lute, he Verse doth sing,  
'Tis like Apollo's Voice and fingering.   And yet in this Judgement we are not to forget that it is chiefly from Homer that Virgil derives his Excellence, that he is his guide and teacher; and that the Iliad only has supplied him with body and matter out of which to compose his great and divine Aeneis. I do not reckon upon that, but mix several other Circumstances that render to me this Poet admirable, even as it were above Humane condition. And in truth, I often wonder that he who has erected, and by his Authority given so many Deities reputation in the World, was not deified himself. Being blind and poor, being that before the Sciences were reduced into Rule and certain Observations, he was so well acquainted with them, that all those who have since taken upon them to establish Governments, to carry on Wars, and to write either of Philosophy or Religion, of what Sect soever, or of the Arts, having made use 〈◊〉 him as of a most perfect Instructor in the knowledge of all things, and of his Books, as of an unexhausted Treasure of all sorts of Learning, 

Qui quid sit pulcrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non,  
Plenius, ac melius Chrysippo, ac Crantore dixit. 
Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 2.    

Who, what's our good, what not, what brave, what base, 
Sir Rich. Fenshaw.   
Fuller than Crantor, or Chrysippus says.   and as this other says, 


Ovid. Amo. lib. 3. Eleg. 8. — aquo ceu fonte perenni  
Vatum Pieriis labra rigantur aquis.   

From whose ne'er failing spring the Poet sips,  
And in Pierian Waters wets his lips.   and another, 


Lucret. lib. 3.  Add Heliconiadum Comites, quorum unus Homerus.  
Astra potitus.   

Of all Pretenders, Homer is alone  
Judged the most worthy of the Poet's Throne.   and another, 


Manil. Astroy▪ — cujusque ex ore profuso  
Omnis posteritas latices in carmina duxit,  
Amnemque in tenues ausa est deducere rivos,  
Vnius faeounda bonis.   

From whose full flowing stream Posterity  
Have channels laid to draw out Verses by,  
And have made bold to draw by those outlets  
The Torrent into little Rivulets,  
All fruitful through one man's Eloquence.    
'Tis contrary to the order of Nature that he has made the most excellent Production that can possibly be, for the ordinary birth of things is imperfect; they usually thrive, and gather strength by growing: whereas he has rendered the Infancy of Poesy and other Sciences mature, perfect, and accomplished at first. And for this Reason he may be called the first and the last of Poets, according to the fair Testimony Antiquity has left us of him, That as there was none before him whom he could imitate, so there has been none since that could imitate him. His words, according to Aristotle, are the only words that have Motion and Action, and are the only substantial words. Alexander the Great, having found a rich Cabinet amongst Darius his Spoils, gave order it should be reserved for him to keep his Homer in: saying, that he was the best and most faithful Counsellor he had in his Military Affairs. For the same reason it was, that Cleomenes, the Son of Anaxandridas said, that the Lacedaemonian Poet was the best Master for the Discipline of War. This singular and particular Commendation is also left of him in the Judgement of Plutarch, that he is the only Author in the World, that never glutted nor disgusted his Readers, presenting himself always another thing, and always flourishing in some new Grace. That wanton Alcibiades, having asked one who pretended to Learning for a Book of Homer, gave him a box of the Ear because he had none, which he thought as scandalous, as to take one of our Priests without a Breviary. Xenophanes complained one day to Hiero, the Tyrant of Syracuse, that he was so poor he had not wherewithal to maintain two Servants; What? replied the Tyrant, Homer, who was much poorer than thou art, keeps above ten thousand now he is dead: What did Panctius leave unsaid when he called Plato the Homer of Philosophers? Besides, what Glory can be compared to his? Nothing is so frequent in men's mouths as his Name and Works, nothing so known and received as Troy, Helen, and the War about her, when perhaps there was never any such thing. Our Children are called by names that he feigned above three thousand years ago. Who is ignorant of the Story of Hector and Achilles? Not only some particular Families, but most Nations also seek original in his Inventions. Mahomet, the second of that Name, Emperor of the Turks, writing to our Pope Pius the second; I am astonished, says he, that the Italians should appear against me, considering that we have our common descent from the Trojans, and that it concerns me as well as it does them to revenge the blood of Hector upon the Greeks, whom they countenance against me. Is it not a noble Farce wherein Kings, Republics, and Emperors have so many Ages played their parts, and to which the vast Universe serves for a Theatre? Seven Grecian Cities contended for his Birth, so much Honour even his obscurity helped him to. 


Aul. Gellius.  Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenae.   

By Smyrna, Rhodes, Colophon, Salamis,  
Chios, Argos, and Athens he claimed is.   The other is Alexander the Great. For whoever will consider the Age at which he began his Enterprises, the small means by which he effected so glorious a Design; the authority he obtained at so slender an Age with the greatest and most experienced Captains of the World, by whom he was followed, and the extraordinary favour wherewith Fortune embraced him, and favoured so many hazardous, that I may not say rash Designs: 

— impellens quicquid sibi summa petenti, 
Lucan li. 1.   
Obstaret, gaudensque, viam fecisse ruina.   

Bearing down all his high designs withstood,  
And pleased by Ruin to have made them good.   That Grandeur, to have at the Age of three and thirty years, past Victorious through the whole habitable Earth, and in half a Life to have attained to the utmost of what humane Nature can do; so that you cannot imagine his duration just, and the continuation of his increase in Virtue and Fortune, even to a due maturity of Age, but that you must withal imagine something more than man: To have made so many Royal Branches to spring from his Soldiers; leaving the World at his death divided amongst four Successors, who were no better than Captains of his Army, whose Posterity have so long continued, and maintained that vast possession; so many excellent Virtues as he was master of, Justice, Temperance, Liberality, Truth in his word, Love towards his own, and Humanity towards those he overcame; for his manners in general seem in truth incapable of any manner of reproach, though some particular and extraordinary Actions of his may peradventure fall under censure. But it is impossible to carry on so great things as he did with the strict Rules of Justice; such as he are to be judged in gross, by the main end of their Actions. The ruin of Thebes, the murder of Menander, and of Ephestion's Physician, the massacre of so many Persian Prisoners at once, of a Troop of Indian Soldiers, not without prejudice to his word, and of the Cosseyans, so much as to the very Children, are indeed Sallies that are not well to be excused. For, as to Clitus, the fault was more than recompensed in his Repentance, and that very action, as much as any other whatever, manifests the sweetness of his nature, a nature most excellently formed to goodness; and it was ingeniously said of him, that he had his Virtues by Nature, and his Vices by Chance. As to his being a little given to bragging, and a little too impatient of hearing himself ill spoken of, and as to those Mangers, Arms, and Bits he caused to be strewed in the Indies, all those little Vanities, methinks, may very well be allowed to his Youth, and the prodigious prosperity of his fortune. And who will consider withal his so many Military virtues, his Diligence, Foresight, Patience, Discipline, Subtlety, Magnanimity, Resolution, and good Fortune, wherein, (though we had not had the Authority of Hannibal to assure us) he was the first of men, the admirable beauty and symmetry of his Person even to a miracle, his majestic Port and awful Deportment, in a Face so young, so ruddy, and so radiant: 

Qualis ubi Oceani perfusus Lucifer unda,  
Quem Venus ante alios astrorum diligit ignes, 
Aeneid. lib. 8.   
Extulit os sacrum coelo, tenebrasque resolvit.   

Such the Daystar does from the Ocean rise  
Above all Lights, grateful to Venus' eyes,  
When he from Heaven darts his sacred light,  
And dissipates the sullen shades of Night.   the excellency of his Knowledge and Capacity, the duration and grandeur of his Glory, pure, clean, without spot or envy, and that long after his Death it was a religious belief, that his very Medals brought good fortune to all that carried them about them; and that more Kings and Princes have writ his Acts, than other Historians have written the Acts of any other King or Prince whatever; and that to this very day the Mahometans, who despise all other Histories, admit of, and honour his alone, by a special Privilege: whoever, I say, will seriously consider these particulars, will confess, that all these things put together, I had reason to prefer him before Caesar himself, who alone could make me doubtful in my choice: and it cannot be denied, but that there was more of his own in his Exploits, and more of Fortune in those of Alexander. They were in many things equal, and peradventure Caesar had the advantage in some particular qualities. They were two Fires; or two Torrents to overrun the World by several ways. 

Et velut immissi diversis partibus ignes  

Aeneid. lib. 12.  Arentem in sylvam, & virgulta sonantia lauro:  
Aut ubi decursu rapido de montibus altis  
Dant sonitum spumosi amnes, & in aequora currunt,  
Quisque suum populatus iter.   

And like to Fires in several parts applied  
To a dry Grove of crackling Lawrel's side;  
Or like the Cataracts of foaming Rills,  
That tumble headlong from the highest hills  
To hasten to the Ocean; even so  
They bear all down before them where they go.   But though Caesar's ambition had been more moderate, it would still he so unhappy, having the ruin of his Country, and the universal mischief to the World for its abominable object; that all things raked together, and put into the Balance, I must needs incline to Alexander's side.  
The third, in my opinion, and the most excellent of all, is Epaminondas. Of glory he has not near so much as the other two, (which also is but a part of the substance of the thing) of Valour and Resolution, not of that sort which is pushed on by Ambition, but of that which Wisdom and Reason can raise in a regular Soul, he had all that could be imagined. Of this Virtue of his, he has, in my thoughts, given as ample proof, as either Alexander himself or Caesar: for although his Expeditions were neither so frequent and so renowned, they were yet, if duly considered in all their circumstances, as important, as bravely fought, and carried with them as manifest testimony of Valour and military Conduct, as those of any whatever. The Greeks have done him the honour, without contradiction, to pronounce him the greatest man of their Nation; and to be the first of Greece, is easily to be the first of the World. As to his Knowledge, we have this ancient judgement of him, That never any man knew so much, and spoke so little as he. For he was of the Pythagorean Sect. But when he did speak, never any man spoke better; an excellent Orator, and of powerful insinuation. But as to his Manners and Conscience, he has infinitely surpassed all men that ever undertook the management of Affairs; for in this one thing, which ought chiefly to be considered, that alone truly denotes us for what we are, and that alone I counter-balance with all the rest put together, he comes not short of any Philosopher whatever, not even of Socrates himself. Innocency in this man is a quality, peculiar, sovereign, constant, uniform, and incorruptible, compared to which, it appears in Alexander subject to something else above it, uncertain, variable, effeminate, and accidental. Antiquity has judged, that in thoroughly sifting all the other great Captains, there is found in every one some peculiar quality that illustrates his Name. In this man only there is a full and equal virtue throughout, that leaves nothing to be wished for in him, whether in private or public Employment, whether in Peace or War, whether gloriously to live or die. I do not know any Form or Fortune of Man that I so much honour and love. 'Tis true, that I look upon his obstinate Poverty, as it is set out by his best Friends, a little too scrupulous and nice. And this is the only action, though high in itself, and well worthy of admiration, that I find so severe as not to desire to imitate myself to the degree it was in him. The s●le Scipio Aemilianus, would any attribute to him as brave and magnificent an end, and as profound and universal a knowledge, might be put into the other Scale of the Balance. Oh! what an injury has Time done me, to deprive me of the sight of two of the most noble Lives, which, by the common consent of all the World, one the greatest of the Greeks, and the other of the Romans, were in all Plutarch. What a Matter! what a Workman! For a man that was no Saint, but, as we say, a gallant man, of civil and ordinary Manners, and of a moderate Ambition, the richest Life that I know, and full of the richest, and most to be desired Parts, all things considered, is, in my opinion, that of Alcibiades. But as to what concerns Epaminondas, I will here, for the example of an excessive goodness, add some of his Opinions. He declared, that the greatest satisfaction he ever had in his whole Life was, the contentment he gave his Father and Mother in his Victory of Leuctra; wherein his deference is great, preferring their pleasure before his own, 
Humanity of Epaminondas.  so just and so full of so glorious an Action. He did not think it lawful, even to restore the Liberty of his Country, to kill a man without knowing a cause: which made him so cold in the enterprise of his Companion Pelopidas for the relief of Thebes. He was also of Opinion, that men in Battle ought to avoid the encounter of a Friend that was on the contrary side, and to spare him. And his Humanity even towards his Enemies themselves, having rendered him suspected to the Beotians; for that after he had miraculously forced the Lacedæmonians to open him the Pass, which they had undertaken to defend at the entry into Morca, near unto Corinth, he contented himself with having charged through them, without pursuing them to the utmost, he had his Commission of General taken from him. Very honourably upon such an account, and for the shame it was to them upon necessity afterwards to restore him to his command, and then to see how much upon him depended their Safety and Honour: Victory like a shadow attending him wherever he went; and indeed the Prosperity of his Country, as being from him derived, died with him.   

CHAP. XXXVII. Of the Resemblance of Children to their Fathers.  
THis fagotting up of divers pieces, is so oddly composed, that I never set Pen to Paper, but when I have too much idle time, and never any where but at home; so that it is compiled at several Interruptions and Intervals, as Occasions keep me sometimes many Months abroad. As to the rest, I never correct my first by any second Conceptions; I peradventure may alter a Word or so: but 'tis only to vary the Phrase, and not to destroy my former meaning. I have a mind to represent the progress of my Humour, that every one may see every piece as it came from the Forge. I could wish I had begun sooner, and had taken more notice of the course of my Mutations. A Servant of mine, that I employed to transcribe for me, thought he had got a prize by stealing several pieces from me, wherewith he was best pleased; but it is my comfort, that he will be no greater a gainer, than I shall be a loser by the Theft. I am grown older by seven or eight years since I begun; neither has it been without some new Acquisition: I have in that time, by the Liberty of years, been acquainted with the Stone, a long Conversation, which time hardly wears off without some such Inconvenience. I could have been glad, that of other Infirmities Age has to present long lived men, it had chosen some one that would have been more welcome to me, for it could not possibly have laid upon me a Disease, for which, even from my Infancy, I have had so great a Horror; and it is in truth of all the accidents of old Age, that of which I have ever been most afraid. I have often thought with myself, that I went on too far, and that in so long a Voyage, I should at last run myself into some misadvantage; I perceived, and have oft enough declared, that it was time to knock off, and that Death was to be cut off in the sound and living part, according to the Surgeons Rule in Amputations. And that Nature made him pay very strict Usury, who did not in due time pay the Principal. And yet I was so far from being ready, that in eighteen months' time, or thereabout, that I have been in this uneasy Condition, I have so inur'd myself to it, as to be content to live on in it; and have found wherein to comfort myself, and to hope: so much are men enslaved to their miserable Being, that there is no Condition so wretched they will not accept, provided they may live: according to that of Moecenae. 

Debilem facito manu, 
Seneca Epist. 101.   
Debilem pede coxa,  
Lubricos quate dentes  
Vita dum superest, bene est.   

Maim both my Hands and Feet, break Legs and Thighs,  
Knock out my Teeth, and bore out both my Eyes,  
Let me but live, all's well enough he cries.   And Tamburlaine with his foolish humanity palliated the fantastic cruelty he exercised upon Lepers, when he put all he could hear of to death, to deliver them, as he pretended, from the painful Life they lived. For there was not one of them who would not rather have undergone a triple Leprosy, than to be deprived of their Being. And Antisthenes the Stoic being very sick, and crying out, who will deliver me from these Evils? Diogenes, who was come to visit him, This, said he, presenting him a Knife, presently if thou wilt: I do not mean from my Life, he replied, but from my Disease. The sufferings that only attaque the Mind, I am not so sensible of, as most other Men; and that partly out of Judgement: for the World looks upon several things as dreadful, or to be avoided at the expense of Life, that are almost indifferent to me: partly through a stupid and insensible Complexion I have in Accidents which do not pointblank hit me; and that insensibility I look upon as one of the best parts of my natural Condition: but essential and corporeal pains I am very sensible of. And yet having long since foreseen them, though with a sight weak and delicate, and softened with the long and happy Health and Quiet that God has been pleased to give me the greatest part of my time, I had in my Imagination fancied them so insupportable, that in truth I was more afraid than I have since found I had cause: by which I am still more fortified in this belief, that most of the Faculties of the Soul, as we employ them, more trouble the repose of Life, than they are any way useful to it. I am in conflict with the worst, 
The Stone the most painful of all Diseases  the most sudden, the most painful, the most mortal, and the most irremediable of all Diseases. I have already had the trial of five or six very long, and very painful fits, and yet I either flatter myself, or there is even in this estate what is very well to be endured by a man who has his Soul free from the fear of Death, and the Menaces, Conclusions and Consequences, which Physic is ever thundering in our Ears. But the effect even of pain itself is not so sharp and intolerable as to put a man of understanding into impatience and despair. I have at least this advantage by my Stone, that what I could not hitherto wholly prevail upon myself to resolve upon, as to reconciling and acquainting myself with Death, it will perfect; for the more it presses upon and importunes me, I shall be so much the less afraid to die. I had already gone so far as only to love Life for Life's sake, but my pain will dissolve this Intelligence: and God grant that in the end, should the sharpness of it be once greater than I shall be able to bear, it does not throw me into the other no less vicious extreme, to desire and wish to die.  

Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes. 
Mart. l. 10. Epig. 47.    

Neither to wish, nor fear to die.   
They are two Passions to be feared, but the one has its remedy much nearer at hand than the other. As to the rest, I have always found the Precept, that so exactly enjoins a constant Countenance, and so disdainful and indifferent a Comportment in the toleration of Infirmities to be merely Ceremonial. Why should Philosophy, which only has respect to Life and its Effects, trouble itself about these external Apparences? Let us leave that Care to Histrios and Masters of Rhetoric, that set so great a value upon our Gestures. Let her, in God's name, allow this vocal Frailty, if it be neither cordial nor stomachal to the Disease; and permit the ordinary ways of expressing Grief by sighs, sobs, palpitations, and turning pale, that Nature has put out of our power. And provided the Courage be undaunted, and the Expressions not sounding of despair, let her be satisfied. What makes matter for the wring of our hands, if we do not wring our Thoughts? She forms us for ourselves, not for others, to be, not to seem: let her be satisfied with governing our Understandings, which she has taken upon her the care of instructing; that in the fury of the Colic she maintains the Soul in a condition to know itself, and to follow its accustomed way: contending with, and enduring, not meanly truckling under Pain; moved and heated, not subdued and conquered in the Contention; but capable of Discourse and other things to a certain degree. In so extreme Accidents, 'tis Cruelty to require so exact a Composedness. 'Tis no great matter what Faces we cut, if we find any ease by it: if the Body find itself relieved by complaining, let him go too: if Agitation eases him, let him tumble and toss at pleasure; if he finds the Disease evaporate (as some Physicians hold that it helps Women in delivery) extremely to cry out, or if it do but amuse his Torments, let him roar aloud. Let us not command this Voice to sally, but stop it not. Epicurus does not only forgive his Sage for crying out in Torments, but advises him to it. Pugiles etiam quum feriunt, in jactandis caestibus ingemiscunt, 
Cicero Thusc. l. 2.  quia profundenda voce omne corpus intenditur, venitque plaga vehementior. When men fight with Clubs, they groan in laying on, because the whole strength of Body goes along with the Voice, and the blow is laid on with greater force. We have enough to do to deal with the Disease, without troubling ourselves with these superfluous Rules; which I say in excuse of those whom we ordinarily see impatient in the assaults of this Infirmity; for as to what concerns myself, I have passed it over hitherto with a little better Countenance, and contented myself with grunting, without roaring out. Not nevertheless, that I put any great constraint upon myself to maintain this exterior Decency, for I make little account of such an Advantage: I allow herein as much as the Pain requires, but either my Pains are not so excessive, or I have more than ordinary Patience. I complain, I confess, and am a little impatient in a very sharp fit, but I do not arrive to such a degree of despair, as he who with 

Ejulatu, questu, gemitu, 
Ibid.  fremitibus  
Resonando multum flebiles voces refert.   

Howling, Roaring, and a thousand noises  
Expressed his Torment in most dismal Voices.   I relish myself in the midst of my Dolour, and have always found that I was in a Capacity to speak, think, and give a rational Answer as well as at any other time, but not so coldly and indifferently, being troubled and interrupted by the Pain. When I am looked upon by my Visiters to be in the greatest Torment, and that they therefore forbear to trouble me, I oft try my own strength, and myself set some Discourse on foot, the most remote I can contrive from my present condition. I can do any thing upon a sudden endeavour, but it must not continue long. What pity 'tis I have not the Faculties of that Dreamer Cicero, who dreaming he was lying with a Wench, found he had discharged his Stone in the Sheets! My Pains do strangely disappetite me that way. In the intervals from this excessive Torment, when my Ureters only languish without any great dolour, I presently feel myself in my wont state, forasmuch as my Soul takes no other alarm but what is sensible and corporal, which I certainly owe to the care I have had of preparing myself by Meditation against such Accidents: 

— laborum  

Aeneid. l. 6.  Nulla mihi nova nunc facies inopinaque surgit,  
Omnia praecepi, atque animo mecum ante peregi.   

No face of Pain, or Labour, now can rise  
Which by its novelty can me surprise,  
I've been accustomed all things to explore,  
And been inur'd unto them long before.   I am a little roughly handled for a Learner, and with a sudden and sharp alteration, being fallen in an instant from a very easy and happy condition of Life into the most uneasy and painful that can be imagined. For besides that it is a Disease very much to be feared in itself, it begins with me after a more sharp and severe manner than it uses to do with other men. My Fits come so thick upon me, that I am scarcely ever at ease; and yet I have hitherto kept my mind so upright, that provided I can still continue it, I find myself in a much better condition of Life than a thousand others, who have no Fever, nor other Disease but what they create to themselves for want of meditation. There is a certain sort of crafty Humility that springs from Presumption: as this for Example, that we confess our Ignorance in many things, and are so courteous as to acknowledge, that there are in the works of Nature some Qualities and Conditions that are imperceptible to us, and of which our understanding cannot discover the means and causes; by this honest Declaration we hope to obtain that People shall also believe us of those that we say we do understand. We need not trouble ourselves to seek out Miracles and strange Difficulties; methinks there are so incomprehensible Wonders amongst the things that we ordinarily see, as surpass all difficulties of Miracles. What a wonderful thing it is, that the drop of Seed from which we are produced, should carry in itself the impression not only of the bodily Form, but even of the Thoughts and Inclinations of our Fathers? Where can that drop of Fluid matter contain that infinite number of Forms? And how can they carry on these Resemblances with so temerarious and irregular a Progress, that the Son shall be like his Great Grandfather, the Nephew like his Uncle? In the Family of Lepidus at Rome, there were three, not successively, but by intervals, that were born with the same Eye covered with a Cartilege. At Thebes, there was a Race that carried from their Mother's Womb the form of the head of a Lance, and who was not born so, was looked upon as illegitimate. And Aristotle says, that in a certain Nation, where the Women were in common, they assigned the Children to their Fathers by their resemblance. 'Tis to be believed that I derive this Infirmity from my Father; 
The Author's Father afflicted with the Stone.  for he died wonderfully tormented with a great Stone in his Bladder; he was never sensible of his Disease till the sixty seventh year of his Age, and before that had never felt any grudging or symptoms of it either in his Reins, Sides, or any other part; and had lived till then in a happy vigorous state of Health, little subject to Infirmities, and continued seven years after in this Disease, and died a very painful Death. I was born above five and twenty years before his Disease seized him, and in the time of his most flourishing and healthful state of Body, his third Child in order of Birth: where could his propension to this Malady lie lurking all that while? And he being so far from the Infirmity, how could that small part of his Substance, carry away so great an impression of its share? And how so concealed, that till five and forty years after I did not begin to be sensible of it? being the only one to this hour, amongst so many Brothers and Sisters, and all of one Mother, that was ever troubled with it. He that can satisfy me in this point, I will believe him in as many other Miracles as he pleases, always provided, that as their manner is, he does not give me a Doctrine much more intricate and fantastic than the thing itself for current pay. Let the Physicians a little excuse the Liberty I take, for by this same infusion, and fatal insinuation it is that I have received a hatred and contempt of their Doctrine. The Antipathy I have against their Art is hereditary. My Father lived threescore and fourteen years, my Grandfather sixty nine, my Great-Grandfather almost fourscore years, without ever tasting any sort of Physic: and with them whatever was not ordinary Diet, was instead of a Drugg. Physic is grounded upon Experience and Examples, so is my Opinion. And is not this an express and very advantageous Experience? I do not know that they can find me in all their Records three that were born, bred, and died under the same Roof, who have lived so long by their own Conduct. They must here of Necessity confess, that if Reason be not, Fortune at least is on my side, and with Physicians, Fortune goes a great deal further than Reason; let them not take me now at a disadvantage; let them not threaten me in the subdued condition I now am, for that were treachery. And to say truth, I have got enough the better of them by these domestic Examples, that they should rest satisfied. Humane things are not usually so constant, it has been two hundred years save eighteen that this Trial has lasted, for the first of them was born in the Year 1402. 'Tis now indeed very good reason that this Experience should begin to fail us: let them not therefore reproach me with the Infirmities under which I now suffer; is it not enough for my part, that I have lived seven and forty years in perfect Health? Though it should be the end of my career, 'tis of the longer sort. My Ancestors had an aversion to Physic by some secret and natural instinct; for the very sight of a Potion was loathsome to my Father. The Seigneur de Gaviac, my Uncle by the Father's side, a Churchman, and a Valetudinary from his Birth, and yet that made that crazy Life to hold out to sixty seven years; being once fallen into a furious Fever, it was ordered by the Physicians, he should be plainly told that if he would not make use of help (for so they call that which is very often quite contrary) he would infallibly be a dead man. The good man, though terrified with this dreadful Sentence, yet replied, I am then a dead man. But God soon after made the Prognostic false. The youngest of the Brothers, which were four, and by many years the youngest, the Sieur de Bussaget, was the only man of the Family that made use of Medicine, by reason, I suppose, of the commerce he had with the other Arts, for he was a Counsellor in the Court of Parliament, and it succeeded so ill with him, that being in outward appearance of the strongest constitution, he yet died before any of the rest, the Sieur Saint Michael only excepted. 'Tis possible I may have derived this natural Antipathy to Physic from them; but had there been no other consideration in the case, I would have endeavoured to have overcome it. For all conditions that spring in us without reason, are vicious; and is a kind of Disease that we are to wrestle with: It may be I had naturally this Propension, but I have supported and fortified it by Arguments and Reasons, which have established in me the Opinion I am of. For I also hate the consideration of refusing Physic for the nauseous taste: I should hardly be of that humour, who find Health worth purchasing by all the most painful Cauteries and Incisions that can be applied. And, according to Epicurus, I conceive, that Pleasures are to be avoided, if greater Pains be the consequence; and Pains to be coveted, that will terminate in greater Pleasures. Health is a precious thing, and the only one in truth meriting that a man should lay out, not only his time, sweat, labour, and goods, but also his Life itself to obtain it, forasmuch as without it Life is injurious to us. Pleasure, Wisdom, Learning, and Virtue without it whither away and vanish; and in the most quaint and solid Discourses that Philosophy would imprint in us to the contrary, we need no more but oppose the image of Plato, being struck with an Epilepsy or Apoplexy; and in this Presupposition to defy him to call the rich Faculties of his Soul to his assistance. All means that conduce to Health, can neither be too painful nor too dear to me. But I have some other Apparences that makes me strangely suspect all this merchandise. I do not deny but that there may be some Art, and that there are not amongst so many works of Nature, things proper for the conservation of Health; that is most certain; I very well know there are some Simples that moisten, and others that dry; I experimentally know that Radishes are windy, and Senna leaves purging; and several other such Experiences I have, which I am as sure of as I am that Mutton nourishes, and Wine warms me: and Solon would say, That eating was Physic against Hunger. I do not disapprove the use we make of things the Earth produces, nor doubt in the least of the power and fertility of Nature, and disapprove not application of what she affords to our necessities: I very well see that Pikes and Swallows live by her Laws; but I mistrust the Inventions of Wit, Knowledge, and Art; to countenance which, we have abandoned Nature and her Rules, and wherein we keep no bounds nor moderation. As we call the creation of the first Laws that fall into our hands Justice, and their practice and dispensation very foolish and very unjust: And as those who scoff at and accuse it, cannot nevertheless wrong that noble Virtue, but only condemn the abuse and profanation of that sacred Title; so in Physic, I very much honour that glorious Name, and the end it is studied for, and what it promises to the service of Mankind; but what it foists upon us, I neither honour nor esteem. In the first place, Experience makes me dread it; for amongst all of my Acquaintance, I see no Race of People so soon sick, and so long before they are well, as those who take much Physic. Their very Health is altered and corrupted by their frequent Prescriptions. Physicians are not content to deal only with the Sick, but they will moreover corrupt Health itself, for fear men should at any time escape their Authority. Do they not from a continual and perfect Health, extract suspicion of some great Sickness to ensue? I have been sick often enough, and have always found my sicknesses easy enough to be supported (though I have made trial of almost all sorts) and as short as those of any other without their help, or without swallowing their ill tasted doses. The Health I have is full and free, without other Rule or Discipline than my own Custom and Pleasure. Every place serves me well enough to stay in, for I need no other conveniencies when I am sick than what I must have when I am well. I never disturb myself that I have no Physician, no Apothecary, nor any other Assistance, which I see most other sick men more afflicted at than they are with their Disease, What! Do they themselves show us more felicity and duration in their own Lives that may manifest to us some apparent effect of their Skill? There is not a Nation in the World that has not been many Ages without Physic; 
Physic unknown to many Nations.  and the first Ages, that is to say, the best and most happy, knew no such thing; and the tenth part of the World knows nothing of it yet: several Nations are ignorant of it to this Day, where men live more healthful and longer than we do here, and even amongst us the common People live well enough without it. The Romans were six hundred years before they received it; and after having made trial of it, banished it from their City at the instance of Cato the Censor, who made it appear how easy it was to live without it, having himself lived fourscore and five years, and kept his Wife alive to an extreme old Age, not without Physic only but without a Physician: for every thing that we find to be healthful to Life, may be called Physic. He kept his Family in health, as Plutarch says, if I mistake not, with Hare's milk, as Pliny reports, that the Arcadians cured all manner of Diseases with that of a Cow; and Herodotus says, the Lybians generally enjoy a rare Health, by a Custom they have after their Children are arrived to four years of age, to burn and cauterize the Veins of their Head and Temples, by which means they cut off all defluxions of Rheums for their whole lives. And the Country People of our Province make use of nothing in all sorts of Distempers but the strongest Wine they can get, mixed with a great deal of Saffron and Spice, and all with the same success. And to say the truth, of all this diversity and confusion of Apothecary's Bills, what other end and effect is there after all, but to purge the Belly? which a thousand ordinary Simples will do as well; and I do not know whether such evacuations be so much to our advantage as they pretend, and whether Nature do not require a Residence of her Excrements to a certain proportion, as Wine does of its Lees to keep it alive. You oft see healthful men fall into Vomitings and Fluxes of the Belly by unknown Accidents, and make a great evacuation of Excrements, without any preceding need, or any following benefit, but rather with hurt to their Constitution. 'Tis from the great Plato that I lately learned, that of three sorts of motions which are natural to us, purging is the worst, and that no man, unless he be a Fool, aught to take any thing to that purpose, but in the extremest Necessity: Men disturb and irritate the Disease by contrary Oppositions. It must be the way of living that must gently dissolve, and bring it to its maturity. The violent gripe and contest betwixt the Drug and the Disease, is ever to our loss, since the Combat is fought within ourselves, and that the Drug is an Assistant not to be trusted, being in its own nature an Enemy to our Health; and but by trouble has no access into our Condition. Let it alone a little: the Providence that takes care of Fleas and Moles, does also take care for men, if they will have the same Patience Fleas and Moles have, to leave it to its self. 'Tis to much purpose that we cry out upon it, 'tis the way to make us hoarse, but not to hasten it. 'Tis a proud and uncompassionate Order, our Fears, our Despair, displeases and stops it from, instead of inviting it to our relief. It owes assistance to the Disease, as well as to Health; and will not suffer itself to be corrupted in favour of the one, to the prejudice of the others right, for it would then fall into Disorder. Let us in God's Name follow it. It leads those that follow, and those who will not follow, it drags along both their Fury and Physic together. Order a Purge for your Brain, it will there be much better employed, than upon your Stomach. One ask a Lacedaemonian, who had made him live so long, he made answer, the ignorance of Physic. And the Emperor Adrian continually exclaimed as he was dying, that the crowd of Physicians had killed him. An ill Wrestler turned Physician: Courage, says Diogenes to him, thou hast done well, for now thou wilt throw those who have formerly thrown thee. But they have this Advantage, according to Nicocles, that the Sun gives Light to their Success, and the Earth covers their Failures▪ and besides, they have a very advantageous way of making use of all sorts of Events: for what Fortune, Nature, or any other Causes, (of which the number is infinite) produces of good and healthful in us, it is the Privilege of Physic to attribute to itself. All the happy Successes that happen to the Patient must be derived from thence. The Occasions that have cured me, and thousand others, Physicians usurp to themselves, and their own Skill: and as to ill Accidents, they either absolutely disown them, in laying the fault upon the Patient, by such frivolous and idle Reasons as they can never be to seek for; as he lay with his Arms out of Bed, or he was disturbed with the rattling of a Coach: 

— Rhedarum transitus arcto 
Juvenal. Sat. 3.   
Vicorum inflexu:—   

He heard the Wheels and Horses trampling Feet  
In the strait turning of a narrow Street.   or some body had set open the Casement, or he had lain upon his left side: or had had some odd Fancies in his Head: in sum, a Word, a Dream, or a look, seem to them excuse sufficient wherewith to palliate their own Errors: Or, if they so please, they yet make use of their growing worse, and do their Business that way which can never fail them: which is, by buzzing us in the Ears, when the Disease is more inflamed by their Medicaments, that it had been much worse but for those Remedies. He, who from an ordinary cold, they have thrown into a double Tertian-Ague, had but for them been in a continued Fever. They do not much care what Mischief they do, since it turns to their own Profit. In earnest, they have Reason to require a very favourable belief from their Patients, and indeed it ought to be a very easy one to swallow things so hard to be believed. Plato said very well, that Physicians were the only men that might lie at Pleasure, since our Health depends upon the Vanity and Falsity of their Promises.  
Aesop, a most excellent Author, and of whom few men discover all the Graces, does pleasantly represent to us the tyrannical Authority Physicians usurp over poor Creatures, weakened and subdued by Sickness and Fear; for he tells us, that a sick Person, being asked by his Physician what Operation he found of the Potion he had given him, I have sweat very much, says the sick man; that's good, says the Physician; another time, having asked him him how he felt himself after his Physic, I have been very cold, and have had a great shivering upon me, said he; that is good, replied the Physician: After the third Potion, he asked him again how he did, Why I find myself swelled, and puffed up, said he, as if I had a Dropsy. That is very well, said the Physician. One of his Servants coming presently after to inquire how he felt himself, Truly Friend, said he, with being too well, I am about to die. There was a more just Law in Egypt, by which the Physician for the three first days was to take charge of his Patient, at the Patients own Peril and Fortune: but those three days being past, it was to be at his own. For what Reason is it, that their Patron Aesculapius should be struck with Thunder for restoring Hippolytus from Death to Life, 


Aeneid. lib. 7.  Nam pater omnipotens aliquem indignatus ab umbris  
Mortalem infernis, ad lumina surgere vitae  
Ipse repertorem medicinae talis, & artis  
Flumine Phaebigenam stygias detrusit ad undas.   

For Jupiter, offended at the sight  
Of one he had struck dead, restored to light,  
He struck the Artist durst it undertake  
With his forked lightning to the Stygian Lake.   and his followers be pardoned, who send so many Souls from Life to Death? A Physician, boasting to Nicocles that his Art was of great Authority: It is so indeed, said Nicocles, that can with impunity kill so many People. As to what remains, had I been of their Counsel, I would have rendered my Discipline more sacred and mysterious; they had begun well, but they have not ended so. It was a good beginning to make Gods and Daemons the Authors of their Science, and to have used a peculiar way of speaking and writing. And notwithstanding that, Philosophy concludes it folly to persuade a man to his own good by an unintelligible way: 
Vt si quis medicus imperet ut sumat,  
Terrigenam, herbigradam, domiportam, 
Cicero de Divin. l. 2.  sanguine cassam.  as if a Physician should command his Patient to take Snails by unknown Names and Epithets. It was a good Rule in their Art, and that accompanies all other vain, fantastic, and supernatural Arts, that the Patient's belief should prepossess them with good hope and assurance of their effects and operation. A Rule they hold to that degree, as to maintain that the most inexpert and ignorant Physician is more proper for a Patient that has confidence in him, than the most learned and experienced, that he is not acquainted with. Nay, even the very choice of most of their Drugs is in some sort mysterious and divine. The left foot of a Tortoise, the Urine of a Lizard, the Dung of an Elephant, the Liver of a Mole, Blood drawn from under the Wing of a white Pigeon; and for us who have the Stone, (so scornfully they use us in our Miseries) the Excrement of Rats beaten to Powder, and such like trash and fooleries, which rather carry a face of Magical Enchantment, than any solid Science. I omit the odd number of their Pills, the appointment of certain days and feasts of the year, the Superstition of gathering their Simples at certain hours: and that austere grim Countenance and haughty carriage which Pliny himself so much derides. But they have, as I said, failed, in that they have not added to this fine beginning, the making their Meetings and Consultations more religious and secret, where no profane Person ought to have been admitted, no more than in the secret Ceremonies of Aesculapius. For by Reason of this it falls out, that their irresolution, the weakness of their Arguments, Divination, and Foundations, the sharpness of their Disputes, full of hatred, jealousy, and particular interest, coming to be discovered by every one, a man must be very blind not to discern that he runs a very great hazard in their Hands. Who ever saw one Physician approve of another's Prescription, without taking something away, or adding something to it? By which they sufficiently betray their Art, and make it manifest to us, that they therein more consider their own Reputation, and consequently their Profit, than their Patient's interest. He was a much wiser man of their Tribe, who of old gave it for a Rule, that only one Physician should undertake a sick Person; for if he do nothing to purpose, one single man's default can bring no great scandal upon the Profession; and on the contrary, the glory will be great, if he happen to have good Success, whereas when there are many, they at every turn bring a disrepute upon their Calling, forasmuch as they oftener do hurt than good. They ought to be satisfied with the perpetual disagreement which is found in the Opinions of the principal Masters, and ancient Authors of this Science, which is only known to men well read, without discovering to the vulgar the Controversies and various Judgements which they still nourish and continue amongst themselves; shall we have one Example of the ancient Controversy in Physic? Hierophilus lodges the original cause of all Diseases in the Humours; Erasistratus, in the Blood of the Arteries; Asclepiades, in the invisible Atoms of the Pores; Alcmaeon, in the Exuberancy, or Defect of our bodily strength; Diocles, in the Inequality of the Elements of which the Body is composed, and in the quality of the Air we suck in; Strato, in the Abundance, Crudity, and Corruption of the Nourishment we take; and Hypocrates lodges them in the Spirits. There is a certain Friend of theirs, whom they know better than I, who declares upon this Subject, that the most important Science in Practice amongst us, as that which is entrusted with our Health and Conversation, is by ill luck the greatest misfortune, the most incertain, the most perplexed, and agitated with the greatest Mutations. There is no great danger in mistaking the height of the Sun, or in the fraction of some Astronomical Supputation: but here, where our whole Being is concerned, 'tis not Wisdom to abandon ourselves to the mercy of the Agitation of so many contrary Winds. Before the Peloponnesian War, there was no great talk of this Science: Hypocrates brought it into Repute; and whatever he established, Chrysippus overthrew; after that, Erascistratus, Aristotle's Grandchild, overthrew what Chrysippus had writ. After these, the Empirics started up, who took a quite contrary way to the Ancients in the management of this Art. When the credit of these began a little to decay, Herophilus set another sort of Practice on foot, which Asclepiades in turn stood up against, and overthrew. The Opinions first of Themison, and then of Musa, and after that, those of Vexius valens, a Physician famous through the Intelligence he had with Messalina, came in Vogue. The Empire of Physic in Nero's time was established in Thessalus, who abolished and condemned all that had been held till his time. This man's Doctrine was refuted by Crinus of Marselles, who first brought all Medicinal Operations under the Ephemerideses, and motions of the Stars, and reduced eating, sleeping, and drinking to hours that were most pleasing to Mercury, and the Moon. His Authority was soon after supplanted by Charinus, a Physician of the same City of Marselles; a Man that not only controverted all the ancient methods of Physic, but moreover the usage of hot Baths, that had been generally, and so many Ages before in common Use. He made men bathe in cold Water even in Winter, and plunged his sick Patients in the natural Waters of every stream. No Roman till Pliny's time had ever vouchsafed to practise Physic, that office was only performed by Greeks and Foreigners, as 'tis now amongst us French, by those that sputter Latin; for, as a great Physician says, we do not easily receive the Medicine we understand no more than we do the Drugs we ourselves gether. If the Nations from whence we fetch our Guaiacum, Sarsaparilla, and China wood, converse with Medicine, how great a value must we imagine by the same recommendation of strangeness, rarity, and dear purchase, do they set upon our Cabbage and Parsley? For who would dare to contemn things so far fetched, and sought out at the hazard of so long and dangerous a Voyage?  
Since the ancient mutations in Physic, there have been infinite others down to our own times, and for the most part such as have been infinite, entire, and universal, as those for Example, produced by Paracelsus, Fioravanti, and Argenterius; for they, as I am told, do not only alter one Receipt, but the whole Contexture and Rules of the body of Physic, accusing all others of ignorance and imposition that have practised before them. At this rate, in what a condition the poor Patient must be, I leave you to judge. But if we were yet assured, that when they mistake themselves, that mistake of theirs would do us no harm, though it do us no good, it were a reasonable bargain to venture making ourselves better without any danger of being made worse. Aesop tells a Story, that one who had bought a Morisco Slave, 
A Moor bathed and purged to clear his Complexion.  believing that his black Complexion was accidental in him, and occasioned by the ill usage of his former Master, caused him to enter into a course of Physic, and with great care to be often bathed and purged: it happened that the Moor was nothing amended in his tawny Complexion, but he wholly lost his former Health. How oft do we see Physicians impute the death of their Patients to one another? I remember that some years ago, there was an Epidemical Disease, very dangerous, and for the most part mortal, that raged in the Towns about us: the storm being over, which had swept away an infinite number of men, one of the most Famous Physicians of all the Country presently after published a Book upon that Subject, wherein, upon better Thoughts, he confesses, that the letting blood in that Disease was the principal cause of so many miscarriages. Moreover, their Author's hold, that there is no Physic that has not something hurful in it. And if even those of the best Operation do in some measure offend us, what must those do that are totally misapplied? For my own part, though there were nothing else in the Case, I am of Opinion, that to those that loathe the taste of Physic, it must needs be a dangerous and prejudicial Endeavour to force it down at so incommodious a time, and with so much aversion, and believe that it marvellously distempers a sick Person at a time when he has so much need of Repose. And besides this, if we but consider the occasions upon which they usually ground the cause of our Diseases, they are so light and nice, that I thence conclude a very little Error in the dispensation of their Drugs may do a great deal of mischief. Now, if the mistake of a Physician be so dangerous, we are in but a scurvy Condition; for it is almost impossible but he must often fall into those mistakes: he had need of too many parts, considerations, and circumstances, rightly to levelly his Design: he must know the sick Person's complexion, his temperature, his humours, inclinations, actions, nay, his very thoughts and imaginations. He must be assured of the external circumstances, of the nature of the Place, the quality of the Air and Season, the situation of the Planets, and their influences: he must know in the Disease the Causes, Prognostics, Affections, and Critical days; in the Drugs, the weight, the power of working, the Country, figures, age, and dispensations, and he must know how rightly to proportion and mix them together, to beget a just and perfect proportion; wherein if there be the least error, if amongst so many Springs there be but any one out of order, 'tis enough to destroy us. God knows of how great difficulty most of these things are to be understood. For (for Example) how shall a Physician find out the true sign of the Disease, every Disease being capable of an infinite number of Indications? How many Doubts and Controversies have they amongst themselves upon the Interpretation of Urines? Otherwise, from whence should the continual Debates we see amongst them about the knowledge of the Disease proceed? How would we excuse the error they so oft fall into, of taking one thing for another? In the Disease I have had, were there never so little difficulty in the case, I never found three of one Opinion: which I instance, because I love to introduce Examples wherein I am myself concerned.  
A Gentleman was at Paris lately cut for the Stone by order of the Physicians, in whose Bladder, being accordingly so cut, there was found no more Stone than in the palm of his Hand; and in the same place, a Bishop, who was my particular good Friend, having been earnestly pressed by the major part of the Physicians in Town, whom he consulted, to suffer himself to be cut, to which also, upon their words, I used my interest to persuade him: when he was dead, and opened, it appeared that he had no Stone but in the Reins. They are least excusable for any error in this Disease, by reason that it is in some sort palpable; and 'tis by that, that I conclude Chirurgery to be much more certain, by reason that it sees and feels what it does, and so goes less upon conjecture; whereas the Physicians have no speculum Matricis, by which to discover our Brains, Lungs, and Liver. Even the very promises of Physic are incredible in themselves: for, being to provide against divers and contrary Accidents, that often afflict us at one and the same time, and that have almost a necessary relation, as the heat of the Liver, and the coldness of the Stomach, they will needs persuade us, that of their Ingredients one will heat the Stomach, and the other will cool the Liver: one has its commission to go directly to the Reins, nay, even to the Bladder, without scattering its Operations by the way, and is to retain its Power and Virtue through all those stops and meanders, even to the place to the service of which it is designed, by its own occult propriety: the other will dry the Brain, and another will moisten the Lungs. All these things being mixed in one Potion, is it not a kind of madness to imagine or to hope that these differing Virtues should separate themselves from one another in this mixture and confusion, to perform so many various errands? I should very much fear that they would either lose or change their Tickets, and trouble one another's quarters: And who can imagine but that in this liquid confusion these Faculties must corrupt, confound, and spoil one another? And is not the danger still more, when the making up of this Medicine is entrusted to the Skill and Fidelity of another, to whose mercy we again abandon our Lives? As we have Doublet and Breeches-makers, distinct Trades to Cloth us, and are so much the better fitted, being that each of them meddles only with his own Business, and has less to trouble his head withal than a Tailor that undertakes all; and as in matter of Diet, great Persons, for their better convenience, and to the end they may be better served, have Cooks of distinct Offices, some for Soops and Pottages, and others for Roasting, which one Cook that should undertake the whole Service, could not so well perform, so must we be treated in our Cures. The Egyptians had reason to reject this general Trade of a Physician, and to divide the Profession to several peculiar Diseases, to every part of the Body a particular Operator. For that part was more properly, and with less confusion provided for, being they especially regarded nothing else: Ours are not aware that he who provides for all, provides for nothing, and that the entire government of this Microcosm is more than they are able to undertake. Whilst they were afraid of stopping a Looseness, lest they should put him into a Fever, they killed me a Friend that was worth more than the whole pack of them put altogether. They counterpoise their own Divinations with the present Evils, and because they will not cure the Brain to the prejudice of the Stomach, they offend both with their mutinous and tumultuary Drugs. As to the variety and weakness of Reasons, it is more manifest in this than in any other Art. Aperitive Medicines are proper for a man subject to the Stone, by reason that opening and dilating the Passages, they help forward the slimy Matter whereof Gravel and the Stone is engendered, and convey that downward which begins to harden and gather in the Reins. Aperitive things are dangerous for a man subject to the Stone, by reason that opening and dilating the Passage, they help forward toward the Reins the matter proper to create the Stone, which, by their own propension that way, being apt to seize it, 'tis not to be imagined but that a great deal of what has been so conveyed thither must remain behind. Moreover, if the Medicine happen to meet with any thing too gross to be carried through all those narrow Passages it must pass to be expelled, that obstruction whatever it is, being stirred by these aperitive things, and thrown into those narrow Passages, coming to stop them, will occasion a certain and most painful Death. They have the like constancy in the advices they give us for the regiment of Life. It is good to make water often, for we experimentally see, that in letting it lie long in the Bladder, we give it time to settle the Sedement which will concreate into a Stone: It is good not to make water often, for the heavy Excrements it carried along with it will not be voided without violence, as we see by experience, that a Torrent that runs with force, washes the ground it rowls over much clearer than the course of a slow and tardy Stream. Likewise it is good to have often to do with Women, for that opens the Passages and helps to evacuate Gravel: It is also very ill to have often to do with Women, because it heats, tires, and weakens the Reins. It is good to bathe frequently in hot waters, forasmuch as that refreshes and mollifies the place where the Gravel and Stone lie; and it is also ill, by reason that this application of external heat helps the Reins to bake, harden, and petrify the Matter so disposed. For those who are at the Bath, it is most healthful to eat little at Night, to the end that the Waters they are to drink the next Morning may have a better Operation upon an empty Stomach; on the contrary, it is better to eat little at Dinner, that it hinder not the Operation of the Waters, which is not yet perfect, and not to oppress the Stomach so soon after the other labour, but leave the office of digestion to the Night, which will much better perform it than the Day, where the Body and Soul are in perpetual moving and action; thus do they juggle and cant in all their Discourses at our expense, and cannot give me one Proposition against which I cannot erect a contrary of equal force. Let them then no longer exclaim against those, who in this trouble of Sickness suffer themselves to be gently guided by their own Appetite, and the advice of Nature, and commit themselves to the common Fortune. I have seen in my Travels almost all the famous Baths of Christendom, and for some years past have begun to make use of them myself, for I look upon bathing as generally wholesome, and believe that we suffer no little inconveniences in our Health, by having left off the Custom that was generally observed in former times almost by all Nations, and is yet in many, of bathing every day; and I cannot imagine but that we are much the worse by having our Limbs crusted, and our Pores stopped with dirt and filth. And as to the drinking of them, Fortune has in the first place rendered them not at all unacceptable to my taste; and secondly, they are natural and simple, which at least carry no danger with them though they do us no good. Of which, the infinite crowd of People of all sorts of Complexions that repair thither, I take to be a sufficient warranty: And although I have not there observed any extraordinary and miraculous Effects; but that on the contrary, having more narrowly than ordinary enquired into it, I have found all the reports of such operations that have been spread abroad in those Places, ill grounded and false, and those that believe them (as People are willing to be gulled in what they desire) deceived in them; yet I have seldom known any that have been made worse by those Waters, and a man cannot honestly deny but that they beget a better Appetite, help Digestion, and do in some sort revive us, if we do not go too late and in too weak a Condition, which I would dissuade every one from doing. They have not the virtue to raise men from desperate and inveterate Diseases, but they may help some light Indisposition, or prevent some threatening Alteration. Who does not bring along with him so much cheerfulness as to enjoy the pleasure of the Company he will there meet, and of the Walks and Exercises, to which the amenity of those Places invite us, will doubtless lose the best and surest part of their Effect. For this reason I have hitherto chosen to go to those of the most pleasant Situation, where there was the best conveniency of Lodging, Provision, and Company, as the Baths of Bavieres in France, those of Plombieres in the Frontiers of Germany and Lorraine, those of Baden in Switzerland, those of Lucque in Tuscany, and especially those Della-Villa, which I have the most, and at several Seasons frequented. Every Nation has particular Opinions touching their Use, and several Rules and Methods in using them, and all of them, according to what I have seen almost of like Effect. Drinking of them is not at all received in Germany; they bath for all Diseases only, and will lie dabbling in the Water almost from Sun to Sun. In Italy, when they drink nine days, they bath at least thirty, and commonly drink the Water mixed with some other Drugs to make it work the better. We are here ordered to walk to digest it, there they are kept in bed after taking it till it be wrought off, their Stomaches and Feet having continually hot clothes applied to them all the while: and as the Germans have a particular practice generally to use Cupping and Scarification in the Bath: So the Italians have their Doccie, which are certain little Channels of this hot Water brought through Pipes, and with them bathe an hour in the Morning, and as much in the Afternoon for a Month together, either the Head, Stomach, or any other part where the Grief lies. There are infinite other varieties of Customs in every Country, or rather, there is no manner of resemblance to one another. By which you may see, that this little part of Physic, to which I have only submitted, though the least depending upon Art of all others, has yet a great share of the confusion and incertainty every where else manifest in their Profession. The Poets say whatever they please with greater Emphasis and Grace; witness these two Epigrams. 

Alcon hesterno signum Jovis attigit illa 
Auson Epig.   
Quamvis marmoreus, vim patitur medici:  
Ecce hodie jussus transferri ex aede vetusta,  
Effertur, quamvis sit Deus, atque Lapis.   

Alcon did yesterday Jove's Statue touch,  
Which, although Marble, suffered by it much:  
For to day order being given it should  
Be taken from th' old Temple where it stood,  
The thing without further delay was done,  
Although he was a God, and made of Stone.   and the other, 

Lotus nobiscum est hilaris, coenavit & idem, 
Mart. Epig.   
Inventus mane est mortuus Andragoras,  
Tam subitae mortis causam Faustine requiris?  
In somnis medicum viderat Hermocratem.   

Andragoras bathed, supped, and went well to bed  
Last Night, but in the Morning was found dead;  
Wouldst know, Faustinus, what was his Disease?  
He dreaming saw the Quack, Hermocrates.   Upon which I will relate two Stories: The Baron of Caupene in Chalosse, and I, have betwixt us the Advouzon of a Benefice of great extent, at the foot of our Mountains called Lahontan. It is with the Inhabitants of this Angle, as 'tis said of those of the Vale of Angrougne; they lived a peculiar sort of Life, their Fashions, clothes, and Manners distinct from other People, ruled and governed by certain particular Laws and Usances, received from Father to Son, to which they submitted, without other constraint than the Reverence to Custom. This little State had continued from all Antiquity in so happy a Condition, that no neighbouring Judge was ever put to the trouble of enquiring into their doings, no Advocate ever retained to give them Counsel, nor Stranger ever called in to compose their Differences; nor was ever any of them seen to go a begging. They avoided all Alliances and Traffic with the other World, that they might not corrupt the Purity of their own Government; till, as they say, one of them, in the memory of man, having a mind spurred on with a noble Ambition, contrived to bring his Name into Credit and Reputation, to make one of his Sons something more than ordinary, and having put him to learn to write, made him at last a brave Town Clerk: This Fellow being grown up, began to disdain their ancient Customs, and to buzz into the People's Ears the pomp of the other parts of the Nation. The first prank he played, was, to advise a Friend of his, that some body had offended by sawing off the Horns of one of his Goats, to make his Complaint to the King's Judges thereabout, and so he went on in this Practice, till he spoiled and confounded all. In the tail of this Corruption, they say, there happened another, and of worse consequence, by means of a Physician, who fell in love with one of their Daughters, had a mind to marry her, and to live amongst them. This man first of all began to teach them the names of Fevers, Rheums and Imposthumes, the Seat of the Heart, Liver, and Intestines, a Science till then utterly unknown to them; and instead of Garlic, with which they were wont to cure all manner of Diseases, how painful or extreme soever, he taught them, though it were but for a Cough, or any little Cold, to take strange mixtures, and began to make a Trade, not only of their Healths, but of their Lives. They swear that till than they never perceived the Evening Air to be offensive to the Head, that to drink when they were hot was hurtful, and that the Winds of Autumn were more unwholesome than those of the Spring; that since this use of Physic, they find themselves oppressed with a Legion of unaccustomed Diseases, and that they perceive a general decay in their wont Vigour, and their Lives are cut shorter by the half. This is the first of my Stories.  
The other is, that before I was afflicted with the Stone, hearing that the Blood of a He-Goat was with many in very great esteem, and looked upon as a Celestial Manna reigned down upon these latter Ages for the good and Preservation of the Lives of Men, and having heard it spoken of by men of Understanding for an admirable Drug, and of infallible Operation: I, who have ever thought myself subject to all the accidents that can befall other men, had a mind in my perfect health to furnish myself with this admirable Medicine, and therefore gave order to have a Goat fed at home according to the Receipt: for he must be taken in the hottest Month of all Summer, and must only have aperitive Herbs given him to eat, and White-wine to drink. I came home by chance the very day he was to be killed; and one came and told me, that the Cook had found two or three great Balls in his Paunch, that rattled against one another amongst what he had eaten: I was curious to have all his Entrails brought before me, where, having caused the Skin that enclosed them to be cut, there tumbled out three great lumps, as light as Sponges, so that they appeared to be hollow; but as to the rest, hard and firm without, and spotted and mixed all over with various dead colours. One was perfectly round, and of the bigness of an ordinary Bowl, the other two something less, of an imperfect roundness, as seeming not to be arrived at their full growth. I find by inquiry of People accustomed to open these Animals, that it is a rare and unusual accident. 'Tis likely these are Stones of the same Nature with ours; and if so, it must needs be a very vain hope in those who have the Stone, to extract their Cure from the Blood of a Beast who was himself about to die of the same Disease. For to say that the Blood does not participate of this Contagion, and does not alter its wont Virtue, it is rather to be believed, that nothing is engendered in a Body but by the Conspiracy and Communication of all the Parts: the whole mass works together, though one part contributes more to the work than another, according to the diversity of Operations. Wherefore it is very likely that there was some petrifying quality in all the parts of this Goat. It was not so much for fear of the future, and for myself, that I was curious of this Experiment, but because it falls out in mine, as it does in many other Families, that the Women store up such little Trumperies for the service of the People, using the same Receipt in fifty several Diseases, and such a Receipt as they will not take themselves, and yet triumph in their good Successes. As to what remains, I honour Physicians, not according to the common rule, for Necessity, (for to this Passage may be added another of the Prophet, reproving King Asa for having recourse to a Physician) but for themselves, having known many very good men of that Profession, and most worthy to be believed. I do not attaque them, 'tis their Art I inveigh against, and do not much blame them for making their Advantage of our Folly, for most men do the same. Many Callings, both of greater and less Dignity than theirs, have no other Foundation or Support than public abuse. When I am sick I send for them, if they be near, only to have their Company, and fee them as others do. I give them leave to command me to keep myself warm, because I naturally love to do it, and to appoint Leeks or Lettuce for my Broth, to order me White-wine or Claret, and so all other things at their own Pleasure, which are indifferent to my palate and Custom. I know very well that I do nothing for them in so doing, because sharpness and ill pleasing tastes are accidents of the very Essence of Physic. 
Wine prescribed for the sick Spartans'.  Lycurgus ordered Wine for the sick Spartans': Why? because they abominated the drinking of it when they were well: as a Gentleman, a Neighbour of mine, takes it for a rare Medicine in his Fever, because that naturally he mortally hates the taste. How many do we see amongst them of my Humour, that despise taking Physic themselves, are men of a liberal Diet, and live a quite contrary sort of Life to what they prescribe others? What is this but flatly to abuse our Simplicity. For their own Lives and Healths are no less dear to them than ours are to us, and consequently they would accommodate their Effects to their own Rules, if they did not themselves know how false they are. 'Tis the fear of Death, and of Pain, an impatience of the Disease, and a violent and indiscreet desire of a present Cure that so blinds us: and pure Cowardice that makes our belief so pliable and easy to be imposed upon: and yet most men do not so much believe as they acquiesce and permit, for I hear them find fault and complain as well as we: But they resolve at last; What should I do then? As if Impatience were of itself a better Remedy than Patience. Is there any one of those who have suffered themselves to be persuaded into this miserable Subjection, that does not equally surrender himself to all sorts of Impostures? Who does not give up himself to the mercy of whoever has the impudence to promise him a Cure? 
The sick Persons of Babylon exposed in the market place.  The Babylonians carried their sick into the public Place, the Physician was the People, where every one that passed by, being in humanity and civility obliged to inquire of their Condition, gave some advice according to his own Experience. We do little better, there being not so silly a Woman whose Charms and Drenches we do not make use of, and according to my Humour, if I were to take Physic, I would sooner choose to take theirs than any other, because, at least, if they do no good they will do no harm. What Homer and Plato said of the Egyptians, that they were all Physicians, may be said of all People; there is no one that does not boast of some rare Receipt, and who will not venture it upon his Neighbour if he will permit him. I was the other day in Company where some one of my 
* Meaning that was troubled with the Stone.  fraternity told us of a new sort of Pills made up of a hundred and odd Ingredients: it made us very merry, and was a singular Consolation, for what Rock could withstand so great a battery? And yet I hear by those who have made trial of it, that the least atom of Gravel will not stir for't. I cannot take my hand from the Paper before I have added a word or two more concerning the assurance they give us of the infallibility of their Drugs, and the Experiments they have made.  
The greatest part, and I think above two thirds of the medicinal Virtues consist in the Quintessence, or occult propriety of Simples, of which we can have no other instruction than Use and Custom. For Quintessence is no other than a Quality of which we cannot by our Reason find out the cause. In such Proofs, those they pretend to have acquired by the inspiration of some Daemon, I am content to receive (for I meddle not with Miracles) as also the Proofs which are drawn from things that upon some other account oft fall into use amongst us; as if in Wool, wherewith we are wont to cloth ourselves, there have accidentally some occult desiccative Propriety been found out of curing kib'd Heels, or as if in the Radish we eat for Food, there have been found out some aperitive Operation. Galen reports, that a Man happened to be cured of a Leprosy by drinking Wine out of a Vessel into which a Viper had crept by chance. In which Example, we find the means, and a very likely guide and conduct to this Experience; as we also do in those Physicians pretend to have been directed to by the Example of some Beasts. But in most of their other Experiments, wherein they declare to have been conducted by Fortune, and to have had no other guide than Chance, I find the Progress of this Information incredible. Suppose man looking round about him upon the infinite number of things, Plants, Animals, and Metals, I do not know where he would begin his trial; and though his first fancy should fix him upon an Elk's horn, wherein there must be a very gentle and easy belief, he will yet find himself perplexed in his second Operation. There are so many Maladies, and so many Circumstances laid before him, that before he can arrive at the certainty of the point, to which the perfection of his Experience should arrive, humane sense will be at the end of its lesson: and before he can, amongst this infinity of things, find out what this Horn is amongst so many Diseases, what the Epilepsy, the many Complexions in a melancholic Person, the many Seasons in Winter, the many Nations in the French, the many Ages in Age, the many Celestial Mutations in the Conjunction of Venus and Saturn, and the many Parts in man's Body, nay, in a Finger: and being in all this directed neither by Argument, Conjectures, Example, nor Divine Inspirations, but merely by the sole motion of Fortune; it should be by a perfectly artificial, regular, and methodical Fortune. And after the Cure is performed, how can he assure himself that it was not because the Disease was arrived at its period, or an effect of Chance? or the Operation of something else that he had eaten, drunk, or touched that day? or by Virtue of his Grandmothers Prayers? And moreover, had this Experiment been perfect, how many times was it reiterated, and this long beadrole of Fortunes and Encounters strung anew from Chance to conclude a certain Rule? And when the Rule is concluded, by whom I pray you? Of so many millions, there are but three Men who take upon them to record their Experiments. And must Chance needs just meet one of these? What if another, and a hundred others have made contrary Experiments? We might, peradventure, have some light in this, were all the Judgements and Arguments of men known to us. But that three witnesses, three Doctors, should Lord it over all Mankind is against all reason. It were fit that humane Nature should have deputed and culled them out, and that they were declared our Comptrollers by express Letters of Attorney.  

To Madam de Duras.  
Madam, The last time you honoured me with a Visit, you found me at work upon this Chapter, and being it may happen that these trifles may one day fall into your Ladyship's hands, I will also that they testify in how great honour the Author will take any Favour you shall please to show them. You will there find the same air and behaviour you have observed in his Conversation, and though I could have borrowed some better or more favourable garb than my own, I would not have done it, for I require nothing more of these Writings, but to present me to your Memory, such as I naturally am. The same Conditions and Faculties your Ladyship has been pleased to frequent and receive with much more Honour and Courtesy than they deserve, I will put together. (but without alteration) in one solid Body, that may peradventure continue some years, or some days after I am gone; where you may find them again when your Ladyship shall please to refresh your Memory, without putting you to any greater trouble, neither are they worth it. I desire you should continue the favour of your Friendship to me, by the same Qualities by which it was acquired; and am not ambitious that any one should love and esteem me more dead than living. The Humour of Tiberius is ridiculous, but yet common, who was more solicitous to extend his Renown to Posterity than to render himself acceptable to men of his own time. If I was one of those to whom the World could owe commendation, I would acquit the one half to have the other in hand, that their praises might come quick and crowding about me, more thick than long, more full than durable; and let them cease on God's Name with my knowledge, and when the sweet sound can no longer pierce my Ears. It were an idle Humour to go about, now that I am going to forsake the commerce of Men, to offer myself to them by a new Recommendation. I make no account of the Goods I could not employ in the Service of my Life. And such as I am, I will be elsewhere than in Paper: My Art and Industry have been ever directed to render me good for something; and my Studies, to teach me to do, and not to write. I have made it my whole business to frame my Life. This has been my Trade and my Work. I am less a writer of Books than any thing else. I have coveted so much understanding for the Service of my present and real Conveniences, and not to lay up a stock for my Posterity. Who has any thing of Value in him, let him make it appear in his Manners, in his ordinary Discourses, in his Courtships, and his Quarrels, in Play, in Bed, at Table, in the management of his Affairs, in his Oeconomy. Those that I see make good Books in ill Breeches, should first have mended their Breeches, if they would have been ruled by me. Ask a Spartan, whether he had rather be a good Orator or a good Soldier; and if I was asked the same Question, I would rather choose to be a good Cook, had I not one already to serve me. Good God Madam, how should I hate the Reputation of being a pretty Fellow at Writing, and an Ass and a Sot in every thing else. Yet I had rather be a Fool in any thing than to have made so ill a Choice wherein to employ my Talon. And I am so far from expecting to gain any new Reputation by these Follies, that I shall think I come off pretty well if I lose nothing by it of that little I had before. For besides that this dead painting will take from my natural Being, it has no resemblance to my better Condition, but also much lapsed from my former Vigour and Cheerfulness, and looks faded, and withered. I am towards the bottom of the Barrel, which begins to taste of the Lees. And to the rest, Madam, I should not have dared to make so bold with the Mysteries of Physic, considering the esteem that your Ladyship, and so many others have of it, had I not had encouragement from their own Authors, Pliny, and Celsus. If these ever fall into your hands, you will find that they speak much more rudely of their Art than I do; I but pinch it, they cut the Throat on't. Pliny, amongst other things, twits them with this, That when they are at the end of the Rope, that is, when they have done the utmost of what they are able to do, they have a pretty device to save themselves, of recommending their Patients, whom they have teaz'd and tormented with their Drugs and Diets to no purpose, some to Vows and Miracles, and others to the hot Baths and Waters. (Be not angry, Madam, he speaks not of those in our Parts, who are under the Protection of your House, and all Gramontins.) They have besides another way of saving their own Credit, of ridding their hands of us, and securing themselves from the reproaches we might cast in their Teeth of the little amendment, when they have had us so long in their hands, that they have not one more Invention left wherewith to amuse us; which is, to send us to the better Air of some other Country. This, Madam, is enough; I hope you will give me leave to return to my former Discourse, from which I have so far digressed, the better to divert you.  
It was, I think, Pericles, who being asked how he did, you may judge, says he, by these, showing some little Scrowls of Parchment he had tied about his Neck and Arms. By which he would infer, that he must needs be very sick when he was reduced to a Necessity of having recourse to such idle and vain Fopperies, and of suffering himself to be so equipped. I dare not promise but that I may one day be so much a Fool as to commit my Life and Death to the Mercy and Government of Physicians; I may fall into such a Frenzy: I dare not be responsible for my future Constancy: but then, if any one ask me how I do, I may also answer, as Pericles did, You may judge by this, showing my hand clutched up with six drams of Opium: it will be a very evident sign of a violent sickness: and my Judgement will be very much out of Order. If once fear and impatience get such an Advantage over me, it may very well be concluded that there is a dreadful Fever in my Mind. I have taken the pains to plead this Cause, which I little enough understand, a little to back and support the natural aversion to Drugs and the Practice of Physic, I have derived from my Ancestors: to the end it may not be a mere stupid and temerarious aversion, but have a little more Form; and also, that they who shall see me so obstinate in my Resolution against all Exhortations and Menaces that shall be given me, when my Infirmity shall press hardest upon me, may not think 'tis mere Obstinacy in me; or any one so ill natured, as yet to judge it to be any motive of Glory: For it would be a strange ambition to seek to gain Honour by an Action my Gardener or my Groom can perform as well as I. Certainly, I have not a Heart so tumorous and windy, that I should exchange so solid a Pleasure as Health, for an airy and imaginary Pleasure. Glory, even that of the four Sons of Aymon, is too dear bought to a man of my Humour, if it cost him three swinging fits of the Stone. Give me Health in God's Name! Such as love Physic, may also have good, great, and convincing Considerations; I do not hate Opinions contrary to my own. I am so far from being angry to see a discrepancy betwixt mine and other men's Judgements, and from rendering myself unfit for the Society of Men, for being of another Sense and Party than mine; that on the contrary, (the most general way that Nature has followed being Variety, and more in Souls than Bodies, forasmuch as they are of a more supple substance, and more susceptible of Forms) I find it much more rare to see our Humours and Designs jump and agree. And there never was in the World two Opinions alike, no more than two Hairs, or two Grains. The most Universal Quality, is Diversity.    
The End of the Second Book.   


MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE.   
Printed for T. Bassett M. Gillyflower & W. Hensman.   

ESSAYS OF MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE.  
With Marginal Notes, and Quotations of the cited Authors.  
Made English By CHARLES COTTON, Esq  
The Third and last Volume.  
LONDON, Printed for T. Basset at the George in Fleetstreet, and M. Gillyflower and W. Hensman in Westminster-Hall, 1685.   

THE CONTENTS OF THE CHAPTERS Contained in this Third Book.  

Ch. 1. OF Profit and Honesty. 1.  
Chap. 2. Of Repentance. 26.  
Chap. 3. Of three Commerces. 50.  
Chap. 4. Of Diversion. 71.  
Chap. 5. Upon some Verses of Virgil. 88  
Chap. 6. Of Coaches. 190.  
Chap. 7. Of the inconvenience of Greatness. 222.  
Chap. 8. Of the Art of Conferring. 230.  
Chap. 9 Of Vanity. 269.  
Chap. 10. Of managing the Will. 371.  
Chap. 11. Of Cripples. 410.  
Chap. 12. Of Physiognomy. 428.  
Chap. 13. Of Experience. 477.    

ESSAYS OF Michael Seigneur de Montaigne.  
The Third BOOK.  

CHAP. I. Of Profit and Honesty.  
NO Man is free from speaking foolish things; but the worst on't is, when a Man studies to play the Fool.  

Ne iste magno conatu, magnas nugas dixerit. 
Ter. Heaut. Act. 4. Sc. 1.    

Lest it with him do come to pass,  
To take great Pains to be an Ass.   
This does not concern me, mine slip from me with as little care as they are of little value, and 'tis the better for them. I would presently part with them for what they are worth, and neither buy nor sell them, but as they weigh. I speak in Paper, as I do to the first I meet, and that this is true, observe what follows. To whom ought not Treachery to be hateful, when Tiberius refused it in a thing of so great Importance to him? 
Treachery rejected by Tiberius.  He had word sent him from Germany, that if he thought fit, they would rid him of Ariminius, the most potent Enemy the Romans had, by Poison. He returned answer, That the People of Rome were wont to revenge themselves of their Enemies by open ways, and with their Swords in their hands, and not clandestinely, and by Fraud. Wherein he quitted the utile for the honest. You will tell me that he was a Deceiver, and did not speak as he thought; I believe so too: and 'tis no great Miracle in Men of his Profession. But the acknowledgement of Virtue, is not less valid in the Mouth of him that hates it, for as much as truth forces it from him, and if he will not inwardly receive it, he at least puts it on, and with it makes himself outwardly fine. Our outward and inward Structure is full of imperfection, but there is nothing useless in Nature, not so much as Inutility itself; nothing has insinuated itself into this Universe, that has not therein some fit and proper place. Our Being is cemented with sickly Qualities, Ambition, Jealousy, Envy, Revenge, Superstition and Despair, have so natural a Possession in us, that the Image is discerned in Beasts: Nay, and Cruelty, so unnatural a Vice, for even in the midst of Compassion, we feel within I know not what tart-sweet titillation of ill-natured Pleasure in seeing others suffer, and the Children feel it: 

Suave meri magno turbantibus aequora ventis, 
Lucan. l. 2.   
Et Terra magnum alterius spectare laborem.   

'Tis sweet from Land to see a Storm at Sea,  
And others sinking, whilst ourselves are free.   of the Seeds of which Qualities, whoever should divest man, would destroy the Fundamental Conditions of human Life: Likewise in all Governments there are necessary Offices, 
Vices Necessary in all Governments.  not only abject, but vicious also. Vices have there a help to make up the seam in our piecing; as Poisons are useful for the Conservation of Health. If they become excusable because they are of use to us, and that the common Necessity covers their true Qualities: we are to resign this part to the strongest and boldest Citizens, who sacrifice their Honour and Conscience, as others of old sacrificed their Lives for the good of their Country: We who are weaker, take upon us the parts of Actions, both that are more easy, and less hazardous: the public Weal requires that a Man should betray, and lie, and massacre; let us leave this Commission to Men that are more obedient, and more supple. In earnest, I have often been troubled to see Judges by Fraud, and false hopes of Favour or Pardon, allure a Criminal to confess his Fact, and therein to make use of Cozenage and Impudence. It would become Justice, and Plato himself, who countenances this manner of proceeding, to furnish me with other means more suitable to my own liking. This is a malicious kind of Justice, and I look upon it as no less violated by itself than by others. I said not long since to some company in Discourse, that I should hardly be drawn to betray my Prince for a particular Man, who should be very much ashamed to betray any particular Man for my Prince; and do not only hate deceiving myself, but that any one should deceive through me; I will neither afford matter nor occasion to any such thing. In the little I have had to mediate betwixt our Princes in the Divisions and Subdivisions, by which we are at this time torn to pieces, I have been very careful that they should neither be deceived in me, nor deceive others by me: People of that kind of trading are very reserved, and pretend to be the most moderate imaginable, and nearest to the Opinions of those with whom they have to do; I expose myself in my true Opinion, and after a method the most my own; a young and tender Negotiator, and one who had rather fail in the Affair than be wanting to myself: And yet it has been hitherto with so good luck, (for Fortune has doubtless the best share in it) that little has passed from hand to hand with less suspicion, or more favour and privacy. I have a free and open way that easily insinuates itself, and obtains belief with those with whom I am to deal at the first meeting. Sincerity and pure Truth, in what Age sooner pass for current; and besides, the liberty and freedom of a Man who treats without any Interest of his own, is never hateful or suspected, and he may very well make use of the Answer of Hipperides to the Athenians, who complained of his blunt way of speaking. My Masters, do not consider whether or no I am free, but whether I am so without a Bribe, or without any advantage to my own Affairs. My liberty of Speaking has also easily cleared me from all suspicion of dissembling by its vehemency, (leaving nothing unsaid how home and bitter soever, so that I could have said no worse behind their backs) and in that it carried along with it a manifest show of simplicity and negligence. I pretend to no other fruit by acting than to Act, and add to it no long pursuit nor proposals; every action plays its own Game, win if it can. As to the rest, I am not swayed by any Passion either of love or hatred towards the great ones, nor have my Will captivated either by particular injury or obligation. I look upon our King with an affection simply loyal and respective, neither prompted on nor restrained by any private Interest, and I love myself for it. Neither does the general and just Cause attract me otherwise than with moderation, and without Animosity. I am not subject to these penetrating and entirely affected Engagements. Anger and Hatred are beyond the duty of Justice, and are Passions only useful to those who do not keep themselves strictly to their duty by mere Reason. Vtatur motu animi, qui uti ratione non potest. He only employs his Passion that can make no use of his Reason. All just intentions are temperate of themselves; if otherwise, they degenerate into Seditious and unlawful. This is it which makes me walk every where with my Head erect, my Face and my Heart open. To confess the Truth, and I am not afraid to confess it; I should easily for need hold up one Candle to St. Michael and another to his Dragon, like the old Woman; I will follow the right side even to the fire, but exclusively if I can: Let Montaigne be overwhelmed in the public Ruin, if need be; but if there be no need, I should think myself obliged to Fortune to save me, and I will make use of all the length of line my duty allows for his preservation: Was it not Atticus, who being of the just, but losing side, preserved himself by his moderation, in that universal shipwreck of the World amongst so many mutations and diversities? For private men, as he was, it is more easy; 
That 'tis neither Honourable, nor Honest, to stand Neuter in a Civil War.  and in such kind of work, I find a man may justly not be ambitious to offer and insinuate himself; for a man indeed to be wavering and irresolute, to keep his affection unmoved, and without inclination in the Troubles of his Country, and a public Division, I neither think it handsome nor honest. 
Livy. l. 32.  Ea non media, sed nulla via est, velut eventum expectantum, quo Fortunae consilia sua applicent. That is not a middle way, but no way, to expect Events by which they refer their resolutions to Fortune. This may be allowed in our Neighbour's Affairs, and thus Gelo the Tyrant of Syracuse suspended his inclination in the War betwixt the Greeks and Barbarians, keeping a Resident Ambassador with Presents at Delphos, to lie and watch to see which way Fortune would incline, and then take present occasion to fall in with the Victors. It would be a kind of Treason to proceed after this manner in our own domestic Affairs, wherein a man must of necessity be of the one side or the other; though for a Man who has no Office or express command to call him out, to sit still, I hold it more excusable (and yet I do not excuse myself upon these terms) except in Foreign Expeditions, to which also, according to our Laws, no man is pressed against his will. And yet even those who wholly engage themselves in such a War, may behave themselves with such temper and moderation, that 'tis likely the storm may fly over their heads without doing them any harm. Had we not reason to expect such an issue in the Person of the late Sieur de Morvilliers, late Bishop of Orleans? And I know amongst those who behave themselves the most bravely and briskly in the present War, some whose Manners are so gentle, obliging, and just, that they will certainly stand firm whatever Event Heaven is preparing for us. I am of Opinion, that it properly belongs to Kings only to quarrel Kings, and laugh at those Bully-Rocks, that out of wantonness of Courage, present themselves to so disproportioned disputes: for a Man has never the more particular quarrel to a Prince, for marching openly and boldly against him for his own Honour, and according to his Duty: if he does not love such a Person, he does better he has a Reverence and Esteem for him. And the Cause of defending the Laws, and the Ancient Government of a Kingdom, has this always especially annexed to it, that even those, who for their own private Interest invade them, excuse, if they do not honour the Defenders. But we are not, as we now a days do, to call pievishness and inward discontent, that spring from private Interest and passion, Duty, nor a treacherous and malicious conduct, Courage. They call their propension to mischief and violence, Zeal: 'tis not the Cause, but their Interest that inflames them. They kindle and begin a War, not because it is just, but because it is War. A Man may very well behave himself commodiously and loyally too, amongst those of the adverse Party; carry yourself, if not with the same equal affection (for that is capable of different measures) at least, with an affection moderate, well tempered, and such as shall not so engage you to one Party, that it may expect all you are able to do for that side, and content yourself also with a moderate proportion of their Favour and good Will, and to swim in troubled Waters without fishing in them. The other way of offering a man's self, and the utmost Service he is able to do, both to one Party and the other, has yet in it less of Prudence than Conscience. Does not he to whom you betray another, to whom you was as welcome as to himself, know that you will at another time do as much for him? He holds you for a Villain; and in the mean time hears what you will say, gathers intelligence from you, and works his own ends out of your disloyalty; 
Wherein Double-dealing Men are of Use.  for double-dealing men are useful in bringing in, but we must have a care they carry out as little as is possible. I say nothing to one Party, that I may not upon occasion say to the other, with a little alteration of accent, and report nothing but things either indifferent or known, or what is of common Consequence. I cannot permit myself for any consideration to tell them a Lye. What is entrusted to my secrecy, I religiously conceal; but I take as few trusts of that nature upon me as I can. The Secrets of Princes are a troublesome burden to such as are not interested in them. I very willingly indent that they trust me with little, but confidently rely upon what I tell them: I have ever known more than I desired. One open way of speaking opens another open way of speaking, and draws out discoveries like Wine and Love. Phillipides, in my Opinion, answered King Lysimacus very discreetly, who ask him what of his Estate he should bestow upon him? What you will, said he, provided it be none of your Secrets. I see every one mutters, and is displeased, if the bottom of the Affair be concealed from him wherein he is employed, or that there be any reservation in the thing; for my part, I am content to know no more of the business than what they desire I should employ myself in, nor desire that my Knowledge should exceed or strain my word: If I must serve for an Instrument of deceit, let it be at least with a safe Conscience. I will neither be reputed a Servant so affectionate, nor so loyal, as to be fit to betray any one. Who is unfaithful to himself, is excusably so to his Master. But they are Princes who do not accept men by halves, and despise limited and conditional Services. I cannot help it, I truly tell them how far I can go; for a Slave I should not be, but upon very good Reason, and however I could hardly submit to that Condition. And they also are too blame to exact from a Freeman the same Subjection and Obligation to their Service, they do from him they have made, and bought, or whose Fortune does particularly and expressly depend upon theirs. The Laws have delivered me from a great Anxiety, they have chosen a Master for me, all other Superiority and Obligation ought to be relative to him, and cut off from all other. Yet is not this to say, that if my Affection should otherwise sway and incline me, my hand should presently obey it; the Will and Desire are a Law to themselves; but Actions must receive Commission from the public appointment. All this proceeding of mine is a little dissonant from the ordinary forms; It would produce no great Effects, nor be of any long duration; Innocence itself could not, in this Age of ours, either Negotiate without Dissimulation, or Traffic without Lying. And indeed public Employments are by no means for my palate: what my Profession requires, I perform after the most private manner that I can. Being young, I was engaged up to the Ears in Business, and it succeeded well, but I disengaged myself in due time. I have often since avoided meddling in it, rarely accepted, and never asked it, keeping my back still turned to Ambition: but if not like Rowers, who so advance backward, yet so nevertheless, that I am less obliged to my Resolution than to my good Fortune, that I was not wholly embarked in it. For there are ways less displeasing to my Taste, and more suitable to my Ability, by which, if she had formerly called me to the public Service, and my own Advancement towards the World's Opinion, I know I should, in spite of all my own Arguments to the contrary, have pursued them. Such as commonly say, in Opposition to what I profess, that what I call Freedom, Simplicity, and plainness in my Manners, is Art, and Subtlety, and rather Prudence than Goodness, Industry than Nature, good Sense than good Luck, do me more Honour than Disgrace: but doubtless they make my Subtlety too subtle; and whoever has followed me close, and pried narrowly into me, I will give him the Victory, if he does not confess that there is no Rule in their School that could match this natural Motion, and maintain an appearance of Liberty and Licence so equal and inflexible, through so many various and crooked Paths, and that all their Wit and Endeavour could never have led them through. The way of Truth is one, and simple, that of particular Profit, and the Commodity of Affairs a man is entrusted with, is double, unequal, and casual. I have seen these counterfeit and artificial Liberties practised, but for the most part without Success. They relish of Aesop's Ass, who in Emulation of the Dog, obligingly clapped his two fore Feet upon his Master's shoulders; but as many caresses as the Dog had for such an expression of kindness, twice so many blows with a Cudgel had the poor Ass for his Compliment. 
Cicero de Off. l. 1.  Id maximè quemque decet, quod est cujusque suum maximè. That best becomes every man, that he is best at. I will not deprive Deceit of its due, that were but ill to understand the World: I know it has oft been of great use, and that it maintains and supplies most men's vacancies. There are Vices that are lawful, as there are many Actions either good, or at least excusable, that are not lawful in themselves. That Justice which in itself is natural and universal, is otherwise, and more nobly ordered, than that other Justice, which is peculiar, National, and wrested to the ends of Government. 
Cicero de Off. l. 5.  Veri juris germanaeque Justitiae solidam, & expressam effigiem nullam tenemus; umbra & imaginibus utimur. We retain no solid and express effigies of true right and Justice; we have only the shadow and images of it. Insomuch that the wise Dandamy's hearing the Lives of Socrates, Pythagoras and Diogenes read, judged them to be great men every way, excepting that they were too much subjected to the reverence of the Laws, which to second and authorise, true Virtue must abate very much of its original vigour, and many vicious actions are introduced, not only by their permission, but advice. Ex senatus consultis, 
Seneca Epist. 97.  plebisque scitis scelera exercentur. Vicious Actions are committed by the consent of the Magistrates and the common Laws. I follow the common Phrase, that distinguishes betwixt profitable, and honest things, so as to call some natural Actions, that are not only Profitable and Necessary, Dishonest, and Foul. But let us proceed in our Examples of Treachery: Two Pretenders to the Kingdom of Thrace, were fallen into dispute about their Title; The Emperor hindered them from proceeding to blows: but one of them under colour of bringing things to a friendly issue by an interview, having incited his concurrent to an Entertainment in his own House, took, and killed him. Justice required that the Romans should have Satisfaction for this Offence: but there was a difficulty in obtaining it by ordinary ways. What therefore they could not do by due forms of Law, without a War, and without Danger, they attempted to do by Treachery; and what they could not honestly do, they did profitably. For which end, one Pomponius Flaccus was found to be a fit Instrument: This Man by dissembled Words and assurance, having drawn the other into his Toil, instead of the Honour and Favour he had promised him, sent him bound Hand and Foot to Rome. Here one Traitor betrayed another, contrary to common Custom: for they are full of mistrust, and 'tis hard to overreach them in their own Art: witness the sad Experience we have lately had. Let who will be Pomponius Flaccus, and there are enough that would: for my part, both my Word, and my Faith are like all the rest, parts of this common Body: their best effect is the public Service, which I take for presupposed. But should one command me to take charge of the Palace, and the Records there, I should make answer, that I understood it not; or the command of a Conductor of Pioners, I would say, that I was called to a more honourable Employment: so likewise, he that would employ me to lie, betray, and forswear myself, though not to assassinate, or to poison, for some notable Service, I should say, if I have robbed, or stolen any thing from any man, send me rather to the Galleys. For it is lawful for a Man of Honour to say as the Lacedæmonians did, having been defeated by Antipater, when just upon the point of concluding an agreement, You may impose as heavy and ruinous Taxes upon us as you please, but to command us to do shameful and dishonest things, you will lose your time, for it is to no purpose. Every one ought to make the same vow to himself, that the Kings of Egypt made their Judges solemnly swear, that they would not do any thing contrary to their Consciences, though never so much commanded to it by them themselves. In such Commissions, there is an evident mark of Ignominy and Condemnation. And he who gives it, does at the same time accuse you, and gives it, if you understand it right, for a Burden and a Punishment. As much as the public Affairs are bettered by your Exploit, so much are your own the worse, and the better you behave yourself in it, 'tis so much the worse for yourself. And it will be no new thing, nor peradventure without some colour of Justice, if the same Person ruin you who set you on work. 
Wherein Treachery is only to be excused.  If Treachery can be in any case excusable, it must be only so when it is practised to chastise and betray Treachery. There are Examples enough of Treacheries, not only rejected, but chastised, and punished by those in Favour of whom they were undertaken. Who is ignorant of Fabricius his Sentence against Pyrrhus, his Physician? But this we also find recorded, that some Persons have commanded a thing, who afterward have severely revenged the Execution of it upon him they had employed, rejecting the Reputation of so unbridled an Authority, and disowning so lewd, and so base a Servitude and Obedience. Jaropele, Duke of Russia, tampered with a Gentleman of Hungary to betray Boleslaus King of Poland, either by killing him, or by giving the Russians opportunity to do him some notable Mischief. This Gallant goes presently in hand with it, was more assiduous in the Service of that King than before; so that he obtained the honour to be of his Council, and one of the chiefest in his Trust; with these Advantages, and taking an opportune occasion of his Master's absence, he betrayed Visilicia, a great and rich City, to the Russians, which was entirely sacked and burnt, and not only all the Inhabitants of both Sexes, young and old, put to the Sword, but moreover a great number of Neighbouring Gentry, that he had drawn thither to that wicked end. Jaropele, his Revenge being thus satisfied, and his Anger appeased, which was not however without pretence (for Boleslaus had highly offended him, and after the same manner) and sated with the effect of this Treachery, coming to consider the foulness of it, with a sound Judgement, and clear from Passion, looked upon what had been done with so much horror and remorse, that he caused the Eyes to be bored out, and the Tongue, and shameful Parts to be cut off of him that had performed it. Antigonus persuaded Agaraspides' Soldiers to betray Eumenes their General, his Adversary, into his hands. But after he had caused him so delivered to be slain, he would himself be the Commissioner of the Divine Justice, for the Punishment of so detestable a Crime, and committed them into the hands of the Governor of the Province, with express command by all means to destroy, and bring them all to an evil end. So that of all that great number of men, not so much as one ever returned again into Macedonia. The better he had been served, the more wickedly he judged it to be, and meriting greater Punishment. The Slave that betrayed the place where his Master P. Sulpitius lay concealed, was, according to the promise of Sylla's proscription, 
A Slave thrown from the Tarpeian Rock for his Treason.  manumitted for his Pains: but according to the promise of the public Justice, which was free from any such Engagement, he was thrown headlong from the Tarpeian Rock. And our King Clovis, instead of the Arms of Gold he had promised them, 
Three Servants hanged for betraying Canacre their Master.  caused three of Canacre's Servants to be hanged after they had betrayed their Master to him, though he had debauched them to it. They hanged them with the purse of their Reward about their Necks. After having satisfied their second, and special faith, they satisfy the general, and first. Mahomet the second, being resolved to rid himself of his Brother, out of Jealousy of State, according to the Practice of the Ottoman Family, he employed one of his Officers in the Execution; who pouring a quantity of Water too fast into him, choked him. This being done, to expiate the Murder, he delivered the Murderer into the hands of the Mother of him he had so caused to be put to Death, (for they were but half Brothers by the Father's side) who in his Presence ripped up the Murderers Bosom, and with her own revenging hands rifled his Breast for his Heart, tore it out, and threw it to the Dogs. And even to the vilest Dispositions, it is the sweetest thing imaginable, having once got the trick in a vicious Action, to foist, in all security, into it some show of Virtue and Justice, as by way of Compensation, and Conscientious Remorse. To which may be added, that they look upon the Ministers of such horrid Crimes, as upon People that reproach them with them; and think by their Deaths to race out the Memory and Testimony of such Proceedings. Or if perhaps you are rewarded, not to frustrate the public Necessity of that extreme and desperate Remedy; he that does it, cannot for all that, if he be not such himself, but look upon you as a cursed and execrable fellow; and conclude you a greater Traitor, than he does against whom you are so: for he tries the Lewdness of your Disposition by your own hands; where he cannot possibly be deceived, you having no Object of preceding hatred to move you to such an Act. But he employs you as they do condemned Malefactors in Executions of Justice, an Office as necessary as dishonest. Besides the baseness of such Commissions, there is moreover a Prostitution of Conscience. 
Virgin's could not be put to Death at Rome.  Being the Daughter of Sejanus could not be put to death by the Law of Rome, because she was a Virgin, she was, to make it lawful, first ravished by the Hangman, and then strangled: not only his hand, but his Soul is slave to the public Convenience. When Amurath the first, more grievously to punish his Subjects, who had taken part in the Parricide Rebellion of his Son, ordained, that their nearest Kindred should assist in the Execution; I find it very handsome in some of them, to have rather chosen to be unjustly thought guilty of the Parricide of another, than to serve Justice by a Parricide of their own. And whereas I have seen at the taking of some little Fort by assault in my time, some Rascals, who to save their own Lives; would consent to hang their Friends and Companions; I look upon them to be in a worse Condition than those that were hanged. 'Tis said, that Wittoldus, Prince of Lituania, introduced into that Nation, that the Criminal condemned to death, 
Criminals condemned to execute themselves.  should with his own hand execute the Sentence: thinking it strange that a third Person, innocent of the Fault, should be made guilty of Homicide. A Prince, when by some urgent Circumstance, or some impetuous and unforeseen accident that very much concerns his Estate, compelled to forfeit his Word, and break his Faith, or otherwise forced from his ordinary Duty, aught to attribute this Necessity to a lash of the Divine Rod: Vice it is not, for he has given up his own Reason to a more Universal, and more powerful Reason: but certainly 'tis a misfortune: so that if any one should ask me, What Remedy? None, say I, if he were really racked betwixt these two Extremes, 
Cicero de Off. l. 3.  (sed videat ne quaeratur latebra perjurio) he must do it: but if he did it without regret, if it did not grieve him to do it, 'tis a sign his Conscience is in a scurvy Condition. If there be a Person to be found of so tender a Conscience as to think no cure whatever worth so important a Remedy, I shall like him never the worse. He could not more excusably, or more decently perish. We cannot do all we would. So that we must often, as the last anchorage, commit the protection of our Vessels to the conduct of Heaven. To what more just necessity does he reserve himself? What is less possible for him to do, than what he cannot do but at the expense of his Faith and Honour? Things that perhaps aught to be dearer to him than his own Safety, or the Safety of his People. Though he should with folded arms only call God to his Assistance, has he not reason to hope that the Divine bounty will not refuse the Favour of an extraordinary Arm to just and pure hands? These are dangerous Examples, rare, and sickly exceptions to our natural Rules: we must yield to them, but with great Moderation and Circumspection. No private utility is of such Importance, that we should upon that account strain our Consciences to such a degree: the public may, when very manifest, and of very great concern. Timoleon made a timely expiation for his strange Fact by the Tears he shed, calling to mind that it was with a fraternal hand that he had slain the Tyrant. And it justly pricked his Conscience, that he had been necessitated to purchase the public Utility at so great a price, as the violation of his own Manners. Even the Senate itself, by his means delivered from slavery, durst not positively determine of so high a Fact, and divided into two so important, and contrary Aspects. But the Syracusans, having opportunely at the same time sent to the Corinthians to solicit their Protection, and to require of them a Captain fit to restablish their City in its former Dignity, and to cleanse Sicily of several little Tyrants, by which it was oppressed; they deputed Timoleon for that Service, with this cunning Declaration; That according as he should behave himself, well or ill in his Employment, their Sentence should incline either to favour the deliverer of his Country, or to disfavour the murderer of his Brother. This fantastic Conclusion carries along with it some excuse, by reason of the danger of the Example, and the importance of so bifronted an Action: And they did well to discharge their own Judgement of it, and to refer it to others, who were not so much concerned. But Timoleon's comportment in this Expedition soon made his Cause more clear; so worthily and virtuously he demeaned himself upon all occasions. And the good Fortune that accompanied him in the difficulties he had to overcome in this noble Employment, seemed to be strewed in his way by the Gods, as favourably conspiring for his Justification. This Man's end is excusable, if any can be so. But the profit of the Augmentation of the public Revenue, that served the Roman Senate for a pretence to the foul conclusion I am going to relate, is not sufficient to warranty any such injustice.  
Certain Cities had redeemed themselves and their liberty by money, by the order and consent of the Senate, out of the hands of L. Sylla. The business coming again in question; the Senate condemned them to be taxable as they were before, and that the money they had disbursed for their Redemption should be thrown away. Civil War does often produce such lewd Examples; that we punish private men for confiding in us when we were public Ministers: and the selfsame Magistrate makes another man pay the penalty of his change that cannot help it. The Pedagogue whips his Scholar for his docility, and the Guide beats the blindman that he leads by the hands; a horrid image of Justice. There are Rules in Philosophy that are both false and weak. The Example that is proposed to us, preferring private Utility before Faith given, 
Private Utility not to be preferred before Faith given.  has not weight enough by the Circumstance they put to it. Robbers have seized you, and after having made you swear to pay them a certain sum of money, dismiss you. 'Tis not well done to say, that an honest man can be quit of Oath without payment, being out of their hands. 'Tis no such matter: What fear has once made me willing to do, I am obliged to do it when I am no more in fear. And though that fear only prevailed with my Tongue, without forcing my Will, yet am I bound to keep my Word. For my part, when my Tongue has sometimes inconsiderately said something that I did not think, I have made a Conscience of disowning it. Otherwise, by degrees we shall abolish all the right another pretends to from our promise. 
Cicero de Off. l. 3.  Quasi vero forti viro vis possit adhiberi. As though a Man truly valiant could be compelled. And 'tis only lawful upon the account of private Interest to excuse breach of Promise, when we have promised something that is unlawful and wicked in itself; For the right of Virtue ought to take place of the right of any obligation of ours. I have formerly placed Epaminondas in the first rank of excellent men, and do not repent it. How far did he stretch the consideration of his own particular Duty? who never killed man that he had overcome; who for his inestimable benefit of restoring the liberty of his Country, made Conscience of killing a Tyrant, or his accomplice, without due form of Justice: and who concluded him to be a wicked man, how good a Citizen soever otherwise, who amongst his Enemies spared not his Friend and Acquaintance in Battle. This was a Soul of a rich composure: He married Bounty and Humanity; nay, even the tenderest and most delicate in the whole School of Philosophy, to the rudest and most violent of all humane Actions. Was it Nature or Art that had intenerated that great and brave Courage of his, so constant in dangers, and so obstinate against pain and death, to such an extreme degree of Sweetness and Compassion? Dreadful in War, with fire and blood, he overran and subdued a Nation invincible to all others but to him alone; and yet in the heat of an Encounter could turn aside from his Friend. Certainly he was most fit to command in War, who could so rein himself, with the curb of a good Nature, in the height and heat of his Fury, and a Fury so inflamed and foaming with blood and slaughter. 'Tis almost a miracle to be able to mix any image of Justice with such violent Actions: and it was only possible for such a steadfastness of mind as that of Epaminondas, therein to mix sweetness, and the facility of the gentlest Manners and purest Innocency. And whereas one told the Mammertines, that Statues were of no resistance against armed men; and another told the Tribune of the People, that the time of Justice and War were distinct things; and a third said, that the noise of Arms deafed the voice of the Law: This man in all this rattle was not deaf to that of Civility, and mere Courtesy. Had he not borrowed from his Enemies the custom of sacrificing to the Muses when he went to War, that they might by their sweetness and gaiety soften his Martial and unrelenting Fury? Let us not fear, by the example of so great a Master, to believe that there is something unlawful, even against an Enemy: and that the common Concern ought not to require all things of all, against private Interest: Manente memoria etiam in dissidio publicorum faederum privati juris: 


Ovid. — & nulla potentia vires  
Praestandi, ne quid peccet amicus habet.   

And no power upon Earth can e'er dispense  
Treachery to a Friend without Offence.   and that all things are not lawful to an honest man, for the Service of his Prince, the Laws, or the general Quarrel. 
Cicero de Off. l. 6.3.  Non enim patria praestat omnibus officiis, & ipsi conducit pios habere Cives in Parents. 'Tis an Instruction proper for the time wherein we live: we need not harden our Courages with these Arms of Steel, 'tis enough that our Soldiers are inur'd to them: 'tis enough to dip our Pens in Ink, without dipping them in Blood. If it be grandeur of Courage, and the effect of a rare and singular Virtue to contemn Friendship, private Obligations, a man's Word, and relation for the common good, and Obedience to the Magistrate: 'tis certainly sufficient to excuse us, that 'tis a Grandeur that could have no place in the Grandeur of Epaminondas his Courage. I abominate those mad Exhortations of this other enraged and discomposed Soul.  

Dum tela micant, 
Lucan. l. 7.  non vos pi●tatis imago  
Vlla nec adversa conspecti front parents  
Commoveant, vultus gladio turbate verendos.   

When Sword's are drawn, let no remains of Love,  
Friendship, or Piety, Compassion move:  
But boldly wound the venerable Face  
Of your own Fathers, if opposed in place.   
Let us deprive wicked, bloody, and treacherous Natures of such a pretence of Reason: let us set aside this guilty and extravagant Justice, and stick to more humane imitations. How great things can Time and Example do? In an encounter of the Civil War against Cinna, one of Pompey's Soldiers having unawares killed his Brother, who was of the contrary Party, he immediately for shame and sorrow killed himself: and some years after, in another Civil War of the same People, demanded a Reward of his Office, for having killed his Brother. A Man proves but ill the Honour and Beauty of an Action by its Utility: and Men very ill conclude that every one is obliged, and it becomes every one to do it, if it be of Utility. 


Propert.  Omnia non pariter rerum omnibus apta.   

All things are not alike for all Men fit.   Let us choose what is more necessary and profitable for humane Society; it will be Marriage: and yet the Council of the Saints find the contrary much better, excluding the most honourable vocation of Men: as we design those Horses for Stallions, of which we have the least Esteem.   

CHAP. II. Of Repentance.  
OThers form Man, I only report him: and represent a particular one, ill fashioned enough: and whom, if I had to model a new, I should certainly make him something else than what he is: but that's past recalling. Now, though the Features of my Picture alter and change, 'tis not however unlike. The World eternally turns round, all things therein are incessantly moving, the Earth, the Rocks of Caucasus, and the Pyramids of Egypt, both by the public motion, and their own. Even Constancy itself is no other but a slower and more languishing Motion. I cannot fix my Object, 'tis always tottering and reeling by a natural Giddiness. I take it as it is at the instant I consider of it. I do not paint its Being, I paint its Passage, not a passing from one Age to another, or, as the People say, from seven to seven Years; but from Day to Day, from Minute to Minute. I must accommodate my History to the Hour. I may presently change, not only by Fortune, but also by Intention? 'Tis a counterpart of various and changeable Accidents, and irresolute Imaginations, and, as it falls out, sometimes contrary: whether it be that I am then another self; or that I take Subjects by other Circumstances and considerations; so it is that I may peradventure contradict: but, as Demades said, I never contradict the Truth. Could my Soul once take footing, I would not Essay, but resolve: but it is always learning and making trial. I propose a Life mean, and without lustre? 'Tis all one. All moral Philosophy may as well be applied to a private Life, as to one of the greatest Employment: Every man carries the entire form of human Condition. Authors communicate themselves to the People by some especial Work; I, the first of any, by my universal Being: as Michael de Montaigne, not as a Grammarian, a Poet, or a Lawyer. If the World find fault that I speak of myself, I find fault that they do not so much as think of themselves. But is it reason, that being so particular in my way and manner of living, and of so little Use, I should pretend to recommend myself to the public knowledge? And is it also reason, that I should introduce into the World, where Art and Handling have so much credit and authority, crude, and simple effects of Nature, and of a weak Nature to boot? Is it not to build a Wall without Stone or Brick, or some such thing, to write Books without Learning? The fancies of Music are carried on by Art, mine by Chance: I have this at least according to Discipline, that never any man treated of a Subject he better understood and knew, than what I have undertaken, and that in this I am the most understanding Man alive. Secondly, that never any man penetrated farther into his matter, nor better, and more distinctly sifted the Parts and Consequences of it, nor ever more exactly and fully arrived at the end he proposed to himself. To finish it, I need bring nothing but fidelity to the Work; and that is there, and the most pure and sincere that is any where to be found. I speak truth, not so much as I would, but as much as I dare, and I dare a little the more, as I grow older, for, methinks, Custom allows to Age more liberty of prating, and more indiscretion of talking of a man's self. That cannot fall out here, which I often see elsewhere, that the Work and the Artificer contradict one another: Has a man of so sober Conversation writ so foolish a Treatise? Or do so learned writings proceed from a man of so weak Conversation? Who talks at a very ordinary rate, and writes rarely; is to say that his Capacity is borrowed, and not his own. A learned man is not learned in all things; but a sufficient man is sufficient throughout, even to Ignorance itself. Here my Book and I go hand in hand together. Elsewhere men may recommend or accuse the Work upon the Work-man's account; here they cannot: Who touches the one invades the other. He that shall censure it without knowing him, will more wrong himself than me; who does understand it, gives me all the satisfaction I desire. I shall be happy beyond my desert, if I can obtain only thus much from the public Approbation, as to make men of understanding perceive that I was capable of making my advantage of Knowledge, had I had it, and that I deserved to have been assisted by a better Memory.  
Be pleased here to excuse what I often repeat, that I very rarely repent, and that my Conscience is satisfied with itself, not like the Conscience of an Angel, or that of a Horse, but like the Conscience of a man; always adding this Clause, not one of Ceremony, but a true and real Submission; that I speak enquiring and doubtingly, purely and simply referring myself to the common and accepted beliefs for the Resolution. I do not teach, I only repeat. There is no Vice, that is absolutely so, which does not offend, and that a sound Judgement does not accuse; for there is in it so manifest a Deformity and Inconvenience, that peradventure they are in the right, who say, that it is chiefly begot by Ignorance: So hard it is to imagine that a man can know without abhorring it. Malice sucks up the greatest part of her own venom, and poisons herself. Vice leaves repentance in the Soul, like an Ulcer in the flesh, which is always scratching and lacerating itself: For Reason effaces all other griefs and sorrows, but it begets that of Repentance, which is so much the more grievous, by reason it springs within, as the cold and hot of Fevers are more sharp than those that only strike upon the outward skin. I hold for Vices, (but every one according to its proportion) not only those which Reason and Nature condemn; but those also, the opinion of men, though false and erroneous, have made such, if authorised by Law and Custom. There is likewise no Virtue which does not rejoice a well descended Nature. There is a kind of I know not what congratulation in well doing, that gives us an inward Satisfaction, and a certain generous boldness that accompanies a good Conscience. A Soul daringly vicious, may peradventure arm itself with security, but cannot supply itself with this Complacency and Satisfaction. 'Tis no little Satisfaction to feel a Man's self preserved from the contagion of so depraved an Age, and to say to himself; Whoever could penetrate into my Soul, would not there find me guilty either of the affliction, or the ruin of any one; or of Revenge or Envy, or any offence against the public Laws, or of Novelty, or Trouble, or failure of my word, and though the licence of the Time permits, and teaches every one so to do, yet have I not plundered any French Man's Goods, or taken his Money, and have lived upon what is my own in War as well as Peace; neither have I set any man to work without paying him his Hire. These Testimonies of a good Conscience please, and this natural rejoicing is very beneficial to us, and the only reward that we can never fail of. To ground the recompense of virtuous Actions upon the Approbation of others, is too incertain and unsafe a Foundation, especially in so corrupt and ignorant an Age as this, the good Opinion of the vulgar is injurious. Upon whom do you rely to show you what is recommendable? God defend me from being an honest Man, according to the Descriptions of Honour I daily see every one make of himself. Quae fuerant Vitia, Mores sunt. 
Seneca Epist.  What before were Vices, are now reputed Manners. Some of my Friends have sometimes schooled and tutored me with great Sincerity and Plainness, either of their own voluntary motion, or by me entreated to it, as to an Office, which to a well composed Soul, surpasses not only in Utility, but in Kindness, all other Offices of Friendship. I have always received them with the most open Arms, both of Courtesy and Acknowledgement. But to say the truth, I have often found so much false Measure, both in their Reproaches and Praises, that I had not done much amiss, rather to have erred than to have done well, according to their Method. We chiefly, who live private Lives, not exposed to any other view than our own, aught to have settled a precedent within ourselves, by which to try our Actions: and according to that, sometimes to encourage, and sometimes to correct ourselves. I have my Laws and my Judicature to judge of myself, and apply myself more to those than any other Rules. I do indeed restrain my Actions according to others; but extend them not by any other Rule than my own. You yourself only know if you are cowardly and cruel, loyal and devout: others see you not, and only guests at you by incertain Conjectures, and do not so much see your Nature as your Art. Rely not therefore upon their Opinions, but stick to your own. 
Cicero de Nat. Dei. lib. 1.  Tuo tibi judicio est utendum Virtutis, & vitiorum grave ipsius conscientiae pondus est: qua sublata, jacent omnia. Thou must spend thy own Judgement upon thyself, great is the weight of thy own Conscience in the discovery of thy own Virtues and Vices: which being taken away, all things are lost. But the saying▪ that Repentance immediately follows the Sin, seems not to have respect to Sin in its gayest Dress: which is lodged in us as in its own proper Habitation. One may disown, and retract the Vices that surprise us, and to which we are hurried by Passions; but those which by a long habit are rooted in a strong and vigorous Will, are not subject to Contradiction. 
What Repentance is.  Repentance is no other but a recanting of the Will, and an Opposition to our Fancies, which lead us which way they please. It makes this Person disown his former Virtue and Continency.  

Quae mens est hodie, 
Hor. lib. 4. Ode 10.  cur eadem non puero fuit  
Vel cur his animis incolumes non redeunt genae?   

Why is not my Mind now alas!  
The same that when a Boy it was?  
Or why does not my rosy hue  
Return, my Beauty to renew.   
'Tis an exact life, that contains itself in due order in private: every one may juggle his part, and represent an honest man upon the Stage: but within, and in his own Bosom, where all things are lawful, all things concealed to be regular, there's the point. The next degree is to be so in his House, and in his ordinary Actions, of which we are accountable to none, and where there is no study, nor Artifice. And therefore Bias, setting forth the excellent estate of a private Family, of which, says he, the Master is the same within, by his own Virtue and Temper, that he is abroad, for fear of the Laws, and report of Men. And it was a worthy saying of Julius Drufus, to the Masons who offered him for three thousand Crowns to put his House in such a Posture that his Neighbours should no more have the same Inspection into it as before; I will give you, said he, six thousand, to make it so that every body may see into every Room. 'Tis honourably recorded of Argesilaus, that he used in his Journeys always to take up his Lodgings in Temples, to the end that the People, and the Gods themselves, might pry into his most private Actions. Such a one has been a Miracle to the World, in whom neither his Wife nor Servant have ever seen any thing so much as remarkable. Few men have been admired by their own Domestics. 
No man a Prophet in his own Country.  And no one has been a Prophet, not only in his own House, but in his own Country, says the Experience of Histories? 'Tis the same in things of nought▪ In this low example, the Image of a greater is to be seen. In my Country of Gascony, they look upon it as a Drollery to see me in print. The further off I am read from my own home, the better I am esteemed. I am fain to purchase Printers in Guienne, elsewhere they purchase me. Upon this it is, that they lay their foundation, who conceal themselves present, and living, to obtain a Name when they are absent, and dead. I had rather have a great deal less in hand, and do not expose myself to the World upon any other account than my present share; when I leave it, I quit the rest. The People reconduct such a one with public Wonders and Applause to his very Door, he puts off this pageantry with his Robe, and falls so much the lower by how much he was higher exalted. In himself within, all is in tumult and disorder. And though all should be regular there, it will require a quick and well chosen Judgement that can perceive it in these low and private Actions. To which may be added, that Order is a heavy, melancholic Virtue: to enter a Breach, carry an Embassy, and govern a People, are Actions of Renown: to reprehend, laugh, sell, pay, love, hate, and gently and justly converse with a man's own Family, and with himself; not to relent, not to give a man's self the lie, is more rare and hard, and less remarkable. By which means retired lives, whatever is said to the contrary, undergo Offices of as great, or greater difficulty than the other do. And private men, says Aristotle, serve Virtue more painfully and assiduously, than those in Authority do. We prepare ourselves for eminent Occasions, more out of Glory than Conscience. The shortest way to arrive at Glory, should be to do that for Conscience which we do for Glory. And the Virtue of Alexander appears to me with much less Vigour in his Theatre, than that of Socrates in his mean and obscure Employment. I can easily conceive Socrates in the place of Alexander, but Alexander in that of Socrates I cannot. Who shall ask the one what he can do, he will answer, subdue the World: And who shall put the same question to the other, he will say, carry on humane Life conformable to its natural Condition; a much more general, weighty, and legitimate Knowledge than the other. The Virtue of the Soul does not consist in flying high, but walking orderly; its Grandeur does not exercise itself in Grandeur, but in Mediocrity. As they who judge and try us within, make no great account of the lustre of public Actions; and see they are only streaks and rays of clear Water springing from a slimy and muddy bottom: So likewise they who judge of us by this gallant outward appearance, in like manner conclude of our internal Constitution; and cannot couple common Faculties, and like their own with the other Faculties, that astonish them, and are so far out of their sights. Therefore it is, that we give such savage forms to Demons. And who does not give Tamburlaine great Eyebrows, wide Nostrils, a dreadful Face, and a prodigious Stature, according to the imagination he has conceived by the report of his Name? Had any one formerly brought me to Erasmus, I should hardly have believed, but that all was Adage and Apothegme he spoke to his Man, or his Hostess. We much more aptly imagine an Artisan upon his Close-stool, or upon his Wife, than a great Precedent venerable by his port and sufficiency. We fancy that they will not abase themselves so much from their high Tribunals, as to live. As vicious Souls are often incited by some strange impulse to do well, so are virtuous Souls to do ill. They are therefore to be judged by their settled state when they are near repose, and in their native station. Natural inclinations are much assisted and fortified by Education, but they seldom alter and overcome their Institution. A thousand Natures of my time have escaped towards Virtue or Vice through a quite contrary Discipline.  

Sic ubi desuetae silvis in carcere clausae 
Lucan. lib. 4.   
Mansuevere ferae, & vultus posuere minaces  
Atque hominem didicere pati, si torrida parvus  
Venit in Ora cruor, redeunt rabiesque furorque,  
Admonitaeque tument gustato sanguine fauces,  
Fervet, & à trepido vix abstinet ira magistro.   

So savage Beasts, when they are Captive made,  
Grow tame, and half forget their kill trade;  
Demit their fierce looks, and themselves inure  
The Government of mankind to endure:  
But if again the blood for which they burn  
They taste, their rage and fury then return,  
They thirst for more, grow fell, and wildly stare,  
And scarce their trembling Masters do forbear.   
These original Qualities are not to be rootted out, they may be covered and concealed. The Latin Tongue is as it were natural to me, I understand it better than French, but I have not used to speak it, nor hardly to write it these forty years; and yet upon extreme and sudden emotions which I have fallen into twice or thrice in my Life, (and once seeing my Father in perfect health fall upon me in a swoon.) I have always uttered my first out-cries and ejaculations in Latin. Nature starting up, and forcibly expressing itself in spite of so long a Discontinuation; and this Example is said of many others. They who in my time have attempted to correct the Manners of the World by new Opinions, have indeed reformed seeming Vices, but the real and essential Vices they leave as they were, if they do not augment them; and augmentation is therein to be feared; we defer all other well doing of less cost and greater merit, upon the account of these external Reformations, and thereby expiate good cheap, for the other natural, consubstantial and intestine Vices. Look a little into our Experience. There is no man, if he listen to himself, who does not in himself discover a particular and governing Form of his own that justles his Education, and wrestles with the tempest of Passions that are contrary to him. For my part, I seldom find myself agitated with Surprises; I almost always find myself in my place, as heavy and unwieldy Bodies do: If I am not at home, I am always near at hand; my Debauches do not transport me very far, there is nothing strange or extreme in the case; and yet I have sound and vigorous Raptures and Delights. The true Condemnation, and which touches the common practice of Men, is, that their very Progress itself is full of Filth and Corruption; the Idea of their Reformation blotted, their Repentance sick and faulty, as much very near as their Sin. Some, either for having been linked to Vice by a natural Propension, or long Practice, cannot see the Deformity of it. Others (of which Constitution I am) do indeed weigh Vice, but they counter-balance it with Pleasure, or some other occasion, and suffer, and lend themselves to it for a certain price; but viciously and basely however: yet there might happily be imagined so vast a disproportion of measure, where with justice the Pleasure might excuse the Sin, as we say of profit; not only if accidental, and out of Sin, as in Thefts; but in the very exercise of it; as in the enjoyment of Women, where the Temptation is violent, and 'tis said, sometimes not to be overcome.  
Being the other day at Armaignac, which appertains to a Kinsman of mine, I there saw a Country Fellow that was by every one nicknamed the Thief; who thus related the story of his own Life: That being born a Beggar, and finding that he should not be able to get his living by his hands, he resolved to turn Thief, and by means of his strength of Body, had exercised this trade all the time of his Youth in great security; for he ever made his Harvest and Vintage in other men's Grounds, but a great way off, and in so great Quantities, that it was not to be imagined one man could have carried away so much in one night upon his Shoulders; and moreover, was so careful equally to divide and distribute the mischief he did, that the loss was of less Importance to every particular man. He is now grown old and rich, for a man of his Condition, thanks be to his Trade, which he openly confesses to every one: and to make his Peace with God▪ he says, that he is daily ready by good Offices to make satisfaction to the Successors of those he has robbed, and if he do not finish, (for to do it all at once he is not able) he will then leave it in charge to his Heirs to perform the rest proportionably to wrong he himself only knows he has done to every one. By this Description, whether true or false, this Man looks upon Theft as a dishonest Action, and hates it, but less than Poverty, and does simply repent; but for as much as was thus recompensed he reputes not. This is not that habit that incorporates us into Vice, and conforms even our Understanding itself to it, nor is it that impetuous Whirlwind that by gusts troubles and blinds our Souls, and for the time, precipitates us, Judgement and all, into the power of Vice.  
I customarily do what I do thoroughly, I make but one step on't; I have rarely any movement that hides itself and steals away from my Reason, and that does not upon the matter proceed by the consent of all my Faculties, without decision, or intestine Sedition; my Judgement is to have all the blame, or all the praise, and the blame it once has it has always, for I have from my Infancy almost always had the same inclination, the same speed, and the same force. And as to universal Opinions, I fixed myself from my Childhood in the place where I resolved to stick. There are some Sins that are impetuous, prompt, and sudden, let us set them aside; but in these other Sins so oft repeated, deliberated and contrived, whether Sins of Complexion, or Sins of Profession and Vocation; I cannot conceive that they can have so long been settled in the same Resolution, unless the Reason and Conscience of him who has them be constant to have them so, and the Repentance he boasts to be inspired with on a sudden, is very hard for me to imagine. I follow not the Opinion of the Pythagorean Sect, that men take up a new Soul when they repair to the Images of the Gods to receive Oracles, unless they mean that it is new, and lent for the time, our own showing so small sign of Purification and Cleanness, fit for such an Office. They act quite contrary to the Stoical Precepts, that do indeed command us to correct the Imperfections which we know ourselves guilty of, but forbids us to disturb the Repose of our Souls. These make us believe that they have great Grief and Remorse within: but of Amendment, Correction, or Demonstration, they make nothing appear. It cannot certainly be a perfect Cure, if the Humour be not wholly discharged, if Repentance were laid upon the Scale of a Balance, it would weigh down Sin. 
Devotion easy to counterfeit.  I find no quality so easy to counterfeit, as Devotion, provided they do not conform their Manners and Life to the Profession: its Essence is abstruse and occult, the apparences easy and majestic. For my own part, I may desire in general to be other than I am; I may condemn and dislike my whole frame, and beg of Almighty God for an entire Reformation, and that he will please to pardon my natural Infirmity: but I ought not to call this Repentance, methinks, no more than the being dissatisfied that I am not an Angel, or Cato: my Actions are conformable to what I am, and to my Condition. I can do no better, and Repentance is not properly concerned in things that are not in our Power; Sorrow is. I imagine an infinite number of Souls more elevated and regular than mine; and yet I do not for all that improve my Faculties no more than my Arm, or will grow more strong and vigorous for conceiving those of another to be so. If to imagine and wish a nobler way of acting than that we have, 
Repentance whence produced.  should produce a Repentance of our own, we must then repent us of our most innocent Actions, forasmuch as we well suppose, that in a more excellent Nature they would have been carried on with greater Dignity and Perfection; and would that ours were so. When I reflect upon the Deportments of my Youth, with that of my old age, I find that I have behaved myself equally well in both, according to what I understand. This is all that my resistance can do. I do not flatter myself; in the same Circumstance I should do the same things. It is not a Spot, but rather an universal Tincture, with which I am imbued. I know no mean Ceremonies, and superficial Repentance. It must sting me all over before I can call it so, and that it prick my Bowels as deep and universally as God sees into me. As to Employment, many good Opportunities have escaped me for want of good Conduct; and yet my Deliberations were sound enough, according to the occurrences presented to me. 'Tis their way to choose always the easiest and the safest course. I find that in my former Counsels, I have proceeded with Discretion, according to my own rule, and according to the state of the subject proposed, and should do the same a thousand years hence in like Occasions. I do not consider what it is now, but what it was then, when I deliberated on it. The force of all Counsel consists in the Time; Occasions, and things eternally shift and change. I have in my Life committed some great and important Errors, not for want of good Understanding, but for want of good Luck. There are secret, and not to be foreseen parts in matters we have in handling, especially in the Nature of men; mute Conditions, that make no show, unknown sometimes even to the Professors themselves; that spring and start up by accidental Occasions. If my Prudence could not penetrate into, nor foresee them, I blame it not: 'tis commissioned no further than its own limits. If the event be too hard for me, and take the side I have refused, there is no Remedy, I do not blame myself, I accuse my Fortune, and not my own handy Work; this cannot be called Repentance. Photion, having given the Athenians an Advice that was not followed, and the Affair nevertheless succeeding contrary to his Opinion, some one said to him; Well, Photion, art thou content that Matters go so well? I am very well pleased replied he, that this has happened so well, but I do not repent that I counselled the other. When any of my Friends address themselves to me for Advice, I give it candidly and clearly, without sticking, as almost all other men do, at the hazard of the thing, that it may fall out contrary to my Opinion, by which means I may be reproached for my Counsel; I am very indifferent as to that: For the Fault will be theirs in having consulted me; and I could not refuse them my best Advice. ay, for my own part, can rarely blame any one but myself, for my oversights and Misfortunes. For indeed I seldom consult the Advice of another, if not by Honour of Ceremony, or excepting where I stand in need of Information, as to matter of Fact. But in things wherein I stand in need of nothing but Judgement, other men's Reasons may serve to fortify my own, but have little power to dissuade me. I hear them with Civility and Patience all; but to my knowledge, I never made use of any but my own. With me they are but Flies and Atoms, that confound and distract my Will. I lay no great stress upon my Opinions; but I lay as little upon those of others, and Fortune rewards me accordingly. If I receive but little Advice, I also give but little; I seldom consult others, and am seldom believed, and know no concern either public or private, that has been mended or bettered by my Advice. Even they whom Fortune had in some sort tied to my Direction, have more willingly suffered themselves to be governed by any other Counsels than mine; and as a man who is as jealous of my repose as of my Authority, I am better pleased that it should be so. In leaving me there, they humour what I profess, which is to settle and wholly contain myself within myself: I take a pleasure in being uninteressed from other men's Affairs, and disengaged from being their warranty, and responsible for what they do. In all Affairs that are past, be it how it will, I have very little regret; for this Imagination puts me out of my pain, that they ought so to fall out: they are in the great revolution of the World, and in the Chain of Stoical Causes: your Fancy cannot, by wish and Imagination, remove one tittle, but that the great current of things will reverse both the past and the future. As to the rest, I abominate that accidental Repentance which old Age brings along with it: and he, who said of old, that he was obliged to his Age for having weaned him from Pleasure, was of of another Opinion than I am; I can never think myself beholding to Impotency for any good it can ever do me. Nec tam aversa unquam videbitur ab opere suo Providentia, ut debilitas inter optima inventa sit. Nor can Providence ever be seen so averse to her own Work, that debility should be ranked amongst the best things. Our Appetites are rare in old age; a profound Satiety seizes us after the Act; I see nothing of Conscience in this, heaviness and weakness imprint in us a drowsy and rheumatic Virtue. We must not suffer ourselves to be so wholly carried away by natural alterations, as to suffer our Judgements to be imposed upon by them. Youth and Pleasure have not formerly so far prevailed upon me, that I did not well enough discern the face of Vice in Pleasure, neither does the nausity that years have brought me, so far prevail with me now, that I cannot discern Pleasure in Vice. Now that I am no more in my flourishing Age, I judge as well of these things as if I was. ay, who narrowly and strictly examine it, find my Reason the very same it was in my most licentious age, if not perhaps a little weaker, and more decayed by being grown old; and I find that the Pleasure it refuses me upon the account of my bodily Health, it would no more refuse it now in Consideration of the health of my Soul than at any time heretofore. I do not repute it more valiant for being out of Combat. My temptations are so broken and mortified, that they are not worth its Oppositions, holding but out my hands I repel them. Should one present the old Concupiscence before it, I fear it would have less power to resist it than heretofore. I do not discern that in itself it judges any thing otherwise now, than it formerly did, nor that it has acquired any new light. Wherefore, if there be convalescence, 'tis an enchanted one. Miserable kind of Remedy to owe a man's Health to his Disease. 'Tis not for our misfortune to perform this Office, but for the good fortune of our Judgement. I am not to be made to do any thing by Persecutions and Afflictions, but curse them. That is for People that are not to be roused but by a Whip; my Reason is much more active in Prosperity, and much more distracted, and put to't to digest Pains than Pleasures. I see best in a clear Sky. Health does premonish me, as more cheerfully, so to better purpose than Sickness. I did all that in me lay to reform and regulate myself from Pleasures at all times, when I had Health and Vigour to enjoy them. I should be troubled and ashamed, that the Misery and Misfortune of my Age, should be preferred before my good, healthful, sprightly, and vigorous Years; and that men should esteem me, not for what I have been, but by that miserable part of myself, where I have, as it were, ceased to be. In my Opinion 'tis the happy Living, and not (as said Antisthenes) the happy Dying, in which humane Felicity consists. I have not made it my Business to make a monstrous addition of a Philosopher's tail to the Head and Body of a Libertine: nor would I have this wretched remainder give the lie to the pleasant, sound, and long part of my Life. I will present myself uniformly throughout. Were I to live my Life over again, I should live it just as I have done. I neither complain of the past, nor do I fear the future; and If I am not much deceived, I am the same within that I am without. 'Tis one main Obligation I have to Fortune, that the Succession of my bodily Estate has been carried on according to the natural Seasons; I have seen the Grass, the Blossoms, and the Fruit, and now see the Tree withered: happily however, because naturally. I bear the Infirmities I have the better, because they came not till I had Reason to expect them; and because also they make me with greater Pleasure remember that long Felicity of my past Life. My Wisdom peradventure may have been the same in both Ages; but it was more active, and of better Grace whilst young and sprightly, than now it is when broken, peevish, and uneasy. I renounce then these casual and painful Reformations, God must touch our Hearts, and our Consciences must amend of themselves, by the force of our Reason, and not by the decay of our Appetites. Pleasure is in itself neither pale nor discoloured, to be discerned by dim and decayed Eyes. We ought to love Temperance for itself, and because God has commanded that and Chastity; but what we are reduced to by Catarrhs, and that I am obliged to the Stone for, is neither Chastity nor Temperance. A Man cannot boast that he despises and resists Pleasure, if he cannot see it; if he knows not what it is, cannot discern its graces, forces, and most alluring Beauties; I know both the one and the other, and may therefore the better say it; but, methinks, our Souls in old Age are subject to more troublesome maladies and imperfections than in Youth. I said the same when young, and that I was reproached with the want of a Beard, and I say so now that my grey Hairs give me some Authority; we call the difficulty of our Humours, and the disrelish of present things, Wisdom, but in truth we do not so much forsake Vices as we change them, and in my opinion, for worse. Besides a foolish and feeble Pride, an impertinent Prating, froward and insociable Humours, Superstition, and a ridiculous desire of Riches when we have lost the Use; I find more Envy, Injustice and Malice. Age imprints more wrinkles in the Mind than it does in the Face, and Souls are never, or very rarely seen, that in growing old do not smell sour and musty. Man moves all together, both towards his perfection and decay. In observing the Wisdom of Socrates, and many Circumstances of his condemnation, I should dare to believe, that he in some sort himself purposely by collusion contributed to it, seeing that at the age of seventy years he suffered the lofty motions of his Wit to be so cramped, and his wont lustre to be so obscured. What strange Metamorphoses do I see Age every day make in many of my acquaintance? 'tis a potent Malady, and that naturally and imperceptibly steals into us, and vast provision of study, and great precaution are required to evade the imperfections it loads us with, or at least, to obstruct their progress. I find, that notwithstanding all my retrenchments, it gets foot by foot upon me; I make the best resistance I can, but I do not know to what at last it will reduce me; but fall out what will, I am content the World may know when I am fallen, from whence I fell.   

CHAP. III. Of three Commerces.  
WE must not rivet ourselves so fast to these Humours and Complexions. Our chiefest sufficiency is to know how to apply ourselves to divers Employments. 'Tis to be, but not to live, to keep a man's self tied and bound by necessity to one only Course. Those are the bravest Souls that have in them the most variety, and that are most flexible and pliant; of which here is an honourable Testimony of the elder Cato: Huic versatile ingenium sic pariter ad omnia fuit, 
Livius, l. 34.  ut natum ad id unum diceres, quodcumque ageret. This Man's Parts were so convertible to all Uses, that a man would think he were born only for what ever he did. Might I have the liberty to dress myself after my own Mode, there is no so graceful fashion to which I would be so fixed, as not to be able to disengage myself from it. Life is an unequal, irregular, and multiform Motion. 'Tis not to be a Friend to a man's self, much less a Master; 'tis not to be a Slave so incessantly, to be so led by the nose by ones own Inclinations, that a man cannot turn aside nor writhe his neck out of the collar. 
That our Inclinations are not always to be followed.  I speak it now in this part of my Life, wherein I find I cannot disengage myself from the importunity of my Soul, by reason that it cannot commonly amuse itself, but on things wherein it is perplexed, nor employ itself but entirely, and with all its force. Upon the lightest Subject can be offered, it makes it infinitely greater, and stretches it to that degree, as therein to employ its utmost power, wherefore its Idleness is to me a very painful Labour, and very prejudicial to my Health. Most men's minds require foreign matter to exercise and enliven them; mine has rather need to sit still and repose itself; 
Senec. Epist. 56.  Vitia otii negotio discutienda sunt. The vices of Sloth are to be shaked off by business; for its chiefest and most painful study is to study itself. Books are to it a sort of employment that debauches it from its study. Upon the first Thoughts that possess it, it begins to bustle and make trial of a Vigour in all Senses, exercises its power of handling, sometimes making trial of its force, and then fortifying, moderating and ranging itself by the way of Grace and Order. It has of its own wherewith to rouse its Faculties: Nature has given to it, as to all others, matter enough of its own to make advantage of, and Subjects proper enough, where it may either invent or judge. Meditation is a powerful and full study to such as can effectually employ themselves. I had rather forge my Soul than furnish it. There is no employment, either more weak or more strong, than that of entertaining a man's own Thoughts, according as the Soul is. The greatest men make it their whole business, 
Cice. Thus. l. 5.  quibus vivere est cogitare. To whom to live is to think. Nature has also favoured it with this privilege, that there is nothing we can do so long, nor any Action to which we more frequently and with greater facility addict ourselves. 'Tis the business of the Gods, says Aristotle, and from whence both their beatitude and ours proceed. The principal use of Reading to me, is, that by various Objects it rouzes my Reason, and employs my Judgement, not my Memory. Few entertainments than detain me without force and violence; it is true, that the beauty and neatness of a Work take as much or more with me than the weight and depth of the Subject: And forasmuch as I slumber in all other communication, and give but a negligent attention, it often falls out, that in such mean and pitiful Discourses, I either make strange and ridiculous Answers unbecoming a Child, or more indiscreetly and rudely maintain an obstinate Silence. I have a melancholic and pensive way, that withdraws me into myself, and to that a stupid and childish Ignorance of many very ordinary things, by which two Qualities I have obtained, that men may truly report five or six as ridiculous tales of me as of any other whatever. But to proceed in my Subject; this difficult Complexion of mine renders me very nice in my conversation with men, whom I must cull and pick out for my purpose, and unfit for common Society. We live and negotiate with the People; if their Conversation be troublesome to us, if we disdain to apply ourselves to mean and vulgar Souls, (and the mean and vulgar are oft as regular as those of the finest thread; and all wisdom is folly that does not accommodate itself to the common Ignorance) we must no more intermeddle either with other men's Affairs or our own; and all business both public and private must be managed apart from the Popular. The less forced, and most natural motions of the Soul, are the most beautiful; the best employments, those that are least constrained. Good God how good an Office does Wisdom to those whose desires it limits to their Power? That is the most happy Knowledge. What a man can, was the Sentence Socrates was so much in love withal, a Motto of great substance; we moderate and adapt our desires to the nearest and easiest to be acquired things. Is it not a foolish Humour of mine, to separate myself from a thousand to whom my Fortune has conjoined me, and without whom I cannot live, to cleave to one or two that are out of my Commerce, or rather a fantastic desire of a thing I cannot obtain? My gentle and easy Manners, enemies of all soureness in Conversation, may easily enough have secured me from the Envy and Animosities of men; I do not say so as to be beloved, but never any man gave less occasions of being hated; but the coldness of my Conversation has reasonably deprived me of the good Will of many, who are to be excused if they interpret it in another and worse sense. I am best at contracting, and maintain rare and exquisite Friendships; for by reason that I so greedily seize upon such Acquaintance as fits my liking, I throw myself with such violence upon them that I hardly fail to stick, and oft make an Impression where I hit, as I have often made happy proof. I am in some sort cold and shy, for my motion is not natural, if not with full sail: Besides, my Fortune having trained me up from my Youth in, and given me a relish of one sole and perfect Friendship, it has in truth given me a kind of nausity to meaner Conversations, and too much imprinted in my Fancy, that they are Beasts of Company, as the Ancient said, but not of the Herd. And also I have a natural difficulty of communicating myself by halves, and that Reservation, servile, and jealous Prudence required in the conversation of numerous and imperfect Friendships. And we are principally enjoined to these in this Age of ours, when we cannot talk of the World, but either with danger or falsehood. Yet do I very well discern, that he who has the Conveniencies (I mean the the essential Conveniencies) of Life for his end, as I have, aught to fly these difficulties and delicacy of Humour as much as the Plague. I should commend a Soul of several Stories, that knows both how to bend and to slacken itself, that finds itself at ease in all Conditions of Fortune, that can discourse with a Neighbour, of his Building, Hunting, or any little Contention betwixt him and another: that can chat with a Carpenter or a Gardener with Pleasure. I envy those who can render themselves familiar with the meanest of their Followers, and divert themselves with their own Attendants: and dislike the Advice of Plato, that Men should always speak in a Magisterial tone to their Servants, whether Men or Women; without being sometimes facetious and familiar. For besides my reason, 
Magisterial Language to Servants reproved.  'tis inhuman and unjust, to set so great a value upon this pitiful prerogative of Fortune; and the Governments, wherein less disparity is permitted betwixt Masters and Servants, seem to me the most equitable. Others study how to raise and elevate their Minds, I, how to humble mine, and to bring it low; 'tis only vicious in extension.  

Narras, & genus Aeaci 
Hor. lib. 3. Ode 19   
Et pugnata sacro bella sub Ilio;  
Quo Chium pretio cadum  
Mercemur, quis aquam temperet ignibus,  
Quo praebente domum, & quota  
Pelignis caream frigoribus, taces.   


paraphrased by T. F.  Thou poorest on Helvi●us, and studiest in vain,  
How many years passed betwixt King and King's Reign;  
To make an old Woman even twitter for joy  
At an eighty eight story, or the scuffle at Troy.  
But where the good Wine, and best fire is,  
When the cruel North wind does blow,  
And the Trees do penance in Snow;  
Where the Poet's delight and desire is,  
Thou pitiful Book-worm ne'er troublest thy Brain.   
Thus, as the Lacedaemonian Valour stood in need of Moderation, and of the sweet and harmonious sound of Flutes to soften them in Battle, lest they should precipitate themselves into Temerity and Fury; whereas all other Nations commonly make use of harsh and shrill sounds, and of loud and imperious Voices, to incite and heat the Soldier's Courage to the last degree: so, methinks, that contrary to the usual Method, in the Practice of our Minds, we have for the most part more need of Lead, than Wings▪ of Temperance; and Composedness; than Ardour, and Agitation. But above all things, 'tis in my Opinion, egregiously to play the Fool, to put on the Gravity of a Man of Understanding amongst those that know nothing: and to speak in print, favellar in punta di forchetta: you must let yourself down to those with whom you converse; and sometimes affect Ignorance: lay aside constraint and subtlety, 'tis enough in common Conversation to preserve Decency and Order; as to the rest, flag as low as the Earth, if they desire it. The Learned oft stumble at this Stone; they will be always showing their utmost skill, and strew their Writings all over with the Flowers of their Eloquence: they have in these days so filled the Cabinets and Ears of the Ladies with it, that if they have lost the Substance, they at least retain the Words: so as in all discourse upon all sorts of Subjects, how mean and common soever, they speak and write after a new and learned way; 

Hoc sermone pavent, hoc iram, gaudia, curas, 
Juven. Sat. 6.   
Hoc cuncta effundunt animi secreta, quid ultra?  
Concumbunt doctè.   

In the same Language they express their fears,  
Their anger, and their joys, their griefs & cares,  
And all their Secrets do pour out; What more?  
In the same learned Phrase they play the Whore.   and quote Plato and Aquinas in things the first they meet could determine as well. The Learning that cannot penetrate their Souls, hangs still upon the Tongue. If those of Quality will be persuaded by me, they shall content themselves with setting out their proper and natural Treasures; they conceal and cover their Beauties under others that are none of theirs: 'tis a great folly to put out their own Light, to shine by a borrowed lustre: they are interred and buried under the Article Capsula totae. It is because they do not sufficiently know, that the World has nothing fairer than themselves, 'tis for them to honour the Arts, and to paint Painting. What need have they of any thing, but to live beloved and honoured? They have, and know but too much for this. They need do no more, but rouse and heat a little the Faculties they have of their own. When I see them tampering with Rhetoric, Law, Logic, and the like; so improper and unnecessary for their Business, I begin to suspect, that the men who inspire them with such things, do it that they may govern them upon that account. For what other excuse can I contrive? It is enough that they can without our Instruction govern the Graces of their Eyes to Gaiety, Severity, and Sweetness, and season a denial either with Anger, Suspense, or Favour, and that they need not another to interpret what we speak for their Service. With this Knowledge they command with the Switches, and rule both the Regent's and the Schools. But if nevertheless they think much to give place to us in any thing whatever, and will out of Curiosity have their share in Books; 
Poesy allowed to Women.  Poetry is a Diversion proper for theM, 'tis a wanton and subtle, a dissembling and prating Art, all Pleasure, and all show like themselves. They may also extract several Conveniences from History. 
What kind of Philosophy is proper for Women.  In Philosophy, out of the moral part of it, they may select such instructions as will teach them to judge of our Humours and Conditions, to defend themselves from our Treacheries, to regulate the ardour of their own Desires, to manage their Liberty, lengthen the Pleasure of Life, and mildly to bear the inconstancY of a Servant, the rudeness of a Husband, and the importunity of Years, Wrinkles, and the like. This is the utmost of what I would allow them in the Sciences. There are some particular Natures that are private and retired: my natural way is proper for Communication, and apt to lay me open; I am all without, and in sight, born for Society and Friendship: the solitude that I love myself, and recommend to others, is chiefly no other, than to withdraw my Thoughts and Affections into myself; to restrain and check, not my steps, but my own Cares and Desires; resigning all foreign Solitude, and mortally avoiding Servitude and Obligations; and not so much the crowd of men, as the crowd of Business. Local Solitude, to say the truth, does rather give me more room, and set me more at large; I more willingly throw myself upon Affairs of State, and the World, when I am alone. At the Lovure, and in the bustle of the Court, I fold myself within my own Skin. The crowd thrusts me upon myself. And I never entertain myself so wantonly, so licentiously, nor so particularly, as in places of respect, and ceremonious Prudence: Our Follies do not make men laugh, but our Wisdom. I am naturally no Enemy to a Court Life; I have therein past a good part of my own, and am of an Humour to be cheerful in great Companies, provided it may be by intervals, and at my own time: But this softness of Judgement whereof I speak, ties me by force to solitude, even in my own House, in the middle of a numerous Family, and a House sufficiently frequented; I see People enough, but rarely such with whom I delight to converse. And I there reserve both for myself and others an unusual Liberty: There is in my House no such thing as Ceremonies, ushering or waiting upon them down to the Coach, and such other troublesome Ceremonies as our courtesy joins, (O servile and importunate Custom!) every one there governs himself according to his own Method; let who will speak his Thoughts, I sit mute, meditating and shut up in my Closet, without any offence to my Guests. The men, whose Society and Familiarity I covet, are those they call sincere and ingenious men, and the Image of these make me disrelish the rest. It is, if rightly taken, the rarest of our Forms, and a Form that we chiefly owe to Nature. The end of this Commerce is simply Privacy, Frequentation and Conference, the exercise of Souls, without other Fruit. In our Discourse all Subjects are alike to me; let there be neither weight, nor depth, 'tis all one, there is yet Grace and Pertinency, all there is tincted with a mature and constant Judgement, and mixed with Bounty, Freedom, Gaiety and Friendship. 'Tis not only in talking of the Affairs of Kings and State, that our Wits discover their force and Beauty, but every whit as much in private Conferences. I understand my People even by their Silence and Smiles; and better discover them perhaps at Table, than in the Counsel. Hippomachus said very well, that he could know the good Wrestlers by only seeing them walk in the Street. If Learning will please to step into our talk, it shall not be rejected, not magisterial, imperious, and importunate, as it commonly is, but suffragan and docile in itself. We there only seek to divert ourselves, and to pass away our time; when we have a mind to be instructed and preached to, we will go seek it in its Throne. Let it debase itself to us for once, if it so please; for useful and profitable as it is, I presuppose that even in the greatest need, we may do well enough without it, and do our Business without its Assistance. A well descended Soul, and practised in the Conversation of men, will of herself, render herself agreeable to all. Art is nothing but the counterpart and register of what such Souls produce. The Conversation also of beautiful and well bred Women, is also for me a most sweet commerce: 
Cicer●.  nam nos quoque Oculos eruditos habemus. If the Soul has not therein so much to enjoy, as in the first, the bodily Senses, which also participate more of this, bring it to a proportion near to, though, in my opinion, not equal to the other. But 'tis a Commerce wherein a man must stand a little upon his Guard, especially those of a vigorous Constitution, as I am. The burnt Child dreads the fire. I there scalded myself in my Youth, and suffered all the Torments that Poets say are to befall all who precipitate themselves into Love without Order and Judgement. It is true, that whipping has made me wiser since. 


Ovid. Trist. l. 1. El. 1.  Quicumque Argolica de class Capharea fugit,  
Semper ab Euboices vela retorquet aquis.   

O'th' Grecian Fleet, who would Capharius flee,  
Must always steer from the Euboick Sea.   'Tis folly to fix all a man's Thoughts upon it, and madness to engage in it with a furious and indiscreet Affection; but on the other side, to engage there without Love and without Inclination, like Comedians, to play a common part, without putting any thing to it of his own but Words, is indeed to provide for his safety; but withal, after as scandalous a manner, as he who should abandon his Honour, Profit, or Pleasure, for fear of danger; for it is most certain, that from such a Practice, they who set it on foot can expect no Fruit that can please or satisfy a noble Soul. A man must of necessity have in good earnest desired that which he in good earnest expects to have a pleasure in enjoying; I say, though Fortune should unjustly favour their Dissimulation, which oft falls out, because there is none of the Sex, let her be as ugly as the Devil, who does not think herself well worthy to be beloved, and that does not prefer herself before other Women, either for her Youth, the colour of her Hair, or her graceful Motion, (for generally there are no more foul than fair;) and the Brachman Virgins, who have no other Beauty to recommend them, the People being assembled by the common Crier to that effect, come out into the Market place to expose their matrimonial Parts to public view, to try if those at lest were not of temptation sufficient to get them Husbands. Consequently, there is not one who does not easily suffer herself to be overcome by the first Vow that is made to serve her. Now from this ordinary treachery of men, that must fall out which we already experimentally see, either that they rally together, and separate themselves by themselves to evade us, or else form their Discipline by the Example we give them, play their Parts of the Farce as we do ours, and give themselves up to the sport, without Passion, Care, or Love: Neque affectui suo aut alieno obnoxiae: believing, according to the persuasion of Lysias in Plato, that they may with more Utility and Convenience surrender themselves up to us the less we love them. Where it will fall out, as in Comedies, that the People will have as much Pleasure or more than the Comedians. For my part, I no more acknowledge a Venus without a Cupid, than a Mother without Issue: They are things that mutually lend, and own their Essence to one another; so this Cheat rebounds back upon him who is guilty of it, it does not cost him much indeed, but he also gets little or nothing by it. They who have made Venus a Goddess, have taken notice that her principal Beauty was incorporeal and spiritual. But the Venus which these People hunt after, is not so much as humane, nor indeed brutal; the very Beasts will not accept it so gross and so earthly. We see that Imagination and Desire oft heats and incites them before the Body does; we see in both the one Sex and the other, they have in the herd choice and particular election in their Affections, and that they have amongst themselves a long Commerce of old good Will. Even those to whom old Age denies the practice of their desire, do yet tremble, neigh, and twitter for Love. We see them before the Act full of hope and ardour, and when the Body has played its Game, yet please themselves with the sweet remembrance of the Pleasure past; some that swell with Pride after they have performed, and others, who tired and sated, do yet by Vociferation express a triumphing Joy. Who has nothing to do but only to discharge his Body of a natural necessity, need not to trouble others with so curious Preparations. It is not Meat for a gross and boisterous Appetite. As one who does not desire that men should think me better than I am, I will here freely discover the Errors of my Youth, not only for the danger of impairing my Health, (and yet I could not be so careful, but that I had two light Mischances) but moreover upon the account of Contempt, I have seldom given myself up to common and mercenary Embraces. I would heighten the Pleasure by the Difficulty, by Desire, and a certain kind of Glory; and was clearly of Tiberius' mind, 
Modest and noble Amours of Tiberius.  who in his Amours was as much taken with Modesty and Birth as any other Quality; and of the Courtesan Flora's Humour, 
Those of Flora.  who never prostituted herself to less than a Dictator, a Consul, or a Censor, and solaced herself in the dignity of her Lovers; doubtless Pearl and Tissue, Titles and Attendance, add something to it. As to the rest, I had a great esteem for Wit, provided the Person was without exception; for, to confess the truth, if the one or the other of these two Perfections must of necessity be wanting, I should rather have quitted that of the Understanding, that has its Use in better things; but in the subject of Love, a Subject principally relating to the Senses of Seeing and Touching, something may be done without the Graces of the Mind, without the Graces of the Body nothing. Beauty is the true prerogative of Women, and so peculiarly their own, that ours, though naturally requiring another sort of Feature, is never in its lustre but when puerile and beardless, confused and mixed with theirs. 'Tis said, that such as are preferred to the Grand Signior upon the account of Beauty, which are an infinite number, are at the farthest dismissed at two and twenty years of Age. Reason, Prudence, and Offices of Friendship are better found amongst men, and therefore it is, that they govern the Affairs of the World. These two Commerces are fortuitous, and depending upon others; the one is troublesome by its rarity, the other whither with Age, so that they could never have been sufficient for the Business of my Life. That of Books, which is the third, is much more certain, and much more our own. It yields all other Advantages to the other two; but has the Constancy and Facility of its Service for its own share: It goes side by side with me in my whole Course, and every where is assisting to me: it comforts me in my Age and Solitude; it eases me of a troublesome weight of idleness, and delivers me at all hours from Company that I dislike: and it blunts the point of Griefs, if they are not extreme, and have not got an entire Possession of my Soul. To divert myself from a troublesome Fancy, 'tis but to run to my Books, they presently fix me to them, and drive the other out of my Thoughts; and do not mutiny to see that I have only recourse to them for want of other more real, natural, and lively Conveniencies; they always receive me with the same Kindness. He may well go a foot, they say, who leads his Horse in his Hand. And our James, King of Naples and Sicily, who, handsome, young, and healthful, caused himself to be carried up and down on a Barrow, extended upon a pitiful mattress in a poor Robe of grey Cloth, and a Cap of the same; but attended withal with a Royal train of Litters, led-Horses of all sorts, Gentlemen and Officers, did yet herein represent a tender and unsteady austerity. The sick man is not to be lamented, who has his cure in his sleeve. In the experience and practice of this Sentence, which is a very true one, all the benefit I reap from Books consists; and yet I make as little use of it almost as those that know it not: I enjoy it as a Miser does his money, in knowing that I may enjoy it when I please: my mind is satisfied with this right of possession. I never travel without Books, either in Peace or War; and yet sometimes I pass over several days, and sometimes months, without looking on them: I will read by and by, say I to myself, or to morrow, or when I please, and in the interim Time steals away without any inconvenience. For it is not to be imagined to what degree I please myself, and rest content in this consideration, that I have them by me, to divert myself with them when I am so disposed, and to call to mind what an ease and refreshment they are to my Life. 'Tis the best Viaticum I have yet found out for this humane journey, and very much lament those men of understanding who are unprovided of them. And yet I the rather accept of any other sort of diversion, how light soever, because this can never fail me. When at home, I a little more frequent my Library, from whence I at once survey all the whole concerns of my Family: 'Tis situated at the entrance into my House, and I thence under me see my Garden, Court, and base-Court, and into all the parts of the building. There I turn over now one Book, and then another, of various Subjects, without method or design: one while I meditate, another I record, and dictate as I walk to and fro, such whimsies as these I present you here. 'Tis in the third story of a Tower, of which the Ground-room is my Chapel, the second story an Apartment with a withdrawing Room and Closet, where I often lie to be more retired. Above it is a great Wardrobe, which formerly was the most useless part of the House. I there pass away both the most of the days of my Life, and most of the hours of those days. In the Night I am never there. There is within it a Cabinet handsome and neat enough, with a Fire place very commodiously contrived, and Light very finely fitted. And was I not more afraid of the Trouble than the Expense, the Trouble that frights me from all Business, I could very easily adjoin on either side, and on the same Floor, a Gallery of an hundred paces long, and twelve broad, having found Walls already raised for some other design, to the requisite height. Every place of retirement requires a walk. My Thoughts sleep if I sit still; my Fancy does not go by itself, as when my Legs move it: and all those who study without a Book are in the same Condition. The Figure of my Study is round, and has no more flat Wall than what is taken up by my Table and my Chair; so that the remaining parts of the Circle present me a view of all my Books at once, set up upon five degrees of Shelves round about me. It has three noble and free Prospects, and is sixteen paces diameter. I am not so continually there in Winter; for my House is built upon an Eminence, as its Name imports, and no part of it is so much exposed to the Wind and Wether as that, which pleases me the better: for being of a painful access, and a little remote, as well upon the account of Exercise, as being also there more retired from the Crowd. 'Tis there that I am in my Kingdom, as we say, and there I endeavour to make myself an absolute Monarch, and to sequester this one corner from all Society both Conjugal, Filial, and Civil. Elsewhere I have but verbal Authority only, and of a confused Essence. That man in my Opinion is very miserable, who has not at home where to be by himself, where to entertain himself alone, or to conceal himself from others. Ambition sufficiently plagues her Proselytes, by keeping themselves always in show, like the Statue of a public Place. 
Seneca de Consol. ad Polib. c. 26.  Magna Servitus est magna Fortuna. A great Fortune is a great Slavery. They have not so much as a Retirement for the Necessities of Nature. I have thought nothing so severe in the Austerity of Life that our Churchmen affect, as what I have observed in some of their Societies; namely, to have a perpetual Society of place by Rule, and numerous Assistants amongst them in every Action whatever; And think it much more supportable to be always alone, than never to be so. If any one shall tell me, that it is to undervalue the Muses, to make use of them only for sport, and to pass away the time; I shall tell him, that he does not know the value of Sport and Pleasure so well as I; if I forbear to add further, that all other end is ridiculous. I live from Hand to Mouth, and, with Reverence be it spoken, I only live for myself; to that all my Designs do tend, and in that terminate. I studied when young for Ostentation; since, to make myself a little wiser; and now for my Diversion, but never for any Profit. A vain and prodigal Humour I had after this sort of Furniture, not only for the supplying my own need and defects, but moreover for Ornament and outward show, I have since quite reaved myself of. Books have many charming Qualities to such as know how to choose them. But every good has its ill; 'tis a Pleasure that is not pure and clean, no more than others: it has its Inconveniencies, and great ones too. The Mind indeed is exercised by it, but the Body, the care of which I must withal never neglect, remains in the mean time without Action, grows heavy and stupid. I know no excess more prejudicial to me, nor more to be avoided in this my declining Age. These are my three beloved, and particular Occupations; I speak not of those I owe to the World by Civil Obligation.   

CHAP. IU. Of Diversion.  
I Was once employed to consolate a Lady truly afflicted; 
What women's mournings commonly are.  most of their Mournings are put on, and for outward Ceremony.  

Vberibus semper Lacrymis, semperque paratis,  
In station sua, 
Juven. Sat. 6.  atque expectantibus illam  
Quo jubeat manare modo.   

They always have a dam for present use,  
Ready, and waiting when they draw the Sluice,  
On least pretences of Joys, Griefs, or Fears,  
To sally out in false dissembling Tears.   
A man goes the wrong way to work, when he opposes this Passion; for Opposition does but irritate and make them more obstinate in Sorrow, and the evil is exasperated by being contended with. We see in common Discourse, that what I have negligently let fall from me, if a man takes hold of it, so as to controvert what I have said, I justify it with the best Arguments I have; and much more a thing wherein I had a real Interest. And besides, in so doing, you enter rudely upon your Operation; whereas the first addresses of a Physician to his Patient should be gracious, gay, and pleasing. Never did any ill-looked, morose Physician do any thing to purpose. On the contrary, 
How Consolation ought to be practised.  than a Man should at the first approaches favour their Grief, and express some Approbation of their Sorrow: By this intelligence you obtain Credit to proceed further, and after a facile and insensible manner fall into Discourses more solid and proper for their Cure. ay, whose aim it was principally to gull the Assistants who had their Eyes fixed upon me, designed only to palliate the Disease. And indeed I have found by Experience, that I have an unluckey hand in persuading. My Arguments are either too sharp, or too flat, and rather press too roughly, or not home enough. After I had some time applied myself to her Grief, I did not attempt to cure her by strong and lively Reasons, either because I wanted them, or because I thought to do my business better another way; neither did I insist upon a choice of any of those methods of Consolation which Philosophy prescribes; That what we complain of is no evil, according to Cleanthes; that it is a light evil, according to the Peripatetics; that to bemoan one's self is an action neither commendable nor just, according to Chrysippus; Nor this of Epicurus, more suitable to my way, of shifting the thoughts from afflicting things to those that are pleasing; nor making a bundle of all these together, to make use of upon occasion, according to Cicero; but gently bending my Discourse, and by little and little digressing, sometimes to subjects nearer, and sometimes more remote from the purpose; she was more intent to what I said, I insensibly deprived her of her Sorrow, and kept her calm and in good Humour whilst I continued there. I herein made use of diversion. They who succeeded me in the same service, did not for all that find any amendment in her, for I had not gone to the root. I peradventure may elsewhere have glanced upon some sort of public diversions. And the practice of Military ones, which Pericles made use of in the Peloponnesian War, with a thousand others in other places to withdraw the adverse Forces from their own Countries, is too frequent in History. It was an ingenious evasion whereby the Sieur d'Himbercourt saved both himself and others in the City of Liege, into which the Duke of Burgundy, who kept it besieged had made him enter, to execute the Articles of their promised Surrender. These People being assembled by Night to consider of it, begun to mutiny against the past Agreement, and to that degree, that several of them resolved to fall upon the Commissioners who had laboured in it, and whom they had in their power. He feeling the gusts of this first storm of these People, who were coming to rush into his Lodgings, suddenly sent out to them two of the Inhabitants of the City (of which he had some with him) with new and milder terms, to be proposed in their Counsel, which he had suddenly contrived at need. These two diverted the first tempest, carrying back the enraged Rabble to the Town-Hall, to hear and consider of what they had to say. The deliberation was short; a second storm arose as full of animosity as the other; whereupon he dispatched four new Mediators of the same quality to meet them, protesting that they had now better Conditions to present them with, and such as would give them absolute satisfaction; by which means the Tumult was once more appeased, and the People again turned back to the Conclave. In fine, by thus ordering these amusements one after another, diverting their Fury, and dissipating it in frivolous Consultations, he laid it at last asleep till the day appeared, which was his principal end. This other story that follows is also of the same predicament. Atalanta, a Virgin of excelling Beauty, and of wonderful disposition of Body, to disengage herself from the crowd of a thousand Suitors who sought her in marriage, made this Proposition, that she would accept of him for her Husband who should equal her in Running, upon condition that they who failed should lose their Lives; there were enough who thought the Prize very well worth the hazard, and who suffered the penalty of the bloody Contract. Hippomenes, being to make trial after the rest, makes his address to the Goddess of Love, imploring her assistance, who granting his request, gave him three golden Apples, and instructed him how to use them. The ground they run upon being an even Plane, as Hippomenes perceived his Mistress to press hard up to him, he, as it were by chance, let fall one of these Apples; the Maid, taken with the beauty of it, failed not to step out of her way to take it up: 

Obstupuit virgo, 
Ovid. Metam. lib. 10.  nitidique cupidine pomi  
Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit.   

The nimble Virgin, dazzeled to behold  
The glittering Apple tumbling o'er the mould,  
Stopped her career to seize the rolling Gold.   He did the same, when he saw his time, by the second and the third, till by so diverting her, and making her lose so much ground, he won the Course. When Physicians cannot stop a Catarrh, they divert, and turn it into some other less dangerous part. And I find also that is the most ordinary practice for the diseases of the Mind. 
Cicero, Thus. l. 5.  Abducendus etiam nonnunquam animus est, ad alia studia, sollicitudines, curas, negotia: Loci denique mutatione, tanquam aegroti non convalescentes, saepe curandus est. The mind is sometimes to be diverted to other Studies, Thoughts, Cares, and Business: and lastly, by change of place, as sick Persons that do not recover are ordered change of Air. 'Tis to little effect directly to justle a man's Infirmities, we neither make him sustain, nor repel the attack; we only make him decline and evade it. This other lesson is too high and too difficult. 'Tis for men of the first Form of knowledge purely to insist upon the thing, to consider and judge of it. It appertains to one sole Socrates only, to entertain Death with an indifferent Countenance, to grow acquainted with it, and to sport with it; he seeks no consolation out of the thing itself; dying appears to him a natural and indifferent accident, 'tis there that he fixes his sight and resolution, without looking elsewhere. The Disciples of Hegesias, that pine themselves to death, animated thereunto by his fine Lectures, which were so frequent, that King Ptolemy ordered he should be forbidden to entertain his followers with such homicide Doctrines: those People do not consider death itself, neither do they judge of it; it is not there that they fix their Thoughts, they run towards, and aim at a new Being. The poor wretches that we see brought upon the Scaffold, full of ardent devotion, and therein, as much as in them lies, employing all their Senses, their Ears in hearing the instructions are given them, their Eyes and Hands lifted up towards Heaven, their Voices in loud Prayers, with a vehement and continual emotion, are doubtless things very commendable and proper for such a necessity. We ought to commend them for their Devotion, but not properly for their constancy. They eat the encounter, they divert their thoughts from the consideration of death, as Children are amused with some Toy or other, when the Chirurgeon is going to give them a prick with his Lancet. I have seen some, who casting sometimes their eyes upon the dreadful Instruments of death round about, have fainted, and furiously turned their thoughts another way. Such as are to pass a formidable Precipice, are advised either to shut their eyes or to look another way. Subrius Flavius, being by Nero's command to be put to death, and by the hand of Niger, both of them great Captains; when they led him to the place appointed for his Execution, seeing the hole that Niger had caused to be hollowed to put him into ill-favouredly contrived: Neither is this, said he, turning to the Soldiers who guarded him, according to Military Discipline. And to Niger, who exhorted him to keep his head firm; do but thou strike as firmly, said he. And he very well foresaw what would follow, when he said so; for Niger's arm so trembled, that he had several blows at his head before he could cut it off. This man seems to have had his thoughts rightly fixed upon the subject: he that dies in a Battle, with his Sword in his hand, does not then think of death, he feels, nor considers it not; the ardour of the Fight diverts his thoughts another way. An honest Man of my acquaintance, falling as he was fight a Duel at single Rapier, and feeling himself nailed to the earth by nine or ten thrusts of his Enemy, every one present called to him to think of his Conscience; but he has since told me, that though he very well heard what they said, it nothing moved him, and that he never thought of any thing but how to disengage and revenge himself. He afterwards killed his Man in that very Duel. He who brought L. Syllanus the sentence of Death, did him a very great kindness, in that having received his answer, that he was well prepared to die, but not by base hands, he run upon him with his Soldiers to force him; and as he, naked as he was, obstinately defended himself with his fists and feet, he made him lose his Life in the dispute; by that means dissipating and diverting in a sudden and furious Rage the painful apprehension of the lingering Death to which he was designed. We always think of something else; either the hope of a better Life comforts and supports us, or the hope of our children's Valour, or the future glory of our Name, or the leaving behind the evils of this Life, or the Vengeance that threatens those who are the causers of our death, administers Consolation to us.  


Aeneid. l. 4.  Spero equidem mediis, si quid pia numina possunt,  
Supplicia hausurum scopulis & nomine Dido  
Saepe vocaturum.  
Audiam, & haec manes veniet mihi fama subimos.   


Mr. Ogilby.  Sure if the Gods have any power at all,  
Split on a Rock, thou shalt on Dido call.  
— thy Fortunes I shall know  
By Fame conveyed me to the shades below.   
Xenophon was sacrificing with a Crown upon his Head, when one came to bring him News of the Death of his Son Gryllus, 
The valiant Death of Gryllus.  slain in the Battle of Mantinaea. At the first surprise of the News, he threw his Crown to the Ground; but understanding by the sequel of the Narrative, the manner of a most brave and valiant Death, he took it up, and replaced it upon his Head. Epicurus himself, at his Death, consolates himself upon the Utility and Eternity of his Writings. Omnes clari, 
Cicero. Thus. l. 3.  & nobilitati Labores, fiunt tolerabiles. All Labours that are illustrious▪ and renowned, are supportable. And the same Wound, the same Fatigue, is not, says Xenophon, so intolerable to a General of an Army, as to a common Soldier. 
The cheerful Death of Epaminondas.  Epaminondas died much more cheerful, having been informed that the Victory remained to him. Haec sunt solatia, 
Cicero. Thus. l. 2.  haec fomenta summorum Dolorum. These are lenitives, and fomentations to the greatest Pains. And such other Circumstances amuse, divert, and turn our thoughts from the consideration of the thing in itself. Even the Arguments of Philosophy are always diverting, and putting by the Matter, so as scarce to rub upon the Sore. The greatest man of the first Philosophical School, and Superintendent over all the rest, the great Zeno, against Death forms this Syllogism: No Evil is honourable; but Death is honourable: Therefore Death is no Evil. Against Drunkenness this; No one commits his Secrets to a Drunkard; but every one commits his Secrets to a Wise Man: therefore a wise man is no Drunkard. Is this to hit the white? I love to see, that these great and leading Souls cannot rid themselves of our Company. As perfect men as they would be, they are yet but simple men. Revenge is a sweet Passion, of great and natural impression; I discern it well enough, though I have no manner of Experience of it. From which, not long ago, to divert a young Prince; I did not tell him that he must, to him who had struck him upon the one Cheek, turn the other, upon the account of Charity; nor go about to represent to him the tragical Events that Poetry attributes to this Passion; I did not touch upon that string; but made it my Business to make him relish the Beauty of a contrary Image: and by representing to him what Honour, Esteem, and good Will he would acquire by Clemency and good Nature, diverted him to Ambition. Thus a man is to deal in such Cases. If your Passion of Love be too violent, disperse it, say they, and they say true; for I have oft tried it with Advantage: break it into several Desires, of which let one be regent if you will over the rest; but, lest it should tyrannize and domineer over you, weaken and protract, in dividing and diverting it; 


Persius. Sat. 6.  Cum morosa vago singultiet inguine venae.   


Lucret. l. 4.  Conjicito humorem collectum in Corpora quaeque.   and look to't in time, lest it proves too troublesome to deal with, when it has once seized you.  

Si non prima novis conturbes vulvera plagis,  

Lucret. l. 4.  Volgivagaque vagus venere ante recentia cures.   

Unless you fancy every one you view, 
Mr. Creech.   
Revel in Love, and cure old Wounds by new.   
I was once wounded with a vehement Displeasure, and withal, more just than vehement; I might peradventure have lost myself in it, if I had merely trusted to my own Strength. Having need of a powerful Diversion to disengage me, by amorous Art and Study, wherein I was assisted by my Youth, I found one out: Love relieved and rescued me from the evil wherein Friendship had engaged me. 'Tis in every thing else the same; a violent Imagination hath seized me, I find it a nearer way to change, than to subdue it: I depute, if not one contrary, yet another at least in its place. Variation does always relieve, dissolve, and dissipate; if I am not able to contend with it, I escape from it; and in avoiding it slip out of the way, and make my doubles: shifting of Place, Business, and Company, I secure myself in the crowd of other Thoughts and Fancies, where it loses my trace, and I escape. After the same manner does Nature proceed, by the benefit of Inconstancy; 
Time the Physician of our Passions.  for the time she has given us for the sovereign Physician of our Passions, does chiefly work by that, that supplying our Imaginations with other, and new Affairs, it unnerves, and dissolves the first apprehension, how strong soever. A wise man sees his Friend little less dying at the end of five and twenty years, than the first year, and according to Epicurus, no less at all; for he did not attribute any alleviation of Afflictions, neither to the foresight of the man, or the Antiquity of the Evils themselves. But so many other thoughts traverse the first, that it languishes and tires at last. Alcibiades, to divert the Inclination of common Rumours, cut off the Ears and Tail of his beautiful Dog, and turned him out into the public place, to the end, that giving the People this occasion to prate, they might let his other Actions alone. I have also seen, for this same end of diverting the Opinions and Conjectures of the People, and to stop their Mouths, some Women conceal their real Affections by those that were only counterfeit, and put on to blind men's Eyes; but some of them withal, who in counterfeiting have suffered themselves to be caught indeed, and who have quitted the true and original Affection, for the feigned: and by them have found, that they who find their Affections well placed are Fools to consent to this disguise. The favourable and public reception being only reserved for this pretended Servant, a man may conclude him a Fellow of very little address, and less Wit, if he does not in the end put himself into your place, and you into his; this is properly to cut out, and make up a Shoe for another to draw on. A little thing will turn and divert us; because a little thing holds us. We do not much consider Subjects in gross, and single in themselves; but they are little and superficial Circumstances that wound us, and the outward useless rinds that pill off those Subjects.  

Folliculos ut nunc teretes aestate cicadae 
Lucret. l. 5.   
Linquunt.—   

Such as the terous husks, or shells we find  
In Summer, Grasshoppers do leave behind.   
Even Plutarch himself laments his Daughter for the little apish tricks of her Infancy. The remembrance of a Farewell, of the particular grace of an Action, of a last recommendation afflicts us. The sight of Caesar's Robe troubled all Rome, which was more than his death had done. Even the sound of Names ringing in our ears, as, my poor Master, my faithful Friend; Alas, my dear Father, or, my sweet Daughter, afflict us. When these Repetitions torment me, and that I examine it a little nearer, I find 'tis no other but a Grammatical complaint; I am only wounded with the word and tone, as the Exclamations of Preachers do very oft work more upon their Auditory than their Reasons, and as the pitiful eyes of a Beast killed for Service, without my weighing, or penetrating in the interim into the true and real essence of my Subject.  

His se stimulis dolor ipse lacessit. 
Lucan. l. 2.    

With these incitements grief itself provokes.   
These are the foundations of our mourning. The obstinacy of my Stone to all remedies, especially those in my Bladder, has sometimes thrown me into so long suppressions of Urine for three or four days together, and so near death, that it had been folly to have hoped to evade it, and it was much rather to have been desired, considering the miseries I endure in those: cruel Fits. 
Criminals yards tied up to stop their Urine.  Oh that the good Emperor, who caused Criminals to be tied that they might die for want of pissing, was a great Master in the▪ Hangman's Science! Finding myself in this condition, I considered by how many light causes and objects Imagination nourished in me the regret of Life; and of what Atoms the weight and difficulty of this dislodging was composed in my Soul, and to how many idle and frivolous thoughts we give way in so great an Affair. A Dog, a Horse, a Book, a Glass, and what not? were considered in my loss. To others, their ambitious hopes, their money, their knowledge, not less foolish Considerations in my opinion than mine. I look upon Death carelessly, when I look upon it universally as the end of Life. I insult over it in gross; but in retail it domineers over me. The Tears of a Footman, the disposing of my clothes, the touch of a friendly hand, which is a common Consolation, discourages and entenerates me. So do the Complaints in Tragedies infect our Souls with Grief, and the Regrets of Dido and Ariadne, impassionate even those who believe them not in Virgil and Catullus. 'Tis a simptom of an obstinate and obdurate Nature, to be sensible of no emotion; as 'tis reported for a Miracle of Polemon; who not so much as altered his Countenance at the biting of a mad-Dog, who tore away the Calf of his Leg. And no Wisdom proceeds so far, as to conceive so lively and entire a cause of Sorrow by Judgement, that it does not suffer an increase by presence, where the Eyes and Ears have their share; parts that are not to be moved but by vain accidents. Is it reason, that even the Arts themselves should make an advantage of our natural brutality and weakness? An Orator, says Rhetoric, in the farce of his pleading, shall be moved with the sound of his own Voice and feigned Emotions, and suffer himself to be imposed upon by the passion he represents; he will imprint in himself a true and real Grief, by means of the part he plays, to transmit it to the Audience, who are yet less concerned than he: as they do, who are hired at Funerals to assist in the ceremony of Sorrow, who fell their Tears and Mourning by weight and measure. For although they act in a borrowed Form, nevertheless by habituating themselves, and settling their Countenances to the occasion, 'tis most certain, they oft are really affected with a true and real Sorrow. I was one, amongst several other of his Friends, who conveyed the Body of Monsieur de Grammont to Soissons, from the siege of la Fere, where he was slain; I observed that in all places we passed through, we met with sorrowful Countenances occasioned by the mere solemn pomp of our Convoy, for the Name of the Defunct was not there so much as known. Quintilian reports, to have seen Comedians so deeply engaged in a Mourning part, that they could not give over weeping when they came home, and who, having taken upon them to stir up Passion in another, have themselves espoused it to that degree, as to find themselves infected with it, not only to Tears, but moreover with Paleness, and the comportment of men really overwhelmed with Grief. In a Country near our Mountains, the Women play Priest Martin, that is to say, both the Priest and the Clerk, for as they augment the regret of the deceased Husband, by the remembrance of the good and agreeable Qualities he was master of; they also at the same time make a register of, and publish his imperfections; as if of themselves to enter into some compensation, and so divert themselves from compassion to disdain; and yet with much better grace, than we, who when we lose an old Acquaintance, strive to give him new and false praises, and to make him quite another thing when we have lost sight of him, than he appeared to us when we did see him: as if regret was an instructive thing, or that tears, by washing our Understandings, cleared them. For my part, I henceforth renounce all favourable testimonies men would give of me, not because I shall not be worthy of them, but because I shall be dead. Whoever shall ask a man, what Interest have you in this Siege? the interest of Example, he will say, and of the common obedience to my Prince: I pretend to no profit by it; and for glory, I know how small a part can reflect upon such a private man as I: I have here neither passion nor quarrel. And yet you shall see him the next day quite another man, chase, and red with fury, ranged in Battle for the Assault; 'tis the glittering of so much Steel, the fire and noise of our Canon and Drums, that have infused this new Rancour and Fury into his Veins. A frivolous Cause you will say, how a Cause? There needs none to agitate the mind; a mere whimsy without body and without subject will rule and sway it. Let me think of building Castles in Spain, my imagination suggests to me Conveniences and Pleasures with which my Soul is really delighted and pleased. How oft do we torment our Mind with Anger or Sorrow by such shadows, and engage ourselves in fantastic Passions that alter both the Soul and Body? What astonished, fleering, and confused Grimaces does this raving put our Faces into! What sallies and agitation both of Members and Voices does it inspire us with? Does it not seem that this individual man has false Visions from the crowd of others with whom he has to do, or, that he is possessed with some internal Daemon that persecutes him? Inquire of yourself, where is the object of this Mutation? Is there any thing but us in Nature, but subsisting nullity, over which it has power? Cambyses, for having dreamt that his Brother should be one day King of Persia, put him to death: a beloved Brother, and one in whom he had always confided. Aristodemus, King of the Messenians, killed himself out of a fancy of ill Omen, from I know not what howling of his Dogs; and King Midas did as much upon the account of some foolish dream he had dreamed. 'Tis to prise Life at its just value, to abandon it for a dream; and yet here the Soul triumphs over the miseries and weakness of the Body, and truly in that it is exposed to all offences and alterations, it has reason to speak after this manner; 


Prop. lib. 3. Eleg. 3.  O prima infoelix fingenti Terra Prometheo!  
Ille parum cauti pectori egit opus.  
Corpora disponens, mentem non vidit in arte,  
Recta Animi primum debuit esse via.   

Oh, 'twas for man a most unhappy Day,  
When rash Prometheus formed him out of Clay!  
In his attempt th'ambitious Architect  
Did indiscreetly the main thing neglect.  
In framing Bodies, he had not the Art  
To form the Mind, which is the chiefest part.     

CHAP. V. Upon some Verses of Virgil.  
BY how much profitable Thoughts are more full and solid, by so much are they also more cumbersome and heavy. Vice, Death, Poverty, Diseases, are grave and grievous Subjects. A man must have his Soul instructed in the means to sustain and to contend with Evils, and in the rules of living and believing well; and often rouse it up, and exercise it in this noble study. But in an ordinary Soul, it must be by intervals, and with Moderation; it will otherwise grow besotted if continually intent upon it. I found it necessary when I was young, to put myself in mind, and to solicit myself to keep me to my Duty; Gaiety and Health do not, they say, so well agree with those grave and serious Meditations: I am at present in another Condition. The Indispositions of Age do but too much put me in mind, and preach to me. From the excess of spriteliness, I am fallen into that of Severity; which is much more troublesome. And for that reason, I now suffer myself on purpose, a little to run into disorder; and sometimes busy my Mind in wanton and youthful Thoughts, wherewith it diverts itself. I am of late but too reserved, too heavy, and too ripe; my Age does every day read to me new Lectures of Coldness and Temperance. This Body of mine avoids Disorder, and dreads it; 'tis now my Body's turn to guide my Mind towards Reformation; it governs in turn, and more rudely and imperiously than the other; it lets me not an hour alone, sleeping nor waking: but is always preaching to me, Death, Patience, and Repentance. I now defend myself from Temperance, as I have formerly done from Pleasure; it draws me too much back, and even to Stupidity. Now I will be Master of myself to all intents and purposes. Wisdom has its excess, and has no less need of Moderation than Folly. Therefore, lest I should wither, dry up, and overcharge myself with Prudence, in the intervals and truces my Infirmities allow me, 


Ovid. Trist. l. 4. El. 1.  Mens intenta suis ne siet usque malis.   

That my Mind mayn't eternally be bend  
And fixed upon Subjects discontent.   I gently decline it, and turn away my Eyes from the stormy and frowning Sky I have before me; which, thanks be to God, I consider without Fear, but not without Meditation and Debate. And amuse myself in the remembrance of my better years: 


Petron. Arbiter. — Animus quod perdidit, optat  
Atque in praeterita se totus imagine versat.   

The Mind what it has lost, wishes to have,  
And on things passed eternally does rave.   Let Infancy look forward, and Age backward; Is not this the signification of Janus his double Face? Let Years hale me along if they will, but it shall be backward: As long as my Eyes can discern the pleasant Season expired, I shall now and then turn them that way. Though it escape from my Blood and Veins, I shall not however root the Image of it out of my Memory.  

— hoc est, 
Mart. l. 10. Ep. 23.   
Vivere bis, Vita posse priore fui.   

'Tis to live twice to him who can obtain  
Of thought t'enjoy his former Life again.   
Plato ordains, that old men should be present at the Exercises, Dances, and Sports of young People, that they may rejoice in others, for the Activity and Beauty of Body, which is no more in themselves; and call to mind the Grace and Comeliness of that flourishing Age: And will, that in these Recreations, the Honour of the prize should be given to that young man who has most diverted the Company. I was formerly wont to mark cloudy and gloomy days, for extraordinary; those are now my ordinary ones, the extraordinary are the clear and bright, I am ready to leap out of my Skin for Joy, as for an unwonted favour, when nothing ails me. Let me tickle myself presently after, I cannot force a poor smile from this wretched Body of mine. I am only merry in conceit, by artifice to divert the melancholy of Age; but doubtless it requires another Remedy ●han the Efficacy of a Dream. A weak contest of Art against Nature. 'Tis great folly to lengthen and anticipate humane Inconveniencies, as every one does. I had rather be a less while old, than to be old before I am really so. I seize on even the least occasions of Pleasure I can meet; I know very well, by hear-say, several sorts of prudent Pleasures, that are effectually so, and glorious to boot: but Opinion has not power enough over me, to give me an Appetite to them. I covet not so much to have them magnanimous, magnific, and lofty; as I do to have them sweet, facile, and ready. A Natura discedimus, Populo nos damus, nullius rei bono auctori. We depart from Nature, and give ourselves to the People who understand nothing. My Philosophy is in Action, in natural and present Practice, very little in Fancy. What if I have a Mind to play at Cob-nut, or to whip a Top?  


Ennius.  Non ponebat enim Rumores ante Salutem.   

— He was too wise  
Idle Reports before his Health to prize.   
Pleasure is a Quality of very little Ambition, it thinks itself rich enough of itself, without any addition of Repute; and is best pleased where most obscure. A young man should be whipped, who pretends to a Palate in Wine and Sauces; there was nothing which at that Age I less valued or knew; now I begin to learn. I am very mu●h ashamed on't; but what should I do? I am more ashamed and vexed at the Occasions that put me upon't. 'Tis for us to dote and trifle away the time, and for Youngmen to stand upon their Reputation, and the Punctilios of Honour; they are going towards the World, and the World's Opinion, we are retiring from it. Sibi Arma, 
Cicero de Senec.  sibi Equos, sibi Hastas, sibi Clavam, sibi Pilam, sibi Nationes, & Cursus habent: nobis senibus, ex lusionibus multis, talos relinquant & tesseras. Let them reserve to themselves, Arms, Horses, Spears, Clubs, Tennis, Swimming, and Races; and of their numerous Sports and Exercises, leave to us old Men the diversion of Cards and Dice. The Laws themselves send us home to our Lodgings. I can do no less in favour of this wretched Condition, into which my Age has thrown me, than furnish it with Toys to play withal, as they do Children, and we also become such. Both Wisdom and Folly will have enough to do to support and relieve me by alternate Offices in this Calamity of Age.  

Misce stultitiam consiliis brevem. 
Hora. l. 4. Ode 12.    

Short follies mix with Counsels wise.   
I accordingly avoid the lightest Punctures, and those that formerly would not have rippled the Skin, do now pierce me through and through: My habit of Body is now so naturally declining to Evil: In fragili corpore odiosa omnis offensio est. To a decrepit Body all offence is hateful. 

Mensque pati durum sustinet aegra nihil. 
Ovid de Ponto.    

And a sick Mind nothing that's hard endures.   I have ever been tender in matters of offence, I am much more tender now, and open throughout. 


Ovid de Tris.  Et minime vires frangere quassa valent.   

And little force will break what's cracked before.   My Judgement restrains me from kicking against, and murmuring at the inconveniencies that Nature order me to endure, but it does not take away my Feeling: I, who have no other thing in my prospect but to live and be merry, would run from one end of the World to the other to seek out one good Year of pleasant and jocund Tranquillity. A melancholic and dull Tranquillity, is, I confess, enough for me, but it benumns, stupifies, and besots me, I am not contented with it: If there be any Person, any knot of good Company in Country or City, in France, or elsewhere, Resident, or in Motion, who can like my Humour, and whose Humours I can like, let them but whistle, and I will run to furnish them with Essays of Flesh and Bone. Seeing it is the privilege of the Mind to rescue itself from old Age▪ I advise mine to it with all the power I have, let it in the interim continue green, and flourish if it can like Mistletoe upon a dead Tree: But I fear 'tis a Traitor, it has contracted so strict a Fraternity with the Body, that it leaves me at every turn to follow that in its need. I wheedle and deal with it apart in vain; I try to much purpose to wean it from this Correspondence; to much effect quote to it Seneca and Catullus, and represent to it beautiful Ladies, and Royal Masques; if its Companion have the Stone, it seems to have it too. Even the Faculties that are most peculiarly and properly its own, cannot then perform their Functions, but manifestly appear stupefied and asleep; there is no spriteliness in its Productions, if there be not at the same time an equal Proportion in the Body too. Our Masters are too blame, that in searching out the causes of the extraordinary emotions of the Soul, besides attributing it to a Divine Ecstasy, Love, Martial Fierceness, Poesy, and Wine, they have not also attributed a part to Health. A boiling, vigorous, full, and lazy Health, such as formerly the verdure of Youth and security by fits supplied me withal; that Fire of Spriteliness and Gaiety darts into the Mind flashes that are lively and bright beyond our natural Light, and with the most working, if not the most desperate Enthusiasms: It is then no wonder if a contrary Estate stupefy and clog my Spirit, and produce a contrary Effect. 

Ad nullum consurgit opus cum corpore languet. 
Corn. Gallus.    

For when the Body languishing doth lie,  
I to no Office can myself apply.   And yet would have me obliged to it, for giving much less consent to this Stupidity than other men of my Age ordinarily do. Let us at least whilst we have Truce, drive away incommodities and difficulties from our Commerce. 


Hor. Ep. 13.  Dum licet obducta solvatur fronte senectus:   


Sir Thomas Hawkins.  Whilst Strength is fresh, and us it well becomes,  
Let's old Age banish which the Brow benumbs.   Tetrica sunt amaenanda jocularibus. 
Syd. Apollin. l. 1.  Sour things are to be sweetened with those that are pleasant. I love a gay and civil Wisdom, and fly from all sourness and austerity of Manners, all grumness of Faction being suspected to me. I am very much of Plato's Opinion, who says, That facile or difficile Humours are a great Prejudice to the good or ill Disposition of the Mind. Socrates had a constant Countenance, but withal, serene and smiling; not sourly constant, like the elder Crassus, that never any one saw Laugh. Virtue is a pleasant and gay Quality. I know very well that few will quarrel with the liberty of my Writings, who have not more to quarrel with in the Licence of their own Thoughts: I conform myself well enough to their Inclinations, but I offend their Eyes. 'Tis a pretty Humour to strain the Writings of Plato, to wrest his pretended Negotiation with Phaedo, Dion, Stella, and Archeanassa. Non pudeat dicere, quod non pudeat sentire. Let us not be ashamed to speak, what we are not ashamed to think. I hate a froward and pensive Spirit, that slips over all the Pleasures of Life, and seizes and feeds upon Misfortunes; like Flies, that cannot stick to a sleek and polished Body, but fix and repose themselves upon craggy and rough Places; and like Cupping-glasses, that only suck and attract the worst Blood. As to the rest, I have enjoined myself to dare to say all that I dare to do, and even thoughts that are not to be published displease me; the worst of my Actions and Qualities do not appear to me so foul, as I find it foul and base not to dare to own them. Every one is wary and discreet in Confession, but men ought to be so in Action. The boldness of doing ill is in some sort recompensed and restrained by the boldness of confessing it. Whoever will oblige himself to tell all, should oblige himself to do nothing that he must be forced to conceal. I wish that this excessive Licence of mine may draw men to freedom, above these timorous and mincing pretended virtues sprung from our imperfections; and that at the expense of my immoderation, I may reduce them to reason. A man must see and study his Vice to correct it; they who conceal it from others, commonly conceal it from themselves; and do not think they sin close enough, if they themselves see it. They withdraw and disguise them from their own Consciences. Quare vitia sua nemo confitetur? 
Seneca, Epist. 53.  Quia etiam nunc in illis est, somnium narrare vigilantis est. Why does no man confess his Vices? Because he is yet in them; 'tis for a waking man to tell his dream. The diseases of the Body explain themselves in increasing. We find that to be the Gout, which we called a Rheum or a Strain. The diseases of the Soul, the greater they are, keep themselves the more obscure; and the most sick are the least sensible. Therefore it is, that with an unrelenting hand, they must often in the day be taken to task, opened, and torn from the hollow of the heart. As in doing well, so in doing ill, the mere confession is sometimes satisfaction. Is there any deformity in doing amiss that can excuse us from confessing ourselves? It is so great a pain to me to dissemble, that I evade the trust of another's Secrets, wanting the heart to disavow my knowledge. I can conceal it, but deny it I cannot, without the greatest trouble and violence to myself imaginable. To be very secret, a man must be so by nature, not by obligation. 'Tis little worth in the service of a Prince to be secret, if a man be not a Liar to boot. If he who asked Thales the Milesian, whether he ought solemnly to deny that he had committed uncleanness, had applied himself to me, I should have told him, that he ought not to do it; 
Lying worse than the sin of uncleanness.  for I look upon Lying as a worse fault than the other. Thales advised him quite contrary, bidding him swear to secure the greater fault by the less: nevertheless this counsel was not so much an election as a multiplication of Vice. Upon which, let us say this by the buy, that we deal sincerely and well with a man of Conscience, when we propose to him some difficulty in counterpoise of the Vice; but when we shut him up betwixt two Vices, he is put to a hard choice: as Origen was, either to Idolatrize, or to suffer himself to be carnally abused by a great Ethiopian Slave was brought to him. He submitted to the first condition, and viciously, says one. And yet those Women of our times are not to be disliked, who, according to their error, protest, they had rather burden their Consciences with ten men than one Mass. If it be indiscretion so to publish their Errors, yet there is no great danger that it pass into Example and Custom. For Aristo said, that the winds men most feared, were those that laid them open; we must tuck up this ridiculous rag that hides our manners: they send their Consciences to the Stews, and keep a starched Countenance: Even Traitors and Assassins' espouse the Laws of Ceremony, and there fix their Duty; so that neither can Injustice complain of incivility, nor Malice of indiscretion. 'Tis pity but an ill man should be a Fool to boot, and that Decency should palliate his Vice. This rough-cast only appertains to a good and sound Wall, that deserves to be preserved and whited. In favour of the Hugonots, 
Auricular Confession.  who condemn our Auricular and private Confession, I confess myself in public, religiously and purely. St. Augustin, Origen, and Hypocrates, have published the Errors of their Opinions; and I moreover of my Manners. I am greedy of making myself known, and I care not to how many, provided it be truly; or to say better, I hunger for nothing, but I mortally hate to be mistaken by those who come to learn my Name. He that does all things for Honour and Glory, what can he think to gain by showing himself to the World in a Vizor; and by concealing his true Being from the People? Commend a crooked Fellow for his Stature, he has reason to take it for an affront: If you are a Coward, and that men commend you for your Valour, is it of you that they speak? They take you for another. I should like him as well, who glorifies himself in the Compliments and Congees are made him, as if he were Master of the Company, when he is one of the most inferior of the Train. Archelaus, King of Macedonia, walking along the Street, some body threw Water on his Head; which they who were with him, said he ought to punish: I, but said he, whoever it was, he did not throw the Water upon me, but upon him who he took me to be. Socrates being told that People spoke ill of him, Not at all, said he, there is nothing in me of what they say. For my part, if any one should commend me for a good Pilot, for being very modest, or very chaste, I should owe him no Thanks. And also, whoever ever should call me Traitor, Robber, or Drunkard, I should be as little concerned. They who do not rightly know themselves, may feed themselves with false Approbations; not I, who see myself, and who examine myself even to my very Bowels, and who very well know what is my due. I am content to be less commended, provided I am better known. I may be reputed a wise man in such a sort of wisdom as I take to be folly. I am vexed that my Essays only serve the Ladies for a common movable, a Book to lie in the Parlour Window; this Chapter shall prefer me to the Closet; I love to traffic with them a little in private; public conversation is without favour, and without favour. In farewells, we above ordinary heat our Affections towards the things we take leave of. I take my last leave of the pleasures of this World, these are our last embraces. But to return to my Subject: What he rendered the act of Generation, an act so natural, so necessary, and so fit for men, a thing not to be spoken of without blushing; and to be excluded from all serious and regular Discourses? We boldly pronounce kill, rob, betray, but the other we dare only to mutter betwixt the Teeth. Is it to say, that the less we say in Words, we may pay it so much the more with thinking? For it is certain, that the Words lest in use, most seldom writ, and best kept in, are the best, and most generally known. No Age, no Manners are ignorant of them, nay, more than the Word bread. They imprint themselves in every one, without being expressed, without Voice, and without Figure. And the Sex that most practices it, is bound to say least of it. 'Tis an act that we have placed in the Free-franchise of Silence, from whence to take it is a Crime. We are not to accuse and judge it; neither dare we reprehend it but by Periphrasis, and in Picture. A great favour to a Criminal, to be so execrable, that Justice thinks it unjust to touch and see him; free, and safe by the benefit of the severity of his Condemnation. Is it not here as in matter of Books, that sell better, and become more public for being suppressed? For my part, I will take Aristotle at his word, who says, 
Bashfulness an Ornament in young People.  that Bashfulness is an Ornament to Youth, but a Reproach to old Age. These Verses are preached in the ancient School, a School that I much more adhere to than the Modern; the Virtues of it appear to me to be greater, and the Vices less.  


Plutarch.  Ceux qui par trop fuyant Venus estrivent,  
Faillent autant que ceux qui trop la suivent.   

They err as much Venus too much forbear,  
As they who in her Rites too frequent are.   


Lucret.  Tu Dea, tu rerum naturam sola gubernas,  
Nec sine te quicquam dias in luminis oras  
Exoritur, neque fit laetum, nec amabile quicquam.   


Mr. Creech.  Thou, Nature's powerful Ruler, without whom  
Nothing that's lovely, nothing gay can come  
From darksome Chaos deep, and ugly Womb.   
I know not who could set Pallas and the Muses at variance with Venus, and make them cold towards Love; but I see no Deities so well met, or that are more indebted to one another. Who will deprive the Muses of amorous Imaginations, will rob them of the best Entertainment they have, and of the noblest matter of their Work: and who will make Love lose the Communication and Service of Poesi, will disarm him of his best Arms. By this means they charge the God of Familiarity and good Will, and the protecting Goddesses of Humanity and Justice, with the Vice of Ingratitude and Unthankfulness. I have not been so long cashiered from the State and Service of this God, that my Memory is not still perfect in his Force and Power. 

— agnosco veteris vestigia flammae. 
Aeneid. l. 4.    

Of my old flame some Footsteps yet remain.   There are yet some remains of heat and emotion after the Fever; 

Nec mihi deficiat calor hic, hyemantibus Annis.   

Of Youth though I am passed the burning rage,  
I have some heat yet in my Winter Age.   Withered and drooping as I am, I feel yet some remains of that past ardour. 

Qual l'atto Aegeo per che Aquilone o Noto 
Tasso, Gant. 12.   
Cessi, che tutto prima il vuolse, & scosse,  
Non S'accheta ci pero, ma'l son● e'l moto,  
Ritien de l'onde anco agitate è gross.   


Mr. Fairfax.  As Aegean Seas, when storms be calmed again,  
That roul'd their tumbling Waves with troublous blasts,  
Do yet of Tempests passed, some shows retain,  
And here and there their swelling billows cast.   But for what I understand of it, the force and power of this God are more lively and animating in the Picture of Poesy than in their own Essence. 


Juven. Sat. 6.  Et versus digitos habet.   

For there is charming harmony in Verse.   It has, I know not what kind of air more amorous than Love itself; Venus is not so beautiful, naked, alive, and panting, as she is here in Virgil. 


Virgil, Aeneid. lib. 8.  Dixerat, & niveis, hinc atque hinc Diva lacertis  
Cunctantem amplexu molli fovet: I'll repent  
Accepit solitam flammam, notusque medullas  
Intravit calor, & labefacta per ossa cucurrit.  
Non secus, atque olim tonitru cum rupta corusco  
Ignea rima micans percurrit limine nimbos.   & paulo post. 

— ea verba locutus,  
Optatos dedit amplexus, placidumque petivit  
Conjugis infusus gremio per membra soporem.   


Mr. Ogilby.  The Goddess here round in her snowy arms  
In soft embraces him consulting warms;  
Strait he takes fire, and through his marrow came  
Accustomed heat, which did his blood inflame:  
So from a fiery Breach erupted flies,  
Shining with flame, bright Thunder from the Skies.   and a little after. 
— This having said,  
After a sweet Embrace he takes his rest,  
Reposing on the beauteous Goddess Breast.  All that I find fault with in considering it, is, that he has represented her a little too Passionate for a married Venus. In this discreet kind of coupling, the Appetite is not usually so wanton, but more grave and dull. Love hates that People should hold of any but herself, and goes but faintly to work in Familiarities derived from any other title, as Marriage is. The Alliance and Dowry do therein sway by Reason as much or more than Grace and Beauty. Men do not marry for themselves, though they deny it, they marry as much or more for their Posterity and Family. The Custom and Interest of Marriage concerns our Race much more than us; and therefore it is, that I like to have a Match carried on by a third hand, rather than a Man's own, and by another Man's liking than that of the Party himself; and how much is all this opposite to contracts of Love? And also it is a kind of Incest to employ in this venerable and sacred Alliance, the heat and extravagance of amorous Licence, as I think I have said elsewhere. A man, says Ariosto, must approach his Wife with Prudence and Modesty, lest in dealing too lasciviously with her, the extreme Pleasure make her exceed the bounds of Reason. What he says upon the account of Conscience, the Physicians say upon the account of Health: That a Pleasure excessively lascivious, voluptuous, and frequent, makes the Seed too hot, and hinders Conception: 'Tis said on the contrary, that to a languishing Congression, as that naturally is, to supply it with a due and fruitful Heat, a man must do it but seldom, and by notable Intermissions; 
Virg. Georg. l. 3.  Quod rapiat sitiens venerem interiusque recondat. I see no marriages where the conjugal Intelligence sooner fails, than those that we contract upon the account of Beauty and amorous Desires; there should be more solid and constant foundation, and they should proceed with greater Circumspection; this furious Ardour is worth nothing. They who think they honour marriage by joining Love to it, do, methinks, like those, who to favour Virtue, hold, that Nobility is nothing else but Virtue; they are indeed things that have some relation to one another, but there is a great deal of difference; we should not so mix their Names and Titles, 'tis a wrong to them both, so to confound them. Nobility is a brave Quality, and with good reason introduced; but forasmuch as 'tis a Quality depending upon others, and may happen in a vicious Person, 'tis in estimate infinitely below Virtue. 'Tis a Virtue, if it be one, that is artificial and apparent, depending upon Time and Fortune; various in form, according to the Countries, Living, and Mortal; without Birth, as the River Nile; genealogical and common, drawn by Consequence, and a very weak one. Knowledge, Strength, Bounty, Beauty, Riches, and all other Qualities, fall into Communication and Commerce, but this is consummated in itself, and of no use to the Service of others. There was proposed to one of our Kings the choice of two Concurrents, who both pretended to the same Command, of which the one was a Gentleman, the other was not; he ordered, that without respect to Quality, they should choose him who had the most merit; but where the worth of the Competitors should appear to be entirely equal, they should have respect to Birth: this was justly to give it its due rank. A Youngman unknown, coming to Antigonus to make suit for his Father's Command, a valiant Man, but lately dead: Friend, said he, in such preferments as those, I have not so much regard to the Nobility of my Soldiers as their Prowess: And indeed it ought not to go as it did with the Officers of the Kings of Sparta, Trumpeters, Fiddlers, Cooks, the Children of whom always succeeded in their Places, how ignorant soever, and were preferred before the most experimented in the Trade. They of Calicut make a sort of Nobles above humane. They are interdicted marriage, and all but warlike Employments They may have Concubines their fill, and the Women as many Ruffians, without being jealous of one another; but 'tis a capital and irremissible Crime to couple with a Person of meaner Condition than themselves, and they think themselves polluted, if they have but touched one in walking along; and supposing their Nobility to be marvellously injured and interested in it, kill such as only approach a little too near them: insomuch that the ignoble are obliged to cry as they go, like the Gundeleers of Venice, at the turnings of Streets, for fear of justling, and the Nobles command them to step aside to what part they please: by which means the last avoid what they repute a perpetual Ignominy, and the other a certain Death. No time, no favour of the Prince, no Office, or Virtue, or Riches, can ever prevail to make a Plebeian become noble. To which this Custom is assisting, that marriages are interdicted betwixt several Trades; neither is the Daughter of a Shoemaker permitted to marry with a Carpenter; and the Parents are obliged to train up their Children precisely in their own Callings, and not put them to any other Trade; by which means the distinction and continuation of their Fortune is maintained. A good marriage, if it be really so, rejects the Company and Conditions of Love, and tries to represent those of Friendship. 'Tis a sweet Society of Life, full of Constancy, Trust, and an infinite number of useful and solid Offices and mutual Obligations; of which any Woman that has a right taste 

Optato quam junxit lumine taedae,   

Whose Hymeneal Torch shines bright,  
Kindled by a whisked light.   would be loath to serve her Husband in quality of a Mistress. If they be lodged in his affection as a Wife, she is more honourably and securely placed. When he pretends to be in love with another, and works all he can to obtain his desire, let any one but then ask him, on which he had rather a Disgrace should fall, his Wife or his Mistress, which of their misfortunes would most afflict him, and to which of them he wishes the most Grandeur; these Questions are out of dispute in a sound marriage: and that so few are observed to be happy, is a token of its Price and Value. If well formed, and rightly taken, 'tis the best of all humane Societies. We cannot live without it, and yet we do nothing but decry it. It happens, as with Cages, the Birds without despair to get in, and those within despair of getting out. Socrates, being asked whether it was more commodious to take a Wife, or not, Let a Man take which course he will, said he, he will be sure to repent. 'Tis a Contract to which the common Saying, Homo homini, aut Deus, aut Lupus, 
Erasm. Ad●g.  Man to Man is either a God or a Wolf, may very fitly be applied. There must be a Concurrence of many Qualities to the erecting it. It is found now a days more convenient for innocent and Plebeian Souls, where Delights, Curiosity, and Idleness do not so much disturb it; but extravagant Humours, such as mine, that hate all sorts of Obligation and Restraint, are not proper for it.  


Gallus. Ele. 1.  Et mihi dulce magis resoluto vivere collo.   

For Liberty to me is far more sweet  
Than all the Pleasures of the Nuptial Sheet.   
Might I have had my own Will, I would not have married Wisdom herself, if she would have had me. But 'tis to much purpose to evade it, the common custom and usance of Life will have it so. The most of my Actions are guided by Example, not by Choice. And yet I did not go to it of my own voluntary Motion, I was led and drawn to it by strange and accidental Occasions. For not only things that are incommodious in themselves, but also nothing so ugly, vicious, and to be avoided, that may not be rendered acceptable by some Condition or Accident; so unsteady and vain is all humane Resolution. And I was persuaded to it, when worse prepared, and more backward than I am at present, that I have tried what it is. And as great a Libertine as I am taken to be, I have in truth more strictly observed the Laws of Marriage, than I either promised, or expected. 'Tis in vain to kick when a Man has once put on his Fetters. A man must prudently manage his Liberty; but having once submitted to Obligation, he must confine himself within the Laws of common Duty, at least, do what he can towards it. They who engage in this Contract, with a Design to carry themselves in it with hatred and contempt, do an unjust and inconvenient thing; and the fine Rule that I hear pass from hand to hand amongst the Women, as a sacred Oracle, 

Sers ton mary comme ton maistre,  
Et t'en garde comme d'un traitre.   

Serve thy Husband like a Waiter,  
But guard thyself as from a Traitor.   which is to say, comport thyself towards him with a dissembled inimical, and distrustful Reverence and Respect, (a stile of War and Defiance) is equally injurious and hard. I am too mild for such rugged Designs. To say the truth, I am not arrived to that Perfection of cunning and gallantry of Wit, to confound Reason with Justice, and to laugh at all Rule and Order that does not please my Palate; because I hate Superstition, I do not presently run into the contrary extreme of irreligion. If a man does not always perform his Duty, he ought at least to love and acknowledge it, 'tis Treachery to marry without espousing. Let us proceed further. Our Poet represents a Marriage happy in good intelligence, wherein nevertheless there is not much Loyalty. Does he mean, that it is not impossible but a Woman may give the reins to her own Passion, and yield to the importunities of Love, and yet reserve some Duty toward Marriage, and that it may be hurt without being totally broken? Such a serving Man there may be, as may ride in his Master's Saddle, whom nevertheless he does not hate. Beauty, Opportunity, and Destiny, (for Destiny has also a hand in't) 
— fatum est in partibus illis  

Juven. Sat. 9  Quas sinus abscondit; nam si tibi Sidera cessent,  
Nil faciet longi mensura incognita Nervi.  have debauched her to a Stranger; though not so wholly peradventure, but that she may have some remains of kindness for her Husband. They are two Designs, that have several paths leading to them, without being confounded with one another; and a Woman may yield to such a Man as she would by no means have married, not only for the Condition of his Fortune, but the dislike of his Person. Few men have made a Wife of a Mistress, that have not repent it. And even in the other World, what an unhappy Life does Jupiter lead with his, whom he had first enjoyed as a Mistress? 'Tis, as the Proverb is, to shit in the Basket, and then to put it upon his Head. I have in my time seen Love shamefully and dishonestly cured in a good Family by Marriage, the Considerations are too much different. We love at once two things contrary in themselves without any disturbance. Isocrates was wont to say, that the City of Athens pleased as Ladies do that men court for Love; every one loved to come thither to take a turn, and pass away his time; but no one liked it so well as to espouse it, that is, to inhabit there, and to make it his constant Residence. I have been vexed to see Husbands hate their Wives only because they do them wrong. We should not however, methinks, love them the less for our Faults; they should, at least upon the account of Repentance and Compassion, be dearer to us. They are different ends, and yet in some sort compatible. Marriage has Utility, Justice, Honour, and Constancy for its share; a flat, but more universal Pleasure: Love found'st itself wholly upon Pleasure, and indeed has it more full, lively and stinging; a Pleasure inflamed by difficulty; there must be in it sting and ardour: 'Tis no more Love, if without Darts and Fire. The Bounty of Ladies is too profuse in marriage, and dulls the point of Affection and Desire: To evade which inconvenience, do but observe what pains Lycurgus and Plato take in their Laws. Women are not to blame at all, when they refuse the Rules of Life that are introduced into the World; forasmuch as the Men made them without their Consent. There is naturally Contention and Brawling betwixt them and us; and the strictest Friendship we have with them, is yet mixed with Tumult and Tempest. In the Opinion of our Author, we deal inconsiderately with them in this. After we have discovered, that they are without comparison more able and ardent in the Effects of Love than we, and that the old Priest has testified so much, who had been one while a Man, and then a Woman: 


Ovid. Metam. lib. 3.  Venus huic erat utraque nota:   

Tiresias must decide  

Mr. Sandys.  The difference, who both Delights had tried.   and moreover, that we have learned from their own Mouths, the proof that in several Ages was made by an Emperor and an Empress of Rome, both famous for Ability in that Affair: for he in one Night deflowered ten Sarmatian Virgins that were his Captives: but she had five and twenty bouts in one Night, changing her Man according to her need and liking: 


Juvenal. Sat. 6. — adhuc ardens rigidae tentigine vulvae:  
Et lassata Viris, nondum satiata recessit.   and that upon the difference which happened in Catalognia, wherein, a Wife complaining of her Husbands too frequent addresses to her (not so much as I conceive, that she was incommodated by it (for I believe no Miracles out of Religion) as under this pretence to curtail and curb in this, which is the fundamental act of Marriage, the Authority of Husbands over their Wives, and to show that their Frowardness and Malignity go beyond the Nuptial Bed, and spurn under foot even the Graces and sweets of Venus;) the Husband, a man really brutish and unnatural, replied, that on fasting days he could not subsist with less than ten courses. Whereupon came out that notable Sentence of the Queen of Arragon▪ by which, after mature deliberation of her Counsel, this good Queen, to give a Rule and Example to all succeeding Ages of the moderation required in a just Marriage, set down six times a day as a Legitimate and Necessary stint; surrendering and quitting a great deal of the needs and desires of her Sex, that she might, she said, establish an easy, and consequently, a permanent and immutable Method. Hereupon Doctors cry out, What the Devil must the female Appetite and Concupiscence be, when their Reason, their Reformation and Virtue, is taxed at such a rate? Considering the divers Judgements of our Appetites; for Solon, Patron of the Law-Schools, taxes us but at three a Month, that men may not fail in point of Conjugal frequentation. After having, I say, believed, and preached all this, we go and enjoin them Continency for their particular share, and upon the extremest Penalties. There is no Passion so hard to contend with as this, which we will have them only to resist; not simply as a Vice only, but as an execrable Abomination, worse than Irreligion, and a Parricide; whilst we at the same time go to't without Offence or Reproach: Even those Women amongst us who have tried to do it, have sufficiently confessed what difficulty, or rather impossibility, they have found by material Remedies, to subdue, weaken, and oppose the Body. We, on the contrary, would have them Sound, Vigorous, in good liking, high fed, and Chaste together, that is to say, both hot and cold; for the Marriage, which we say is to keep them from burning, is but a small Refreshment to them, as we order the matter: For if they take one whose vigorous Age is hot and boiling, he will be proud that his Neighbours know it. 

Mart. l. 12. Epig. 99  Sit tandem pudor, aut eamus in jus,  
Multis Mentula millibus redempta,  
Non est haec tua, Basse, vendidisti.  Polemon the Philosopher was justly by his Wife brought in question for sowing in a barren Field the Seed that was due to one that was fruitful. If on the other side, they take a decayed Fellow, they are in a worse condition in Marriage than either Maids or Widows. We think them well provided for, because they have a man to lie withal, as the Romans concluded Clodia Laeta, a Vestal Nun, violated, because Caligula had approached her, though it was affirmed he did no more but approach her: but on the contrary, we by that increase their Necessity, forasmuch as the touching and Company of any man whatever rouses their desires, that in Solitude would be more quiet. And to the end, 'tis likely, that they might render their Chastity more meritorious by this Circumstance and Consideration; Boleslaus, and King his Wife, King and Queen of Poland, 
Chastity vowed and kept on the Wedding day.  vowed it by mutual consent, being in Bed together, on their very Wedding day, and kept their Vow in spite of all matrimonial Conveniencies and Delights. We train them up from their Infancy to the traffic of Love; their Grace, Dressing, Knowledge, Language, and whole Instruction tend that way: Their Governesses imprint nothing in them but the Idea of Love, if for nothing else but by continually representing it to them, to make them disgust it. My Daughter, the only Child I have, is now of an Age that forward young Women are allowed to be married at; she is of a slow, thin, and tender Complexion, and has accordingly been brought up by her Mother after a private and particular manner, so that she but now begins to be weaned from her childish Simplicity. She was one day reading before me in a French Book, where she happened to meet the word 
* Beech-Tree.  fouteau, the name of a Tree very well known; the Woman to whose Conduct she is committed, stopped her short a little rudely, and made her skip over that dangerous step; I let her alone, not to trouble their Rules, for I never concern myself in that sort of Government. The Feminine Policy has a mysterious proceeding, we must leave it to them; but if I am not mistaken, the Commerce of twenty Lackeys could not in six months' time have so imprinted in her Fancy the meaning, usage, and all the consequence of the sound of these smutty Syllables, as this good old Woman did by Reprimand and Interdiction. 


Horace, lib. 3. Ode 6.  Motus doceri gaudet jonicos  
Natura virgo, & frangitur artubus  
Jam nunc, & incestos amores  
De tenero meditatur ungui.   

The Maid, for marriage ripe, much joys to learn  

Sir Thomas Hawkins.  jonick Dances, and can well discern,  
With Art to feign, and quickly prove  
The Pleasures of unlawful Love.   Let them but give themselves the rain a little, let them but enter into liberty of Discourse, we are but Children to them in this Science: Hear them but represent our Pursuits and Discourses, they will very well make you understand that we bring them nothing they have not known before, and digested without our help. Is it perhaps, as Plato says, that they have formerly been debauched young Fellows? I happened one day to be in a Place where I could learn some of their Talk without suspicion; I am sorry I cannot repeat it. By'rlady, said I, 'tis time for us to go study the Phrases of Amadis, Boccace, and Aretine, to be able to Discourse with them: We employ our time to much purpose indeed, there is neither Word, Example, nor Step, they are not more perfect in than our Books; 'tis a Discipline that springs with their Blood, 

Et mentem ipsa Venus dedit. 
Virg. Georg. l. 3.    

Venus herself has made them what they are.   which these good Instructers, Nature, Youth, and Health, are continually inspiring them with, they need not learn, they breed it; 

Nec tantum niveo gavisa est ulla columbo, 
Catullus.   
Compar, vel si quid dicitur improbius,  
Oscula mordenti semper decerpere rostro:  
Quantum praecipue multivola est mulier.   

Not more delighted is the milk-white Dove,  
Or if there be a thing more prone to Love,  
Still to be Billing with her mate, than is  
Woman, with every man she meets to kiss.   So that if the natural Violence of their desire were not a little restrained by Fear and Honour, which were wisely contrived for them, we should be all shamed. All the motions in the World tend to this Conjunction; 'tis a matter infused throughout: 'tis a Centre to which all things tend. We yet see the Edicts of the old and wise Rome, made for the service of Love, and the Precepts of Socrates for the Instruction of Courtesans.  

Nec non libelli Stoici, inter sericos  
Jacere pulvillos amant. 
Horace, Ep. 8.    

And Stoical Books, for all their gravity,  
Amongst silk Cushions love to lie.   
Zeno, amongst his Laws, did also regulate the divarications and motions in getting a Maidenhead. Of what sense was the Philosopher Strato's Book of carnal Conjunction? And what did Theophrastus treat of in those he entitled the one the Lover, and the other, of Love? Of what Aristippus in his of ancient Delights? What do the so long and lively Descriptions in Plato of the Loves of his time pretend to? And the Book called the Lover, of Demetrius Phalerus? And Clinias, that of getting Children, or of Weddings; and the other of the Master, or the Lover? And that of Aristo of amorous Exercises? What those of Cleanthes, one of Love, the other of the art of Loving? The amorous Dialogues of Spherus? and the Fable of Jupiter and Juno, of Chrysippus, impudent beyond all toleration? And his fifty so lascivious Epistles? I will let alone the Writings of the Philosophers of the Epicurean Sect, protectrice of Voluptuousness and Pleasure. Fifty Deities were in time passed assigned to this Office: and there has been a Nation found out, where, to assuage the Lust of those that came to their Devotion, they had purposely Strumpets in their Temples for them to lie withal; 
Whores kept in Temples for the use of those who came 〈…〉.  and it was an act of Ceremony to do that before they went to Prayers. Nimirum propter continentiam incontinentia necessaria est, incendium ignibus extinguitur. Doubtless Incontinency is necessary for Continency's sake: a Conflagration is extinguished by fire. In the greatest part of the World, that Member of our Body was deified. In the same Province, some flayed off the Skin to offer and consecrate a Piece, others offered and consecrated their Seed. In another, the Youngmen publicly cut through betwixt the Skin and the Flesh of that part in several places, and thrust pieces of Wood into the Overtures as long and thick as they would receive, and of those pieces of Wood afterwards made a fire for an Offering to their Gods, and were reputed neither Vigorous nor Chaste, if by the force of that intolerable Pain they seemed to be any thing dismayed. Elsewhere, the most Sacred Magistrate was reverenced and acknowledged by that Member: and in several Ceremonies the Picture of it was carried in pomp to the Honour of several Divinities. The Egyptian Ladies in their Bacchanals carried every one one carved of Wood about their Necks, exactly made great and heavy as every one was able to bear, besides one which the Statue of their God represented, which in greatness surpassed all the rest of his Body. The married Women near to the place where I live, make of their Kerchiefs the Figure of one upon their Foreheads to glorify themselves in the enjoyment they have of it; and coming to be Widows, they throw it behind, and cover it with their Head-cloths. The most modest Matrons of Rome, thought it an Honour to offer Flowers and Garlands to the God Priapus. And they made the Virgins, at the time of their Espousals, sit upon his shameful Parts. And I know not whether I have not in my time seen some air of like Devotion. What was the meaning of that ridiculous thing our Forefathers wore before on their Breeches, 
Codpices worn.  and that is still worn by the Swiss? To what end do we make a show of our Implements in Figure under our Gaskins, and often, which is worse, above their natural size, by a kind of Imposture? I have half a mind to believe that this sort of Vestment was invented in the better and more Conscientious Ages, that the World might not be deceived, and that every one should give a public account of his Dimensions: The simple Nations wear them yet, and near about the real size. In those days the Tailor took measure, as the Shoemaker does now, of a Leg or a Foot. That good Man, who, when I was young, gelt so many noble and antic Statues in his great City, that they might not corrupt the sight, according to the advice of this other old good Man; Flagitii principium est nudare inter cives corpora. 'Tis the beginning of Wickedness to show their Nudities in public. I should have called to mind, that as in the Mysteries of the Goddesses all Masculine appearance was excluded, that he did no thing, if he did not geld Horses and Asses, and finally all Nature too.  

Omne adeo genus in terris, 
Virgil. Georg. l. 3.  hominumque ferarumque,  
Et genus aequoreum, pecudes pictaeque volucres,  
In furias ignemque ruunt.—   

All men on Earth, and Beasts both mild and tame, 
Mr. Ogilby.   
Sea-Monsters, gaudy Foul, rush to this flame,  
The same love works in all.   
The Gods, says Plato, have given us one disobedient and unruly Member, that like a furious Animal, attempts by the Violence of its Appetite, to subject all things to it. And they have given Women one that has the same Qualities, like a greedy and ravenous Animal, which if one refuse to give him Food in season, grows wild, impatient of delay, and infusing the rage into their Bodies, stops the passages, and hinders Respiration, causing a thousand Inconveniencies; till having imbibed the Fruit of the common thirst, he has plentifully besprinkled and bedewed the bottom of their Womb. Now my Legislator should also have considered, that peradventure it were a chaster and more fruitful usance to let them know the quick betimes, than permit them to guests according to the liberty and heat of their own Fancy; instead of real parts, they substitute through hope and desire, others that are three times more extravagant. And a certain Friend of mine lost himself by producing his in place not yet fit to admit them to their more serious use. What Mischief do not those Pictures of prodigious dimension do, that the Boys make upon the Staircases and Galleries of the Royal Houses? which give them a strange contempt of our natural Furniture. And what do we know but that Plato, after other well instituted Republics, ordered, that the Man and Woman, old and young, should expose themselves naked to the view of one another, in his Gymnastick, upon that very account? The Indians, who see the men stark naked, have at least cooled the sense of Seeing. And let the Women of the Kingdom of Pegu say what they will, (who below the waste have nothing to cover them but a Cloth slit before, and so strait, that what decency and modesty soever they pretend by it, at every step all is to be seen) that it is an Invention found out to allure the men to them, and to divert them from the Boys, to which that Nation is generally inclined; yet peradventure they lose more by it than they get, and a man may venture to say, that an entire Appetite is more sharp than one already glutted by the eyes. And also Livia was wont to say, that to a Virtuous Woman a naked Man was but a Statue. The Lacedaemonian Women, more Virgins when Wives, than our Daughters are; saw every day the Youngmen of their City stripped naked in their Exercises; little minding themselves to cover their Thighs in walking, believing themselves, says Plato, sufficiently covered with their Virtue without any other Robe. But those of whom St. Austin speaks, have given nudity a wonderful power of Temptation, that have made it a Doubt, whether Women at the day of Judgement shall rise again in their own Sex, and not rather in ours, for fear of tempting us again in that holy estate. In brief, we allure and flesh them by all sorts of ways: We incessantly heat and stir up their Imagination, and yet we find fault. Let us confess the truth; there is scarce one of us that does not more apprehend the shame that accrues to him by the Vices of his Wife, than by his own, and that is not more solicitous (a wonderful Charity) of the Conscience of his virtuous Wife than of his own; who had not rather commit Theft and Sacrilege, and that his Wife was a Murtheress and a Heretic, than that she should not be more chaste than her Husband. An unjust estimate of Vices. Both we and they are capable of a thousand Corruptions more prejudicial and unnatural than Lust: But we weigh Vices not according to Nature, but according to our Interest; by which means they take so many unequal forms. The austerity of our Decrees renders the propension of Women to this Vice more violent and vicious than its Condition will bear, and engages it in Consequences worse than their Cause. They will voluntarily offer to go to the Exchange to seek for Gain, and to the War to get Reputation, rather than in the midst of ease and delights to have to do with so difficult a Guard. Do not they very well see that there is neither Merchant nor Soldier, who will not leave his business to run after this other, and so much as the Porter and Cobbler, toiled and tired out as they are with Labour and Hunger? 


Horace, lib. 2. Ode 12.  Num tu quae tenuit dives Achaemenes,  
Aut pinguis Phrygiae Mygdonias opes,  
Permutare velis crine Licinniae,  
Plenas aut arabum domos,  
Dum fragrantia detorquet ad osculae  
Cervicem, aut facili saevitia negat,  
Quae poscente magis gaudeat eripi.  
Interdum rapere occupet?   

Wouldst thou for all that Achaemenes had,  
Or all the Phrygian Wealth before thee laid,  
Or Riches that in Arab's Houses are,  
Change thy Licinnias golden Hair,  
When she her neck to fragrant Kisses wries,  
Or with a pretty Anger them denies,  
What she would rather give than take by far,  
And snatches them ere she's aware?   I cannot tell whether the Exploits of Alexander and Caesar do really surpass the Resolution of a beautiful young Woman, bred up after our fashion in the Light and Commerce of the World, battered by so many contrary Examples, and yet keeping herself entire in the midst of a thousand continual and powerful Solicitations and Pursuits. There is no doing more prickly than that not doing, nor more active. I find it more easy to carry a suit of Arms all the days of a man's Life, than a Maidenhead; and the Vow of Virginity, of all others is the most noble, as being the hardest to keep. Diaboli Virtus in Lumbis est, 
Diu. Hieron. in Epist.  says St. Hierom. We have doubtless resigned to the Ladies the most difficult, and most vigorous of all humane endeavours, and let us resign to them the Glory too. This aught to encourage them to be obstinate in it, 'tis a brave thing for them to defy us, and to spurn under foot that vain pre-eminence of Valour and Virtue that we pretend to have over them. They will find, if they do but observe it, that they will not only be much more esteemed for it, but also much more beloved. A gallant Man does not give over his pursuit for being refused, provided it be a refusal of Chastity, and not of choice. We may swear, threaten, and complain to much purpose; we lie, we love them the better: there is no allurement like Modesty, if it be not rude and uncivil. 'Tis stupidity and meanness, to be obstinate against hatred and disdain; but against a virtuous and constant Resolution, mixed with an acknowledgement, 'tis the exercise of a noble and generous Soul. They may acknowledge our Services to a certain degree, and give us civilly to understand, that they disdain us not. For that Law that enjoins them to abominate us, because we adore them, and to hate us because we love them; is certainly very severe, if but for the difficulty of it. Why should they not give ear to our offers and demands, so long as they are contained within the bounds of Modesty? Wherefore should we fancy them to have other thoughts within, and to be worse than they seem? A Queen of our time ingeniously said, that to refuse these Courtships is a Testimony of weakness in Women, and a self accusation of Facility; and that a Lady could not boast of her Chastity, who was never tempted. The Limits of Honour are not cut so short, they may give themselves a little rain, and dispense a little without forfeiting themselves; there lies before the Frontier some space free, indifferent and neuter: he that has beaten and pursued her into her Fort, is a strange fellow if he be not satisfied with his Fortune. The price of the Conquest is considered by the difficulty. Would you know what impression your Service and Merit have made in her Heart? Judge of it by her Behaviour. Some may grant more, who do not grant so much. The Obligation of a Benefit wholly relates to the good will of those who confer it, the other coincident Circumstances are dumb, dead, and casual. It costs her dearer to grant you that little, than it would do her Companion to grant all. If in any thing rarity give the estimation, it ought especially in this. Do not consider how little it is that is given, but how few have it to give. The value of Money altars according to the Coin, and stamp of the Place. Whatever the spite and indiscretion of some may make them say upon the excess of their Discontent; yet Virtue and Truth will in time recover all. I have known some, whose Reputation has for a great while suffered under slander, who have after been restored to the World's universal Opinion, merely by their Constancy, without care or artifice; every one reputes, and gives himself the lie for what he has believed and said; and from Maids, a little suspected, they have been afterward advanced to the first rank amongst the Ladies of Honour. Some body told Plato, that all the World spoke ill of him. Let them talk, said he, I will live so as to make them change their Note. Besides the fear of God, and the price of so rare a Renown, which ought to make them look to themselves, the corruption of the Age we live in compels them to it; and if I were as they, there is nothing I would not rather do, than intrust my Reputation in so dangerous hands. In my time, the Pleasure of telling (a Pleasure little inferior to that of doing) was not permitted but to those who had some faithful and only Friend; but now the ordinary Discourse and common Table-talk, is nothing but boasts of Favours received, and the secret Liberality of Ladies. In earnest. 'tis too abject, and too much meanness of Spirit, to suffer such ingrateful, indiscreet, and giddyheaded People, so to persecute, tease, and rifle those tender and obliging Favours. This our immoderate and illegitimate Exasperation against this Vice, springs from the most vain and turbulent Disease that afflicts humane Minds, which is Jealousy; 


Ovid de Art. Amandi.  Quis vetat apposito Lumen de lumine sumi?  
Dent licet assiduè, nil tamen inde perit.   

That Light from Light be taken, who'll deny?  
Though they do nought but give, nought's lost thereby.   she, 
Jealousy and Envy.  and Envy her Sister, seem to me to be the most idle and foolish of the whole Troop. As to the last, I can say little to't, a Passion, that though said to be so mighty and powerful, had never to do with me. As to the other, I know it by sight, and that's all. Beasts feel it. The Shepherd Cratis, being fallen in love with a She-Goat, the He out of jealously, came to butt him as he was laid a sleep, and beat out his Brains. We have raised this Fever to a greater excess by the Examples of some barbarous Nations; the best disciplined have been touched with it, and 'tis reason; but not transported: 


Ovid.  Ense maritali nemo confessus Adulter,  
Purpureo Stygias Sanguine tinxit aquas.   

ne'er did Adulterer, by a Husband slain,  
With purple Blood the Stygian Waters stain.   Lucullus, Caesar, Pompey, Antonius, Cato, and other brave men, were Cuckolds, and knew it, without making any bustle about it. There was in those days but one Coxcomb, Lepidus, that died for Grief that his Wife had used him so. 
Ah! tum te miserum, malique fati, 
Catullus. Ep. 15.   
Quem attractis pedibus patente porta,  
Percurrent mugilesque raphanique.  And the God of our Poet, when he surprised one of his Companions with his Wife, satisfied himself with putting them to shame only. 

Atque aliquis de Diis non tristibus optat, 
Ovid. Metam. lib. 4.   
Sic fieri turpis.—   

— they shamefully lay bound, 
Mr. Sandys.   
Yet one a wanton wished to be so found.   and nevertheless took fire at the soft embraces she gave him, complaining, that upon that account she was grown jealous of his Affection. 

Quid causas petis ex alto? 
Virgil. Aeneid. l. 8.  fiducia cessit  
Quo tibi Diva mei?—   

What needest thou doubt, 
Mr. Ogilby.  and make a question thus?  
Where is your Confidence reposed in us?   Nay, she entreats Arms for a Bastard of hers, 

Arma rogo genitrix nato. 
Ibid.    

Another for her Son does Armour crave.   which are freely granted; and Vulcan speaks honourably of Aeneas; 

Arma acri facienda viro. 
Ibid.    

Arms for a valiant Hero must be made. 
Mr. Ogilby.    with, in truth, a more than humane Humanity. And I am willing to leave this excess of Bounty to the Gods: 


Catullus, Num. 69.  Nec divis homines componere aequum est.   

Nor is it fit to equal men with Gods.   As to the confusion of Children, besides that the gravest Legislators ordain and affect it in their Republics, it nettles not the Women, where this Passion is I know not how much better seated. 


Ibid.  Saepe etiam Juno maxima Caelicolam  
Conjugis in culpa flagravit quotidiana.   

And Juno, with fierce jealousy inflamed,  
Her Husband's daily slips has often blamed.   When Jealousy seizes these poor, weak, and resistless Souls, 'tis pity to see how miserably it torments and tyrannises over them; it insinuates itself into them under the title of Friendship, but after it has once possessed them, the same causes that served for a foundation of good Will, serve them for a foundation of mortal Hatred: 'tis, of all the diseases of the Mind, that which most things serve for Aliment, and fewest for Remedy. The Virtue, Health, Merit, and Reputation of the Husband, are the Incendiaries of their Fury and ill Will. 

Nullae sunt inimicitiae nisi amoris acerbae. 
Propertius.    

Their Angers are but the effects of Love.   This Fever defaces and corrupts all they have of beautiful and good besides. And there is no action of a jealous Woman, let her be how chaste and how good a Housewife soever, that does not relish of Anger and Rudeness. 'Tis a furious Agitation, that rebounds them to an Extremity quite contrary to its Cause: Which was very manifest in one Octavius at Rome, who, having lain with Pontia Posthumia, found his love so much augmented by Fruition, that he solicited with all importunity to marry her, which seeing he could not persuade her to, this excessive Affection precipitated him to the effects of the most cruel and mortal hatred, for he killed her. In like manner, the ordinary symptoms of this other amorous Disease, are intestine Hatreds, private Conspiracies and Conjurations, 

Notumque, furens quid foemina possit. 
Aeneid. lib. 5.    

— The cause unknown,  
But that a desperate Woman carried on 
Mr. Ogilby.   
With Rage might do,   and a Rage which so much the more frets itself, as it is compelled to excuse itself by a pretence of good Will. Now the duty of Chastity is of a vast Extent. Is it their Wills that we would have them restrain? That is a very pliant and active thing, a thing very quick and nimble to be stayed. How? if Dreams sometimes engage them so far that they cannot deny them. It is not in them, nor peradventure in Chastity itself, seeing it is a Female, to defend itself from Lust and Desire. If we are only interested in their Will, what a case are we in then? Do but imagine what crowding there would be amongst Men in pursuance of these Privileges, to run full speed, though without Tongue and Eyes, into every Woman's Arms that would accept them. The Scythian Women put out the Eyes of all their Slaves and Prisoners of War, that they might have their Pleasure of them, and they never the wiser. Oh, the furious advantage of Opportunity! Should any one ask me, what was the first part of Love, I should Answer, that it was how to take a man's time, and so the second, and so the third; 'tis a point that can do every thing. I have sometimes wanted Fortune, but I have also sometimes been wanting to myself in matter of Attempt. There is greater Temerity required in this Age of ours, which our young People excuse under the name of heat. But should Women examine it more strictly, they would find, that it rather proceeded from Contempt. I was always superstitiously afraid of giving offence, and have ever had a great respect for her I loved: Besides, who in this traffic takes away the Reverence, defaces at the same time the Lustre. I would in this Affair have a Man a little play the Child, the Timorous, and the Servant: If not altogether in this, I have in other things some air of the foolish bashfulness whereof Plutarch makes mention; and the course of my Life has been divers ways hurt and blemished with it, a Quality very ill suiting my universal Form: And what is there also amongst us but Sedition and Discord? I am as much our of Countenance to be denied as I am to deny; and it so much troubles me to be troublesome to others, that in occasions where Duty compels to try the goodwill of any one in a thing that is doubtful, and that will be chargeable to him, I do it very faintly, and very much against my will: But if it be for my own particular, (whatever Homer truly says, that Modesty is a foolish Virtue in an indigent Person) I commonly commit it to a third Person to blush for me, and deny those that employ me with the same difficulty; so that it has sometimes befallen me to have had a mind to deny when I had not the power to do it. 'Tis folly then to attempt to bridle in Women a Desire that is so powerful in them, and so natural to them. And when I hear them brag of having so maidenly and so temperate a Will, I laugh at them. They retire too far back. If it be an old Toothless Trot, or a young dry Consumptive thing, though it be not altogether to be believed, at least, they may say it with more similitude of truth. But they, who are yet capable of love, and still pant with desire, talk at that ridiculous rate to their own prejudice, by reason that inconsiderate excuses are a kind of self Accusation. Like a Gentleman, a Neighbour of mine, suspected to be insufficient; 

Catullus, Num. 68  Languidior tenera cui pendens sicula beta,  
Nunquam se mediam sustulit ad tunicam.  who three or four days after he was married, to justify himself, swore aloud that he had rid twenty Stages the Night before: an Oath that was afterwards made use of to convince him of his ignorance in that Affair, and to divorce him from his Wife. Besides, it signifies nothing, for there is neither Continency nor Virtue where there are no opposing Desires. It is true, they may say, but they will not yield unto it. Saints themselves speak after that manner; I mean those who boast in good earnest of their coldness and insensibility, and who expect to be believed when they profess it with a grave and serious Countenance; for when 'tis spoken with an affected Look, where their Eyes give the lie to their Tongue, and speak in the Cant of their Profession, which always goes against the hair, 'tis good sport. I am a great Servant of Liberty and Plainness, but there is no remedy, if it be wholly simple or childish 'tis silly, and unbecoming Ladies in this Commerce; and presently runs into Impudence: Their Disguises and Figures only serve to cozen Fools. Lying is there in its seat of Honour; 'tis a by-way, that by a backdoor leads us to Truth. If we cannot curb their Imagination, what would we have them do? Do indeed? There are enough who evade all Communication, by which Chastity may be corrupted. 

Illud saepe facit, quod sine teste facit. 
Mart. Ep. lib. 7. Epig. 61.    

He often does himself apply  
To that he does when none is by.   And those whom we fear the least, are peradventure most to be feared; their Sins that make the least noise are the worst. 

Offender moecha simpliciore minus. 
Id. lib. 6. Ep. 7.    

A professed Strumpet less offence does give.   There are ways by which they may lose their Virginity without prostitution, and, which is more, without their knowledge. 
D. Aug. de Civit, 1.1. Cap. 18.  Obstetrix virginis cujusdam integritatem manu velut explorans, sive malevolentia, sive inscitia, sive casu, dum inspicit, perdidit. Some one by seeking her Maidenhead has lost it, another by playing with it has destroyed it. We cannot precisely circumscribe the occasions; we interdict them. They must guests at our meaning under general and doubtful terms. The very Idea we invent for their Chastity is ridiculous: for, amongst the greatest Examples arrived at my knowledge, Fatua, 
The extreme Chastity of some Women.  the Wife of Fannus, is one, who never after her Marriage suffered herself to be seen by any man what ever; and the Wife of Hiero, who never perceived her Husband's stinking Breath, imagining that it was common to all men. They must become insensible and invisible to satisfy us. Now let us confess, that the knot of this Judgement of Duty does principally lie in the Will. There have been Husbands who have suffered this accident, not only without reproach, or taking offence at their Wives, but with singular Obligation to them, and great commendation of their Virtue. Such a Woman has been, who prized her Honour above her Life, and yet has prostituted it to the furious Lust of a mortal Enemy to save her Husband's Life, and who, in so doing, did that for him, she would not have done for herself! It is not here that we are to produce their Examples, they are too high and rich to be set off with so poor a Foil as I can give them here, let us reserve them for a nobler place; but for Examples of ordinary lustre, Do we not every day see Women amongst us that surrender themselves for their Husband's only benefit, and by their express Order and Mediation? and of old Phaulius the Argian, who offered his to King Philip out of Ambition, as that Galba did out of Civility, who having entertained Moecenae at Supper, and observing that his Wife and he began to cast Sheep's eyes at one another, and to complot Love by signs, let himself sink down upon his Cushion, like one in a profound sleep, to give opportunity to their desires: 
Women prostituted by the mediation of their Husbands, and for their Advantage.  which he also handsomely confessed, for at the same time a Servant making bold to clatter the Plate that stood upon the Table, he plainly cried; What a noise do you make, you Rogue? do you not see that I only sleep for Moecenae? Such a Man may be, whose Manners may be lewd enough, and yet whose Will may be more reformed than another, who outwardly carries himself after a more regular manner: As we see some, who complain of having vowed Chastity before they knew what they did; and I have also known others really complain of having given themselves up to Debauchery before they were of years of Discretion. The Vice of the Parents, or the impulse of Nature, which is a rude Councillor, may be the cause. In the East Indies, though Chastity is of singular Reputation, yet Custom permitted a married Woman to prostitute herself to any one who presented her with an Elephant, and that with Glory too, to have been valued at so high a rate. Phaedon the Philosopher, a Man of Birth, after the taking of his Country Elida, made it his trade to prostitute the beauty of his youth, so long as it lasted, to any one that would, for Money, thereby to gain his Living. And Solon was the first in Greece, 'tis said, who by his Laws gave Liberty to Women, at the expense of their Chastity, to provide for the Necessities of Life; a Custom that Herodotus says had been received in many Governments before his time. And besides, what Fruit is there of this painful Solitude? For what Justice soever there is in this Passion, we are yet to consider whether it turns to account, or no. Does any one think to curb it by his Industry? 


Juven. Sat. 6.  Pone Seram, cohibe: sed quis custodiet ipsos  
Custodes? cauta est, & ab illis incipit uxor.   

Hang on a Lock, I hear old Friends advise,  

Sir Robert Stapleton.  Appoint a Guard, but who shall watch the Spies?  
Her Art first draws them in.   What Conveniency will not serve their turn in so knowing an Age? Curiosity is vicious throughout; but 'tis pernicious here. 'Tis Folly to examine into a Disease for which there is no Physic that does not inflame and make it worse; of which the shame grows still greater, and more public by Jealousy, and of which the Revenge more wounds our Prosperity, than it heals us. You whither and die in the search of so obscure a proof. How miserably have they of my time arrived at that knowledge, who have been so unhappy as to have found it out? If the Informer does not at the same time apply a Remedy, and bring relief; 'tis an injurious Information, and that better deserves a stab than the Lie: We no less laugh at him who takes pains to prevent it, than he who is a Cuckold, and knows it not. The Character of Cuckold is indelible, who once has it carries it to his grave; the Punishment proclaims it more than the Fault. It is to much purpose to see, to draw the Curtain, and to lift up the Quilt to discover our private Misfortunes, thence to expose them on Tragic Scaffolds; and Misfortunes that only hurt us by being known; for a good Wife, or a happy Marriage, is said, not that they are really so, but because no one says to the contrary. Men should be so discreet, as to evade this tormenting and unprofitable knowledge: and the Romans had a Custom, when returning from any Expedition, to send home before to acquaint their Wives with their coming, that they might not surprise them; and to this purpose it is, that a certain Nation has introduced a custom, that the Priest shall on the Wedding day unlock the Bride's Cabinet, to free the Husband from the doubt and Curiosity of examaning in the first assault, whether she comes a Virgin to his Bed, or that she has been at the Trade before. But the World will be talking. I know a hundred honest men Cuckolds, that are handsomely, and not very indecently so; a worthy man is lamented, but not disesteemed for it. Order it so that your Virtue may conquer your Misfortune, that good Men may curse the Occasion, and that he who wrongs you may tremble but to think on't. And moreover, who escapes being talked of at the same rate, from the least even to the greatest? 

— tot qui legionibus imperitavit, 
Lucret. l. 3.   
Et melior quam tumultis fuit, improbe, rebus.   

To whom so many Legions did bow,  
And who by much was better far than thou.   You hear how many honest men are reproached with this in your presence, and you may believe that you are no more spared behind your Back. Nay, the very Ladies will be laughing too; and what are they so apt to laugh at in this virtuous Age of ours, as at a peaceable and well-composed marriage? There is not one amongst you but has made some body Cuckold: and Nature runs much in parallel, in compensation, and turn for turn. The frequency of this accident ought long since to have made it easy; and 'tis now past into Custom. Miserable Passion, which has this also, that it is incommunicable. 


Catullus.  for'rs etiam nostris invidit questibus Aures.   

And spiteful Fortune too denies  
An Ear to our Calamities.   For to what Friend dare you intrust your Griefs; who, if he does not laugh at them, will not make use of the occasion to get a share of the Quarry? The sharps▪ as well as the sweets of Marriage, are kept secret by the wise; and amongst other troublesome Conditions appertaining to it, this, to a prating Fellow, as I am, is one of the chief, that custom has rendered it indecent and prejudicial, to commmunicate to any one all that a man knows, and all that a man feels. To give even Women counsel against Jealousy, would be so much time lost, their very Being is so made up of Suspicion, Vanity, and Curiosity, that to cure them by any lawful ways, is not to be hoped or expected. They often recover of this Infirmity, by a form of Health much more to be feared than the Disease itself. For as there are Enchantments that cannot take away the Evil, but by throwing it upon another, they also willingly transfer this Fever to their Husbands, when they shake it off themselves. And yet I know not, to speak truth, whether a man can suffer worse from them than their Jealousy; 'tis the most dangerous of all their Conditions, as the Head is of all their Members. Pittacus was used to say, that every one had his defect, and that his was the jealous Head of his Wife; but for which he should think himself perfectly happy. A mighty inconvenience sure which could poison the whole Life of so just, so wise, and so valiant a man; What must we other little Fellows do? The Senate of Marselles had reason to grant him that begged leave to kill himself, that he might be delivered from the Clamour of his Wife, his request; for 'tis a mischief that is never removed, but that it carries away the piece; and that has no Remedy but Flight or Patience, though both of them very hard. He was doubtless an understanding Fellow that said, there was no happy Marriage but betwixt a blind Wife and a deaf Husband. Let us also consider whether the great and violent Severity of Obligation we enjoin them, does not produce two effects contrary to our design, namely, whether it does not render the Pursuants more eager to attaque, and the Women more easy to yield. For as to the first, by raising the value of the Place, we raise the value and the desire of the Conquest. Might it not be Venus herself, who so cunningly enhanced the price of her Merchandise, by making the Laws her Bawds; knowing how insipid a delight it would be that was not heightened by Fancy and hardness to achieve? To conclude, 'tis all Swines-flesh, varied by Sauces, as said Flaminius his Host. Cupid is a roguish God, who makes it his sport to contend with Devotion and Justice: 'Tis his Glory that his Power mates all other Powers, and all other Rules give place to his.  


Ovid Trist. lib. 4. El. 1.  Materiam Culpae prosequiturque suae.   

And seeks out Matter for his Crimes.   
As to the second point; should we not be less Cuckolds, if we less feared to be so? according to the Humour of Women: whom Interdiction incites, and who are more eager for being forbid. 


Teren. Eunu. Act. 4. Sc. 7.  Vbi velis nolunt, ubi nolis volunt ultro,  
Concessa pudet ire via.—   

You would, they won't, when you would not, they would,  
Consent does freeze, denial fires their Blood.   What better Interpretation can we make of Messalina's Behaviour? She at first made her Husband a Cuckold in private, as is the common use: but, bringing her Business about with too much ease, by reason of her Husband's Stupidity; she soon scorned that way, and presently fell to making open love, to own her Servants, and to favour and entertain them in the sight of all.▪ She would make him know and see how she used him. This Animal, not to be roused with all this, and rendering her Pleasures dull and flat by his too stupid Facility, by which he seemed to authorise, and make them lawful; what does she? but being the Wife of a living and healthful Emperor, and at Rome, the Theatre of the World, in the face of the Sun, and with solemn Ceremony, and to Silius, who had long before enjoyed her, she publicly marries herself one day that her Husband was gone out of the City. Does it not seem as if she was going to become Chaste by her Husband's negligence? or that she sought another Husband that might sharpen her appetite by his jealousy, and who by watching should incite her? But the first difficulty she met with was also the last; this Beast suddenly roused. These stupid sort of Men are oft the most dangerous. I have found by Experience, that this extreme Toleration, when it comes to dissolve, produces the most severe Revenge; for taking fire on a sudden, Anger and Fury being combined in one, discharge their utmost force at the first charge. 
Aeneid. lib. 12.  Irarumque omnes effundit habenas. He put her to death, and with her a great number of those with whom she had had Intelligence, even those who could not help it, and whom she had caused to be forced to her Bed with Scourges. What Virgil says of Venus and Vulcan, Lucretius had better expressed of a stolen Enjoyment betwixt her and Mars. 


Lucret. lib. 1. — bellifera maenera Mavors  
Armipotens regit, in gremium qui saepe tuum se  
Rejicit, aeterno devinctus Vulnere amoris:  
Pascit amore avidos inhians in te Dea visus,  
Eque tuo pendet resupini spiritus oars:  
Hunc tu Diva tuo recubantem corpore sancto  
Circumfusa super, suaveis ex ore loquelas  
Funde.   


Mr. Creech. — For furious Mars,  
The only Governor, and God of Wars,  
Tired with heat and toil, doth oft resort  
To taste the Pleasures of the Paphian Court;  
Where on thy Bosom he supinely lies,  
And greedily drinks Love at both his eyes,  
Till quite overcome, snatching an eager Kiss,  
He hastily goes on to greater bliss:  
Then midst his strict embraces clasp thine arms  
About his Neck, and call forth all thy charms▪  
Careless, with all thy subtle arts become  
A Flatterer, and beg a Peace for Rome.   When I consider this rejicit, pascit, inhians, molli, fovet, medullas, labefacta, pendet, percurrit, and that noble circumfusa, mother of the gentle infusus; I contemn those little Quibbles and verbal Allusions have been since in use. Those well-meaning People stood in need of no subtlety to disguise their meaning; their Language is downright and plain, and full of natural and continued Vigour; they are all Epigram, not only with a sting in the tail, but the head, body, and feet, carry the same force throughout. There is nothing forced, nothing languishing, but they still keep the same pace. Contextus totus virilis est, 
Sen. Ep. 33.  non sunt circa flosculos occupati. The whole contexture is manly, without insisting upon little flowers of Rhetoric. 'Tis not a soft Eloquence, and without offence only, 'tis nervous and solid, that does not so much please, as it fits and ravishes the greatest minds. When I see these brave methods of expression, so lively, so profound, I do not say that 'tis well said, but well thought. 'Tis the spriteliness of the imagination that swells and elevates words. Pectus est quod disertum facit. 
Quintil. lib. 10.  Our People call Language Judgement, and fine words full Conceptions. This painting is not so much carried on by dexterity of hand, as by having the object more lively imprinted in the Soul: Gallus speaks simply, because he conceives simply: Horace does not content himself with a superficial expression that would betray him; he sees farther and more clearly into things, his Wit breaks into, and rummages all the magazine of words and figures wherewith to express himself, and he must have them above ordinary, because his Conception is so. Plutarch says, that he sees the Latin Tongue by the things. 'Tis here the same: the Sense illuminates, and produces the words: no more words of air, but of flesh and bone; they signify more than they express. Moreover, those who are not well skilled in a Language, perceive some image of this; for in Italy, I said whatever I had a mind to in common discourse, but in more serious subjects, I durst not have trusted myself with an Idiom that I could not wind and turn out of its ordinary pace; I would therein have a power of introducing something of my own. The handling and utterance of fine Wits is that which sets off a Language; not so much by innovating it, as by putting it to more vigorous and various service, and by straining, bending, and adapting it to them. They do not create words, but they every their own, and give them weight and signification by the Uses they put them to, and teach them unwonted motions, but withal, ingeniously and discreetly. And how little this talon is given to all, is manifest by the many French Scribblers of this Age. They are bold, and proud enough not to follow the common road, but want of Invention and discretion ruins them. There is nothing seen in their Writings but a wretched affectation of a strange new style, with cold and absurd disguises, which, instead of elevating, depress the matter. Provided they can but trick up their style with fine new words, they care not what they signify; and to bring in a new word by the head and shoulders, they leave the old one, very often more sinewy and significant than the other. There is stuff enough in our Language, but there is a defect in cutting out. For there is nothing that might not be made out of our terms of Hunting and War, which is a fruitful Soil to borrow from. And the forms of speaking, like Herbs, improve and grow stronger by being transplanted. I find it sufficiently abounding, but not sufficiently pliable and vigorous. It quails under a powerful Conception. If you would maintain the dignity of your style, you will oft perceive it to flag and languish under you, and there Latin steps in to its relief, as Greek does to other Languages. Of some of the words I have picked out for my own use, we do not easily discern the energy, by reason that the frequent use of them have in some sort embased their beauty, and rendered it common. As in our ordinary Language there are several excellent Phrases and Metaphors to be met with, of which the beauty is withered by age, and the colour is sullied by too common handling; but that takes nothing from the relish to an understanding man: neither does it derogate from the glory of those ancient Authors, who, 'tis likely, first brought those words into that lustre. The Sciences treat of things too finely, and after an artificial, very different from the common and natural way. My Page makes love, and understands it, but read to him Leo Hebreus and Ficinus, where they speak of him, his thoughts and actions, he understands it not. I do not find in Aristotle most of my ordinary motions; they are there covered, and disguised in another robe for the use of the Schools. Well may they speed; but were I of the Trade, I would as much naturalise Art, as they artifie Nature. Let us let Bembo and Equicola alone. When I write, I can very well spare both the Company and the remembrance of ●ooks, lest they should interrupt my Method. And also in truth the best Authors too much humble and discourage me. I am very much of the Painter's Mind, who having represented Cocks most wretchedly ill, charged all his Boys not to suffer any natural Cock to come into his Shop; and had rather need to give myself a little lustre of the Invention of Antinonnydes the Musician, who, when he was to sing or play, took care before hand that the Auditory should, either before or after, be entertained and glutted with some other ill Musicians. But I can hardly be without a Plutarch, he is so universal, and so full, that upon all Occasions, and what extravagant Subject soever you take in hand, he will still intrude himself into your Business, and holds out to you a liberal, and not to be exhausted hand of Riches and Embellishments. It vexes me that he is so exposed to the spoil of those who are conversant with him. I can no sooner cast an Eye upon him, but I purloyn either a Leg or a Wing. And also for this Design of mine, 'tis convenient for me to write at home, in a wild Country, where I have no body to assist or relieve me; where I hardly see a man that understands the Latin of his Pater Noster, and of French as little, if not less. I might have made it better elsewhere, but then the work would have been less my own; and its principal end and perfection is to be exactly mine: I should well enough correct an accidental Error, of which I am full, as I run carelessly on: but for any ordinary and constant Imperfections, it were a kind of Treason to put them out. When another tells, or that I say to myself, Thou art too thick of Figures; this is a word of the Gascon growth, and therefore a dangerous Phrase; (I do not reject any of those that are used in the common Streets of France, they that will fight Custom with Grammar, are Fools) this is an ignorant Discourse; this is a Paradoxical saying, this is a foolish Expression. Thou mak'st thyself merry sometimes; and men will think thou sayest a thing in good earnest, which thou only speakest in jest. Yes, say I, but I correct the Faults of Inadvertence, not those of Custom. Do I not talk at the same rate throughout? Do I not represent myself to the Life? 'Tis enough that I have done what I designed; all the World knows me in my Book, and my Book in me. Now I have an apish imitating Quality; when I used to write Verses, (and I never made any but Latin) they evidently accused the Poet I had last read; and some of my first Essays have a little exotic taste. I speak something another kind of Language at Paris than I do at Montaigne. Whoever I steadfastly look upon, easily leaves some impression of his upon me. Whatever I consider, I usurp; whether a foolish Countenance, a disagreeable look, or a ridiculous way of speaking; and Vices most of all, because they seize and stick to me, and will not leave hold without shaking off. I swear more by Imitation than Humour. A murdering imitation, like that of the Apes, so terrible both in stature and strength, that Alexander met with in a certain Country of the Indies, which he would have had much ado any other way to have subdued. But they afforded him the means by that Inclination of theirs to imitate whatever they saw done. For by that the Hunters were taught to put on Shoes in their sight, and to tie them fast with many knots, and to muffle up their Heads in Caps all composed of running nooses, and to seem to anoint their Eyes with Glue; so did those silly Creatures employ their Imitation to their own ruin, they glued up their own Eyes, haltred and bound themselves. The other faculty of playing the Mimics, and ingeniously acting the Words and Gestures of another, purposely to make others merry, and to raise their Admiration, is no more in me than in a Stock. When I swear my own Oath, 'tis only by God, of all Oaths the most direct. They say that Socrates swore by the Dog, Zeno had for his Oath the same Interjection, at this time in use amongst the Italians Cappari: Pythagoras swore by Water and Air. I am so apt, without thinking of it, to receive these superficial Impressions, that if I have Majesty or Highness in my Mouth three days together, they come out instead of Excellency and Lordship, eight days after; and what I say to day in sport and fooling, I shall seriously say the same to morrow. Wherefore, in writing, I more unwillingly undertake beaten Arguments, lest I should handle them at another's expense. Every Subject is equally fertile to me. A Fly will serve me for a Subject, and 'tis well if this I have in hand has not been undertaken at the Recommendation of as wanton a Will. I may begin with that which pleases me best, for the Subjects are all linked to one another; but my Soul displeases me, in that it ordinarily produces its deepest and most airy conceits which please me best, when I least expect or study for them; and suddenly vanish, having at the instant nothing to apply them to; on Horseback, at the Table, and in Bed: but most on Horseback, where I am most given to think. My speaking is a little nicely jealous of Silence and Attention, if I talk my best. Who interrupts me, cuts me off. In travelling, the Necessity of the way will often put a stop to Discourse; besides that, I for the most part travel without Company, fit to entertain long Discourses, by which means I have all the leisure I would to entertain myself. It falls out as it does in my Dreams, whilst dreaming, I recommend them to my Memory, (for I am apt to dream that I dream) but the next Morning I may represent to myself of what Complexion they were, whether gay, or sad, or strange, but what they were, as to the rest, the more I endeavour to retrieve them, the deeper I plunge them in oblivion. So of Thoughts that come accidentally into my Head, I have no more but a vain Image remaining in my Memory, only enough to make me torment myself in their quest to no purpose. Well then, laying Books aside, and more simply and materially speaking, I find after all, 
Definition of Love.  that Love is nothing else but the thirst of enjoying the subject desired; neither is Venus any other thing than the pleasure of discharging the Vessels, as the Pleasure Nature gives us of discharging other Parts, that either by immoderation or indiscretion become vicious. According to Socrates, Love is the Appetite of Generation, by the mediation of Beauty. And having often considered the ridiculous titillation of this Pleasure, the absurd, hare-brained, and senseless motions with which it inspires Zeno and Cratippus; the indiscreet rage, and the Countenance inflamed with Fury and Cruelty in the sweetest effects of Love: and then that sour, grave, severe, and extatick one i● so wanton an Action, that our Delights and our Excrements are promiscuously shuffled together, and that the supreme Pleasure carries along with it fainting and complaining, as well as Grief; I then believe it to be true that Plato says, that the Gods made man for their Sport: 

— quaenam ista jocandi 
Claudian.   
Saevitia?—   

What a strange sporting Cruelty  
May this be said to be?   and that it is in mockery, that Nature has ordered the most troublesome of Actions to be the most common, by that to make us equal, and to parallel Fools and wise Men, Beasts and us. Even the most contemplative and prudent man, when I imagine him in this posture, I hold him an impudent Fellow to pretend to be prudent and contemplative. They are the Peacock's Feet that abate his pride. 

— ridentem dicere verum 
Hora. lib. 1. Sat. 1.   
Quid vetat?—   

One may speak Truth in jest without Offence.   They who banish serious imaginations from their sports, do, says one, like him who dares not adore the Statue of a Saint, if not covered with a Veil. We eat and drink indeed as Beasts do; but those are not actions that obstruct the functions of the Soul. In those we maintain our advantage over them; but this subjects all other thought, and by its imperious authority makes an Ass of all Plato's Divinity and Philosophy too, and yet he complains not of it. In every thing else a man may keep some Decorum, all other Operations submit to the Rules of Decency; this cannot so much as in imagination appear other than vicious or ridiculous. Examine if you can therein find one wise and discreet proceeding. Alexander said, that he chiefly knew himself to be mortal by this act and sleeping; sleep suffocates and suppresses the Faculties of the Soul; the familiarity with Women does likewise dissipate and exhaust them. Doubtless 'tis a mark, not only of our original corruption, but also of our vanity and deformity. On the one side, Nature bushes us on to it, having fixed the most noble, utile, and pleasant of all her functions to this desire: and on the other side, leaves us to accuse and avoid it, as insolent and indecent, to blush at it, and to recommend abstinence. Are we not sufficiently Brutes, to call that work brutish which begets us? People of so many differing Religions have concurred in several Ceremonies, as Sacrifices, Lamps, burning Incense, Fasts, and Offerings; and amongst other, in the condemning this Act: All Opinions concentre in this, besides the old custom of Circumcisions. We have peradventure reason to blame ourselves for being guilty of so foolish a Production as man, and to call the Act and Parts shameful that are employed in the work (I am sure mine are now properly shameful.) The Essenians, of whom Pliny speaks, kept up their Country several Ages without either Nurse or Baby-clouts, by the arrival of Strangers, who following this pretty humour, came continually in to them: A whole Nation being resolute, rather to hazard a total Extermination, than to engage themselves in Female embraces, and rather to lose the succession of men than to beget one. 'Tis said, that Zeno never had to do with a Woman but once in his life, and then out of civility, that he might not seem too obstinately to disdain the Sex. Every one avoids seeing a man born, every one runs to see him die. To destroy a spacious Field is sought out, and in the face of the Sun; but to make him we creep into as dark and private a corner as we can. 'Tis a man's duty to withdraw himself from the light to do it; but 'tis glory, and the fountain of many Virtues to know how to destroy what we have done: the one is injury, the other favour: for Aristotle says, that do any one a Courtesy, in a certain Phrase of his Country, is to kill him. The Athenians, to couple the disgrace of these two Actions, being to purge the Isle of Delos, and to justify themselves to Apollo, interdicted at once all Birth and Burials in the Precincts thereof. Nostri nosmet poenitet. 
Terence.  We are ashamed of ourselves. There are some Nations that will not be seen to eat. I know a Lady, and of the best Quality, who has the same opinion, that 'tis an ill sight to see one chew their meat, that takes away much from their Grace and Beauty, and therefore unwillingly appears at a public Table with an Appetite; and know a man also, that cannot endure to see another eat, nor be seen himself; and is more shy of company in putting in than putting out. In the Turkish Empire, there are a great number of men, who, to excel others, never suffer themselves to be seen when they make their repast; who never have any more than one a Week, who cut and mangle their Faces and Limbs, and never speak to any one: Fanatic People, who think to honour their Nature by denaturing themselves; that value themselves upon their contempt of themselves, and grow better by being worse: What monstrous Animal is this, that is a Horror to himself, to whom his delights are grievous, and who weds himself to misfortunes? There are who conceal their Life, 


Virg. Georg. lib. 2.  Exilioque domos, & dulcia limina mutant,   

Some banished, do their native seats exchange,  

Mr. Ogilby.  And Countries under other Climates range.   and withdraw them from the sight of other men's, that avoid Health and Cheerfulness, as dangerous and prejudicial Qualities. Not only many Sects, but many People, curse their Birth, and bless their Death; and there is a Place where the Sun is abominated, and darkness adored. We are only ingenious in using ourselves ill; 'tis the only quarry our, Wits fly at; and Wit, when misapplyed, is a dangerous tool. 

O miseri quorum gaudia crimen habent! 
Gallus Eleg. 1.    

O wretched men whose Pleasures are a Crime!   Alas, poor man, thou hast inconveniencies that are inevitable enough without increasing them by thine own invention, and art miserable enough by Nature, without being so by Art; thou hast real and essential Deformities enough, without forging those that are imaginary. Dost thou find that thou hast not performed all the necessary Offices that Nature has enjoined thee, and that she is idle in thee; if thou dost not oblige thyself to more and new? Thou dost not stick to infringe the universal and undoubted Laws; but stickest close to those confederate and fantastic ones of thy own, and by how much more particular, uncertain, and contradicted they are, by so much thou employ'st thy whole endeavour in them: The Laws of thy Parish bind thee; those of the World concern thee not: run but a little over the Examples of this kind, thy Life is full of them. Whilst the Verses of these two Poets treat so reservedly and discreetly of wantonness, as they do, methinks, they discover it much more. Ladies cover their Necks with Network, as Priests do several sacred things, and Painters shadow their Pictures to give them greater lustre: and, 'tis said, that the Sun and Wind strike more violently by Reflection than in a direct Line. The Egyptian wisely answered him who asked him what he had under his Cloak; it is hid under my Cloak, said he, that thou mayst not know what it is: but there are certain other things that People hide only to show them: Hear this that speaks plainer, 


Ovid Am. lib. 1. El. 5.  Et nudam pressi corpus adusque meum.   

And in these naked Arms of mine,  
Her naked Body I did twine.   methinks, I am eunuched with the Expression. Let Martial turn up Venus' Coats as high as he can, he cannot show her so naked: He, who says all that is to be said, gluts and disgusts us: He, who is afraid to express himself, draws us on to guests at more than is meant. There is a kind of treachery in this sort of Modesty, and specially whilst they half open, as they do, so fair a path to Imagination, both the action and description should relish theft. The more respective, more timorous, more coy, and secret Love of the Spaniards and Italians please me. I know not who of old wished his weasand as long as that of a Crane, that he might the longer taste what he swallowed: it had been better wished in this quick and precipitous Pleasure, especially in such natures as mine, that had the fault of being too prompt. To stop its flight, and delay it with preambles, all things, a Wink, a Bow, a Word, a Sign, stand for favour and recompense betwixt them. Were it not an excellent piece of Thrift in him that could dine on the steam of the roast? 'Tis a Passion that mixes very little with solid Essence, much more with vanity and feverish raving, and we are to reward and pay it accordingly. Let us teach the Ladies to value and esteem themselves, to amuse and fool us, We give the last Charge at the first Onset, the French impetuosity will still show itself. By spinning out their favours, and exposing them in small parcels, even miserable old Age itself will find some little share of reward, according to its worth and merit; who has no fruition but in fruition, who wins nothing unless he sweeps the stakes: and who takes no pleasure in the chase but in the quarry, ought not to introduce himself in our School. The more steps and greices there are, so much higher and more honourable is the uppermost Seat. We should take a pleasure in being conducted to it, as in magnificent Palaces, by Porticoes, Entries, long and pleasant Galleries, by many turns and windings. This disposition of things would turn to our advantage; we should there longer stay, and longer love; without hope, and without desire we proceed not worth a pin: Our Conquest and entire possession is what they ought infinitely to dread: when they wholly surrender themselves up to the mercy of our Fidelity and Constancy, they run a mighty hazard; they are Virtues very rare, and hard to be found, they are no sooner ours, but we are no more theirs. 


Catullus.  Postquam cupidae mentis satiata libido est,  
Verba nihil metuere, nihil perjuria curant.   

When our Desires and Lusts once sated are,  
For Oaths and Promises we little care.   And Thrasonides, a young man of Greece, was so in love with his Passion, that having gained a Mistress' consent, he refused to enjoy her, that he might not by fruition quench and stupefy the unquiet ardour of which he was so proud, and with which he so pleased himself. Dearness is a good Sauce to Meat. Do but observe how much the manner of Salutation, particular to our Nation, has by its facility made Kisses, which Socrates says so powerful and dangerous for the stealing of Hearts, of no esteem. It is a nauseous and injurious Custom for the Ladies, that they must be obliged to lend their Lips to every Fellow that has three Footmen at his heels, how nasty or deformed soever: 


Mart. lib. 7. Epig. 94.  Cujus livida naribus caninis,  
Dependet glacies, rigetque barba:  
Centum occurrere malo culilingis.   And we do not get much by the bargain; for as the World is divided, for three beautiful Women we must kiss threescore ugly ones; and to a tender Stomach, like those of my Age, an ill kiss over pays a good one. In Italy they passionately court, even their common Women, who prostitute themselves for money, and justify the doing so, by saying, that there are degrees of fruition, and that by their Services they will procure themselves that which is best and most entire. They sell nothing but their Bodies, the Will is too free, and too much its own to be exposed to sale; so say these, that 'tis the Will they undertake, and they have reason; 'Tis indeed the Will that we are to serve, and have to do withal. I abhor to imagine mine in a Body without Affection. And this madness is, methinks, Cousin-German to that of the Boy, who would needs lie with the beautiful Statue of Venus, made by Praxiteles; or that of the furious Egyptian, who violated the dead Carcase of a Woman he was embalming: which was the occasion of the Law afterwards made in Egypt, 
The Corpse of beautiful Women kept three days in Egypt before they were interred.  that the Corpse of beautiful young Women, of those of good Quality, should be kept three days, before they should be delivered to those whose Office it was to take care for the Interment. Periander did more wonderfully, who extended his conjugal Affection (more regular and legitimate) to the enjoyment of his Wife Melissa after she was dead. Does it not seem a Lunatic humour in the Moon, seeing she could no otherwise enjoy her Darling Endymion, to lay him for several Months asleep, and to please herself with the fruition of a Boy, who stirred not but in his sleep? I likewise say, that we love a Body without a Soul, when we love a Body without its consent and concurring desire. All Enjoyments are not alike: There are some that are Hectic and languishing: a thousand other causes besides good Will may procure us this Favour from the Ladies: this is not a sufficient testimony of Affection: Treachery may lurk there as well as elsewhere: they sometimes go to't but by halves. 


Id. lib. 11. Epig. 61.  tanquam thura merumque parent  
absentem marmoreamve putes.   

So coldly they unto the work prepare,  
You'd think them absent, or else marble were.   I know some, who had rather lend that than their Coach, and who only impart themselves that way: You are to examine whether your company pleases them upon any other account, or like some strong chined Groom, for that only, and in what degree of favour you are with them. 

— tibi si datur uni  

Catullus.  Quo lapide illa diem candidiore notet.   

Whether thy Mistress favour thee alone,  
And mark thy day out with the whiter stone.   What if they eat your Bread with the sauce of a more pleasing imagination? 


Tibullus.  Te tenet, absentes alios suspirat amores.   

She kindly strains thee in her Arms, but has  
Her thoughts the while fixed in another place.   What? have we not seen one in these days of ours, that made use of this Act upon the account of a most horrid Revenge, by that means to kill, and poison, as he did, a beautiful Woman? Such as know Italy, will not think it strange, if for this Subject, I seek not elsewhere for Examples: for that Nation may be called the Regent of the world in this: They have generally more handsome, and fewer ugly women than we: but for rare and excelling Beauties we have as many as they. I think the same of their Wits; of those of the common sort they have many, and evidently more. Brutality is without comparison much rarer there; but in singular Souls, and those of the highest Form, we are nothing indebted to them. If I should carry on the comparison, I might say, as touching Valour, that, on the contrary it is, to what it is with them, common, and natural with us: but sometimes we see them possessed to such a degree as surpasses the most steady and obstinate Examples we can produce. The Marriages of that Country are defective in this; Their Custom commonly imposes so rude, and so slavish a Law upon the Women, that the most remote Acquaintance with a Stranger rendered necessarily substantial; and seeing that all comes to one account, they have no hard choice to make. And have they broken down the Fence? We may safely presume they have, Luxuria ipsis vinculis, sicut fera bestia, irritata, deinde emissa. Lust like a wild Beast, being more enraged by being bound, breaks from his Chains with greater wildness. They must give them a little more Rein; 


Ovid. Am. l. 3. Eleg. 4.  Vidi ego nuper equum contra sua Fraena tenacem  
o'er reluctanti fluminis ire modo.   

I saw, spite of his Bit, a headstrong Colt  
Run with his Rider, like a Thunderbolt.   The desire of Company is allayed by giving a little Liberty. 'Tis a good Custom we have in France, that our Sons are received into the best Families, there to be entertained and bred up Pages, as in a School of Nobless. And 'tis looked upon as a discourtesy, and an affront to refuse a Gentleman. I have taken notice (for so many Families so many differing forms) that the Ladies who have been strictest with their Maids, have had no better luck than those who allowed them a greater Liberty. There should be Moderation in all things, one must leave a great deal of their Conduct to their own Discretion; for, when all comes to all, no Discipline can curb them throughout. But it is true withal, that she who comes off with flying Colours from a School of Liberty, brings with her whereon to repose more Confidence, than she who comes away sound from a severe and strict Education. Our Fathers dressed up their Daughter's looks in Bashfulness and Fear, we ours in Confidence and Assurance. We understand nothing of the Matter. We must leave it to the Sarmates, that are not to lie with a Man, till with their own hands they have first killed another in Battle. For me, who have no other title left me to these things, but by the cares; 'tis sufficient, if according to the Privilege of my Age, they retain me for one of their Counsel. I do then advise them, and us men too, to Abstinence; but if the Age we live in will not endure it, at least Modesty and Discretion. For as the Story of Aristippus says, speaking to two young men, who blushed to see him go into a scandalous House; the Vice is in not coming out, not in going in. Let her that has no care of her Conscience, have yet some regard to her Reputation; and tho' she be rotten within, let her carry a fair outside at least. I commend a Gradation, and the deferring of time in bestowing of their Favours. Plato declares, that in all sorts of Love, Facility and Promptness are forbidden the Defendant. 'Tis a sign of eagerness, so rashly, suddenly, and hand over head wholly to surrender themselves, which they ought to disguise with all the art they have. In carrying themselves modestly and unwillingly in the granting their last Favours, they much more allure our desires, and hide their own. Let them still fly before us, even those who have most mind to be overtaken. They better conquer us by flying, as the Scythians do. To say the truth, according to the law that Nature has imposed upon them, it is not properly for them either to will, or desire; their part is to suffer, obey, and consent: and for this it is that Nature has given them a perpetual Capacity, which in us is but sometimes, and incertain; they are always fit for the encounter, that they may be always ready when we are so. 
Seneca in Epist.  Patinatae. And whereas she has ordered that our Appetites shall be manifest by a prominent Demonstration, she would have theirs to be hidden and concealed within; and has furnished them with Parts improper for Ostentation, and simply defensive. Such Proceedings as this that follows, must be left to the Amazonian Licence. 
Alexander and Thalestris.  Alexander marching his Army through Hyrcania, Thalestris Queen of the Amazons, came with three hundred light Horse of her own Sex, well mounted and armed, having left the remainder of a very great Army that followed her behind the neighbouring Mountains, to give him a Visit; where she publicly allowed, and in plain terms told him, that the Fame of his Valour and Victories had brought her thither to see him, and to make him an Offer of her Forces to assist him in the pursuit of his Erterprises: and that finding him so handsome, young, and vigorous, she, who was also perfect in all those qualities, advised that they might lie together; to the end, that from the most valiant Woman of the World, and the bravest man then living, there might spring some great and wonderful Issue for the time to come. Alexander returned her thanks for all the rest; but to give leisure for the accomplishment of her last demand, he detained her thirteen days in that place, which were spent in Royal Feasting and Jollity, for the welcome of so noble a Princess. We are almost throughout incompetent and unjust Judges of their Actions, as they are of ours. I confess the truth when it makes against me, as well as when 'tis on my side. 'Tis an abominable intemperance that bushes them on so often to change, and that hinders them to limit their Affection to any one Person whatever; as is evident in that Goddess, to whom are attributed so many changes, and so many several Enamorato's. But 'tis true withal, that 'tis contrary to the nature of Love, if it be not violent, and contrary to the nature of Violence if it be constant. And they who make it a wonder, exclaim, and keep such a clutter to find out the causes of this Frailty of theirs, as unnatural, and not to be believed; how comes it to pass they do not discern how often they are themselves guilty of the same, without any Astonishment or Miracle at all? It would peradventure be more strange to see the Passion fixed. 'Tis not a simply corporeal Passion. 
Affections of Women subject to change.  If there be no end in Avarice and Ambition, there is doubtless no more in Desire; It still lives after Satiety, and 'tis impossible to prescribe either constant Satisfaction, or end; it ever goes beyond its possession: and by that means Inconstancy peradventure is in some sort more pardonable in them than in us. 
Inconstancy pardonable in Women.  They may plead as well as we the inclination to Variety and Novelty, common to us both. And secondly, without us, that they buy a Pig in a poak. Joan Queen of Naples, 
Andreosse hanged by his Wife Joan Queen of Naples, for not being sufficiently furnished.  caused her first Husband Andreosse to be hanged at the Barrs of her Window in a Halter of Gold and Silk, woven with her own Hand, because that in Matrimonial performances, she neither found his Parts nor Abilities answer the Expectation she had conceived from his Stature, Beauty, Youth, and Activity, by which she had been caught and deceived. There is more pains required in doing than in suffering; and so they are on their part always at least provided for Necessity, whereas on our part it may fall out otherwise. For this Reason it was that Plato wisely made a Law, 
Men stripped naked before Marriage.  that before Marriage, to determine of the fitness of the Persons, the Judges should see the young Men who pretended to it, stripped stark naked, and the Women but to the Girdle only. When they come to try us, they do not perhaps think us worthy of their choice. 

Experta latus medidoque simillima loro  

Mart. l. 7. Epig. 57  Inguina, nec lassa stare coacta manu,  
Deserit imbelles thalamos—   

'Tis not enough that a man's Will be good,  
Weakness and Insufficiency lawfully break a Marriage:   

Et quaerendum aliunde foret nervosius illud,  

Catullus.  Quod posset Zonam solvere virgineam.   why not, and according to her own scantling, and amorous intelligence, more bold and active? 

Si blando nequeat superesse labori. 
Virg. Georg. lib. 3.    

If strength they want Love's task to undergo.   But is it not a great Impudence to offer our Imperfections and imbecilities, 
Old men's Love feeble and imperfect.  where we desire to please, and leave a good Opinion and Esteem of ourselves? For the little that I am able to do now, 

— ad unum 
Horace. Epod. 17.   
Mollis opus—   

One 'bout a Night.   I would not trouble a Woman, that I am to reverence and fear. 

— fuge suspicari, 
Hor. lib. 2. Ode 4.   
Cujus undenum trepidavit aetas  
claudare lustrum   

suspect not him, 
Sir Richard Fanshaw.   
One whose Love's Wildfire Age doth throw  
its cooling Snow.   Nature should satisfy herself in having rendered Age miserable, without rendering it ridiculous too. I hate to see it, for one poor inch of pitiful Vigour, which comes upon it but thrice a Week, to strut, and set out itself with as much eagerness as if it could do mighty feats, a true flame of Flax; and wonder to see it so boil and bubble, at a time when it is so congealed and extinguished. This Appetite ought not to appertain to any thing but the flower of beautiful Youth. Trust not to it, because you see it seconds that indefatigable, full, constant, and magnanimous ardour that is in you, for it will certainly leave you in the lurch at your greatest need; but rather return it to some tender, bashful, and ignorant Boy, who yet trembles at the Rod, and blushes, 


Aeneid. lib. 12.  Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro  
Si quis ebur, vel mista rubent ubi lilia multa  
Alba rosa—   

So Indian Ivory streaked with Crimson shows,  
Or Lilies white mixed with the Damask Rose.   who can stay till the Morning without dying for shame to behold the disdain of the fair Eyes of her who knows so well his fumbling impertinence; 


Ovid Amo. l. 1. Eleg. 7.  Et taciti fecere tamen convitia vultus,   

and though she nothing say,  
How ill she likes my work, her looks betray.   he never had the satisfaction and the glory of having cudgeled them till they were weary, with the vigorous performance of one heroic Night. When I have observed any one to be troubled with me, I have presently accused her Levity; but have been in doubt, if I had not reason rather to complain of Nature, she has doubtless used me very uncivilly, and unkindly, 
Si non longa satis, si non bene mentula crassa:  
Nimirum sapiunt videntque parvam 
Martial.   
Matronae quoque mentulam illibenter.  and done me a most irreparable injury. Every Member I have, as much one as another, is equally my own, and no other does more properly make me a man than this. I universally owe my entire Picture to the public. The Wisdom of my Instruction wholly consists in Liberty, and naked Truth; disdaining to introduce these little, feigned, common, and provincial Rules, into the Catalogue of its real Duties, all natural, general, and constant; of which Civility and Ceremony are Daughters indeed, but illegitimate. We are sure to have the Vices of Appearance when we shall have had those of Essence. When we have done with these, we run full drive upon others, if we find it must be so. For there is danger that we shall fancy new Offices, to excuse our Negligence toward the natural ones, and to confound them. That this is so, it is manifest, that in places where the Faults are Witchcrafts, the Witchcrafts are but Faults. That in Nations where the Laws of Decency are most rare, and most remiss, the primitive Laws of common reason are better observed: the innumerable multitude of so many Duties stifling and dissipating our Industry and Care. The Application of ourselves to light and trivial things, diverts us from those that are necessary and just. O, that these superficial men take an easy and plausible way in comparison of ours! These are shadows wherewith we palliate and pay one another; but we do not pay, but inflame the reckoning towards that great Judge, who tucks up our rags and tatters above our shameful Parts, and is not nice to view us all over, even to our inmost and most secret Nudities: it were an useful Decency of our maidenly Modesty, could it keep him from this Discovery. In fine, whoever could reclaim man from so scrupulous a verbal Superstition, would do the World no great disservice. Our Life is divided betwixt Folly and Prudence. Whoever will write but what is reverend and Canonical, will leave above the one half behind. I do not excuse myself to myself, and if I did, it should rather be for my Excuses that I would excuse myself, than for any other Fault. I excuse myself of certain Humours, which I think more strong in number than those that are on my side: In consideration of which, I will further say this, (for I desire to please every one, though it will be hard to do; esse unum hominem accommodatum ad tantam morum ac sermonum & voluntatum varietatem) that they ought not to condemn me for what I make Authorities, received and approved of so many Ages, to utter: and that there is no reason that for want of Rhyme they should refuse me the Liberty they allow even to Churchmen of our Nation, and time. Of which here are two, and of the briskest amongst them; 

Rimula, dispeream, ni monogramma tua est. 
Beza.    

Vn vit d'amy la content, & bien traitte. 
St. Gelais.    besides how many others. I love Modesty, and 'tis not out of Judgement that I have chosen this scandalous way of speaking; 'tis Nature that has chosen it for me: I commend it not, no more than other forms that are contrary to common usance: but I excuse it, and by Circumstances both general and particular, alleviate the Accusation. But to proceed; From whence also can that Usurpation of sovereign Authority you take upon you over the Women, who favour you at their own expense, 

Si furtiva dedit nigra munuscula nocte. 
Catullus.    

If in the silence of the Night  
She has permitted stolen delight.   so that you presently assume the Interest, Coldness, and Authority of a Husband, be derived? 'Tis a free contract. Why do you not then begin, as you intent to hold on? There is no prescription upon voluntary things. 'Tis against the form; but it is true withal, that I in my time have carried on this intrigue as much as the Nature of it would permit, as conscientiously, and with as much colour of Justice, as any other contract whatever; and that I never pretended other Affection than what I really had, and have truly acquainted them with the Declination, Vigour, and Birth of the fame, the Fits and Intermissions: a man does not always hold on at the same rate. I have been so sparing of my Promises, that I think I have been better than my Word. 
The Author's Fidelity in Love.  They have found me faithful to their Inconstancy, even to a professed, and sometimes a multiplied Inconstancy. I never broke with them whilst I had any hold at all, and what Occasion soever they have given me, never broke with them to Hatred or Contempt. For such Privacies, though obtained upon never so scandalous terms, do yet oblige to some good Will. I have sometimes, upon their tricks and evasions, discovered a little indiscreet Anger and Impatience; for I am naturally subject to rash Emotions, which though light and short, often spoil my Market. Would they freely have consulted my Judgement, I should not have stuck to have given them sharp and paternal Counsels, and to have pinched them to the quick. If I have left them any cause to complain of me, 'tis rather to have found in me, in comparison of the modern usance, a Love foolishly conscientious than any thing else. I have kept my word in things wherein I might easily have been dispensed; they then sometimes surrendered themselves with Reputation, and upon Articles that they were willing enough should be broken by the Conqueror. I have more than once made Pleasure in its greatest effort strike to the interest of their humour; and where Reason importuned me, have armed them against myself; so that they ordered their affairs more decently and securely by my Rules, when they frankly referred themselves to them, than they would have done by their own. I have ever, as much as I could, wholly taken upon myself alone the hazard of our assignations to acquit them, and have always contrived our meetings after the hardest and most unusual manner, as less suspected, and moreover, in my opinion, more accessible. They are chiefly more open, where they think they are the most securely shut. Things least feared are least interdicted and observed. One may more boldly dare what no body thinks you dare, which by the difficulty becomes easy. Never had any man his approaches more impertinently genital; this way of loving is more according to my discipline: but how ridiculous and ineffectual to our People, who better know than I? yet I shall not repent me of it, I have nothing there more to lose. 

me tabula sacer 
Horat. lib. Ode 5.   
Votiva paries, indicat uvida  
Suspendisse potenti  
Vestimenta Maris Deo.   

For me, 
Sir Rich. Fanshaw.  my votive table shows  
That I have hanged up my wet clothes  
Upon the Temple Wall  
Of Sea's great Admiral.   'Tis now my time to speak out. But I might peradventure say, as another would do, Thou talkest idly, my friend, the Love of thy time has little Commerce with Faith and Integrity. 


Terence. Eun. Act. 1. Scaen. 1.  haec si tu postules  
Ratione certa facere, nihilo plus agas,  
Quam si des operam, ut cum ratione insanias.   

These things if thou wilt undertake,  
By Reason, permanent to make;  
This will be all thou'lt get by it,  
Wisely to run out of thy Wit.   On the contrary also, if it were for me to begin again, in earnest it should be by the same method, and the same progress, how fruitless soever it might prove. Folly and Ignorance are commendable in an incommendable action. The farther I go from their humour in this, I approach so much nearer to my own. As to the rest, in this traffic, I would not suffer myself to be totally carried away, I would please myself in it, but would not forget myself withal: I would keep the little Sense and Discretion that Nature has given me, entire for their service and my own: a little Emotion, but no Dotage. My Conscience should also be engaged in it, even to Debauch and Dissolution; but so far as to Ingratitude, Treachery, Malice and Cruelty, never. I would not purchase the pleasure of this Vice at any rate, but content myself with its proper and simple expense. Nullum intra se vitium est, Nothing is a Vice in itself. I almost equally hate a stupid and slothful Laziness, as I do a toilsome and painful Employment; the one pinches, the other lays me asleep. I like wounds as well as bruises, and cuts as well as dry blows. I found in this Commerce, when I was the most able for it, a just moderation betwixt these Extremes. Love is a sprightly, lively, and gay Agitation, I was neither troubled nor afflicted with it, but heated, and moreover disordered; a man must stop there: it hurts no body but fools. A young man asked the Philosopher Panetius, if it was becoming a wise man to be in Love? Let the wise man look to that, answered he, but let not thou and I, who are not so, engage ourselves in so stirring and violent an affair, that will slave us to others, and render us contemptible to ourselves. He said true: that we are not to intrust a thing so precipitous in itself, to a Soul that has not wherewithal to withstand its assaults, and disprove the saying of Agesilaus, that Prudence and Love cannot live together. 'Tis a vain Employment, 'tis true, indecent, shameful, and unlawful; but to carry it on after this manner, I look upon it as wholesome, and proper to enliven a drowsy Soul, and to rouse up a heavy Body. And, as an experienced Physician, I would prescribe it to a man of my form and condition, as soon as any other Recipe whatever, to rouse and keep him in vigour till well advanced in years, and to defer the approaches of Age, whilst we are but in the Suburbs, and that the Pulse yet beats. 


Juven. Sat. 3.  Dum nova canitieses, dum prima & recta senectus,  
Dum superest Lachesi quod torqueat, & pedibus me  
Porto meis, nullo dextram subeunte bacillo.   


Sir Robert Stapleton.  Whilst Age strait-shouldred hath some youth in it,  
Whilst my hair's grey, whilst there's a remnant yet  
For Lachesis to spin, whilst I walk on  
My own Legs, need no staff to lean upon.   We have need to be trinckled and tickled by some such niping incitation as this. Do but observe what Youth, Vigour, and Gaiety it inspired Anacreon withal. And Socrates, who was then older than I, speaking of an amorous Object, Leaning, said he, my Shoulder to her Shoulder, and my Head to hers, as we were reading together in a Book, I felt, without dissembling, a sudden sting in my Shoulder like the biting of a Flea, which I still felt above five days after, and a continual itching crept into my Heart. What only an accidental touch, and of a Shoulder, to heat and alter a Soul mortified and enerved by Age, and the strictest liver of all Mankind? And pray why not? Socrates was a Man, and would neither be, nor be like any other thing. Philosophy does not contend against natural Pleasures, 
Natural Pleasures allowed if moderate.  provided they be moderate: and only preaches Moderation, not a total abstinence. The power of resistance is employed against those that are adulterate, and introduced by Innovation. Philosophy says, that the Appetites of the Body ought not to be augmented by the Mind; and ingeniously warns us not to stir up Hunger by Saturity, not to stuff instead of filling the Belly, to avoid all Fruition that may bring us to want, and all Meats and Drinks that procure Thirst and Hunger: As she does in the service of Love, she there prescribes us to take such an object as may only simply satisfy the Bodies real need, and may not stir the Soul, which ought only barely to follow and assist the Body, without mixing in the affair. But have I not reason to believe, that these Precepts, which nevertheless, in my opinion, are elsewhere very severe, are only directed to a Body in its best, and best performing plight: and that in a Body broken with Age, as in a weak Stomach, 'tis excusable to warm and support it by Art, and by the mediation of the Fancy, to restore the Appetite, and cheerfulness it has lost in itself. May we not say, that there is nothing in us during this earthly Prison that is purely either corporeal or spiritual; and that we injuriously break up a man alive; and that it seems but reasonable that we should carry ourselves as favourably at least against the use of Pleasure, as we do against that of Pain? It was (for example) vehement even to perfection in the Souls of the Saints by Repentance: the Body had there naturally a share by the right of Union, and yet might have but little part in the Cause; and yet are they not contented that it should barely follow, and assist the afflicted Soul. They have afflicted it by itself, with grievous and peculiar torments, to the end, that by emulation of one another, the Soul and Body might plunge man into misery, by so much more salutiferous as it is more painful and severe. In like manner, is it not injustice in bodily pleasures to subdue and keep under the Soul, and say, that it must therein be dragged along, as to some enforced and servile obligation and necessity? 'Tis rather her part to botch and cherish them, there to present herself, and to invite them, the Authority of Ruling belonging to her, as it is also her part, in my opinion, in Pleasures that are proper to her, to inspire and infuse into the Body all the resentment it is capable of, and to study how to make it pleasant and useful to it. For it is good reason, as they say, that the Body should not pursue its Appetites to the prejudice of the Mind; but why is it not also reason that the Mind should not pursue hers to the prejudice of the Body? I have no other Passion to keep me in breath. What Avarice, Ambition, Quarrels and Suits do to others, who, like me, have no particular Vocation, Love would much more commodiously do; it would restore to me Vigilancy, Sobriety, Grace, and the care of my Person. It would re-assure my countenance, that the sour looks, those deformed, and to be pitied sour looks of old Age, might not step in to disgrace it; would again put me upon sound and wise studies, by which I might render myself more loved and esteemed, clearing my mind of the despair of itself, and of its Use, and redintigrate it to itself; would divert me from a thousand troublesome thoughts, and a thousand melancholic Humours, that Idleness and the ill posture of our Health loads us withal at such an Age; would warm again, in Dreams at least, the Blood that Nature has given over; would hold up the Chin, and a little stretch out the Nerves, the vigours, and gaiety of Life of that poor man who is going full drive toward his ruin. But I very well understand that it is a commodity very hard to recover: by Weakness and long Experience our taste is become more delicate and nice: we ask most, when we bring least; and will have the most choice, when we least deserve to be accepted: and knowing ourselves for what we are, we are less confident and more distrustful, nothing can assure us of being beloved, considering our condition and theirs. I am out of countenance to see myself in company with those young wanton creatures, 
Cujus in indomito constantior inguine nervus, 
Horat. Epod. 12.   
Quam nova collibus arbor inhaeret.  to what end should we go insinuate our misery with their gay and sprightly humour? 

Possint ut juvenes visere fervidi,  

Hor. lib. 4. Ode 13.  Multo non sine risu,  
Dilapsam in cineres facem.   

That Youth inflamed may behold:  

Sir Thomas Hawkins.  Not without laughter, and much scorn,  
A burning Torch to Ashes worn.   They have Strength and Reason on their side, let us give way, we are most able to make good our ground. And these blossoms of springing Beauty suffer not themselves to be handled by such benumbed hands, nor be dealt with mere material means. For, as the old Philosopher answered one that jeered him because he could not gain the favour of a young Girl he made love to, Friend, the hook will not stick in such soft cheese. It is a Commerce that requires relation and correspondence: the other Pleasures we receive may be acknowledged by recompenses of another nature: but this is not to be paid but with the same kind of Coin. In earnest, in this sport, the Pleasure I give does more tickle my imagination, than that they give me. Now, as he has nothing of generosity in him that can receive a courtesy where he conferrs none, it must needs be a mean Soul that will owe all, and can be contented to maintain a Friendship with Persons to whom he is a continual charge. There is no Beauty, Grace, nor Privacy so exquisite, that a gallant man ought to desire at this rate. If they only can be kind to us out of Pity, I had much rather die than live upon Charity. I would have right to ask in the style that I saw some beg in Italy, Fate ben per voi, Do good for yourself; or after the manner that Cyrus exhorted his Soldiers, Who loves me, follow me. Consort yourself (some one will say to me) with Women of your own condition, whom, the company of one of the same Age will render more easy to your desire. O ridiculous and stupid composition! 

nolo 
Mart. li. 10. Epig. 90.   
Barbam vellere mortuo Leoni.   

Rouse not a sleeping Lioness.   Xenophon lays it for an objection, and an accusation against Menon, that he never made love to any but old Women: for my part, I take more pleasure in seeing only the just and sweet mixture of two young Beauties: or only to meditate of it in my fancy, than to be myself an Actor in the second with a deformed creature. I leave that fantastic Appetite to the Emperor Galba, that was only for old curried flesh: and to this poor wretch, 

O, ego Di faciant talem te cernere possim, 
Ovid. Trist.   
Charaque mutatis oscula ferre comis,  
Amplectique meis corpus non pingue lacertis.   

O, would to Heaven, that such I might thee see,  
To kiss those Locks, grey with Antiquity,  
And thy lank withered Body to embrace.   And amongst the Deformities, 
Painted Beauties reckoned amongst Deformities.  I reckon forced and artificial Beauties. Emonez, a young Courtesan of Chios, thinking by fine dressing to acquire the Beauty that Nature had denied her, came to the Philosopher Arcesilaus, and asked him, if it was possible for a wise man to be in love, Yes, replied he, provided it be not with a sarded and adulterated Beauty, like thine. The Deformity of a confessed Antiquity, is not to me so despiseable and nauseous, as another that is polished and plastered up. Shall I speak it without the danger of having my Throat cut? 
At what Age Love is in his Throne.  Love, in my Opinion, is not properly and naturally in its Season, but in the Age next to Childhood; 


Hor. lib. 2. Ode 5.  Quem si puellarum insereres choro,  
Mille sagaces falleret hospites,  
Discrimen obscurum, solutis  
Crinibus, ambiguoque vultu.   

Whom should you with dishevelled Hair,  
And that ambiguous face, bring in  
Amongst the Chorus of the fair,  
He would deceive the subtlest there,  
So smooth, so rosy is his Skin.   nor beauty neither. For whereas Homer extends it so far as to the budding of the Chin; Plato himself has observed it for rare. And the reason why the Sophist Dion called the first appearing Hairs of adolescence, Aristogitons, and Harmodii, is sufficiently known. I find it in virility already in some sort a little out of date, though not so much as in old Age. 

Importunus enim transvolat aridas Quercus. 
Hor. l. 4. Ode 13.    

Love restless with quick motion flies  
From withered Oaks.   And Marguerite, Queen of Navarre, like a Woman, does very far extend the Advantage of Women, ordaining, that it is time at thirty years old, to convert the title of Fair into that of Good. The shorter Authority we give him over our lives, 'tis so much the better for us. Do but observe his Comportment; 'tis a beardless Boy, that knows not how they proceed in his School, contrary to all Order; Study, Exercise, and Usance, are ways for Insufficiency to proceed by. There Novices rule. Amor ordinem nescit. Love knows no Order. 
Divus Hieron.  Doubtless his conduct is much more graceful, when mixed with Inadvertency and Trouble: Miscarriages and ill Successes give him Appetite and Grace, provided it be sharp and eager, 'tis no great matter whether it be prudent or no. Do but observe how he goes reeling, tripping, and playing: you put him in the Stocks when you guide him by Art and Wisdom, and he is restrained of his Divine Liberty when put into those hairy and callous Clutches. As to the rest, I oft hear them set out this Intelligence, as entirely spiritual, and disdain to put the interest the Senses there have into Consideration. Every thing there serves turn; but I can say that I have often seen, that we have excused the weakness of their Understandings, in favour of their outward Beauty; but have never yet seen that in favour of a mind, how mature and well-disposed soever, any one would lend a hand to support a Body that was never so little decayed. Why does not some one make an attempt to make that noble Socratical Contract and Union of the Body to the Soul, purchasing a philosophical and spiritual Intelligence and Generation at the price of his Thighs, which is the highest price it can amount to? Plato ordains in his Laws, that he who has performed any signal and advantageous Exploit in War, may not be refused during the whole Expedition, his Age, or Deformity notwithstanding, a kiss, or any other amorous Favour from any whatever. What he thinks to be so just in Recommendation of Military Valour, why may it not be the same in Recommendation of any other good Quality? And why does not some Woman take a fancy to prepossess over her Companions the Glory of this chaste Love? I may well say chaste, 

— nam si quando ad praelia ventum est  
Vt quondam in stipulis magnus sine viribus ignis 
Virg. Georg. lib. 3.   
Incassum furit.—   

For when to join Love's Battle they engage, 
Mr. Ogilby.   
Like Fire in Straw they fond spend their rage.   the Vices that are stifled in the thought are not the worst. To conclude this notable Commentary, which has escaped from me in a Torrent of babble, a Torrent sometimes impetuous and offensive: 

Vt missum sponsi furtivo munere malum, 
Catullus.   
Procurrit casto Virginis è gremio:  
Quod miserae oblitae molli sub veste locatum,  
Dum adventu matris prosilit, excutitur,  
Atque illud prono praeceps agitur decursu,  
Huic manat tristi conscius ore rubor.   

As a fair Apple, by a Lover sent  
To's Mistress, for a private Compliment,  
Does tumble from the rosy Virgin's lap,  
Where she had quite forgot it by mishap;  
When, starting at her Mother's coming in,  
It is shaked out her Garments from between,  
And rolls over the Floor before her Eyes,  
A guilty blush her fair Complexion dies.   I say that Males and Females are cast in the same Mould, and that Education and Usage excepted, the difference is not great: Plato indifferently invites both the one and the other to the Society of all Studies, Exercises, and Commands, both Military and Civil, in the Commonwealth; and the Philosopher Antisthenes took away all distinction betwixt their Virtue and ours. It is much more easy to accuse one Sex, than to excuse the other. 'Tis according to the Proverb, Ill may Vice correct Sin.   

CHAP. VI Of Coaches.  
IT is very easy to make it appear, that great Authors, when they write of Causes, do not only make use of those they think to be the true Causes indeed, but also of those they believe are not so, provided their Works may be illustrated with the Beauty of Invention. They speak true, and usefully enough, if it be ingeniously. We cannot make ourselves sure of the supreme Cause, and therefore clutter a great many together, to see if it may not accidentally be amongst them, 

namque unam dicere causam,  

Lucret. l. 6.  Non satis est, verum plures unde una tamen sit.   


Mr. Creech.  And thus my Muse a store of Causes brings;  
For here, as in a thousand other things,  
Though by one single Cause th'effect is done,  
Yet since 'tis hid, a thousand must be shown,  
That we may surely hit that single one.   Will you ask me, 
Why they say God bless you when you Sneeze.  whence the Customs of blessing those that Sneeze? we break Wind three several ways; that which sallies from below is too filthy; that which breaks out from the Mouth carries with it some reproach of having eaten too much; the third Eruption is Sneezing, which, because it proceeds from the Head, and is without offence, we give it this civil Reception; Do not laugh at this distinction, for they say 'tis Aristotle's. I think I have read in Plutarch (which of all the Authors I ever conversed with, is he who has best mixed Art with Nature, and Judgement with Knowledge,) giving a Reason for the rising of the Stomach in those that are at Sea, that it is occasioned by fear, having found out some reason by which he proves, that fear may produce such an Effect: I, who am very subject to vomit, know very well that that Cause concerns not me; 
Why People are apt to vomit at Sea.  and know it not by Argument, but by necessary Experience, without instancing what has been often told me; that the same thing oft happens in Beasts, especially Hogs, when out of all apprehension of danger; and what an Acquaintance of mine has told me of himself, that being very subject to it, the Disposition to vomit has three or four times gone off him, being very much afraid in a violent Storm, as it happened to that ancient. 
Seneca.  Pejus vexabar quam ut periculum mihi succurreret. I was too much troubled for my danger to relieve me. I was never afraid upon the Water, nor indeed in any other peril (and I have had enough before my eyes, that have been just enough, if death be one) so as to be astonished and to lose my Judgement. Fear springs sometimes as well from want of Judgement as from want of Courage. All the dangers I have been in I have looked upon without winking, with an open, sound, and entire Sight; and besides, a man must have courage to fear: It has formerly served me better than some others, so to order my retreat, that it was, if not without fear, nevertheless without affright and astonishment. It was stirred indeed, but not amazed nor stupefied. Great Souls go yet much farther, and represent flights, not only sound and temperate, but moreover fierce. Let us make a Relation of that which Alcibiades reports of Socrates, his fellow in Arms: I found him, says he, after the rout of our Army, him and Lachez in the rear of those that fled, and considered him at my leisure, and in security, for I was mounted upon a good Horse, and he on foot, and had so fought. I took notice in the first place, how much Judgement and Resolution he showed in comparison of Lachez, and then the bravery of his march, nothing different from his ordinary gate; his sight firm and regular, considering and judging what passed about him, looking one while upon those, and then upon others, Friends and Enemies, after such a manner as encouraged the one, and signified to the others, that he would sell his life dear to any one should attempt to take it from him, and so they came off; for People are not willing to attack such kind of men, but pursue those they see are in a Fright. This is the Testimony of this great Captain, which teaches us what we every day see, that nothing so much throws us into dangers as an inconsiderate eagerness of getting ourselves clear of them. Quo timoris minus est, eo minus ferme pericula est. 
Livius, l. 22.  When there is least fear there is for the most part least danger. Our People are too blame to say that such a one is afraid of Death, when he expresses that he thinks of it and foresee it: Foresight is equally convenient in what concerns us, whether good or ill. To consider and judge of the danger, is in some sort the reverse to being astonished. I do not find myself strong enough to sustain the force and impetuosity of this Passion of Fear, nor of any other vehement Passion whatever: If I was once conquered and beaten down, I should never rise again very sound. Whoever should once make my Soul lose her footing, would never set it upright again: she retasts and researches herself too profoundly, and too much to the quick, and therefore would never let the wound she had received heal and cicatrize: It has been well for me that never any sickness has yet discomposed it: At every charge made upon me, I make my utmost opposition and best defence; by which means the first that should rout me, would make me for ever rallying again; I have no after game to play. On which side soever the inundation breaks my banks, I lie open, and am drowned without remedy. Epicurus says, that a wise Man can never become a Fool; and I have an Opinion reverse to this Sentence, which is, that who has once been a very Fool, will never after be very wise. God grant me Cold according to my cloth, and Passions proportionable to the means I have to withstand them. Nature having laid me open on the one side, has covered me on the other; having disarmed me of strength, she has armed me with insensibility, and an apprehension that is either regular or dull. Now I cannot long endure (and when I was young much less endured) either Coach, Litter, or Boat, and hate all other riding but on Horseback, both in the City and Country. But I can worse endure a Litter than a Coach, and by the same reason, better a rude Agitation upon the Water, from whence fear is produced, than the motions of a Calm. At the little jerks of Oars, stealing the Vessel from under us, I find I know not how both my Head and my Stomach disordered: neither can I endure to sit upon a tottering Stool. When the Sail, or the Current carries us equally, or that we are towed, those equal agitations do not disturb me at all. 'Tis an interrupted Motion that offends me, and most of all when most slow: I cannot otherwise express it. The Physicians have ordered me to squeeze and gird myself about the bottom of my Belly with a Napkin to remedy this accident; which however I have not tried, being accustomed to wrestle with my own defects, and overcome them by myself. Would my Memory serve me, I should not think my time ill spent in setting down here the infinite variety that History presents us of the use of Coaches in the Service of War: various according to the Nations, and according to the Ages; in my Opinion, of great necessity and effect: so that it is a wonder that we have lost all knowledge of them. I will only say this, that very lately, in our Father's time, the Hungarians made very advantagous' use of them against the Turks; having in every one of them a Targetter and a Musket, and a number of Harquebuseers drawn up, ready, and charged, and all covered with a 
* A Defence of Shields ranged by one another.  Pavesade like a Galliot. They made the Front of their Battle with three thousand such Coaches, and after the Canon had played, made them all pour in their shot upon the Enemy, and made them swallow that Volley before they tasted of the rest; which was no little advance; and that done, the said Chariots charged into their Squadrons to break them, and make way for the rest: besides the use they might make of them to flank their Bodies in a place of danger marching in the Field, or to cover a Quarter, and fortify it in haste. In my time, a Gentleman in one of our Frontiers, unwieldy of Body, and not being able to procure a Horse able to carry his weight, having a Quarrel, rid up and down in a Chariot of this fashion, and found great Convenience in it. But let us leave these Chariots of War. As if the insignificancy of Coaches had not been sufficiently known by better proofs, the last Kings of our first Race travelled in a Chariot drawn by four Oxen. Mark Anthony was the first at Rome that caused himself to be drawn in a Coach by Lions, and a singing Wench with him. Heliogabalus did since as much, call himself Cybele, the Mother of the Gods; and also by Tigers, taking upon him the Person of the God Bacchus, he also sometimes harnessed two Stags to his Coach, another time four Dogs, and another, four naked Whores, causing himself to be drawn by them in Pomp, stark naked too. The Emperor Firmus caused his Chariot to be drawn by Ostriches of a prodigious size, so that it seemed rather to fly, than roll. The strangeness of these Inventions puts this other Fancy in my head; that it is a kind of Pusillanimity in Monarches, 
The excessive expense of Monarches a testimony of pusillanimity.  and a Testimony that they do not sufficiently understand themselves what they are, when they study to make themselves honoured, and to appear great by excessive Expense. It were indeed excusable in a foreign Country, where they are Strangers; but amongst their own Subjects, where they are in Sovereign command, and may do what they please, it derogates from their Dignity, the most supreme degree of Honour, to which they can arrive. As, methinks, it is superfluous in a private Gentleman to go finely dressed at home; his House, his Attendants, and his Kitchen, sufficiently answer for him. The advice that Isocrates gives his King, seems to be grounded upon Reason; that he should be splendid in Pla●e and Furniture: forasmuch as it is an expense of duration, that devolves to his Successors; and that he should avoid all Magnificences that will in a short time be forgot. I loved to go fine when I was a younger Brother, for want of other Ornament, and it became me well: there are some upon whom their rich clothes weep. We have strange stories of the frugality of our Kings about their own Persons, and in their gifts: Kings that were great both in Reputation, Valour, and Fortune. Demosthenes mightily stickles against the Law of the City, that assigned the public Money for the Pomp of their public Plays and Festivals: he would that their Greatness should be seen in the number of Ships well equipt, and good Armies well provided for. And there is good reason to condemn Theophrastus, who, in his Book of Riches, has established a contrary opinion, and maintains that sort of Expense to be the true fruit of Abundance. They are delights, says Aristotle, that only please the base sort of the People, and that vanish from the memory so soon as they are sated with them, and of which no serious and judicious man can have any esteem. This Money would, in my opinion, be much more Royally, as more profitably, justly, and durably, laid out in Ports, Havens, Walls, and Fortifications; in sumptuous Buildings, Churches, Colleges, the reforming of Streets and Highways; wherein Pope Gregory the thirteenth will leave a laudable memory to future times; and wherein our Queen Catharine would to all Posterity manifest her natural Liberality, and Munificence to succeeding Ages, would her Means supply her Affection. Fortune has done me a great despite, in interrupting the noble Structure of the Pontneuf of our great City, 
The Pontneuf at Paris.  and depriving me of the hope of seeing it finished before I die. Moreover, it seems to the Subjects, who are daily Spectators of these Triumphs, that their own Riches are exposed before them, and that they are entertained at their own expense. For the People are apt to presume of Kings, as we do of our Servants, that they are to take care to provide us all things necessary in abundance; but not touch it themselves: And therefore the Emperor Galba, being pleased with a Musician that played to him at Supper, called for his Cabinet, and gave him a handful of Crowns that he took out of it, with these words, This is not the Public Money, but my own. Yet it so falls out, that the People for the most part have Reason on their side, and that their Princes feed their Eyes with what they once had to fill their Bellies. Liberality itself is not in its true Lustre in a Sovereign hand: private men have therein the most right; for to take it exactly, a King has nothing properly his own; he owes himself to others. Authority is not given in favour of the Magistrate, but of the People. A Superior is never made so for his own Profit, but for the Profit of the Inferior; and a Physician for the sick Person, and not for himself. All Magistracy, as well as all Art, has its end out of itself. 
Seneca.  Nulla ars in se versatur. Wherefore the Governors of young Princes, who make it their Business to imprint in them this Virtue of Liberality, and preach to them to deny nothing, and to think nothing so well spent, as what they give, (a Doctrine that I have known in great Credit in my time) either have more particular regard to their own profit, than that of their Master, or ill understand to whom they speak. It is too easy a thing to imprint Liberality in him who has as much as he will to supply it with at the expense of others; and the estimate of it, not being proportioned to the value of the Gift, but to the Wealth of him who extends it, it comes to nothing in so mighty Hands. They find themselves Prodigal, before they can be reputed Liberal; And yet it is but of little Recommendation, in comparison of other Royal Virtues: and the only one, as the Tyrant Dionysius said, that suits well with Tyranny itself. I should rather teach him this of the ancient Labourer, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
Corinea apud Plutarch.  That whoever will have a good Crop, must sow with his hand, and not pour out of the Sack: he must disperse it abroad, and not lay it on a heap in one place: and that being he is to give, or to say better, to pay and restore to so many People, according as they have deserved, he ought to be a loyal and discreet Disposer. If the Liberality of a Prince be without measure or discretion, I had rather he were covetous. A Royal Virtue seems most to consist in Justice; 
Wherein Royal Virtue consists.  and of all the parts of Justice, that best denotes a King that accompanies his Liberality; for that they have particularly reserved to be performed by themselves, whereas all other sorts of Justice they remit to the Administration of others. An immoderate Bounty is a very weak means to acquire them good will, for it checks more People than it allures: 
Cicero de Offi. Jem. Seneca de Benef. vel in Epist.  Quo in plures usus sit, minus in multos uti possit. Quid autem est stultius, quam quod libenter facias, curare ut id diutius facere non possis. By how much more you use it to many, by so much less will you be in a capacity to use it to many more. And what greater folly can there be than to order it so, that what you would do willingly you cannot do long? And if it be conferred without due respect of Merit, 
Tyrant's hated by those whom they have unjustly advanced.  it puts him out of countenance that receives it, and is received without grace. Tyrant's have been sacrificed to the hatred of the People by the hands of those very men they have unjustly advanced; such kind of men thinking to assure to themselves the possession of Benefits unduly received, if they manifest to have him in hatred and disdain of whom they hold them; and in this associate themselves to the common Judgement and Opinion. The Subjects of a Prince profuse in Gifts, grow unreasonable in ask, and accommodate themselves not to Reason, but Example. We have in earnest very oft reason to blush at our own Impudence: we are over-paid, according to Justice, when the Recompense equals our Service; for do we owe nothing of natural Obligation to our Princes? If he bears our Charges, he does too much; 'tis enough that he contributes to them, the overplus is called Benefit, which cannot be exacted: for the very name of Liberality sounds of Liberty: there is no end on't, as we use it. We never reckon what we have received, we are only for the future Liberality. Wherefore, the more a Prince exhausts himself in giving, the poorer he grows in Friends. How should he satisfy immoderate desires, that still increase the more they are filled? He who has his thoughts upon taking, never thinks of what he has taken. Covetousness has nothing so proper, and so much its own as Ingratitude. The Example of Cyrus will not do amiss in this place, to serve the Kings of these times for a touchstone, to know whether their gifts are well or ill bestowed, and to see how much better that Emperor conferred them than they do: by which means they are reduced to borrow of their unknown Subjects, and rather of them who they have wronged than of them on whom they have conferred their benefits, and so receive Aids, wherein there is nothing of gratuitous but the Name. Croesus' reproached him with his Bounty, and cast up to how much his Treasure would amount if he had been a little closer handed. He had a mind to justify his Liberality, and therefore sent Dispatches into all Parts to the Grandees of his Dominions, whom he had particularly advanced, entreating every one of them to supply him with as much Money as they could for a pressing occasion, and to send him a particular of what every one could advance. When all these Tickets were brought to him, every one of his Friends, not thinking it enough barely to offer him only so much as he had received from his Bounty, adding to it a great deal of his own, it appeared that the Sum amounted to a great deal more than Croesus his reckoning. Whereupon Cyrus, I am not, said he, less in love with Riches, than other Princes, but rather a better Husband, you see with how small a venture I have acquired the inestimable Treasure of so many Friends; and how much more faithful Treasure they are to me than Mercenary men without Obligation or Affection would be; and my Money better laid up than in Chests, putting upon me the Hatred, Envy, and Contempt of other Princes. The Emperors excused the Superfluity of their Plays, and public Spectacles, by reason that their Authority did in some sort (at least in outward appearance) depend upon the Will of the People of Rome; who, time out of mind, had been accustomed to be entertained and caressed with such shows and excesses. But they were particular men who had nourished this Custom, to gratify their Fellow-Citizens and Companions, (and chiefly out of their own Purses) by such Profusion and Magnificence: It had quite another taste, when they were the Masters who came to hold it up. 
Cic. de Off. lib. 1.  Pecuniarum translatio à justis dominis ad alienos non debet liberalis videri. The transferring of Money from the right Owners to Strangers, ought not to have the Title of Liberality. Philip, being his Son, went about by Presents to gain the Affection of the Macedonians, reprimanded him in a Letter after this manner. What! hast thou a mind that thy Subjects shall look upon thee as their Cashkeeper, and not as their King? Will't thou tamper with them to win their Affections? Do it then by the benefit of thy Virtue, and not by those of thy Chest And yet it was doubtless a fine thing to bring and plant within the Theatre a great number of vast Trees, with all their Branches in their full verdure, representing a great shady Forest, disposed in excellent order, and the first day to throw into it a thousand Ostriches and a thousand Stags, a thousand Boars, and a thousand fallow Deer, to be killed and disposed of by the People: the next day, to cause an hundred great Lions, an hundred Leopards, and three hundred Bears to be killed in his presence; and for the third day, to make three hundred pair of Fencers to fight it out to the last, as the Emperor Probus did. It was also very fine to see those vast Amphitheatres, 
Rich and sumptuous Amphitheatres.  all faced with Marble without, curiously wrought with Figures and Statues, and the inside sparkling with rare decorations and enrichments. 


Calphurnius, Eg. 7.  Baltheus en gemmis, en illita Porticus auro.   

Behold a Belt with Jewels glorious made,  
And a brave Portico with Gold o'relaid.   all the sides of this vast space filled and environed from the bottom to the top, with three or fourscore ranks of Seats, all of Marble also, and covered with Cushions, 


Juven. sat. 3. — exeat, inquit,  
Si pudor est, & depulvino surgat equestri,  
Cujus res legi non sufficit.   


Sir Robert Stapleton.  Get y'out, whose means fall short of Law, one cries,  
For shame from off the noble Cushion rise.   where a hundred thousand men might sit placed at their ease: and the place below, where the Plays were played, to make it by Art first open, and cleave in chinks, representing Caves that vomited out the Beasts designed for the Spectacle; and then secondly, to be overflowed with a profound Sea, full of Sea Monsters, and loaded with Ships of War, to represent a Naval Battle: and thirdly, to make it dry and even again for the Combat of the Gladiators; and for the fourth Scene, to have it strewed with Vermilion and Storax instead of Sand, there to make a solemn Feast for all that infinite number of People: the last Act of one only day. 

Quoties nos descendentis arenae 
Calphurnius.   
Vidimus in parts, ruptaque voragine terrae  
Emersisse feras, & iisdem saepe latebris  
Aurea cum croceo creverunt arbuta libro.  
Nec solum nobis silvestria cernere monstra  
Contigit, aequoreos ego cum certantibus ursis  
Spectavi vitulos, & equorum nomine dignum,  
Sed deforme pecus.   

How often, when Spectators, have we seen  
One corner of the Theatre sink in;  
And from a dreadful Chasm in the Earth,  
Vomit wild Beasts: Then presently give birth  
Unto a glittering Grove of golden Bowers,  
That put forth blossoms of enameled flowers.  
Nor yet of Sylvan Monsters had we sight  
Alone, I saw Sea-calves with wild Bears fight,  
And a deformed sort of Monsters came,  
Which by their shape we might Sea-horses name.   sometimes they have made a high Mountain to advance itself, full of Fruit-trees, and other flourishing sorts of Wood, sending down Rivulets of Water from the top, as from the mouth of a Fountain: Other while, a great Ship was seen to come rolling in, which opened and divided of itself; and after having disgorged from the hold four or five hundred Beasts for fight, closed again, and vanished without help. At other times, from the Floor of this Place, they made spouts of perfumed Water, dart their streams upward, and so high as to besprinkle all that infinite Multitude. To defend themselves from the injuries of the weather, they had that vast Place one while covered over with Purple Curtains of Needlework, and by and by with Silk of another colour, which they could draw off or on in a moment, as they had a mind. 

Quamvis non modico caleant spectacula sole,  
Vela reducuntur cum venit Hermogenes.   

The curtains, tho'the Sun does scorch the skin,  
Are when Hermogenes appears drawn in.   The Network also that was set before the People to defend them from the violence of these turned out Beasts, were also woven of Gold. 


Calphurnius, Eg. 7.  auro quoque torta refulgent  
Retia.   

And woven Nets refulgent were with Gold.   If there be any excusable in such excesses as these, it is where the Novelty and Invention create more wonder than expense. Even in these Vanities we discover how fertile those Ages were in other kind of Wits than these of ours. It is with this sort of fertility, as with other products of Nature. Not that she there employed her utmost force. We do not go, we rather run up and down, and whirl this way and that; we turn back the way we came. I am afraid our knowledge is weak in all Senses. We neither see far forward, nor backward: Our understanding comprehends little, and lives but a little while; 'tis short both in extent of time, and extent of matter. 

Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona 
Hor. lib. 4. Ode 9   
Multi, sed omnes illacrymabilis  
Vrgentur, ignotique longa Nocte.   

Men slashed ere Diomedes was made; 
Sir Richard Fanshaw.   
But all are in Oblivion drowned,  
And put unmourned into the ground,  
For lack of sacred Poet's aid.   

Et supra bellum Trojanum, & funera Trojae, 
Lucretius, l. 5.   
Multi alias alii quoque res cecinere Poetae.   

And long before the War, and Sack of Troy,  
On other things Bards did their Pens employ.   And the Narrative of Solon, of what he had got out of the Egyptian Priests, touching the long life of their estate, and their manner of learning and preserving foreign Histories; is not, methinks, a Testimony to be slighted upon this consideration. 
Cicero de nat. Deo. l. 1.  Si interminatam in omnes partes magnitudinem regionum videremus, & temporum, in quam se injiciens animus, & intendens, ita latè longeque peregrinatur, ut nullam oram ultimi videat, in qua possit insistere: In haec immensitate infinita, vis innumerabilium appareret formarum. Could we see on all parts the unlimited Magnitude of Regions and Extent of Times, upon which the mind being intent, does wander so far and wide, that no limits of the last are to be seen, in which it can bound its Eye. We should in that infinite Immensity discover an innumerable quantity of Forms. Though all that has arrived at our Knowledge of times passed should be true, and known by some one Person, it would be less than nothing in comparison of what is unknown. And if this Image of the World, which glides whilst we live upon it, how wretched and short is the Knowledge of the most curious? Not only of particular Events, which Fortune often renders exemplary, and of great concern, but of the Estate of great Governments and Nations, a hundred more escape us, than ever come to our Knowledge. We make a mighty Business of the Invention of Artillery and Printing, which other Men at the other end of the World, 
Printing in China.  in China, had a thousand years ago. Did we but see as much of the World as we do not, we should perceive, it is to be supposed, a perpetual Multiplication, and Vicissitude of forms. There is nothing single and rare in respect of Nature, but in respect of our Knowledge; which is a wretched Foundation whereon to ground our Rules, and that represents to us a very false Image of things. As we now a days vainly conclude the declension and decrepitude of the World, by the Arguments we extract from our own Weakness and decay; 

Jamque adeo affecta est Aetas affectaque Tellus.   


Lucret. l. 2.  So much the Age, so much the Earth is changed.   so did they formerly vainly conclude the Birth and Youth of theirs, by the Vigour they observed in the Wits of their time, abounding in Novelties, and the invention of divers Arts. 

Verum, ut opinor, habet novitatem, 
Lucret. l. 5.  summa recensque  
Natura est Mundi, neque pridem exordia coepit:  
Quare etiam quaedam nunc artes ●xpoliuntur,  
Nunc etiam augescunt, nunc addita navigiis sunt  
Multa.   

But sure the Nature of the World is strong,  
Perfect and young; nor can I think it long  
Since it beginning took, because we know  
Arts still increase, and still politer grow,  
And many things, in former times unknown,  
Are added now to Navigation.   Our World has lately discovered another, (and who will assure us that it is the last of his Brothers, since the Daemons, the Sibyls, and we ourselves have been ignorant of this till now?) as large, well peopled, and fruitful, as this whereon we live; and yet so raw and childish, that we yet teach it its ABC: 'tis not above fifty years since it knew neither Letters, Weights, Measures, Vestments, Corn, nor Vines. It was then quite naked in the Mother's lap, and only lived upon what she gave it. If we rightly conclude of our end, and this Poet of the youthfulness of that Age of his; that other World will only enter into the Light when this of ours shall make its Exit. The Universe will be Paralytic, one Member will be useless, another in vigour. I am very much afraid that we have very much precipitated its declension and ruin by our contagion; and that we have sold it our Opinions and our Arts at a very dear rate. It was an infant World, and yet we have not whipped, and subjected it to our discipline, by the advantage of our Valour and natural Forces; neither have we won it by our Justice and Goodness, nor subdued it by our Magnanimity. Most of their Answers, and the Negotiations we have had with them, witness, that they were nothing behind us in Pertinency, and clearness of natural Understanding. The astonishing magnificence of the Cities of Cusco and Mexico, and amongst many other such like things, the Garden of this King, 
The magnificent Garden of the King of Mexico.  where all the Trees, Fruits and Plants, according to the order and stature they are in a Garden, were excellently formed in Gold; as in his Cabinet were all the Animals bred upon the Earth, and in the Seas of his Dominions; and the beauty of their Manufactures, in Jewels, Feathers, Cotton, and Painting, gave ample proof that they were as little inferior to us in industry. But as to what concerns Devotion, observance of the Laws, Bounty, Liberality, Loyally, and plain dealing, it was of Use to us, that we had not so much as they; for they have lost, ●old, and betrayed themselves by this advantage. As to boldness and courage, stability, constancy against Pain, Hunger, and Death, I should not fear to oppose the Examples I find amongst them, to the most famous Examples of elder times, that we find in our Records on this side of the World. For, as to those who have subdued them, take but away the Slights and Artifices they practised to deceive them, and the just astonishment it was to those Nations, to see so sudden and unexpected an arrival of men with Beards, differing in Language, Religion, Shape and Countenance, from so remote a Part of the World, and where they had never heard there was any habitation, mounted upon great unknown Monsters, against those who had never so much as seen a Horse, or any other Beast trained up to carry a man, or any other loading; shelled in a hard and shining skin, with a cutting and glittering Weapon in his hand, against them, who, out of wonder at the brightness of a Looking-glass, or a Knife, would truck great Treasures of Gold and Pearl; and who had neither Knowledge nor Matter with which at leisure they could penetrate our Steel: to which may be added, the Lightning and Thunder of our Pieces and Harquebuses, enough to fright Caesar himself, If surprised, with so little Experience; and how, against naked People, if not, where the invention of a little quilted Cotton was in use, without other Arms, at the most, than Bows, Stones, Staves, and Bucklers of Wood; People surprised under colour of Friendship and good Faith, by the curiosity of seeing strange and unknown things; take but away, I say, this disparity from the conquerors, and you take away all the occasion of so many Victories. When I look upon that invincible ardour wherewith so many thousands of Men, Women, and Children, have so often presented, and thrown themselves into inevitable dangers for the defence of their Gods and Liberties; that generous obstinacy, to suffer all extremities and difficulties, and even Death itself, rather than submit to the Dominion of those by whom they had been so shamefully abused; and some of them choosing rather to die of hunger and fasting, than to accept of nourishment from the hands of their so basely victorious Enemies: I foresee, that whoever would have attacked them upon equal terms of Arms, Experience, and Number, would have had a hard, and peradventure a harder game to play, than in any other War we have seen. Why did not so noble a Conquest fall under Alexander, or the ancient Greeks and Romans; and so great a revolution and mutation of so many Empires and Nations, fall into hands that might have rooted up and gently levelled, and made plain and smooth whatever was rough and savage amongst them, and that might have cherished and propagated the good Seeds that Nature had there produced, mixed, not only with the Culture of Land, and the Ornament of Cities, the Arts of this part of the World, in what was necessary, but also the Greek and Roman Virtues, with those that were Originals of the Country? What a particular Reparation had it been to them, and what a general good to the whole World, had our first Examples and Deportments in those Parts allured those People to the Admiration and Imitation of Virtue, and had begot betwixt them and us a fraternal Society and Intelligence? How easy had it been to have made Advantage of Souls so innocent, and so eager to learn; having for the most part naturally so good Inclinations before? Whereas, on the contrary, we have taken Advantage of their Ignorance and Inexperience, with greater ease to incline them to Treachery, Luxury, Avarice, and towards all sorts of Inhumanity and Cruelty, by the Pattern and Example of our Manners. Who ever enhanced the price of Merchandise at such a rate? So many Cities levelled with the Ground, so many Nations exterminated, so many millions of People fallen by the Edge of the Sword, and the richest and most beautiful part of the World turned upside down, for the Traffic of Pearl and Pepper: Mechanic Victories! Never did Ambition, never did Animosities engage men against one another to such a degree of Hostility and miserable Calamity. Certain Spaniards coasting the Sea in quest of their Mines, landed in a fruitful, and pleasant, and very well peopled Country, and there made to the Inhabitants their accustomed Remonstrances; that they were peaceable men, who were come from a very remote Country, and sent on the behalf of the King of Castille, the greatest Prince of the habitable World, to whom the Pope, God's Vicegerent upon Earth, had given the Principality of the Indies. 
The Offers of the Spaniards to the discovered Indians.  That if they would become Tributaries to him, they should be very gently and courteously used, at the same time requiring of them Victuals for their Nourishment, and Gold whereof to make some pretended Medicine. They moreover remonstrated to them the belief of the only God, and the Truth of our Religion, which they advised them to embrace, to which they also added some Threats. To which they received this Answer: That as to their being peaceable, they did not seem to be such, if they were so. As to their King, he seemed to be neccesitous and poor, because he asked, and he who had given him that dividend, a man that loved dissension, to go give away that to another, which was none of his own, to bring it into dispute against the ancient Possessors. As to Victuals, they would supply them, that of Gold they had little; it being a thing they had in very small esteem, as being of no use to the service of Life, whereas their Care was only bend to pass it over happily and pleasantly: but that what they could find, excepting what was employed in the Service of their Gods, they might freely take. As to one only God, the Proposition had pleased them well, but that they would not change their Religion, both because they had so happily lived in it, and that they were not wont to take advice of any but their Friends, and those they knew. As to their Menaces, it was a sign of want of Judgement, to threaten those whose Nature and Power was to them unknown. That therefore they were to make haste to avoid their Coast, for they were not used to take the Civilities and Remonstrances of armed Men and Strangers in good part; otherwise they should do by them as they had done by those others, showing them the Heads of several executed men round the Walls of their City. A fair Example of the gibberish, and beginning to speak of this Infancy. But so it is, that the Spaniards did neither in this, nor several other places, where they did not find the Merchandise they sought for, make any stay, or any attempt, whatever other Conveniencies were there to be had; Witness the Cannibals.  
Of two the most puissant Monarches of that World, and peradventure of this, Kings of so many Kings, and the last they exterminated; that of Peru, having been taken in a Battle, 
The excessive Ransom of the King of Peru.  and put to so excessive a ransom as exceeds all belief, and it being faithfully paid, and that he had by his Conversation given manifest signs of a frank, liberal, and constant Spirit, and of a clear and settled Understanding; the Conquerors had a mind, after having exacted a million, three hundred twenty five thousand, and five hundred weight of Gold, besides Silver, and other things which amounted to no less; (so that their Horses were shod with Massy Gold) yet to see (at the price of what Disloyalty and Injustice whatever) what the remainder of the Treasures of this King might be, and to possess themselves of that also. To which end a false Accusation was preferred against him, and false Witnesses brought in to prove that he went about to raise an Insurrection in his Provinces, by that means to procure his own Liberty. Whereupon, by the virtuous Sentence of those very men who had by this Treachery conspired his ruin, he was condemned to be publicly hanged, after having made him buy off the Torment of being burnt alive, 
Afterwards hanged notwithstanding.  by the Baptism they gave him immediately before Execution. A horrid and unheard of Barbarity, which nevertheless he underwent without going less either in Word or Look, with a truly grave and royal Behaviour. After which, to calm and appease the People, daunted and astonished at so strange a thing, they counterfeited great Sorrow for his Death, and appointed most sumptuous Funerals.  

The Siege of Mexico.  The other King of Mexico, after a long time defended his beleaguered City, and having in this Siege manifested the utmost of what Suffering and Perseveration can do, if ever Prince and People did, and his Misfortune having delivered him alive into his Enemy's hands, upon Articles of being treated like a King; 
The King taken Prisoner.  neither did he in his Captivity discover any thing unworthy of that Title. His Enemies, after their Victory, not finding so much Gold as they expected, when they had searched and rifled with their utmost Diligence, they went about to procure Discoveries by the most cruel Torments they could invent upon the Prisoners they had taken: but having profited nothing that way, their Courages being greater than their Torments, they arrived at last to such a degree of Fury, as, contrary to their Faith, and the Law of Nations, to condemn the King himself, and one of the principal Noblemen of his Court to the Wrack, 
Put to the Wrack.  in the Presence of one another. This Lord, finding himself overcome with Pain, being environed with burning Coals, pitifully turned his dying Eyes towards his Master, as it were to ask him pardon that he was able to endure no more; whereat the King darting at him a fierce and severe look, as reproaching his Cowardice and Pusillanimity, with a rude and constant Voice said to him thus only: And what dost thou think I suffer, said he, am I in a Bath, am I more at ease than thou? Whereupon the other immediately quailed under the Torment, and died upon the Place. The King, half roasted, was carried thence; not so much out of pity, (for what compassion ever touched so barbarous Souls, who, upon the doubtful information of some Vessel of Gold to be made a Prey of, caused not only a Man, but a King so great in Fortune and Desert, to be broiled before their Eyes) but because his Constancy rendered their Cruelty still more shameful. They afterward hanged him, 
Afterwards hanged.  for having nobly attempted to deliver himself by Arms from so long a Captivity, where he died with a Courage becoming so Magnanimous a Prince.  
Another time they burned in the same fire, 
Indian Prisoners burned alive by the Spaniards.  four hundred and sixty men alive at once, the four hundred, of the common People, the sixty, the principal Lords of a Province; no other but mere Prisoners of War. We have these Narratives from themselves: for they do not only own it, but boast of it. Could it be for a testimony of their Justice, or their Zeal to Religion! Doubtless these are ways too differing, and contrary to so holy an end. Had they proposed to themselves to extend our Faith, they would have considered, that it does not amplify in the possession of Territories, but in the gaining of men, and would have more than satisfied themselves with the slaughters occasioned by the necessity of War, without indifferently mixing a Massacre, as upon wild Beasts, as universal as Fire and Sword could make it, having only, by their good will, saved so many as they intended to make miserable Slaves of for the Work and Service of their Mines: So that many of the Captains were put to death upon the place of Conquest, by order of the King of Castille, justly offended with the horror of their Deportments, and almost all of them hated and disesteemed. God did meritoriously permit that all this great Plunder should be swallowed up by the Sea in Transportation, or by Civil Wars, wherewith they devoured one another, and the greatest part was buried upon the Place, with out any fruit of their Victory. As to what concerns the Revenue, that being in the hands of so parsimonious and so prudent a Prince, it so little answers the expectation was given to his Predecessors of it, and that first abundance of Riches which was found at the first Landing in those new discovered Countries, (for tho' a great deal be fetched from thence, yet we see 'tis nothing in comparison of that aught to be expected) it is, that the use of Coin was there utterly unknown, and that consequently their Gold was found all hoarded together, being of no other use but for Ornament and Show, as a Furniture reserved from Father to Son, by many puissant Kings, who always drained their Mines to make this vast heap of Vessels and Statues, for the decoration of their Palaces and Temples; whereas our Gold is always in motion and Traffic: We cut ours into a thousand small pieces, and cast it into a thousand Forms, and scatter and disperse it a thousand ways. But suppose our Kings should thus hoard up all the Gold they could get in several Ages, and let it lie idle by them. Those of the Kingdom of Mexico were in some sort more civilised, and greater Artists than the other Nations that were beyond them: Therefore did they judge as we do, that the World was near its period, and looked upon the Desolation we brought amongst them for a certain Sign of it. They believed that the Existence of the World was divided into five Ages, and the Life of five successive Suns, of which four had already ended their time, and that that which gave them Light was the fifth. The first perished, with all other Creatures, by an universal Inundation of Water. The second, by the Heavens falling upon us, which suffocated every living Thing: to which Age they assign the Giants, and showed bones to the Spaniards, according to the proportion of which, the Stature of men amounted to twenty hands high. The third, by Fire, which burned and consumed all. The fourth, by an Emotion of the Air and Wind, which came with such violence as to beat down even many Mountains; wherein the men died not, but were turned into Baboons; (what impressions will not the weakness of human Belief admit?) After the death of this fourth Sun, the World was twenty five years in perpetual darkness; in the fifteenth of which, a Man and a Woman were created, that restored human Race: ten years after, upon a certain Day, the Sun appeared newly created, and since the account of their years take beginning from that day. The third day after his Creation, the ancient Gods died; and the new ones are since born daily. After what manner they think this last Sun shall perish, my Author knows not. But their number of this fourth Change agrees with the great Conjunction of Stars, that eight hundred and odd years ago, as Astrologers suppose, produced great Alterations and Novelties in the World. As to Pomp and Magnificence, upon the account of which I am engaged in this Discourse, neither Greece, Rome, nor Egypt, whether for utility, difficulty, or state, 
The magnificent Causeway betwixt Quito and Cusco.  compare any of their Works with the way to be seen in Peru, made by the Kings of the Country, from the City of Quito, to that of Cusco, (three hundred Leagues) strait, even, five and twenty Paces wide, paved, and enclosed on both sides with high and beautiful Walls; and close by them on the inside, two clear Rivulets, bordered with a beautiful sort of a Tree which they call Molly: in which Work, where they met with Rocks and Mountains, they cut them through, and made them even, and filled up Pits and Valleys with Lime and Stone to make them level. At the end of every days Journey are beautiful Palaces, furnished with Provisions, Vestments, and Arms, as well for Travellers, as for the Arms that are to pass that way. In the estimate of this Work, I have reckoned the difficulty which is particularly considerable in that Place. They did not build with any Stones less than ten foot square: and had no other conveniency of carriage, but by drawing their load themselves by force of Arms, and knew not so much as the Art of Scaffolding, nor any other way of standing to their Work, but by throwing up Earth against the Building, as it rose higher, taking it away again when they had done. Let us here return to our Coaches, instead of which, and of all other sorts of Carriages, they caused themselves to be carried by men, and upon their Shoulders. This last King of Peru, the day that he was taken, was thus carried betwixt two upon staves of Gold, and set in a Chair of Gold in the middle of his Battle. As many of these Sedan-men as were killed to make him fall, (for they would take him alive) so many others (and they contended for it) took the place of those that were slain, so that they could never beat him down, what slaughter soever they made of those People, till a Light horseman seizing upon him, brought him down.   

CHAP. VII. Of the inconvenience of Greatness.  
SInce we cannot attain unto it, let us revenge ourselves by railing at it: and yet it is not absolutely railing against any thing to proclaim its defects, because they are in all things to be found, how beautiful, or how much to be coveted however. It has in general this manifest advantage, that it can go less when it pleases, and has very near the absolute choice of both the one and the other Condition. For a man does not fall from all heights, there are several from which one may descend without falling down. It does indeed appear to me, that we value it at too high a rate, and also over value the resolution of those whom we have either seen, or heard have contemned it, or displaced themselves of their own accord. It's Essence is not so evidently commodious, that a man may not without a miracle refuse it; I find it a very hard thing to undergo Misfortunes, but to be content with a competent measure of Fortune, and to avoid Greatness, I think a very easy matter. 'Tis▪ methinks, a Virtue to which I, who am none of the nicest, could without any great endeavour arrive. What then is to be expected from them that would yet put into Consideration the glory attending this refusal, wherein there may lurk worse Ambition, than even in the desire itself, and Fruition of Greatness? Forasmuch as Ambition never comports itself better according to itself, than when it proceeds by obscure and unfrequented ways. I incite my Courage to Patience, but I rein it as much as I can towards desire. I have as much to wish for as another, and allow my Wishes as much Liberty and Indiscretion: but yet it never befell me to wish for either Empire or Royalty, for the Eminency of those high and commanding Fortunes. I do not aim that way, I love myself too well. When I think to grow greater, 'tis but very moderately, and by a compelled and timorous Advancement, such as is proper for me; in Resolution, in Prudence, in Health, in Beauty, and even in Riches too. But this supreme Reputation, and this mighty Authority oppress my Imagination. And, quite contrary to some others, I should peradventure rather choose to be the second or third in Perigourd, than the first at Paris: at least, without lying, the third, than the first at Paris. I would neither dispute, a miserable unknown, with a Noble-man's Porter, nor make Crowds open in Adoration as I pass: I am trained up to a moderate Condition, as well by my choice, as Fortune; and have made it appear in the whole Conduct of my Life and Erterprises, that I have rather avoided than otherwise, the climbing above the degree of Fortune wherein God has placed me by my Birth: all natural Constitution is equally just and easy. My Soul is so sneaking and mean, that I measure not good Fortune by the height, but by the Facility. But if my Heart be not great enough, 'tis open enough to make amends at any one's request freely to lay open its Weakness. Should any one put me upon comparing the Life of L. Thorius Balbus, a brave man, handsome, learned, healthful, understanding, and abounding in all sorts of Conveniencies and Pleasures, leading a quiet Life, and all his own, his Mind well prepared against Death, Superstition, Pains, and other Encumbrances of humane Necessity; dying at last in Battle with his Sword in his Hand, for the defence of his Country, on the one part; and on the other part, the Life of M. Regulus, so great and high as is known to every one, and his end admirable; the one without Name, and without Dignity, the other exemplary, and glorious to wonder: I should doubtless say as Cicero did, could I speak as well as he. But if I was to touch it in my own Phrase, I should then also say, that the first is as much according to my Capacity, and Desire, which I conform to my Capacity, as the second is far beyond it; that I could not approach the last but with Veneration, the other I would willingly attain by Custom. But let us return to our temporal Greatness, from which we are digressed. I disrelish all Dominion, whether active or passive. Otanes, one of the seven who had right to pretend to the Kingdom of Persia, did, 
A Sovereign Authority moved for a moderate Fortune.  as I should willingly have done; which was, that he gave up to his Concurrents his right of being promoted to it, either by Election or by Lot; provided, that he and his might live in the Empire out of all Authority and Subjection, those of the ancient Laws excepted: and might enjoy all liberty that was not prejudicial to them, as impatient of commanding, as of being commanded. 
That it is a troublesome and difficult Employment to command.  The most painful and difficult Employment in the World, in my Opinion, is worthily to discharge the Office of a King. I excuse more of their mistakes, than men commonly do, in consideration of the intolerable weight of their Function, which does astonish me. 'Tis hard to keep measure in so immeasurable a Power. Yet so it is, that it is to those who are not the best natured men, a singular incitement to Virtue, to be seated in a place where you cannot do the least good that shall not be put upon Record; and where the least benefit redounds to so many men: and where your Talon of Administration, like that of Preachers, does principally address itself to the People, no very exact Judge, easy to deceive, and easily content. There are few things wherein we can give a sincere Judgement, by reason that there are few wherein we have not in some sort a particular Interest. Superiority and Inferiority, Dominion and Subjection, are bound to a natural Envy and Contest, and must necessarily perpetually entrench upon one another. I neither believe the one nor the other touching the rights of the adverse Party; let Reason therefore, which is inflexible and without Passion, determine. 'Tis not above a Month ago that I read over two Scoth Authors contending upon this Subject; of which, he who stands for the People, makes Kings to be in a worse Condition than a Carter; and he who writes for Monarchy, places him some degrees above God-Almighty in Power and Sovereignty. 
The Inconvenience of Greatness.  Now the Inconveniency of Greatness, that I have made choice of to consider in this place, upon some occasion that has lately put it into my head, is this. There is not peradventure any thing more pleasant in the Commerce of men, than the Trials that we make against one another, out of Emulation of Honour and Valour, whether in the Exercises of the Body, or in those of the Mind; wherein the Sovereign Greatness can have no true part. And in earnest, I have often thought, that out of force of respect, men have used Princes disdainfully and injuriously in that particular. For the thing I was infinitely offended at in my Childhood, that they who exercised with me forbore to do their best, because they found me unworthy of their utmost endeavour, is what we see happen to them every day, every one finding himself unworthy to contend with them. If we discover that they have the least Passion to have the better, there is no one who will not make it his Business to give it them, and who will not rather betray his own Glory, than offend theirs; and will therein employ so much force only as is necessary to advance their Honour. What share have they then in the Engagement, wherein every one is on their side? Methinks I see those Paladins of ancient times presenting themselves to Justs, 
The Paladins.  with enchanted Arms and Bodies; Brisson running against Alexander, purposely missed his blow, and made a fault in his Career; Alexander chid him for it, but he ought to have had him whipped. Upon this consideration, Carneades said, 
Riding the great Horse the only true Exercise of the Sons of Princes.  that the Sons of Princes learned nothing right, but to ride the great Horse; by reason that in all their Exercises every one bends and yields to them: but a Horse, that is neither a Flatterer nor a Courtier, throws the Son of a King with no more remorse, than he would do that of a Porter. Homer was compelled to consent, that Venus, so sweet and delicate as she was, should be wounded at the Battle of Troy, thereby to ascribe Courage and Boldness to her; Qualities that cannot possibly be in those who are exempt from Danger. The Gods are made to be angry, to fear, to run away, to be jealous, to grieve, and to be transported with Passions, to honour them with the Virtues, that amongst us are built upon these Imperfections. Who does not participate in the hazard and difficulty, can pretend no interest in the Honour and Pleasure that are the consequents of hazardous Actions. 'Tis pity a man should be so potent that all things must give way to him. Fortune therein sets you too remote from Society, and places you in too great a Solitude. This easiness and mean facility of making all things bow under you, is an enemy to all sorts of Pleasure. This is to slide, not to go, this is to sleep, and not to live. Conceive man accompanied with Omnipotency, you throw him into an Abyss: he must beg disturbance and opposition as an alms. His Being and his Good is indigent: Their good Qualities are dead and lost; for they are not to be perceived, but by comparison, and we put them out of it: they have little knowledge of the true praise, having their Ears deafed with so continual and uniform an Approbation. Have they to do with the meanest of all their Subjects? they have no means to take any advantage of him, if he but say, 'Tis because he is my King, he thinks he has said enough to express, that he therefore suffered himself to be overcome. This Quality stifles and consumes the other true and essential Qualities: they are involved in the Royalty, and leave them nothing to recommend themselves withal, but actions that directly concern themselves, and that merely respect the function of their Place. 'Tis so much to be a King, that he only is so by being so; the strange lustre that environs him, conceals and shrowds him from us; our sight is there repelled and dissipated, being stopped and filled by this prevailing light. The Senate awarded the prize of Eloquence to Tiberius; he refused it, supposing, 
The prize of Eloquence refused by Tiberius, and why.  that though it had been just, he could derive no advantage from a Judgement so partial, and that was so little free to judge. As we give them all advantages of Honour, so do we soothe and authorise all their Vices and Defects, not only by approbation, but by imitation also. Every one of Alexander's followers carried their Heads on one side, as he did; 
Dionysius his flatterers.  and the flatterers of Dionysius ●un against one another in his presence, stumbled at, and overturned whatever was under foot, to show they were as purblind as he. Natural imperfections have sometimes also served to recommend a man to Favour. I have seen Deafness affected: and because the Master hated his Wife, Plutarch has seen his Courtiers repudiate theirs, whom they loved: And which is yet more, Uncleanness and all manner of dissolution has been in fashion; as also Disloyalty, Blasphemies, Cruelty, Heresy, Superstition, Irreligion, Effeminacy, and worse, if worse there be. And by an Example yet more dangerous than that of Mithridates' Flatterers, who, 
Those of Mithridates.  by how much their Master pretended to the honour of a good Physician, came to him to have Incisions and Cauteries made in their Limbs; for these others suffered the Soul, a more delicate and noble Part, to be cauterised. But to end where I begun: The Emperor Adrian, disputing with the Philosopher Favorinus about the interpretation of some Word: Favorinus soon yielded him the victory; for which his Friends rebuking him; You talk simply, said he, would you not have him wiser than I, who commands thirty Legions? Augustus' writ Verses against Asinius Pollio, and I, said Pollio, say nothing, for it is not prudence to write in contest with him who has power to proscribe: And he had reason; for Dionysius, because he could not equal Philoxenus in Poesy, and Plato in Discourse, condemned one to the Quarries, and sent the other to be sold for a Slave into the Island of Aegina.   

CHAP. VIII. Of the Art of Conferring.  
'TIS the custom of our Justice to condemn some for a warning to others. To condemn them for having done amiss, were folly, as Plato says, for what is done can never be undone; but 'tis to the end they may offend no more, and that others may avoid the Example of their offence: we do not correct the man we hang, we correct others by him. I do the same. My Errors are sometimes natural, incorrigible, and irremediable: but the good virtuous men do the Public in making themselves imitated, I peradventure may do the same in making my manners evaded: 


Horace, lib. ●. sa●. 4.  Nun vides albi ut malè vivat filius utque  
Barrus inops? magnum documentum, ne patriam rem  
Perdere quis velit.   

Do but observe the wealthy Albius' Son, 
Mr. Alexander Brome.   
Into what want he is by wildness run;  
See what a shabby fellow Barrus' grown,  
Barrus, the ranting'st Gallant of the Town:  
A good Instruction for young Heirs, that they  
Should not their Patrimony fool away.   Whilst I publish and accuse my own Imperfections, some one will learn to be afraid of them. The Parts that I most esteem in myself, derive more honour from decrying, than from commending my own Manners: which is the reason why I so often fall into, and so much insist upon that strain. But, when all is summed up, a man never speaks of himself without loss. A man's accusations of himself are always believed, his praises never. There may peradventure be some of my own Complexion, who better instruct me by contrariety than similitude. and more by avoiding than by imitation. The elder Cato had a regard to this sort of discipline, when he said, that the wise may learn more of fools, than fools can of the wise; and Pausanias tells us of an ancient player upon the Harp, who was wont to make his Scholars go to hear one that played very ill, who lived over against him, that they might learn to hate his discords and false measures. The horror of Cruelty more inclines me to Clemency, than any Example of Clemency could possibly do. A good Rider does not so much mend my seat, as an awkward Attorney, or a Venetian on Horseback; and a clownish way of Speaking does more reform mine, than the quaintest Dialect. The ridiculous and simple look of another, does always advertise and advise me; that which pricks, rouzes and incites much better than that which tickles. The time is now proper that we should reform backward, more by dissenting than agreeing, by differing than consent. Profiting little by good Examples, I make use of those that are ill, which also are every where to be found: I endeavour to render myself as agreeable as I see others offensive, as constant, as I see others fickle, as affable, as I see others rough, and as good as I see others evil. But I propose to myself invincible measures. The most fruitful and natural exercise of the Mind, in my opinion, is Conference; I find the use of it more sweet than of any other action of Life. And for that reason it is, that if I were now compelled to choose, I should sooner, I think, consent to lose my Sight, than my Hearing and Speech. The Athenians, and also the Romans, kept this Exercise in great honour in their Academies. The Italians retain some footsteps of it to this day to their great advantage, as is manifest by the comparison of our understandings with theirs. The study of Books is a languishing and feeble Motion, 
Conference of greater advantage than the reading of Books.  that heats not, whereas Conference teaches and exercises at once. If I confer with an understanding Man, and a rude Jester, he presses hard upon me, and wounds me on both sides; his imaginations raise up mine to more than ordinary pitch. Jealousy, Glory, and Contention, stimulate and raise me up to something above myself; and a consent of Judgement is a quality totally offensive in Conference. But, as our minds fortify themselves by the communication of vigorous and regular Understandings; 'tis not to be expressed how much they lose and degenerate by the continual commerce and frequentation we have with those are mean and low. There is no Contagion that spreads like that: I know sufficiently by Experience what 'tis worth a yard. I love to discourse and dispute, but it is but with few men, and for myself; for to do it as a Spectacle and entertainment to great Persons, and to vaunt of a man's Wit and Eloquence, is, in my opinion, very unbecoming a man of Honour. Impertinency is a scurvy Quality, but not to be able to endure it, to fret and vex at it, as I do, is another sort of disease, little inferior to Impertinence itself; and is the thing that I will now accuse in myself. I enter into Conference, and dispute with great liberty and facility, forasmuch as Opinion meets in me with a Soil very unfit for Penetration, and wherein to take any deep root: no Propositions astonish me, no belief offends me, though never so contrary to my own. There is no so frivolous and extravagant Fancy that does not seem to me suitable to the product of human Wit. We, who deprive our Judgements of the right of determining, look indifferently upon various Opinions, and if we incline not our Judgements to them, yet we easily give them the hearing. Where one Scale is totally empty, I let the other waver under old Wives dreams. And I think myself excusable, if I rather choose the odd number, Thursday, rather than Friday; and if I had rather be the twelfth or fourteenth, than the thirteenth at Table; if I had rather on a Journey see a Hare run by me than cross my way; and rather give my Man my left foot than my right, when he comes to dress me. All such whimsies as are in Use amongst us, deserve at least to be harkened unto. For my part, they only with me import inanity, but they import that. Moreover, vulgar and casual Opinions are considered as things of moment, and are indeed something more than nothing in Nature: and who will not suffer himself to proceed so far, falls peradventure into the Vice of Obstinacy, to avoid that of Superstition. The contradictions of Judgements than do neither offend nor alter, they only rouse and exercise me. We evade Correction, whereas we ought to offer and present ourselves to it, especially when it appears in the form of Conference, and not of Authority. At every opposition, we do not consider whether or no it be just, but right or wrong, how to disengage ourselves: instead of extending the Arms, we thrust out our Claws. I could suffer myself to be rudely handled by my Friend, so much as to tell me that I am a Fool, and talk I know not of what. I love stout Expressions amongst brave Men, and to have them speak as they think. We must fortify and harden our hearing against this tenderness of the ceremonious sound of Words. I love a strong and manly Familiarity and Conversation: a Friendship that flatters itself in the sharpness and vigour of its Communication; like love, in biting and scratching. It is not vigorous and generous enough, if it be not quarrelsome; if civilised and artificial, if it treads nicely, and fears the shock. 
Cicero de finib. l. 1.  Neque enim disputari sine reprehensione potest. Neither can a man dispute, but he must reprehend. When any one contradicts me, he raises my attention, not my anger: I advance towards him that controverts, that instructs me. The Cause of Truth ought to be the common Cause both of one and the other: What will he answer? The Passion of Anger has already confounded his Judgement; amazement has usurped the place of Reason. It were not amiss, that the decision of our disputes should pass by wager: that there might be a material mark of our losses, to the end we might the better remember them; and that my Man might tell me, Your Ignorance and Obstinacy cost you last year, at several times, a hundred Crowns. I embrace and caress Truth in what hand soever I find it, and cheerfully surrender myself, and my conquered arms, as far off as I can discover it: and, provided it be not too imperiously, take a pleasure in being reproved; and accommodate myself to my Accusers, very often more by reason of civility than amendment, loving to gratify and nourish the liberty of Admonition, by my facility of submitting to it. Nevertheless, it is hard to bring the men of my time to it. They have not the courage to correct, because they have not the courage to suffer themselves to be corrected; and speak always with dissimulation in the presence of one another. I take so great pleasure in being judged and known, that it is upon the matter indifferent to me in which of the two Forms I am so: My Imagination does so often contradict and condemn itself, that 'tis all one to me if another do it, especially considering that I give his reprehension no greater authority than what I will myself. But I break with him, who carries himself so high, as I know some do, that reputes his advertisement, if not believed, and takes it for an affront if it be not immediately followed. In that Socrates always received smiling the Contradictions opposed against his Arguments, a man may say his strength of Reason was the cause, and the advantage being certain to fall on his side, he accepted them as matter of new victory. Nevertheless, we see on the contrary, that nothing in Argument renders our Sentiments so delicate, as the opinion of preeminency and disdain of the Adversary; and that in Reason, 'tis rather for the weaker to take in good part the oppositions that correct him and set him right. In earnest, I rather choose the frequentation of those that ruffle me than those that fear me. 'Tis a dull and hurtful Pleasure to have to do with People who admire us, and approve of all we say. Antisthenes' commanded his Children, never to take it kindly, or for a favour from any man that commended them. I find I am much prouder of the victory I obtain over myself, when even in the ardour of dispute, I make myself submit to my Adversaries force of Reason, than I am pleased with the victory I obtain over him through his weakness. In fine, I receive and admit of all manner of attacks that are direct, how weak soever: but I am too impatient of those that are made out of Form. I care not what the Subject is, the Opinions are to me all one, and I am as indifferent whether I get the better or the worse: I can peaceably argue a whole day together, if the Argument be carried on with order. I do not so much require force and subtlety, as method. I mean the order which we every day observe in the wranglings of Shepherds and Apprentices, but never amongst us. If they start from their Subject, 'tis an incivility, and yet we do it. But their Tumult and Impatience never puts them out of their Theme. Their Argument still continues its Course. If they prevent, and do not stay for one another, they at least understand one another very well. Any one answers too well for me, if he answers what I say. But when the Dispute is irregular and perplexed, I leave the thing, and insist upon the form with Anger and Indiscretion; and fall into a wilful, malicious, and imperious way of Disputation, of which I am afterwards ashamed. 'Tis impossible to deal honestly and fairly with a Fool. My Judgement is not only corrupted under the hand of so impetuous a Master, but my Conscience also. Our Disputes ought to be interdicted, and punished as well as other verbal Crimes. What Vice do they not raise and heap up, being always governed and commanded by Passion? We first quarrel with their Reasons, and then with the men. We only learn to dispute, that we may contradict, and so every one contradicting, and being contradicted, it falls out, that the fruit of Disputation is to lose and nullify Truth; and therefore it is that Plato in his Republic prohibits this Exercise to Fools and ill bred People. To what end do you go about to inquire of him who knows nothing to purpose? A man does no injury to the Subject, when he leaves it to seek how he may defend it. I do not mean by an Artificial and Scolastick way, but by a natural one, with a sound understanding. What will it be in the end? One flies to the East, the other to the West, they lose the principal, and wander in the Crowd of Incidents. After an hour of Tempest they know not what they seek: one is low, the other high, and a third wide. One catches at a word and a simile; another is no longer sensible of what is said in Opposition to him, and thinks of going on at his own rate, not of answering you. Another, finding himself too weak to make good his rest, fears all, refuses all, and at the very beginning confounds the Subject; or in the very height of the dispute stops short, and grows silent: by a peevish ignorance affecting a proud contempt; or by an unseasonable modesty shuns any further debate. Provided that this strikes, he cares not how much he lays himself open; the other counts his Words, and weighs them for Reasons. Another only brawls, and makes use of the Advantage of his Lungs. Here's one that learnedly concludes against himself, and another that deafs you with Prefaces, and senseless Digressions: another falls into downright railing, and seeks a ridiculous quarrel, to disengage himself from a Wit that presses too hard upon him: And a last man sees nothing into the reason of the thing, but draws a line of Circumvallation about you of Dialectic Clauses, and the formulas of his Art. Now who would not enter into distrust of Sciences, and doubt whether he can reap from them any solid Fruit for the service of Life; considering the use we put them to? Nihil sanantibus literis. Who has got Understanding by his Logic? Where are all her fair Promises? Nec ad melius vivendum, 
Seneca.  nec ad commodius disserendum. It neither makes a man live better, nor dispute more commodiously. Is there more noise or confusion in the scolding of Fishwives, than in the public disputes of men of this Profession? I had rather my Son should learn in a Taphouse to speak, than in the School to prate. Take a Master of Arts, confer with him, Why does he not make us sensible of this artificial Excellence? Why does he not ravish Women, and Ignorants, as we are, with Admiration at the steadiness of his Reasons, and the Beauty of his Order? Why does he not sway and persuade us to what he will? Why does a man who has so great advantage in matter, mix Railing, Indiscretion, and Fury in his Disputations? Strip him of his Gown, his Hood, and his Latin; let him batter our Ears with Aristotle, who is wholly pure, and wholly believed, you will take him for one of us, or worse. Whilst they torment us with this Complication and Confusion of Words, it fares with them, methinks, as with Jugglers; their Dexterity imposes upon our Senses, but does not at all work upon our belief: this Legerdemain excepted, they perform nothing that is not very ordinary and mean. For being the more learned, they are never the less Fools. I love and honour Knowledge as much as they that have it. And in its true use, 'tis the most noble, and the greatest Acquisition of men: but in such as I speak of (and the number of them is infinite) who build their fundamental sufficiency and value upon it; who appeal from their Understanding to their Memory, 
Seneca.  sub aliena umbra latentes; and who can do nothing but by Book; I hate it, if I may dare to say so, worse than Stupidity itself. In my Country, and in my time, Learning improves Fortunes enough, but not Minds. If it meet with those that are dull and heavy, it overcharges and suffocates them, leaving them a crude and undigested mass: if airy and fine, it purifies, clarifies, and subtilizes them, even to Exinanition. 'Tis a thing of almost indifferent quality; a very useful accession to a well born Soul, but hurtful and pernicious to others: or rather, a thing of very precious use, that will not suffer itself to be purchased at an under rate. In the hand of some 'tis a Sceptre, in that of others a Fool's Bauble. But let us proceed. What greater Victory can you expect, than to make your Enemy see and know that he is not able to encounter you? When you get the better of your Argument, 'tis Truth▪ that wins; when you get the Advantage of Fame and Method, 'tis then you that win. I am of Opinion, that in Plato and Xenophon, Socrates disputes more in favour of Disputants, than in favour of the Dispute, and more to instruct Euthydemus and Protagoras in the knowledge of their Impertinence, than in the Impertinence of their Art. He takes hold of the first Subject, like one that has a more profitable end than to explain it, namely, to clear the Understandings, that he takes upon him to instruct and exercise. To hunt after Truth is properly our business, and we are inexcusable if we carry on the Chase impertinently and ill: to fail of seizing it, is another thing. For we are born to inquire after Truth, it belongs to a greater power to possess it. It is not, as Democritus said, hid in the bottom of the Deeps; but rather elevated to an infinite height in the Divine knowledge. The World is but a School of Inquisition. It is not who shall carry the Ring, but who shall run the best Courses. He may as well play the fool who speaks true, as he that speaks false▪ for we are upon the manner, not the matter of speaking. 'Tis my humour, as much to regard the form as the substance, and the Advocates, as much as the Cause; as Alcibiades ordered we should: and every day pass away my time in reading Authors, without any consideration of their Learning; their Method is what I look after, not their Subject; how, not what they write: And just so do I hunt after the conversation of any eminent Wit, not that he may teach me, but that I may know him; and that being acquainted, if I think him worthy of imitation, I may imitate him. Every man may speak truly, but methodically, and prudently, and fully, is a talon that few men have. The falsity also that proceeds from Ignorance does not offend me, but the foppery of it. I have broken off several Treaties that would have been of advantage to me, by reason of the impertinence of those with whom I treated. I am not moved once in a year at the faults of those over whom I have authority; but upon the account of the ridiculous obstinacy of their Excuses, we are every day going together by the ears: They neither understand what is said, nor why, and answer accordingly, which would make a man mad. I never feel any hurt upon my Head, but when 'tis knocked against another, and more easily forgive the Vices of my Servants, than their boldness, importunity, and folly. Let them do less, provided they understand what they do. You live in hopes to warm their affection to your Service; but there is nothing to be had, or to be hoped for from a stock. But what if I take things otherwise than they are? perhaps I do: and therefore it is that I accuse my own impatience; and hold in the first place, that it is equally vicious both in him that is in the right, and him that is in the wrong; for 'tis always a tyrannic soureness, not to endure a form contrary to ones own: and besides, there cannot in truth be a greater, more constant, nor more irregular folly, than to be moved and angry at the follies of the World; for it principally makes us quarrel with ourselves, and the old Philosopher never wanted occasion for his tears, whilst he considered himself. Miso, 
Heraclitus.  one of the seven Sages, of a Timonian and Democritick humour, being asked, what he laughed at, being alone? That I do laugh alone, answered he. How many ridiculous things, in my own opinion, do I say, and answer every day that comes over my head? and then how many more, according to the opinion of others? If I by't my own Lips, what ought others to do? In fine, we must live amongst the living, and let the River run under the Bridge, without care, or, at least, without our alteration. To speak the truth, why do we meet a man with a hulch back, or any other deformity, without being moved, and cannot endure the encounter of a deformed mind without being angry? This vicious sourness relishes more of the Judge than the Crime. Let us always have this saying of Plato in our mouths; Do not I think things unsound, because I am not sound myself? Am I not myself in fault? may not my observation reflect upon myself? A wise and divine saying, that lashes the most universal and common Error of mankind; not only the Reproaches that we throw in the faces of one another, but our Reasons also, our Arguments and Controversies are reboundable upon us, and we wound ourselves with our own weapons. Of which, Antiquity has left me enough grave Examples. It was ingeniously, and home said, by him who was the inventor of this Sentence; Stercus cuique suum bene olet. We see nothing behind us. 
Erasm. Adag.  We mock ourselves an hundred times a day, when we deride our Neighbour, and detest in others the Defects which are more manifest in us, and admire them with a marvellous inadvertency and impudence. It was but yesterday, that I saw a man of understanding, as pleasantly as justly scoffing at the folly of another, who did nothing but torment every body with the Catalogue of his Genealogy and Alliances, above half of them false, (for they are most apt to fall into such ridiculous Discourses, whose Qualities are most dubious, and least sure;) and yet, would he have looked into himself, he would have discerned himself to be no less intemperate and impertinent, in extolling hi● Wife's Pedigree. Oh importunate presumption, with which the Wife sees herself armed by the hands of her own Husband! Did he understand Latin, we should say to him, 

Age, si haec non insanit satis sua sponte, instiga. 
Teren. And. Act. 4. sc. 2.    

If of herself she be not mad enough,  
Faith, urge her on unto the utmost proof.   I do not say, that no man should accuse who is not clean himself, for then no one would ever accuse, because none is absolutely clean from the same sort of spot; but I mean, that our Judgement, falling upon another whose name is then in question, does not at the same time spare ourselves, but sentences us with an inward and severe authority. 'Tis an office of Charity, that he who cannot reclaim himself from a Vice, should nevertheless endeavour to remove it from another, in whom peradventure it may not have so deep and so malignant a root. Neither do I think it an answer to the purpose, to tell him, who reproves me for my fault, that he himself is guilty of the same. What by that? The reproof is notwithstanding true, and of very good use. Had we a good Nose, our own ordure would stink worse to us, forasmuch as it is our own. And Socrates is of opinion, that whoever should find himself, his Son, and a stranger guilty of any violence and wrong, aught to begin with himself, to present himself first to the Sentence of Justice, and implore, to purge himself, the assistance of the hand of the Executioner; in the next place he should proceed to his Son, and lastly, to the Stranger. If this Precept seem too severe, he ought at least to present himself the first to the Punishment of his own Conscience. The Senses are our proper and first Judges, which perceive not things but by external Accidents; and 'tis no wonder, if in all the parts of the Service of our Society, there is so perpetual and universal a mixture of Ceremonies, and superficial Apparences; insomuch that the best and most effectual part of our Policies do therein consist: 'Tis still man with whom we have to do, of whom the Condition is wonderfully Corporal. Let those, who of these late years would erect for us such a contemplative and immaterial an Exercise of Religion, not wonder if there be some who think it had vanished and melted through their Fingers, had it not more upheld itself amongst us as a Mark, Title, and Instrument of Division and Faction, than by itself. As in Conference, the Gravity, Robes, and Fortune of him that speaks, ofttimes gives Reputation to vain Arguments and idle Words; it is not to be presumed, but that a man so attended and feared, has in him more than ordinary Sufficiency; and that he to whom the King has given so many Offices and Commissions, so supercilious and proud, has not a great deal more in him, than another that salutes him at so great a distance, and who has no Employment at all. Not only the Words, but the sour looks also of these People are considered and recorded; every one making it his Business to give them some fine and solid Interpretation. If they stoop to common Conference, and that you offer any thing but Approbation and Reverence, they then knock you down with the Authority of their Experience; they have heard, they have seen, they have done so and so, you are crushed with Examples. I should tell them, that the Fruit of a Surgeon's Experience, is not the History of his Practices, and his remembering that he has cured four People of the Plague, and three of the Gout, unless he knows how from hence to extract something whereon to form his Judgement, and to make us sensible that he is become more skilful in his Art. As in a Consort of Instruments, we do not hear a Lute, a Harpsical, or a Flute alone, but one entire Harmony of all together. If Travel and Offices have improved them, 'tis a product of their Understanding to make it appear. 'Tis not enough to reckon Experiments, they must weigh and sort them, digest and distil them, to extract the Reasons and Conclusions they carry along with them. There were never so many Historians. It is indeed good, and of use to read them; for they furnish us every where with excellent and laudable Instructions from the Magazine of their Memory, which doubtless is of great concern to the relief of Life; but 'tis not that we seek for now: we examine whether these Relators and Collectors of things are commendable themselves. I hate all sorts of Tyranny, whether Verbal or Effectual. I am very ready to oppose myself against these vain Circumstances that delude our Judgements by the Senses; and whilst I lie upon my Guard from these extraordinary Grandeurs, I find, that at best, they are but Men, as others are; 


Juven. Sat. 8.  Rarus enim firme Sensus communis in illa Fortuna.   


Sir Robert Stapleton.  For 'tis rare  
If mighty Fortune's common Sense can share.   Peradventure we esteem and look upon them for less than they are, by reason they undertake more, and more expose themselves; they do not answer the charge they have undertaken. There must be more Vigour and Strength in the Bearer, than the Burden; he who has not lifted as much as he can, leaves you to guess, that he has still a Strength beyond that; and that he has not been tried to the utmost of what he is able to do; He who sinks under his load, makes a discovery of his best, and the weakness of his Shoulders. This is the reason that we see so many silly Souls amongst the Learned, and more than those of the better sort: they would have made good Husbandmen, good Merchants, and good Artisans: their natural vigour was cut out to that proportion. Knowledge is a thing of great weight, they faint under it: their Understanding has neither vigour nor dexterity enough to set forth and distribute, to employ, or make use of this rich and powerful matter. It has no prevailing virtue but in a strong Nature; and such Natures are very rare. And the weak ones, says Socrates, spoil the dignity of Philosophy in the handling. It appears useless and vicious, when lodged in an ill contrived mind. They spoil and make fools of themselves. 

Humani qualis simulator simius oris,  
Quem puer arridens, 
Claudian.  pretioso stamine serum  
Velavet, nudasque nates, ac terga reliquit  
Ludibrium mensis.   

Just like an Ape, that in his face does bear  
Of man the counterfeited Character,  
Whom wanton Boys to Table laughter move,  
Have dizened up in richest silks above,  
And, the Ape more ridiculous to show,  
The raw, bald buttocks naked left below.   Neither is it enough for those who govern and command us, and have all the World in their hands, to have a common understanding, and to be able to do the same that we can. They are very much below us, if they be not infinitely above us. As they promise more, so they are to perform more; and yet silence is to them not only a countenance of respect and gravity, but very often of good husbandry too: for Megabysus, going to see Apelles in his painting room, stood a great while without speaking a word, and at last began to talk of his Paintings; for which he received this rude reproof; Whilst than wast silent, thou seemd'st to be some extraordinary Person, by reason of thy Chains and rich Habit, but now that we have heard thee speak, there is not the meanest Boy in my Shop that does not despise thee. Those Princely Ornaments and that mighty state, did not permit him to be ignorant with a common ignorance, and to speak impertinently of Painting; he ought to have kept this external and presumptive knowledge silent. To how many Puppies of my time has a sullen and silent fashion procured the opinion of Prudence and Capacity? 
Dignities more distributed by Fortune, than Merit.  Dignities and Offices are of necessity conferred more by Fortune than upon the account of Merit, and we are oft too blame, to condemn Kings when they are misplaced. On the contrary, 'tis a wonder they should have so good luck where there is so little skill; 


Martial.  Principis est virtus maxima, nosse suos.   

There's of a Prince's Virtues none  
So great, as that he know his own.   For Nature has not given them a sight that can extend to so many People, to discern which excels the rest, nor to penetrate into our Bosoms, where the knowledge of our Wills and best value lies. They must choose us by conjecture and by groping; by the Family, Wealth, Learning, and the Voice of the People, which are all very feeble Arguments. Whoever could find out a way that a man might judge by Justice, and choose men by Reason, would in one thing establish a perfect Form of Government. Ay, but he brought this great Affair to a very good pass. That is indeed to say something, but not to say enough. For this Sentence is justly received, That we are not to judge of Counsels by Events. The Carthaginians punished the ill Counsels of their Captains, though the Issue was successful; and the People of Rome have oft denied a Triumph for great and very advantageous Victories, because the Conduct of the General was not answerable to his good fortune. We ordinarily▪ see in the actions of the World, that Fortune, to show us her power in all things, and that she takes a pride to abate our Presumption, seeing she could not make Fools wise, she has made them fortunate, in envy of Virtue; and does most favour those Executions, the Web of which is most purely her own. Whence it is, that we daily see the simplest amongst us bring to pass great Business, both public and private. And, as Syrannez the Persian answered those who wondered that his Affairs succeeded so ill, considering that his Deliberations were so wise, that he was sole Master of his Designs, but that the Success was wholly in the power of Fortune. These may answer the same, but with a contrary Bias, Most worldly Affairs are governed and performed by her. 
Virg. Aeneid. l. 3.  Fata viam inveniunt. The Event does often justify a very foolish Conduct. Our interposition is nothing more than as it were a running on by rote, and more commonly a Consideration of Custom and Example, than of Reason. Being astonished at the Greatness of the Execution, I have formerly been acquainted with their Motives and Address, by those who had performed it, and have found nothing in it, but very ordinary Counsels; and the most vulgar and useful are also perhaps the most sure and convenient for practice, if not for show. And what if the plainest Reasons are the best seated? the meanest, lowest, and most beaten more adapted to Affairs? 
How the Authority of the Counsels of Kings is to be preserved.  To maintain the Authority of the Counsels of Kings, 'tis not fit that profane Persons should participate of them, or see further into them than the outmost Barr. He that will husband his Reputation, must be reverenced upon Credit, and taken all together. My Consultation gives the first lines to the Matter, and considers it lightly by the first face it presents: the stress and main of the Business I have still referred to Heaven: 
Hor. l. 1. Ode. 9  Permit divis caetera. good and ill Fortune are in my Opinion two Sovereign Powers. 'Tis Folly to think that humane Prudence can play the part of Fortune; and vain is his attempt, who presumes to comprehend Causes and Consequences, and by the hand to conduct the progress of his design; and most especially vain in the Deliberations of War. There was never greater Circumspection and Military Prudence, than sometimes is seen amongst us: can it be that men are afraid to lose themselves by the way, that they reserve themselves to the end of the Game? I do moreover affirm, that our Wisdom itself, and wisest Consultations, for the most part commit themselves to the Conduct of Chance. My Will and my Reason is sometimes moved by one Breath, and sometimes by another; and many of these movements there are, that govern themselves without me: my Reason has uncertain and casual agitations and impulsions. 

Vertuntur species animorum, 
Virg. Georg. lib. 1.  & pectora motus  
Nunc alios, alios dum nubila ventus agebat Concipiunt.   

Their thoughts are changed, 
Mr. Ogilby.  the motions of their mind,  
Inconstant are, like Clouds before the Wind.   Let a man but observe who are of greatest Authority in Cities, and who best do their own business, we shall find that they are commonly men of the least Parts: Women, Children, and madmen have had the fortune to govern great Kingdoms equally well with the wisest Princes: and Thucydides says, that the stupid more frequently do it than those of better understandings. We attribute the effects of their good fortune to their Prudence. 

Vt quisque fortuna utitur,  

Plaut. Pherd.  Ita praecellet; atque exinde sapere illum omnes dicimus.   

Men, as they husband their Estates, we prise,  
And who are rich, are still reputed wise.   Wherefore I say, that in all sorts of Fortune Events are a very poor testimony of our worth and Parts. Now I was upon this point, that there needs no more, but to see a man promoted to Dignity, though we knew him but three days before a man of no regard; yet an image of Grandeur, and some extraordinary Parts insensibly steals into our opinion, and we persuade ourselves, that being augmented in Reputation and Attendants, he is also increased in Merit. We judge of him not according to his value, but as we do by Counters, according to the prerogative of his Place. If it happen so that he fall again, and be mixed with the common crowd, every one inquires with admiration into the cause of his having been raised so high. Is it he? say they, could he make no better provision for himself when he was in place? Do Princes satisfy themselves with so little? Really we were in good hands. This is a thing that I have often seen in my time. Nay, so much as the very disguises of Grandeurs represented in our Comedies, does in some sort move and deceive us. That which I myself adore in Kings, is, the Crowd of their Adorers. All Reverence and Submission is due to them, except that of the Understanding: my Reason is not obliged to bow and bend, my Knees are. Melanthius being asked, what he thought of the Tragedy of Dionysius? I could not see't, said he, it was so clouded with Language: so the most of those who judge of the Discourses of great men, aught to say, I did not understand his words, he was so clouded with Gravity, Majesty, and Greatness. Antisthenes', one day entreated the Athenians to give order that their Asses might as well be employed in tilling the ground as the Horses were: To which it was answered, that those Animals were not destined for such a service: That's all one, replied he, it only sticks at your command: for the most ignorant and incapable men you employ in your Commands of War, immediately become worthy enough because you employ them. To which, the Custom of so many People who Canonize the Kings they have chosen out of their own Body, and are not content only to honour, but adore them, comes very near. 
Deification and Adoration of the Kings of Mexico.  Those of Mexico, after the Ceremonies of his Coronation, dare no more presume to look him in the face; but, as if they had deified him by his Royalty, amongst the Oaths they make him take to maintain their Religion and Laws, to be valiant, just, and mild, he moreover swears to make the Sun run his Course in his wont Light, to drain the Clouds at a fit Season, to confine Rivers within their Channels, and to cause all things necessary for his People to be landed upon the Earth. I differ from this common fashion, and am more apt to suspect his Capacity, when I see it accompanied with that grandeur of Fortune and public Applause. We are to consider, of what advantage it is to speak when he pleases, to choose the Subject he will speak of, to interrupt or change other men's Arguments with a Magisterial Authority; to protect himself from the oppositions of others by a nod, a smile, or silence, in the presence of an Assembly that trembles with reverence and respect. A man of a prodigious Fortune, coming to give his Judgement upon some slight Dispute that was foolishly set on foot at his Table, begun in these words, It can be no other but a Liar or a Fool, that will say otherwise than so and so. Pursue this philosophical Point with a Dagger in your hand. There is another Observation I have made, from which I draw great advantage; which is, that in Conferences and Disputes, every word that seems to be good is not immediately to be accepted. Most men are rich in borrowed Sentences, without understanding the force of them themselves. That a man does not perfectly understand all he borrows, may perhaps be verified in myself. A man must not always presently yield, what truth or beauty soever may seem to be in the Argument. Either a man must stoutly oppose it, or retire, under colour of not understanding it, to try on all parts how it is lodged in the Author. It may happen that we may run upon the point, and meet the truth that we could not otherwise reach. I have sometimes, in the necessity and heat of the Combat, made falsifies that have gone through and through, beyond my expectation and design. I only gave them in number, they were received in weight. As when I contend with a vigorous man, I please myself with anticipating his conclusions, I ease him of the trouble of explaining himself; I strive to prevent his Imagination, whilst it is yet springing and imperfect: the Order and Pertinency of his Understanding, warns and threatens me afar off: I deal quite contrary with these; I must understand, and presuppose nothing but by them. If they determine in general words, this is good, that is naught, and that they happen to be in the right, see if it be not Fortune that hits it off for them. Let them a little circumscribe and limit their Judgement, why, or how it is so. These universal Judgements, that I see so common, signify nothing. These are men that salute a whole People in a crowd together; They who have a real acquaintance, take notice of, and salute them particularly and by name. But 'tis a hazardous Attempt; and from which I have more than every day seen it fall out, that weak Understandings, having a mind to appear ingenious, in taking notice, as they read a Book, of that is best, and most to be admired, fix their admiration upon something so very ill chosen, that instead of making us discern the excellency of the Author, they make us see their own ignorance. This exclamation is safe enough, This is fine, after having heard a whole Page of Virgil: and by that the cunning sort of Fools save themselves. But to undertake to follow him line by line, and with an expert and approved judgement, to observe where a good Author excels himself, weighing the Words, Phrases, Inventions and various Excellencies, one after another; 
Cic. Offic. lib. 1.  take heed of that, Videndum est, non modo, quid quisque loquatur, sed etiam, quid quisque sentiat, atque etiam qua de causa quisque sentiat. A man is not only to examine what every one says, but also what every one thinks, and for what reason every one thinks. I every day hear Coxcombs say things that are not foolish: They say a good thing, let us examine how far they understand it, whence they have it, and what they mean by it. We help them to make use of this fine Expression, of this fine Sentence, which is none of theirs, they only have it in keeping; they have spit it out at a venture, we bring it for them into credit and esteem. You take them by the hand when you see them falling. To what purpose? They do not think themselves obliged to you for it, and become more fools still. Never take their part, let them alone; they will handle the matter like People who are afraid of burning their fingers, they neither dare change its seat nor light, nor break into it, shake it never so little, it slips through their fingers; they give up their cause, be it never so strong, or good however. These are fine Arms, but ill hasted. How many times have I seen the experience? Now if you come to explain any thing to them, and to confirm them, they presently catch at it, and presently rob you of the advantage of your interpretation; It was what I was about to say; it was just my conceit, and if I did not express it so, it was for want of Language. Very pretty! Malice itself must be employed to correct this proud Ignorance. Hegias his Doctrine, that we are neither to hate, nor accuse, but instruct, has reason elsewhere; But here 'tis injustice and inhumanity, to relieve and set him right who stands in no need on't, and is the worse for't. I love to let them step deeper into the dirt; and so deep, that if it be possible, they may at last discern their error. 
Folly not to be cured by Admonition.  Folly and absurdity are not to be cured by bare Admonition. And what Cyrus answered to him, who importuned him to harangue his Army, upon the point of Battle, that men do not become valiant and warlike upon a sudden, by a fine Oration, no more than a man becomes a good Musician by hearing a fine Song, may properly be said of such an Admonition as this. These are Apprenticeships that are to be served beforehand, by a long and continued Education. We owe this care, and this assiduity of Correction and Instruction to our own; but to go preach to the first passer by, and to Lord it over the Ignorance and Folly of the first we meet, is a thing that I abhor. I rarely do it, even in particular conferences, and rather surrender my cause, than proceed to these supercilious and magisterial instructions. My humour is unfit either to speak or write for Beginner; but for things that are said in common Discourse, or amongst other things▪ I never oppose them, either by word or sign, how false or absurd soever. As to the rest, nothing vexes me so ill in Folly, as that it pleases itself more than any Reason can reasonably please itself. 'Tis ill luck, that Prudence forbids us to satisfy and trust in ourselves, and always dismisses us timorous and discontent; whereas Obstinacy and Temerity fill those who are possessed with them with joy and assurance. 'Tis for the ignorant to look at other men over the shoulder, always returning from the combat full of Joy and Triumph. And moreover, for the most part, this arrogancy of Speech and gaiety of Countenance gives them the better of it in the opinion of the Audience, which is commonly ignorant, and incapable of well judging and discerning the real advantage. Obstinacy of Opinion, 
Obstinacy a testimony of Folly.  and heat in Argument are the surest proofs of Folly. Is there any thing so assured, resolute, disdainful, contemplative, serious and grave as an Ass? may we not mix with the title of Conference and Communication, the quick and sharp Repartees which Mirth and Familiarity introduces amongst Friends, pleasantly and wittily jesting with one another? An exercise for which my natural gaiety renders me fit enough; which, if it be not too long and serious, as the other I spoke of but now, 'tis no less smart and ingenious, nor of less utility, as Lycurgus thought. For my part, I contribute to it more Liberty than Wit, and have therein more of Luck than Invention; but I am perfect in suffering, for I endure a Revenge, that is not only tart, but indiscreet to boot, without being moved at all. And whoever attaques me, if I have not a brisk answer immediately ready, I do not study to pursue the Point with a tedious and impertinent Contest, bordering upon Obstinacy, but let it pass, and defer my revenge to another, and some better time. There is no Merchant that always gets. Most men change their Countenance and their Voice where their Wits fail, and by an unseasonable Indignation, instead of revenging themselves, accuse at once their own Folly and Impatience. In this Jollity we sometimes pinch the private strings of our Imperfection, which, at another time, when more temperate, we cannot touch without offence, and profitably give one another a hint of our Defects. There are other Sports of Hand, rude and indiscreet, after the French manner, that I mortally hate; my skin is very tender and sensible: I have in my time seen two Princes of the Blood Interred upon that very account. 'Tis unhandsome to fall out, and fight in play. As to the rest, when I have a mind to judge of any one, I ask him how much he is contented with himself, to what degree his speaking or his work pleases him. I will none of these fine excuses, I did it only in sport: 


Ovid. Trist. lib. 1. El. 6.  Ablatum mediis opus est incudibus istud.   

This Work unfinished from the Anvil came.   I was not an hour about it: I have never revised it since. Well then, say I, lay these aside, and give a perfect one, such a one as you would be measured by: And then, what do you think is the best thing in your Work? Is it this part or that? the Grace, or the Matter, the Invention, the Judgement, or the Learning? For I find that men are commonly as wide of the mark in judging of their own Works, as those of others; not only by reason of the kindness they have for them, but for want of capacity to know and distinguish them. The Work, by its own Force and fortune, may second the Workman, and sometimes outstrip him, beyond his Invention and Knowledge. For my part, I do not judge of the value of other men's Works more obscurely than of my own; and prise my Essays now high, now low, with great doubt and inconstancy. There are several Books that are useful upon the account of their Subjects, from which the Author derives no praise; and good Books, as well as good Works, that shame the Workman. I may write the manner of our Feasts, and the fashion of our clothes, and may write them ill; I may publish the Edicts of my time, and the Letters of Princes that pass from hand to hand; I may make an Abridgement of a good Book, (and every Abridgement upon a good Book is a foolish Abridgement) which Book shall come to be lost, and the like. 
The Epitomizing of Books a foolish undertaking, and without honour to the Undertaker.  Posterity will derive a singular utility from such Compositions: but what honour shall I have, unless by great good fortune? A great part of the most famous Books are in this condition. When I read Philip de Commines, several years ago, doubtless a very good Author, I there took notice of this for no vulgar saying, That a man must have a care of doing his Master so great service, till at last he will not know how to give him his just reward. I ought to commend the Invention, not him, because I met with it in Tacitus not long since: 
Tacit. Ann. lib. 4.  Beneficia eo usque laeta sunt, dum videntur exolvi posse, ubi multum antevenere, pro gratia odium redditur. Benefits are so far acceptable, as they are in a capacity of being returned; but once exceeding that, hatred is returned instead of thanks. And Seneca boldly says, 
Sen. Ep. 81.  Nam qui putat esse turpe non reddere, non vult esse cui reddat. For he who thinks it a shame not to requite, would not have that man live to whom he owes return. Q. Cicero says more faintly, Qui se non putat satisfacere, amicus esse nullo modo potest. Who thinks himself behind hand in obligation, can by no means be a friend. The Subject, according to what it is, may make a man looked upon as Learned, and of good memory, but to judge in him the Parts that are most his own, and the most worthy, the vigour and beauty of his Soul; a man must first know what is his own, and what is not; and in that which is not his own, how much we are obliged to him for the Choice, Disposition, Ornament, and Language he has there presented us with. What if he has borrowed the matter, and spoiled the form? as it oft falls out; we who are little read in Books are in this strait, that when we meet with a great Fancy in some new Poet, or some strong Argument in a Preacher, we dare not nevertheless commend it, till we have first informed ourselves of some learned man, if it be his own, or borrowed from some other; until that, I always stand upon my Guard. I came lately from reading the History of Tacitus quite through, without interrupting it with any thing else; (which but seldom happens with me, it being twenty years since I have stuck to any one Book an hour together,) and I did it at the instance of a Gentleman for whom France has a great esteem, as well for his own particular Worth, as upon the account of a constant form of Capacity and Virtue, which runs through a great many Brothers of them. I do not know any Author that in a public Narration, mixes so much Consideration of Manners, and particular Inclinations. And I am of a quite contrary Opinion to him, 
The Character of Tacitus.  which is, that being especially to follow the Lives of the Emperors of his time, so various and extreme in all sorts of forms, and so many notable Actions as their Cruelty particularly produced in their Subjects, he had a stronger and more attracting matter to treat of, than if he had been to describe Battles, and universal Commotions: so that I oft find him sterile, running over those brave Deaths, as if he feared to trouble us with their multitude and length. This form of Histories is by much the most useful: public Commotions depend most upon the Conduct of Fortune, private ones upon our own. 'Tis rather a Judgement, than a Deduction of History; there are in it more Precepts than Stories: it is not a Book to read, 'tis a Book to study and learn; 'tis so full of Sentences, that right or wrong, they are there in muster: 'tis a Nursery of Ethics and politic Discourses, for the Use and Ornament of those who have any place in the Government of the World. He always pleads by strong and solid Reasons, after a tart and subtle manner, according to the affected style of that Age; and was so in love with a sound style, that where quickness and subtlety was wanting in things, he supplied them with lofty and swelling words. It is not much unlike the style of Seneca. I look upon Tacitus, as more sinewy, and Seneca more sharp. His Pen seems most proper for a troubled and sick Estate, as ours at present is; you would often say, that he deciphers and girds at us. They who doubt of his Fidelity, sufficiently accuse themselves of being his Enemy upon some other account. His Opinions are sound, and lean for the most part towards the Roman Affairs: And yet I am angry at him, for judging more severely of Pompey, than suited with the Opinion of those worthy men that lived in the same time, and treated with him; and to have reputed him equal with Marius and Sylla, excepting that he was more close. Other Writers have not acquitted his intention in the government of Affairs, from ambition nor revenge; and even his Friends were afraid that his Victory would have transported him beyond the bounds of Reason, but not to so immeasurable a degree: there is nothing in his Life that has threatened us with so express Cruelty and Tyranny. Neither ought we to proportion Suspicion to Evidence; and that makes me that I do not believe his Narratives to be ingenious and true; but that he might add a little in this very thing, that they are not always applied to the Conclusions of his Judgements, which he follows according to the Inclination he has taken, very often beyond the Subject he treats of, which he will not design to look upon with so much as one glance of Favour. He needs no excuse, for having approved the Religion of his time, according as the Laws enjoined, and to have been ignorant of the true; this was his Misfortune, not his Fault. I have principally considered his Judgement, and am not very well satisfied throughout; as these Words in the Letter, 
Tiberius' his trouble of Conscience about the Religion of his time.  that Tiberius, being old and sick, sent to the Senate. What shall I write to you, Sirs, or how should I write to you, or what should I not write to you at this time? May the Gods and the Goddesses lay a worse Punishment upon me, than I am every day tormented with, if I know. I do not see why he should so positively apply them to the sharp Remorses that tormented the Conscience of Tiberius: at least, when I was in the same Condition, I perceived no such thing. And this also seemed to me a little mean in him, that being to say, that he had borne honourable Offices in Rome, he excuses himself, that he does not speak it out of Ostentation: this seems a little too mean for such a Soul as his; for, not to speak roundly of a man's self, implies some want of Courage; a rough and lofty Judgement, and that judges sound and surely, makes use of his own Example upon all Occasions, as well as those of others, and giveth Evidence as freely of himself, as of a third Person: we are to pass by these common Rules of Civility in favour of Truth, and Liberty. I dare not only speak of myself, but speak only of myself. When I write of any thing else, I miss my way, and wander from my Subject; yet am I not so indiscreetly enamoured of myself, that I cannot distinguish and consider myself apart, as I do a Neighbour, or a Tree. 'Tis equally a Fault, not to discern how far a man's worth extends, and to say more than a man discovers in himself. We owe more love to God, than to our selves, and know him less; and yet speak of him as much as we will. If the writings of Tacitus relate any thing true of his Qualities, he was a great man, upright and bold, not of a superstitious, but a philosophical and generous Virtue. A man may think him a little too bold in his Relations; as where he tells us, that a Soldier carrying a burden of Wood, 
A Soldier's hands perished with cold, carrying a burden of Wood  his hands were so frozen, and so stuck to the load, that they there remained closed and dead, being severed from his Arms. I always in such things submit to the authority of so great Witnesses. What he also says, that Vespasian, by the favour of the God Serapis, 
A blind Woman cured by Vespasian.  cured a blind Woman by anointing her Eyes with his spital, and I know not what other Miracles: he does it by the Example and Duty of all good Historians. He records all Events of Importance; and amongst public accidents are the common Rumours and Opinions: 'tis their part to recite common beliefs, not to regulate them: That part concerns Divines and Philosophers, who are the guides of Conscience. And therefore it was, that this Companion of his▪ and as great a man as himself, 
Quint. Curtius.  very wisely said; Equidem plura transcribo, quam credo: nam nec affirmare sustineo, de quibus dubito, nec subducere quae accepi. Truly, I set down more things than I believe, for I can neither endure to affirm things whereof I doubt, nor smother what I have heard. And this other, Haec neque affirmare, 
Livius. l. 7.  neque refellere operae pretium est: famae rerum standum est. 'Tis neither worth the while to affirm, or to refute these things, we must stand to Report. And writing in an Age wherein the belief of Prodigies began to decline, he says, he would not nevertheless forbear to insert in his Annals, and to give a relation of things received by so many worthy men, and with so great reverence of Antiquity. 'Tis very well said. Let them deliver us History, more as they receive than believe it; I, who am Monarch of the matter whereof I treat, and who am accountable to none, do not nevertheless always believe myself; I often hazard sallies of my own Wit, for which I very much suspect myself, and certain Quibbles, at which I shake my Ears; but I let them go at a venture, I see that others get Reputation by such things: 'tis not for me alone to judge. I present myself standing, and lying on my face, my back, my right side, and my left, and in all my natural Postures. Wits, though equal in force, are not always equal in taste and application. This is what my Memory has presented me in gross, and with incertainty enough. All Judgements in gross, are weak and imperfect.   

CHAP. IX. Of Vanity.  
THere is peradventure no more manifest Vanity, than to write so vainly. That which Divinity has so divinely expressed to us, aught to be carefully and continually meditated by understanding men. Who does not see that I have taken a Road, in which, incessantly and without labour I shall proceed, so long as there shall be Ink and Paper in the World? I can give no account of my Life by my Actions; Fortune has placed them too low: I must do it by my Fancies. And yet I have seen a Gentleman that only communicated his Life by the workings of his Belly: you might see in his House a show of a row of Basins of seven or eight days Excrements; that was all his Study, all his Discourse; all other talk stunk in his Nostrils. These here, but not so nauseous, are the Excrements of an old Mind, sometimes thick, sometimes thin, and always indigested; and when shall I have done representing the continual agitation and mutation of my Thoughts, as they come into my Head, seeing that Diomedes writ six thousand Books upon the sole subject of Grammar? What than aught prating to produce, since prattling, and the first beginning to speak, stuffed the World with such a horrible number of Volumes? So many words about words only. O Pythagoras, why didst not thou allay the Tempest! They accused one Galba of old for living idly; he made answer, That every one ought to give account of his actions, but not of his leisure. He was mistaken, for Justice takes Cognizance, and will have an account even of those that Glean, which is one of the laziest Employments. But there should be some restraint of Law against foolish and impertinent Scribblers, as well as against Vagabonds and idle Persons; which, if there was, both I and a hundred others would be banished the Kingdom. I do not speak this in jest: Scribbling seems to be a sign of a disordered and licentious Age. When did we write so much as since our Civil Wars? When the Romans so much, as when their Commonwealth was upon the point of Ruin? Besides that, the refining of Wits does not make People wiser in a Government: this idle Employment springs from this, that every one applies himself negligently to the duty of his vocation, and is easily debauched from it. The Corruption of the Age is made up upon the particular Contribution of every individual man. One contributes Treachery, others Injustice, Irreligion, Tyranny, Avarice and Cruelty, according as they are of Power, the weaker sort contribute Folly, Vanity, and Idleness, of which I am one. It seems as if it were the Season for vain things when the hurtful oppress us; and that in a time when doing ill is common, to do nothing but what signifies nothing is a kind of Commendation. 'Tis my comfort, that I shall be one of the last that shall be called in question; and whilst the greater Offenders are calling to account, I shall have leisure to amend: for it would, methinks, be against reason to punish little Inconveniencies, whilst we are infected with the greater. As the Physician Philotimus said to one who presented him his Finger to dress, and who he perceived, both by his Complexion and his Breath, had an Ulcer in his Lungs: Friend, said he, it is not now time to concern yourself about your finger's ends. And yet I saw, some years ago, a Person whose Name and Memory I have in very great Esteem, in the very height of our great Disorders, when there was neither Law nor Justice put in Execution, nor Magistrate that performed his Office, no more than there is now, publish I know not what pitiful Reformations, about clothes, Cookery, and long depending Suits in Law. These are amusements wherewith to feed a People that are ill used, to show that they are not totally forgot. These others do the same, who insist upon stoutly defending the Forms of Speaking, Dances, and Games, to a People totally abandoned to all sort of execrable Vices. 'Tis no time to bathe and cleanse a man's self when he is seized on by a violent Fever. 'Tis for the Spartiates only to fall to combing and curling themselves when they are just upon the point of running headlong into some extreme danger of their Life. For my part, I have yet a worse Custom, that if my Shoe go awry, I let my Shirt and my Cloak do so too, I scorn to mend myself by halves: when I am lean, I feed upon mischief; I abandon myself through despair; let myself go towards the Precipice, and, as the Saying is, Throw the Helve after the Hatchet. I am obstinate in growing worse, and think myself no more worth my own care; I am either good or ill throughout. 'Tis a favour to me, that the Desolation of this Kingdom falls out in the Desolation of my Age: I better suffer that my ills be multiplied, than if my goods had been disturbed. The words I utter in mishap, are words of spite. My Courage sets up its bristles instead of letting them down; and, contrary to others, I am more devout in good than in evil Fortune▪ according to the Precept of Xenophon, if not according to his Reason, and am more ready to turn up my Eyes to Heaven to return my thanks than to crave; I am more solicitous to improve my Health when I am well, than to restore it when I am sick. Prosperities are the same Discipline and Instruction to me, that Adversities and Persecutions are to others: as if good Fortune were a thing inconsistent with good Conscience; men never grow good, but in evil. Good Fortune is to me a singular spur to modesty and moderation. An entreaty wins, a threat checks me, favour makes me bend, fear stiffens me. Amongst humane Conditions, this is common enough, to be better pleased with strange things than our own, and to love Innovation and Change. 
Change pleasing to men.  

Ipsa dies ideo nos grato perluit haustu, 
Petronius Arbiter. Epig.   
Quod permutatis hora recurrit equis.   

The day itself with better draughts does pass, 
Spoke of a Water Hourglass▪   
Because it changes Water every Glass.   I have my share. Those who follow the other extreme of agreeing amongst themselves, to value what they have above all the rest, and to conclude no Beauty can be greater than what they see, if they are not wiser than we, are really more happy. I do not envy their Wisdom, but their good Fortune. This greedy Humour of new and unknown things helps to nourish in me the desire of Travel: but a great many more Circumstances contribute to it. I am very willing to overrun the Government of my House. There is, I confess, a kind of convenience in Commanding, though it were but in a Barn, and to be obeyed by ones Servants: But 'tis too uniform and languishing a Pleasure, and is moreover of necessity▪ mixed with a thousand vexatious Thoughts. One while the Poverty and the Oppression of your Tenants; another, quarrels amongst Neighbours; another, the trespasses they make upon you afflicts you; 


Horat. l. 3. Ode 1.  Aut verberatae grandine vineae,  
Fundusque mendax, arbore nunc aquas  
Culpante, nunc torrentia agros  
Sydera, nunc hyemes iniquas.   


Sir Richard Fanshaw.  Or Hail-smit Vines, or Years of Death,  
Sometimes the too much wet in fault,  
Sometimes the Stars that broil the Earth,  
Sometimes the Winter that was naught.   and that God scarce in six Months sends a Season, wherein your Bailiff can do his business as he should; but that if it serves the Vines, it spoils the Meadows. 


Lucret. l. 5.  Aut nimiis torret fervoribus aetherius Sol,  
Aut subiti perimunt imbres, gelidaeque pruinae,  
Flabraque ventorum violento turbine vexant.   


Mr. Creech.  The Scorching Sun, with his too busy beams,  
Burns up the Fruits, or clouds do drown with Streams;  
Or chilled by too much Snow, they soon decay;  
Or Storms blow them and all our hopes away.   To which may be added, the new and neat made shoe of the man of old, that hurts your foot; and that a Stranger does not understand how much it costs you, and what you contribute to maintain that show of Order that is seen in your Family, and that peradventure you buy too dear. I came late to the Government of a Family. They whom Nature sent into the World before me, long eased me of that trouble: so that I had already taken another bent more suitable to my Humour; 
The Government of a Family more troublesome than hard.  yet for so much as I have seen, 'tis an Employment more troublesome than hard. Whoever is capable of any thing else will easily do that. Had I a mind to be Rich, that way would seem too long; I had served my Kings, a more profitable Traffic than any other. Since I pretend to nothing but the reputation of having got nothing, as I have embezzled nothing conformably to the rest of my Life, improper either to do good or ill of any moment; and that I only desire to pass, I can do it, thanks be to God, without any great endeavour. At the worst, evermore prevent Poverty by lessening your expense: 'Tis that which I make my great concern, and doubt not but to do it before I shall be compelled. As to the rest, I have sufficiently settled my Thoughts to live upon less than I have, and live contentedly. Non aestimatione sensus, verum victu, 
Cicer●.  atque cultu, terminantur pecuniae modus. 'Tis not in the value of Possessions, but in our Diet and Clothing that our Riches are truly limited. My real need does not so wholly take up all I have, that Fortune has not whereon to fasten her teeth without biting to the quick. My Presence, as contemptible as it is, does me great Service in my domestic Affairs; I employ myself in them, but it goes against the hair, considering that I have this in my House, that though I burn my Candle at one end by myself, the other is not spared. Journeys do me no harm but only by their Expense, which is great, and more than I am well able to bear; being always wont to Travel with not only a necessary, but a handsome Equipage. I must make them so much shorter and fewer, wherein I spend but the froth, and what I have reserved for such Uses, delaying and deferring my Motion till that be ready. I will not, that the Pleasure of going abroad spoil the Pleasure of being retired at home. On the contrary, I intent they shall nourish and favour one another. Fortune has assisted me in this, that since my principal Profession in this Life, was to live at ease, and rather idly than busily; she has deprived me of the necessity of growing Rich, to provide for the multitude of my Heirs. If there be not enough for one, of that whereof I had so plentifully enough, at his peril be it. His Imprudence will not deserve that I should wish him any more. And every one, according to the Example of Photion, provides sufficiently for his Children, who so provides for them, as to leave them as much as was left him. I should by no means like of Crates his way. He left his Money in the hands of a Banker, with this Condition; that if his Children were Fools, he should then give it to them; if witty, he should then distribute it to the most Fools of the People. As if Fools, for being less capable of living without Riches, were more capable of using them. So it is, that the damage which is occasioned by my absence, seems not to deserve, so long as I am able to support it, that I should wave the occasions of diverting myself from that troublesome assistance. There is always something that goes amiss. The Affairs one while of one House and then of another will tear you to pieces. You pry into every thing too near; your Perspicacity does you hurt here as well as in other things. I steal away from occasions of vexing myself, and turn from the knowledge of things that go amiss; and yet I cannot so order it, but that every hour I justle against something or other that displeases me. And the Tricks that they most conceal from me, are those that I the soon come to know. Some there are that a man himself must help to conceal. Vain Vexations, vain sometimes, but always Vexations. The smallest and slightest Impediments are the most piercing: and as little Letters most tyre the Eyes, so do little Affairs the most disturb us. A rout of little ills more offend than one how great soever. By how much domestic Thorns are numerous and sharp, by so much they prick deeper, and without warning, easily surprising us, when least we suspect them. I am no Philosopher. Evils oppress me according to their Importance, and they import as much according to the form as the Matter; and very often more. If I have therein more Perspicacity than the Vulgar, I have also more Patience. Finally, they weigh with me, if they do not hurt me. Life is a tender thing, and easily molested. Since my Age has made me grow more pensive and morose, 
Seneca. Epist. 13.  nemo enim resistit sibi cum ceperit impelli: for no man resists himself, after he once begins to decline; for the most trivial cause imaginable, I irritate that Humour, which afterwards nourishes and exasperates itself of its own accord; attracting and heaping up matter upon matter whereon to feed. 


Prov. Lucret. l. 1.  Stillicidii casus Lapidem cavat.   

A falling drop at last will cave a Stone.   These continual trickling drops make Ulcers in me. Ordinary Inconveniences are never light, they are continual and irreparable; when they continually and inseparably spring from the concerns of good Husbandry. When I consider my Affairs at distance, and in gross, I find, because perhaps my Memory is none of the best, that they have gone on hitherto in improving beyond my Reason or Expectation. Methinks my Revenue is greater than it is; their Prosperity betrays me: But when I pry more narrowly into the Business, and see how all things go, 

Tum vero in curas Animum diducimus omnes. 
Virg. Aen. lib. 5.    

than my Breast  
Is with innumerable cares oppressed.   I have a thousand things to desire and to fear. To give them quite over is very easy for me to do: but to look after them without trouble is very hard. 'Tis a miserable thing to be in place where every thing you see employs and concerns you. And I fancy that I more cheerfully enjoy the Pleasures of another man's House, and with greater and a purer relish than those of my own. Diogenes, according to my Humour, answered him who asked him what sort of Wine he liked the best, That of another's, said he. My Father took a delight in building at Montaigne, where he was born, and in all the Government of domestic Affairs, I love to follow his Example and Rules; and shall engage those who are to succeed me, as much as in me lies, to do the same. Could I do better for him, I would; and am proud that his Will is still performing and acting by me. God forbid, that in my hands I should ever suffer any image of Life, that I am able to render to so good a Father, to fail. And whereas I have taken in hand to finish some old Foundations of Walls, and to repair some ruinous Buildings, in earnest I have done it more out of respect to his Design, than my own Satisfaction; and am angry at myself, that I have not proceeded further to finish the Foundation he has left in my House; and so much the more, because I am very likely to be the last Possessor of my Race, and to give the last hand to it. For, as to my own particular Application, neither the Pleasure of Building, which they say is so bewitching, nor Hunting, nor Gardens, nor the other Pleasures of a retired Life, can much trouble my Head. And 'tis what I am angry at myself for, as I am for all other Opinions that are incommodious to me; which I would not so much care to have vigorous and learned, as I would have them easy and convenient for Life. They are true and sound enough, if they are profitable and pleasing. Such as hear me declare my Ignorance in Husbandry, whisper in my Ear, that it is disdain, and that I neglect to know the Instruments of Husbandry, its Seasons, and Order; how they order my Vines, how they graft, and to know the names and forms of Herbs and Fruits, and the dressing the Meat by which I live, with the names and prizes of the Stuffs I wear, because I have set my Heart upon some higher Knowledge; they kill me in saying so. This is Folly, and rather Brutishness than Glory; I had rather be a good Horseman than a good Logician. 

Quin tu iliquid saltem potius quorum indiget usus, 
Virg. Eclog. 2.   
Viminibus molique paras detexere junco.   

Why rather not useful Employment find  
Thy long neglected Vines to prune and bind.   We amuse our thoughts about the general Concern, and about universal Causes and Conducts, which will very well carry on themselves without our Care; and leave our own Business at random, with the care of our own Persons, which are nearest to us, than that of any one man whatever. Now I am indeed for the most part at home; but I would be there better pleased than any where else. 

Sit meae sedes utinam senectae, 
Hor. lib. 2. Ode. 6.   
Sit modus lasso Maris, & Viarum,  
Militicaeque   

Tiber, 
Sir Thomas Hawkins.  which th' Argives built (O may)  
That be the place of my last day;  
May it my limit be of ease  
From Journeys, Warfare, and rough Seas.   I know not whether or no I shall bring it about, I could wish, that instead of some other member of his Succession, my Father had resigned to me the passionate affection he had in his old age to his Husbandry. He was happy in that he could accommodate his Desires to his Fortune, and satisfy himself with what he had. Philosophy may to much purpose condemn the meanness and sterility of my Employment, if I can once come to relish it, as he did. I am of Opinion, that the most honourable Calling is to serve the Public, and to be useful to many. 
Cicero de Amicitia.  Fructus enim ingenii, & Virtutis, omnisque praestantiae tum maximus accipitur, quum in proximum quemque confertur. We then reap the most Wit, Virtue, and all sorts of Merit, when they are conferred upon every one of our nearest Relations. For my part, I disclaim in it; partly out of Conscience, (for where I see the weight that lies upon such Employments, I perceive also the little means I have to contribute to them; and Plato, who was a Master in all sorts of Government, did not nevertheless forbear to abstain from them) and partly out of Cowardice. I content myself with enjoying the World without bustle; only to live an irreproachable Life, and such a one as many neither be a burden to myself nor to any other. Never did any man more faintly and negligently suffer himself to be governed by a third Person, than I should do, had I any one to whom to intrust myself. One of my wishes at this time should be, to have a Son in Law that knew handsomely how to cherish my old Age, and to rock it asleep; into whose hands I might deposit in sovereignty the management and use of all my Goods, that he might dispose of them as I do, and get by them what I get, provided that he on his part were truly acknowledging, and a Friend. But we live in a World where Loyalty in ones own Children is unknown. He that has the charge of my Purse upon Travel, has it purely, and without control; and he might also deceive me in reckoning. And, if he is not a Devil, I shall oblige him to deal faithfully with me by so entire a Trust. Multi fallere docuerunt, dum timent falli, 
Seneca. Epist. 3.  & aliis jus peccandi, suspicando fecerunt. Many have taught others to deceive by fearing to be deceived, and by suspecting them, have given them a just title to do ill. The most common security I take of my People is their ignorance; I never suspect any to be vicious till I have first found them so, and repose the most confidence in the younger sort, that I think are least spoiled by Example. I had rather be told at two months' end, that I have spent four hundred Crowns, than to have my Ears beaten every night with three, five, and seven: And I have been this way as little robbed as another. It is true, I am willing enough not to see it; I do in some sort in good earnest harbour a kind of perplexed, uncertain knowledge of my Money: for to a certain proportion, I am content to doubt. One must leave a little room for the Infidelity or Indiscretion of a Servant, if you have enough in gross to do your business, let the overplus of Fortune's Liberality run a little more freely at her Mercy; 'tis the Gleaners Portion. After all, I do not so much value the Fidelity of my People, as I contemn their Injury. What a mean and ridiculous thing it is for a man to study his Money, to delight a man's self with handling and telling it! 'Tis by that, that Avarice makes its approaches. Of eighteen years that I have had my Estate in my own hands, I could never prevail with myself, either to read over my Deeds, or examine my principal Affairs, which ought of Necessity to pass through my Knowledge and Inspection. 'Tis not a Philosophical disdain of worldly and transitory things, my taste is not purified to that degree, and I value them at as great a rate at least as they are worth; but 'tis in truth an inexcusable and childish Laziness and Negligence. What would I not rather do than read an Evidence? and sooner, than as a Slave to my own business, to tumble over a company of old musty Writings? or which is worse, those of another man, as so many do now a days to get Money? I have nothing dear but care and trouble, and endeavour nothing so much as to be careless and at ease. I had been much fitter, I believe, could it have been without Obligation and Servitude to have lived upon another man's Fortune than my own: And also I do not know, when I examine it nearer, whether according to my Humour, what I have to suffer from my Affairs and Servants, have not in it something more abject, troublesome, and tormenting, than there would be in serving a man better born than myself, that would govern me with a gentle rain, 
Cicero.  and a little at my own ease. Servitus Obedientia est fracti Animi, & abjecti, arbitrio carentis suo: Servitude is the Obedience of a subdued and abject Mind, wanting its own free will. Crates did worse, 
Poverty affected by Crates.  who threw himself into the liberty of Poverty, only to rid himself of the inconveniencies and care of his House. This is what I would not do, I hate Poverty equally with grief; but I could be content to change the kind of Life I live for another that was meaner and had fewer Affairs. When absent from home, I strip myself of all these thoughts, and should be less concerned for the ruin of a Tower, than I am, when present, at the fall of a Tile. My mind is easily composed at distance, but suffers as much as that of the meanest Peasant when I am in place. The reins of my Bridle being wrong put on, or a Strap flapping against my Leg, will keep me out of humour a day together. I raise my Courage well enough against inconveniencies, lift up my Eyes I cannot. Sensus, o superi, sensus. I am at home responsible for what ever goes amiss. Few Masters, I speak of those of competent Condition, such as mine (and if there be any such they are happy) can rely so much upon another, but that the greatest part of the burden will lie upon their own shoulders. This takes much from my Grace in entertaining Strangers, so that I have peradventure detained some rather out of expectation of a good Dinner, than by my own behaviour; and lose much of the Pleasure I ought to reap at my own House from the visitation and assembling of my Friends. The most ridiculous carriage of a Gentleman in his own House, is to see him bustling about the business of the House, whispering one Servant, and looking an angry look at another. It ought insensibly to slide along, and to represent an ordinary Current; and I think it equally unhandsome to talk much to their Guests of their Entertainment, whether by way of bragging or excuse. I love order and cleanliness, 

Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 5.  & cantharus, & lanx  
Ostendunt mihi me.  more than abundance, and at home have an exact regard to necessity, little to outward show. If a Footman falls to cuffs at another man's House, or that he stumble and throw a Dish before him as he is carrying it up, you only laugh and make a jest on't; you sleep whilst the Master of the House is stating a Bill of Fare with his Steward for your morrows Entertainment: I speak according as I do myself, not disesteeming nevertheless good husbandry in general, or not considering how pleasant a quiet and thrifty managery, and carried regularly on, is to some Natures. And not willing to annex my own errors and inconveniencies to the thing, nor to give Plato the lie, who looks upon it as the most pleasant Employment to every one to do his particular Affairs without wrong to another, when I Travel I have nothing to care for but myself, and the laying out my Money; which is disposed of by one single Precept. Too many things are required to the raking it together; in that I understand nothing; in spending it I understand a little, and how to give day to my Expenses, which is indeed its principal Use. But I rely too proudly upon it, which renders it unequal and difform, and moreover immoderate, in both the one and the other usage. If it makes a show, if it serve the turn, I indiscreetly let it run, and as indiscreetly tie up my Purse-strings if it does not shine and please. Whatever it be, whether Art or Nature, that imprint in us the condition of Living by the Example of others, it does us much more harm than good. We deprive ourselves of our proper Utilities, to accommodate apparences to the common Opinion. We care not so much what our Being is, as to us, and in reality, as what it is to the public Observation. Even the goods of the Mind, and Wisdom itself, seem fruitless to us, if only enjoyed by ourselves, and if it produce not itself to the view and approbation of others. There is a sort of men whose Gold runs in streams imperceptibly under ground; others expose it all in Plates and Branches, so that to the one a 
* A piece of Copper Money worth three Farthings.  Lyard is worth a Crown, and to others the contrary: the World esteeming its Use and Value, according to the show. All curious Solicitude about Riches smells of Avarice: even the very disposing of it, with a too punctual and artificial Liberality, is not worth a painful Solicitude. He that will order his Expense to just so much, makes it too pinched and narrow. The keeping or spending, are of themselves indifferent things, and receive no colour of good or ill, but according to the application of the Will. The other cause that tempts me out to these Journeys, is the difference in the present manners of our State; I could easily satisfy myself with this Corruption in reference to the public Interest, 


Juven. sat. 13.  pejoraque saecula ferri  
Temporibus, quorum sceleri non invenit ipsa  
Nomen, & à nullo posuit natura metallo.   


Sir Robert Stapleton.  'Tis the ninth Age, worse than the iron Times,  
Nature no metal hath to name our Crimes.   but not to my own. I am in particular too much oppressed. For in my Neigbourhood we are of late, by the long licence of our Civil Wars, grown old in so riotous a form of State, 

Quip, ubi fas, versum atque nefas.   


Mr. Ogilby.  Where wrong is right, and War through all the World▪  
So many shapes of Wickedness hath hurled.   that in earnest, 'tis a wonder how it can subsist▪ 


Virg. Aeneid. lib. 9  Armati terram exercent, semperque recentes  
Convectare juvat praedas, & vivere rapto.   

With Arms upon their backs they plow the Soil,  
And make't their business to subsist by Spoil.   In fine, I see by our Example, that the Society of men is maintained and held together at what price soever; in what condition soever they are placed, they will still close and stick together, both moving and in heaps; as uneven Bodies, that shuffled together without order, find of themselves a means to unite and settle, often better than they could have been disposed by Art. King Philip mustered up a Rabble of the most wicked and incorrigible Rascals he could pick out, and put them all together into a City he had caused to be built for that purpose, which bore their Name. I believe that they, even from Vices themselves, erected a Government amongst them, and a commodius and just Society. I see not one Action, or three, or an hundred, but Manners, in common and received Use, so cruel, especially in Inhumanity and Treachery, which are to me the worst of all Vices, that I have not the heart to think of them without horror; and almost as much admire as I detest them. The exercise of these notorious Villainies carry with them as great signs of vigour and force of Soul, as of error and disorder. Necessity reconciles and brings men together; and this accidental Connexion afterwards forms itself into Laws: For there have been as Savage ones as any Humane Opinion could produce, which nevertheless have maintained their Body with as much health and length of Life as any Plato or Aristotle could invent. And certainly, all these descriptions of Policies feigned by Art, are found to be ridiculous and unfit to be put in practice. These great and tedious debates about the best Form of Society, and the most commodious Rules to bind us, are debates only proper for the exercise of our Wits; as in the Arts there are several Subjects, who have their being in agitation and controversy, and have no Life but there. Such an Idea of Government might be of some value in a new World; but we take a World already made, and form to certain Customs. We do not beget it, as Pyrrha, 
The Law of Solon.  or Cadmus did. By what means soever we may have the privilege to rebuild and reform it anew, we can hardly writhe it from its wont bent, but we shall break all, Solon being asked, whether he had established the best Laws he could for the Athenians; Yes, said he, of those they have received. Varro excuses himself after the same manner, that if he were to begin to write of Religion, he would say what he believed; but being it was already received, he would write more according to Usance than Nature. Not according to Opinion, 
What is the best Government for every Nation.  but in truth and realty, the best and most excellent Government for every Nation is that under which it is maintained. Her Form and essential convenience depends upon Custom. We are apt to be displeased at the present condition; but I do nevertheless maintain, that to desire the Command of a few in a Republic, or another sort of Government in Monarchy than that already established, is both Vice and Folly. 

Aim l'estat tel que tu le vois estre, 
Pybrac aux Quadrins.   
S'il est Royal, aim la royauté,  
S'il est de peu, ou bien communauté,  
Aim l'aussi, car Dieu t'y a fait naistre.   

The Government approve, be't what it will,  
If it be Royal, then love Monarchy;  
If a Republic, yet approve it still,  
For God himself thereto subjected thee.   So writ the good Monsieur de Pybrac, 
Testimony of Monsieur de Pybrac, and Monsieur de Foix.  whom we have lately lost, a Man of so excellent a Wit, so sound Opinions, and so gentle Manners. This loss, and that at the same time we have had of Monsieur de Foix, are of so great importance to the Crown, that I do not know whether there is another couple in France worthy to supply the rooms of these two Gascons in Sincerity and Wisdom in the King's Council. They were both variously great men, and certainly, according to the Age, rare and great, each of them in the kind. But what Destiny placed them in these times, men so remote from and so disproportioned to our Corruption and intestine Tumults? Nothing presses so hard upon a State as Innovation: change only gives form to Injustice and Tyranny. When any piece is out of order, it may be propped; one may prevent and take care that the alteration and corruption natural to all things do not carry us too far from our beginnings and principles: but to undertake to found so great a mass anew, and to change the Foundations of so vast a Building, is for them to do, who to make clean, efface; who will reform particular defects by an universal Confusion, and cure Diseases by Death: Non ta● commutandarum quam evertendarum rerum cupidi. 
Cic. de Offi. lib. 2.  Not so desirous of changing, as of overthrowing things. The World is unwilling to be cured; and so impatient of any thing that presses it, that it thinks of nothing but disengaging itself at what price soever. We see by a thousand Examples, that it ordinarily cure● itself to its cost: the discharge of a present Evil is no cure, if there be not a general amendment of Condition. The Chirugeons' end is not only to eat away the dead Flesh, that is but the progress of his Cure, he has a care over and above to fill up the Wound with better and more natural Flesh, and to restore the Member to its due estate. Whoever only proposes to himself to remove that which offends him, falls short, for Good does not necessarily succeed Evils, another Evil may succeed, and a worse, as it happened to Caesar's Tutors, who brought the Republic to such a pass▪ that they had reason to repent the meddling with it. The same has since happened to several others, even down to our own Times. The French, my Contemporaries, know it well enough. All great mutations shake and disorder a State. Whoever would aim directly at a cure, and would consider of it before he begun, would be very willing to withdraw his hands from meddling in it. Pacuvius Calavius corrected the Vice of this proceeding by a notable Example. His Fellow Citizens were in mutiny against their Magistrates, he being a man of great Authority in the City of Capua, found means one day to shut up the Senators in the Palace, and calling the People together in the Market place, there told them, that the day was now come, wherein at full Liberty they might revenge themselves on the Tyrants by whom they had been so long oppressed; and who he had now all alone, and unarmed at his Mercy: advising them withal, that they should call them out one by one by Lot; and should particularly determine of every one, causing whatever should be decreed to be immediately executed; with this caution also, that they should at the same time depute some honest man in the place of him that was condemned, to the end there might be no vacancy in the Senate. They had no sooner heard the name of one Senator, but that a great cry of universal dislike was raised up against him. I see, says Pacuvius, that this must out, he is a wicked Fellow, let us look out a good one in his room; immediately there was a profound silence, every one being at a stand whom to choose. But one, more impudent than the rest, having named his man, there arose yet a greater consent of Voices against him, an hundred Imperfections being laid to his charge, and as many just reasons being presently given why he should not stand. These contradictory Humours growing hot, it fared worse with the second Senator and the third, there being as much disagreement in the Election of the new, as consent in the putting out of the old. In the end, growing weary of this bustle to no purpose, they began some one way, and some another, to steal out of the Assembly; every one carrying back this Resolution in his mind, that the oldest and best known Evil was ever more supportable than one that was new and untried. To see how miserably we are torn in pieces: for what have we not done? 

Ehu cicatricum, & sceleris pudet,  

Horat. l. 1. Ode 35.  Fratrumque: quid nos dura refugimus  
Atas? Quid intactum nefasti  
Liquimus? Vnde manus, inventus  
Metu Deorum continuit? Quibus  
Pepercit aris.   


Sir Thomas Hawkins.  Fie on our Broils, vile Acts, and Brothers fall,  
Bad Age: What Mischief do we shun at all?  
What Youth, his hand for fear of God contains?  
Or who from sacred Altars spoil refrains?   I do not presently conclude, 


Ter. Adel. Act. 4. Scen. 7.  ipsa si velit salus,  
Servare prorsus non potest hanc familiam.   

Would safetyed self its best care have,  
This Family it cannot save.   we are not however peradventure at the last gasp. The Conservation of States is a thing that in all likelihood surpasses our Understanding. A Civil Government, is, as Plato says, a mighty and puissant thing, and so hard to be dissolved, that it continues many times against mortal and intestine Diseases, against the Injury of unjust Laws, against Tyranny, the Corruption and Ignorance of Magistrates, and the Licence and Sedition of the People. We compare ourselves in all our Fortunes to what is above us, and still look towards the better: but let us measure ourselves with what is below us, there is no Condition so miserable, wherein a man may not find a thousand Examples that will administer Consolation. 'Tis our Vice that we more unwillingly look upon what is above, than willingly what is below: and Solon was used to say, that whoever would make an heap of all ills together, there is no one who would not rather choose to bear away the ills he has, than to come to an equal Division with all other men from that heap, and take with him from thence so much as would upon the dividend fall to his particular share. Our Government is indeed very sick, but there have been others sicker, without dying. The God's play at Tennis with us, and bandy us every way. Enimvero Dii nos Homines quasi pilas habent. 
Plaut.  The Stars have fatally destined the state of Rome for an Example of what they could do in this kind: 
The Estate of Rome, and its divers forms.  in it is comprised all the forms and adventures that concern a State: all that order or disorder, good or evil Fortune can do. Who then can despair of his Condition, seeing the shocks and commotions wherewith she was tumbled and tossed, and yet withstood them all? If the extent of Dominion be the Health of a State, which I by no means think it is, (and Isocrates pleases me, when he instructs Nicocles not to envy Princes who have large Dominions, but those who know how to preserve them when they fall into their hands) that of Rome was never so sound, as when it was most sick: The worst of her forms was the most fortunate. A man could hardly discern any Image of Government under the first Emperors, 
The horrible Confusion under the first Emperor.  it was the most horrible and tumultuous Confusion that can be imagined. It endured it notwithstanding, and therein continued, not only conserving a Monarchy limited within his own bounds, but so many Nations, so differing, so remote, so ill affected, so confusedly commanded, and so unjustly conquered. 

— nec gentibus ullis  

Lucan.  Commodat in populum, terrae pelagique potentem,  
Invidiam fortuna suam.   

But to no foreign Arms would Fortune yet  
Lend her own Envy against Rome so great,  
That over Nations, and mighty Kings,  
O'er Lords & Seas she stretched her Eagles-wings.   Every thing that totters does not fall. The contexture of so great a body holds by more nails than one. It holds even by its Antiquity, like old Buildings, from which the Foundations are worn away by time, without rough-cast or mortar, which yet live and support themselves by their own weight; 

nec jam validis radicibus haerens, 
Lucan. l. 1.   
Pondere tuta suo est.   

Like an old lofty Oak, 
Mr. May.  that heretofore  
Great Conquerors spoils, and sacred Trophies bore,  
Stands firm by his own weight.   moreover, it is not rightly to go to work, to discover only the flank and the graft, to judge of the Security of a place; it must be examined which way approaches can be made to it, and in what Condition the Assailant is. Few Vessels sink with their own weight, and without some exterior violence. Let us every way cast our Eyes, every thing about us totters; in all the great States both of Christendom and else where, that are known to us, if you will but look, you will there see evident threats of alteration and ruin: 

Et sua sunt illis incommoda, 
Aeneid. 11.  parque per omnes Tempestas.   

They all of them do in the mischief share,  
And the rude Tempest rages every where.   Astrologers may very well, as they do, warn us of great Revolutions, and eminent Mutations: their Prophecies are present and palpable, they need not go to Heaven to foretell this. There is not only Consolation to be extracted from this universal combination of ills and menaces, but moreover some hopes of the continuation of our State; forasmuch as naturally nothing falls, where all does. An universal Sickness is particular Health: Conformity is an Enemy to Dissolution. For my part, I despair not, and fancy that I discover ways to save us. 


Hor. Epog. 13.  Deus haec fortasse benigna  
Reducet in sedem vice.   


Sir Thomas Hawkins.  God will perchance,  
Them to their Seat with happy change advance.   Who knows but that God will have it happen, as it does in humane Bodies, that purge and restore themselves to a better estate by long and grievous Maladies; which restores them a more entire and perfect Health than that they took from them? That which weighs the most with me, is, that in reckoning the symptoms of our ill, I see as many natural ones, and that Heaven sends us, and properly its own, as of those that our disorder and humane imprudence contribute to it. The very Stars seem to declare, that we have continued long enough, and beyond the ordinary term already: And this also afflicts me, that the mischief which most threatens us, is, not an alteration in the entire and solid Mass, but its dissipation and divultion, which is the most worthy of our fears. I moreover fear, in these rave of mine, the treachery of my Memory, lest by Inadvertence it should make me write the same thing twice. I hate to examine myself, and never review, but very unwillingly, what has once escaped my Pen. I here set down nothing new. These are common Thoughts, and having peradventure conceived them an hundred times, I am afraid I have set them down some where else already. 
Repetition troublesome  Repetition is every where troublesome, though it were in Homer; but 'tis ruinous in things that have only a superficial and transitory show. I do not love Inculcation, even in the most profitable things, as in Seneca. And the usage of the Stoical School displeases me, to repeat upon every Subject at length the principles and presuppositions that serve in general, and always to realledge anew common and universal Reasons. My Memory grows infinitely worse every day than other: 

Pocula Le●haeos ut si ducentia somnos, 
Hor. Epod. 14.   
Arente fauce traxerim.   

As if in thirst Lethe's oblivious flood  
I had caroused into my blood.   I must be fain for the time to come, (for hitherto, thanks be to God, nothing has happened much amiss) whereas others seek time and opportunity to think of what they have to say, to avoid all preparations, for fear of tying myself to some obligation upon which I must be forced to insist. To be tied and bound to a thing puts me quite out, and to depend upon so weak an Instrument as my Memory. I never read this following Story, that I am not offended at it with a natural Resentment. Lyncestes, 
Lyncestes killed with thrusts of Pikes by Alexander's Soldiers.  accused of conspiracy against Alexander, the day that he was brought out before the Army, according to the Custom, to be heard what he could say for himself, had prepared a studied Speech, of which, haggling and stammering, he pronounced some words; but still being more perplexed, whilst struggling with his Memory, and that he was recollecting himself of what he had to say, the Soldiers nearest to him charged their Pikes against him and killed him, looking upon him as convict. His astonishment and silence served them for a Confession. For having had so much leisure to prepare himself in Prison, they concluded that it was not his Memory that failed him, but that his Conscience tied up his Tongue, and stopped his Mouth. This was very well said. The Place, the Assistants, and the expectation astonish him even at the time when it stood him upon to speak the best he could. What can a man do, when 'tis a Harangue upon which his Life depends? For my part, the very being tied to what I am to say is enough to lose me from it. When I wholly commit and refer myself to my Memory, I lay so much stress upon it, that it sinks under me, and I suppress it with the burden. So much as I trust to it, so much do I put myself out of my own power, so much as to find it in my own Countenance; and have been sometimes very much put to't to conceal the slavery wherein I was engaged; whereas my design is, to manifest in speaking a perfect negligence both of face and accent; and casual and unpremeditated motions, as rising from present occasions, choosing rather to say nothing to purpose, than to show that I came prepared to speak well, a thing especially unbecoming a man of my Profession, and of great obligation to him that cannot retain much; the preparation begets a great deal more expectation than it will satisfy. A man oft strips himself to his Doublet to leap no further than he would have done in his Gown. Nihil est his, qui placere volunt, 
Cicero. Acad. l. 4.  tam adversarium, quaàm expectatio. Nothing is so great an adversary to those who make it their business to please, as Expectation. It is recorded of the Orator Curio, that when he proposed the division of his Oration into three or four parts, it often happened, either that he forgot some one, or added one or two more. I have always avoided falling into this inconvenience, having always hated these Promises and Prescriptions, not only out of distrust of my Memory, but also because this Method relishes too much of the Artist. Simpliciora militares decent. 'Tis enough that I have promised to myself never to take upon me to speak in Place of respect, for as to speaking, when a man reads his Speech, besides that it is very absurd, it is a mighty disadvantage to those who naturally could give it a Grace by action; and to rely upon the mercy of my present Invention, I will much less do it; 'tis heavy and perplexed, and such as would never furnish me in sudden and important Necessities. Permit, Reader, this Essay its course also, and this sitting to finish the rest of my Picture. I add, but I correct not; first, because I conceive, that a man having once parted with his Labours to the World, he has no farther right to them; let him do better if he can in some new Undertaking, but not adulterate what he has already sold; of such dealers nothing should be bought till after they are dead: let them well consider what they do, before they produce them to the light. Who hastens them? My Book is always the same, saving that upon every new Edition, (that the Buyer may not go away quite empty) I take the liberty to add (as it were by an ill-jointed in-laying or faneering) some few insignificant things over and above. They are no other but over-weight, that do not disfigure the primitive Form of those Essays, where they, by a little ambitious subtlety, give a kind of particular Repute to every one of those that follow. From thence however there will easily happen some transposition of Chronology; my stories taking place according to their patness, and not always according to their Age. Secondly, because that for what concerns myself, I fear to lose by the change: my Understanding does not always go forward, it goes backward too. I do not much less suspect my Fancies for being the second or the third, than for being the first, or present, or past; we oft correct ourselves as foolishly as we do others. I am grown older by a great many years since my first Publications, which were in the year 1580: but I very much doubt whether I am grown an inch the wiser. I now, and I anon, are two several Persons; but whether the better, now, or anon, I am not able to determine. It were a fine thing to be old, if we only travelled towards improvement; but 'tis a drunken, stumbling, reeling, ill-favoured motion, like that of Reeds, which the Air casually waves to and fro at Pleasure. 
The Writings of Antiochus corrected by himself in his more mature Age.  Antiochus had in his Youth effectually written in favour of the Academy, but in his old age he writ as much against it; would not which of these two soever I should follow, be still Antiochus? After having established the incertainty, to go about to establish the certainty of humane Opinions, was it not to establish doubt, and not certainty? And to promise, that had he had yet another Age to live, he would be always upon terms of altering his Judgement, not so much for the better, as for something else? The public Favour has given me a little more confidence than I expected; but what I most fear, is, lest I should glut the World with my Writings: I had rather of the two nettle my Reader, than tyre him; as a learned man of my time has done. Praise is always pleasing, let it come from whom, or upon what account it will; yet ought a man to understand why he is commended, that he may know how to keep up the same Reputation still. The vulgar and common esteem is seldom happy in hitting right; and I am much mistaken, if amongst the Writings of my time, the worst are not those which have most gained the popular applause. For my part, I confess myself obliged, and return my thanks to those good natured men, who are pleased to take my weak Endeavours in good part. The Faults of the Workmanship are no where so apparent, as in a matter which of itself has no Recommendation. Blame not me, Reader, for those that slip in here, by the fancy or inadvertency of others; every hand, every Artisan contribute their own Materials, I neither concern myself with Orthography (and only care to have it after the old way) nor pointing, 
Orthography and pointing despised.  being very unexpert both in the one and the other. Where they wholly break the Sense, I am very little concerned, for they at least discharge me; but where they substitute a false one, as they so often do, and wrest me to their Conception, they ruin me. When the Sentence nevertheless is not strong enough for my Proportion, a civil Person ought to reject it as spurious, and none of mine. Whoever shall know how lazy I am, and how indulgent to my own Humour, will easily believe that I had rather write as many more Essays, than be tied to revise these over again for so childish a Correction. I was saying elsewhere, that being planted in very Centre of this new Religion, I am not only deprived of any great Familiarity with men of other kind of Manners than my own, and of other Opinions, by which they hold together, as by a tye that supersedes all other Obligations; but moreover▪ I do not live without danger, amongst men to whom all things are equally lawful, and of whom the most part cannot offend the Laws more than they have already done; from whence the extremest degree of Licence does proceed. All the particular Circumstances respecting me being summed up together, I do not find one man of my Country, who pays so dear for the defence of our Laws both in cost and damages (as the Lawyers say) as myself. And some there are who vapour and brag of their Zeal and Constancy, that if things were justly weighed, do not much less than I. My House, as one that has ever been open and free to all Comers, and civil to all, (for I could never persuade myself to make a Garrison of it, that being to make it the aim of the remotest Enemy) has sufficiently merited a popular kindness, and so that it would be a hard matter justly to insult over me upon my own Dunghill; and I look upon it as a wonderful and exemplary thing, that it yet continues a Virgin from Blood and Plunder during so long a storm, and so many neighbouring Revolutions and Tumults. For to confess the truth, it had been possible enough for a man of my Complexion to have shaked hands with any one constant and continued Form whatever. But the contrary Invasions and Incursions, Revolutions, and Vicissitudes of Fortune round about me, have hitherto more exasperated, then calmed and mollified the humour of the Country, and involve me over and over again with invincible Difficulties and Dangers. I scape, 'tis true, but am troubled that it is more by chance, and something of my own Prudence, than by Justice, and am not satisfied to be out of the Protection of the Laws, and under any other safeguard than theirs. As matters stand, I live above one half by the Favour of others, which is an untoward Obligation. I do not like to owe my safety either to the Generosity or Affection of great Persons, who are content to allow me my Liberty, or to the obliging manners of my Predecessors, or my own; for what if I was another kind of man? If my Deportments, and the frankness of my Conversation or Relation oblige my Neighbours, 'tis cruel that they should acquit themselves of that Obligation in only permitting me to live, and that they may say, we allow him the free liberty of having Divine Service read in his own private Chapel, when it is interdicted in all Churches round about, and allow him the use of his Goods, and the fruition of his Life, as one that protects our Wives and cattle in time of need. For my House has for many Descents shared in the Reputation of Lycurgus the Athenian, 
Lycurgus' the general Trustee for all his fellow Citizens.  who was the general Feoffee and Guardian of the Purses of his fellow Citizens. Now I am clearly of Opinion, that a man should live by Authority, and not either by Recompense or Favour. How many gallant men have rather chosen to lose their Lives than to abandon their Duty? I hate to subject myself to any sort of Obligation, but above all, to that which binds me by the duty of Honour. I think nothing so dear as what is given me, and that because my Will lies at pawn under the title of Ingratitude, and more willingly accept of Offices that are to be sold; being of Opinion, that for the last I give nothing but Money, but for the other I give myself. The knot that binds me by the Laws of Courtesy pinches me more than that of Loyal constraint, and I am much more at ease when bound by a Scrivener than by myself. Is it not reason that my Conscience should be much more engaged when men simply rely upon it? In a Bond, my Faith owes nothing, because it has nothing lent it. Let them trust to the security they have taken without me; 
Promises to be strictly observed.  I had much rather break the Wall of a Prison, and the Laws themselves, than my own Word. I am nice, even to Superstition, in keeping my Promises, and therefore upon all occasions have a care to make them uncertain and conditional. To those of no great moment, I add the jealousy of my own Rule to make it weight; ●t wracks and oppresses me with its own Interest. Even in Actions that are wholly my own, and free, if I once say it, I conceive that I have bound myself, and that delivering it to the knowledge of another, I have positively enjoined it my own performance. Methinks I promise it, if I but say it, and therefore am not apt to say much of that kind. The Sentence that I pass upon myself is more severe than that of a Judge, who only considers the common Obligation; but my Conscience looks upon it with a more severe and penetrating Eye. I lag in those Duties to which I should be compelled if I did not go. 
Cicero de Offic.  Hoc ipsum ita justum est quod recte fit, si est voluntarium. Even that which is well done, is only just when 'tis voluntary. If the Action has not some splendour of Liberty, it has neither Grace nor Honour. 


Ter. Adel. Act. 3. Scen. 5.  Quod me jus cogit, vix Voluntate impetrent.   

That which the Laws have power to constrain,  
They from my Will would hardly ere obtain.   Where Necessity draws me, I love to let my Will take its own Course. Quia quicquid imperio cogitur, exigenti magis quam praestanti acceptum refertur. For whatever is compelled by power, is more imputed to him that exacts tha● to him that performs. I know some who follow this Rule, even to Injustice, who will sooner give than restore, sooner lend than pay, and will do them the least good to whom they are most obliged. I am of a quite contrary Humour. I so much love to disengage and disobligate myself, that I have sometimes looked upon Ingratitudes, Affronts, and Indignities which I have received from those to whom either by Nature or Accident I was bound in some duty of Friendship, as an Advantage to me, taking this occasion of their ill usage, for an acquittance and discharge of so much of my Debt. And though I still continue to pay them all the Offices of public Reason, I notwithstanding find myself very sparing of doing that upon the account of Justice, which I did upon the score of Affection, and am a little eased of my former Solicitude by my inward Will. Est prudentis sustinere ut cursum, 
Cic. de Amicitia.  sic impetum benevolentia. 'Tis the part of a wise man to keep a kerbing hand, as upon the ordinary pace, so especially upon the precipitation of his good Will; which is in me too urging and pressing where I take; at least, for a man who love not to be strained at all. And this husbanding my Friendship serves me for a sort of Consolation in the Imperfections of those in whom I am concerned. I am sorry they are not such as I could wish they were, but so it is, that I also go less in my Application and Engagement towards them. I approve of a man that is the less fond of his Child for having a scald head, or being crooked; and not only when he is ill-natured, but also when he is unhappy and imperfect in his Limbs, (for God himself has abated that from his value and natural estimation) provided he carry himself in this coldness of Affection with Moderation and exact Justice. Proximity lessens not defects with me, but rather makes them greater. After all, according to what I understand in the Science of Benefits and Acknowledgement (which is a subtle Science, and of great use) I know no Person whatever more free and less indebted than I am at this hour. What I do owe, is simply to common and natural Obligations; as to any thing else, no man is more absolutely clear. 

— nec sunt mihi nota potentum  

Aeneid. l. 12.  Munera.—   

The Gifts of great men are to me unknown.   Princes give me a great deal, if they take nothing from me; and do me good enough, if they do me no harm; that's all I ask. Oh, how am I obliged to Almighty God, who has been pleased that I should immediately receive all I have from his Bounty, and particularly reserved all my Obligation to himself! How instantly do I beg of his holy Compassion, that I may never owe a real thanks to any one! O happy Liberty wherein I have thus far lived! May it continue with me to the last. I endeavour to have no need of any one. In me omnis spes est mihi. All my hope is in myself. 'Tis what every one may do in himself, but more easily they whom God has placed in a Condition exempted from natural and urgent Necessities. It is a wretched and dangerous thing to depend upon others. Ourselves, which is the most just and safest Refuge, are not sufficiently assured. I have nothing mine but myself, and yet the possession is in part defective and borrowed. I fortify myself both in Courage, which is the strongest assistant, and also in Fortune, therein wherewith to satisfy myself, though every thing else should forsake me. Eleus Hippias did not only furnish himself with Knowledge, that he might at need cheerfully retire from all other Company to enjoy the Muses, nor with the Knowledge of Philosophy only to teach his Soul to be contented with it, and bravely to subsist without outward Conveniencies, when Fate would have it so; he was moreover so curious, as to learn Cookery, to shave himself, to make his own clothes, his own Shoes and Drawers, to provide for all his Necessities in himself, and to wean himself from the Assistance of others. A man more freely and cheerfully enjoys borrowed Conveniencies, when it is not an Enjoyment forced and constrained by need, and when a man has in his own Will and Fortune wherewithal to live without them. I know myself very well. But 'tis hard to imagine any so pure Liberality of any one towards me, any so frank and free Hospitality, that would not appear to me unhandsome, tyrannical, and tainted with reproach, if Necessity had reduced me to it. As giving is an ambitious and authoritative quality, so is accepting a quality of Submission. Witness the injurious and quarrelsome refusal that Bajazet made of the Presents that Themir sent him; 
That 'tis injurious to refuse a Present.  and those that were offered in the behalf of the Emperor Solyman to the Emperor of Calicut, were so much disdained by him, that he not only rudely rejected them, saying, that neither he, nor any of his Predecessors had never been wont to take, and that it was their Office to give; but moreover caused the Ambassadors sent for that purpose to be put into a Dungeon. When Thetis, says Aristotle, flatters Jupiter; when the Lacedæmonians flatter the Athenians, they never put them in mind of the good they have received from them, which is always odious, but of the benefits they have received from them: 
That 'tis odious to reproach any with a Benefit conferred.  such as I see so frequently employ every one in their Affairs, and thrust themselves into so much obligation, would never do it, did they but relish the sweetness of a pure Liberty as I do, and did they but weigh, as wise men should, the burden of Obligation. 'Tis sometimes peradventure fully returned, but 'tis never dissolved. 'Tis a miserable slavery to a man that loves to be at full liberty upon all accounts. Such as know me, both better and meaner men than myself, are able to say whether they have ever known a man less importuning, soliciting, entreating, and pressing upon others than I; but if I am, and be a degree beyond all modern Example, 'tis no great wonder so many parts of my Manners contributing to it. A little natural Pride, an impatience of being refused, the contradiction of my Desires and Designs, and my most beloved Qualities, Idleness and Freedom; by all these together I have conceived a mortal hatred to being obliged to any other, or by any other than myself. I prodigally lay out all I can wrap and wring of my own, rather than employ the bounty of another in any light or important occasion or necessity whatever. My Friends do strangely importune me, when they advise me to call in a third Person, and I think it costs me little less to disengage him who is indebted to me by making use of him, than to engage myself to him that owes me nothing: These Conditions being removed, provided they require of me nothing of any great trouble or care, (for I have renounced all business that requires great diligence) I am easily entreated, and ready to do every one the best service I can: But yet I have, I confess, more avoided receiving than sought occasions of giving, and also, according to Aristotle, it is more easy. My Fortune has allowed me but little to do others good withal, and the little it can afford is put into a pretty close hand. Had I been born a great Person, I should have been ambitious to have made myself beloved, not to make myself feared or admired; Shall I more plainly express it? I should more have endeavoured to please than to do good. Cyrus very wisely, and by the Mouth of a great Captain, and better Philosopher, prefers his Bounty and Benefits much before his Valour and Warlike Conquests. And the elder Scipio, wherever he would raise his Esteem, sets a higher value upon his Affability and Humanity, than his Prowess and Victories, and has always this glorious Saying in his Mouth, That he has given his Enemies as much occasion to love him as his Friends. I will then say, that if a man must of necessity owe something, it ought to be by a more legitimate title than that whereof I am speaking, to which the necessity of this miserable War compels me; and not in so great a debt as that of my total Preservation both of Life and Fortune that over-whelms me. I have a thousand times gone to bed at my own House with an apprehension that I should be betrayed and murdered that very night, compounding with Fortune, that it might be without terror, and with quick dispatch; and after my Pater noster have cried out, 


Virg. Ecl. 1.  Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit.   

Shall impious Soldiers have these new plow'd Grounds.   What remedy? 'tis the Place of my Birth, and most of my Ancestors have here fixed their Affection and Name; we inure ourselves to whatever we are accustomed. And in so miserable a Condition as ours is, Custom is a great bounty of Nature, which benumbs our Senses to the sufferance of many evils. A Civil War has this with it worse than other Wars have, to make us stand Sentinels in our own Houses. 

Quam miserum, porta vitam muroque tueri, 
Ovid. Trist. l. 4. Eleg. 1.   
Vixque suae tutum viribus esse domus!   

To ones own Walls and Gates, 'tis wretched sure  
To trust one's Life, yet scarce to be secure.   'Tis a grievous extremity for a man to be justled in his own House. The Country where I live is always the first in Arms, and the last that lays them down, and where there is never an absolute Peace. 

Tum quoque cum pax est, 
Lucan.  trepidant formidine belli.  
quoties pacem fortuna lacessit;  
Hac iter est bellis, melius fortuna dedisset  
Orb sub Eoo sedem, gelidaque sub Areto,  
Errantesque domos.   

Oh ill built City, too too near the Gaul! 
Mr. May.   
Oh, sadly situated Place! when all  
The World have Peace, we are the spoil of War,  
And first that are invaded; happier far  
Might we have lived in farthest North or East,  
Or wand'ring Tents of Scythia, than possessed  
The edge of Italy.   I sometimes extract the means to fortify myself against these Considerations, from carelessness and sloth, which also in some sort bring us on to resolution. It oft befalls me to imagine and expect mortal dangers with a kind of delight. I stupidly plunge myself headlong into Death, without considering or taking a view of it, as into a deep and obscure Abyss, which swallows me up at one leap, and involves me in an instant in a profound sleep without any sense of pain. And in these short and violent Deaths, the Consequence that I foresee administers more Consolation to me than the Effect does Fear. They say, that as Life is not better for being long, so Death is better for being not long. I do not so much evade being dead, as I enter into confidence with dying. I wrap and shroud myself in the storm that is to blind and carry me away with the Fury of a sudden and insensible Attack. Moreover, what if it should fall out, that as some Gardiner's say, that Roses and Violets spring more odoriferent near unto Garlic and Onions, by reason that the last suck and imbibe all the ill odour of the Earth; that these depraved Natures should also attract all the malignity of my Air and Climate, and so render it so much better and purer by their vicinity, that I should not lose all? That cannot be, but there may be something in this, that Bounty and Goodness is more beautiful and attractive when it is rare, and that Contrariety and Diversity fortifies and shuts up well-doing within itself, and inflames it by the jealousy of opposition and glory. Thiefs and Robbers (of their special favour) have no particular aim at me, no more have I to them. I should have my hands too full. Like Consciences are lodged under several sorts of Robes, like Cruelty, Disloyalty, and Rapine; and so much the worse as they are more mischievous to others, and more secure and concealed in themselves, under the colour of the Laws. I less hate an open professed injury than one that is clandestine and treacherous; an Enemy in Arms than an Enemy in a Gown. Our Fever has seized upon a Body that is not much the worse for't. There was Fire before, and now 'tis broke out into a Flame. The noise is greater, the evil much the same. I casually answer such as ask me the reason of my Travels, that I know very well what I fly from, but not what I seek. If they tell me that I may be as unhealthy amongst Strangers, and that their Manners are no purer than ours; I first reply, that that is hard to be believed. Tam multae scelerum facies. 
Virg. Georg. l. 1.  Secondly, that it is always gain to change an ill Condition for one that is uncertain, and that the ills of others ought not to concern us so much as those of our own. I will not here omit, that I never mutiny so much against France, that I am not perfectly friends with Paris; 
The commendation of Paris.  that City has ever had my Heart from my infancy, and it has fallen out, as of excellent things, that the more beautiful Cities I have seen since, the more the beauty of this does still win upon my affection. I love it by itself, and more in its own native Being, than in all the Pomp of foreign and acquired Embellishments; I love it tenderly, even to its warts and blemishes. I am not a Frenchman but by this great City, great in People, great in the felicity of her Situation; but above all, great and incomparable in variety and diversity of Commodities, the Glory of France, and one of the most noble Ornaments of the World. God of his Goodness compose our Differences, and deliver us from this Civil War; I find her sufficiently defended from all other Violences. I give her caution, that of all sorts of People, those will be the worst that shall set it in Division; I have no fears of her, but of herself; and certainly I have as much fear for her as for any other City in the Kingdom. Whilst she shall continue, I shall never want a retreat, where I may live or die, sufficient to make me amends for parting with any other home or retreat whatever. Not because Socrates has said so, but because it is in truth my own Humour, and peradventure not without some excess. I look upon all men as my Compatriots, and embrace a Polander with as sincere an Affection as a Frenchman, preferring the universal and common tye to all National ties whatever. I am not much taken with the sweetness of a natural Air: Acquaintance wholly new, and wholly my own, appear to me full as good as the other common and accidental ones with our Neighbours: Friendships that are purely of our own acquiring, ordinarily carry it above those to which the Communication of the Clime or of Blood oblige us. Nature has placed us in the World free and unbound, we imprison ourselves in certain straits, like the Kings of Persia, 
The Water of the River Choaspes the beverage of the Persian Kings.  who oblige themselves to drink no other Water but that of the River Choaspes, and foolishly quit claim to their right of usage in all other Streams; and as to what concerned themselves, dried up all the other Rivers of the World. What Socrates did towards his end, 
Death preferred to banishment.  to look upon a Sentence of Banishment as worse than a Sentence of Death against him; I shall, I think, never be either so decrepit, or so strictly habituated to my own Country, to be of that Opinion. These Celestial Lives have Images enough, which I embrace more by Esteem, than Affection; and they have some also so elevated and extraordinary, that I cannot embrace them so much as by Esteem, for as much as I cannot conceive them. This Humour was very tender in a man that thought the whole World his City. It is true, that he disdained Travel, and had hardly ever set his Foot out of the Attic Territories. What though he complained of the Money his Friends offered to save his Life, and that he refused to come out of Prison by the Mediation of others; not to disobey the Laws in a time when they were otherwise so corrupted? These Examples are of the first kind for me; of the second there are others that I could find out in the same Person. Many of these rare Examples surpass the force of my Action; but some of them do moreover surpass the force of my Judgement. These Reasons set aside, Travel is in my Opinion a very improving thing; the Soul is there continually employed in observing new and unknown things: and I do not know, as I have often said, a better School wherein to model Life, than by incessantly exposing to it the diversity of so many other lives, fancies, and usances; and to make it relish so perpetual a variety of the form of humane Nature. The Body is therein neither idle nor overwrought, and that moderate Agitation puts in breath. I can keep on Horseback, as much tormented with the Stone as I am, without alighting or being weary, eight or ten hours together. 


Aeneid. l. 6.  Vires ultra sortemque senectae.   

Beyond the strength and common use of Age.   No Season is Enemy to me, but the parching heat of a scorching Sun; 
Vmbrellas' of Italy  for the Vmbrellas made use of in Italy ever since the time of the ancient Romans, more burden a man's Arm than they relieve his Head. I would fain know what pain it was to the Persians so long ago, and in the Infancy of their Luxury, to make such Ventiducts, and plant such Shades about their abodes, as Xenophon reports they did. I love Rain, and to dabble in the Dirt, as well as tame Ducks do; the change of Air and Climate never concern me; every Sky is alike. I am only troubled with inward Alterations, which I bred within myself, and those are not so frequent in Travel. I am hard to be got out, but being once upon the Road, I hold out as well as the best. I take as much pains in little, as in great Attempts; and am as solicitous to equip myself for a short Journey, if but to visit a Neighbour, as for the longest Voyage. 
The Spanish way of travelling.  I have learned to travel after the Spanish fashion, and to make but one Stage of a great many Miles; and in excessive heats, I always travel by Night, from Sunset, to Sunrising. The other method of baiting by the way, in haste and hurry to gobble up a Dinner, is, especially in short days, very inconvenient. My Horses perform the better, for never any Horse tired under me that was able to hold out the first days Journey. I water them at every Brook I meet, and have only a care they have so much way to go before I come to my Inn, as will warm the Water in their Bellies. My unwillingness to rise in a Morning, gives my Servants leisure to dine at their ease before they go out. For my own part, I never eat too late: my Appetite comes to me in eating, and not else, and am never hungry but at Table. Some of my Friends blame me for continuing this travelling Humour, being married and old. But they are out in't, for it is the best time to leave a man's House, when a man has put it into a way of continuing without us; and settled such an Oeconomy, as corresponds to it for mere Government. 'Tis much greater imprudence to abandon it to a less faithful Housekeeper, and who will be less solicitous to provide for the Family, and look after your Affairs. The most useful and honourable Knowledge and Employment for the Mother of a Family, is, the Science of good Housewifry, I see some that are covetous indeed, but very few that are saving. 'Tis the supreme quality of a Woman, and that a man ought to seek after before any other, as the only dowry that must ruin or preserve our Houses. Let men say what they will, according to the Experience I have learned, I require in married Women the Oeconomical Virtue above all other Virtues; I put my Wife to't, as a Concern of her own, leaving her by my absence the whole Government of my Affairs. I see, and am ashamed to see, in several Families I know, Monsieur, about Dinner time, come home all dirt, and in great disorder, from trotting about amongst his Husbandmen and Labourers, when Madam is perhaps scarce out of her Bed, and afterwards is pouncing and tricking up herself forsooth in her Closet. This is for Queens to do, and that's a question too. 'Tis ridiculous, and unjust, that the Laziness of our Wives should be maintained with our Sweat and Labour. No man, forasmuch as in me lies, shall have a more free and liberal, a more quiet and free fruition of his Estate than I. If the Husband bring Matter, Nature herself will that the Wife find the Form. 
That Conjugal Friendship grows warm by absence.  As to the Duties of Conjugal Friendship, that some think to be violated by the absence, I am quite of another Opinion; it is on the contrary an Intelligence that easily cools by a too frequent and assiduous Practice. Every strange Woman appears graceful, and every one finds by Experience, that being continually together is not so pleasing, as to part for a time, and meet again. These interruptions inflame me anew towards my Wife, and render my own House more pleasant to me. Absence, and change of Place, renew my Appetite both to the one and the other. I know that the Arms of Friendship are long enough to reach from the one end of the World to the other, and especially this, where there is a continual communication of Offices that rouse the Obligation and Remembrance. The Stoics say, that there is so great Connexion and Relation amongst wise men, that he who dines in France, nourishes his Companion in Egypt; and that whoever does but hold out his Finger, in what part of the World soever, all the wise Men upon the habitable Earth feel themselves assisted by it. Fruition and Possession principally appertain to the Imagination. It more fervently and constantly embraces what it is in quest of, than what we hold in our Arms. Let a man but consider and cast up his daily Thoughts, and he will find, that he is most absent from his Friend when in his Company. His Assistance relieves your Attention, and gives your Thoughts Liberty to absent themselves at every turn, and upon every Occasion. When I am out at Rome, I keep and govern my House, and the Conveniencies I there left, see my Walls rise, my Trees shoot, and my Revenue increase, or decrease, very near as well as when I am there. 


Ovid. Trist. l. 3. Eleg. 4.  Ante oculos errat domus, errat forma locorum.   

My House, and forms of places constantly  
Present themselves unto my Fancy's Eye.   If we enjoy nothing but what we touch, we may say farewell to the Money in our Closets, and to our Sons when they are gone a hunting. We will have them nearer to us. Is the Garden, or half a days Journey from home so far? What is ten Leagues, far, or near? If near, what is eleven, twelve, or thirteen? and so by degrees. In earnest, if there be a Woman who can tell her Husband what step ends the near, and what step begins the remote, I would advise her to stop between. 


Hor. lib. 2. Epist. 1.  excludat jurgia finis:  
Vtor permisso, caudaeque pilos ut equinae  
Paulatim vello: & demo unum, demo etiam unum  
Dum cadat clusus ratione ruentis acervi.   

the whole House tail we may  

Sir W. P.  Thus hair by hair, at length pluck quite away.   And let them in God's Name call Philosophy to their Assistance; in whose teeth it may be cast, that seeing it neither discerns the one nor the other end of the joint, betwixt the too much and the little, the long and the short, the light and the heavy, the near and the remote, that seeing it discovers neither the beginning nor the end, it must needs judge very uncertainly of the middle. 
Cic. Acad. lib. 4.  Rerum natura nullam nobis dedit cognitionem finium. Are they not still Wives and Friends to the dead, who are not only at the end of this, but in the other World? We embrace not only the absent, but those who have been, and those who are not yet. We do not promise in Marriage to be continually twisted and linked together, like some little Animals that we see, or like those of Karenty, 
The bewitched of Karenty.  that are bewitched, tied together like Dogs. And a Wife ought not to be so greedily enamoured of her Husband's Foreparts, that she cannot endure to see him turn his Back, if Occasion be. But may not this saying of that excellent Painter of women's Humours be here introduced, to show the Reason of their Complaints? 

Vxor, si cesses, aut te amare cogitat, 
Ter. Adelp. Act. 1. Scen. 1.   
Aut tete amari, aut potare, aut animo obsequi,  
Et tibi bene esse soli, cum sibi sit male.   

Thy Wife, if thou stayest long abroad, is moved,  
Thinking thou either lov'st, or art beloved;  
Drinking, or something else, thyself to please,  
And that thou'rt well, whilst she is ill at ease.   Or may it not be, that of itself Opposition and Contradiction entertains and nourishes them, and that they sufficiently accommodate themselves, provided they incommodate you? In true Friendship, wherein I pretend to be as perfect as another, I more give myself to my Friend, than I endeavour to attract him to me. I am not only better pleased in doing him service, than if he conferred a Benefit upon me; but moreover, had rather he should do himself good than me, and he most obliges me when he does so. 
Of the Utility the absence of a Friend is.  And if absence be either more pleasant or convenient for him, 'tis also more acceptable to me than his Presence; neither is it properly absence, when we can write to one another. I have sometimes made good use of our separation from one another. We better filled, and further extended the possession of Life in being parted. He lived, rejoiced, and saw for me, and I for him, as plainly as if he had himself been there; one part remained idle, and we confounded one another when we were together. The distance of Place rendered the Conjunction of our Wills more rich. This insatiable desire of personal Presence, a little implies weakness in the fruition of Souls. As to what concerns Age, which is alleged against me, 'tis quite contrary; 'tis for Youth to subject itself to common Opinions, and to curb itself to please others. It has wherewithal to please both the People and its self; we have but too much ado to please ourselves alone. As natural Conveniencies fail, let us supply them with those that are artificial. 'Tis Injustice to excuse Youth for pursuing its Pleasures, and to forbid old Men to seek them. When young, I concealed my wanton Passions with Prudence; now I am old, I chase away Melancholy by Debauch. And thus do the Platonic Laws forbid Travel till forty or fifty years old, that men's Travels might be more useful and instructive in so mature an Age. I should sooner subscribe to this second Article of the Laws, who forbids it after threescore; but at such an Age you will never return from so long a Journey. What care I for that? I neither undertake it to return nor to finish it. My business is only to keep myself in motion whilst motion pleases me, and only walk for the walks sake. They who hunt after a Benefice, or a Hare, run not; they only run that run at Base, and to exercise their running. My design is divisible throughout, it is not grounded upon any great hopes, every day concludes my expectation. And the Journey of my Life is carried on after the same manner; and yet I have seen Places enough a great way off, when I could have wished to have been stayed. And why not, if Chrysippus, Cleanthes, Diogenes, Zeno, Antipater, so many Sages of the sourest Sect, cheerfully abandoned their Country, without occasion of complaint, and only for the enjoyment of another Air? In earnest, that which most displeases me in all my Voyages, is, that I cannot resolve to settle my Abode where I should best like, but that I must always propose to myself to return, to accommodate myself to the common Humour. If I feared to die in any other Place than that of my Birth; if I thought I should die more uneasily remote from my own Family, I should hardly go out of France; I should not without fear step out of my Parish. I feel Death always twitching me by the Throat, or by the Back, but I am of another temper, 'tis in all Places alike to me; yet, might I have my choice, I think I should rather choose to die on Horse back than in a Bed, out of my own House, and far enough from my own People. There is more Heart-breaking than Consolation in taking leave of ones Friends; I am willing to omit that civility, for that of all the Offices of Friendship is the only one that is unpleasant, and could with all my heart dispense with that great and eternal Farewell. If there be any convenience in so many standers by, it brings an hundred inconveniencies along with it. I have seen many miserably dying, surrounded with all his Train: 'tis a crowd that chokes them. 'Tis against Duty, and a testimony of little kindness, and little care, to permit you to die in Repose, one torments your Eyes, another afflicts your Ears, another tires your faltering Tongue; you have neither Sense nor Member that is not violated by them: Your Heart is wounded with compassion to hear the mourning of those that are your real Friends, and perhaps with spite, to hear the counterfeit condolings of those who only pretend and make a show of being so. Who ever has been delicate that way, when well, is much more so in his weakness. In such a necessity a tender Hand is required, and accommodated to his Sentiments, to scratch him just in the place where he itches, or not to meddle with him at all. If we stand in need of a 
viz. a Midwife so called in French.  Knowing Woman to bring us into the World, we have much more need of a wiser Man to help us out of it. Such a one, and a Friend to boot, a man ought to purchase at any rate for such an Occasion. I am not yet arrived to such a pitch of Bravery as to disdain all assistance in that fatal Hour, nor pretend to be able so to fortify myself in my own Strength, that nothing can assist or offend me; I have not brought myself to that: I endeavour to hide myself, and to escape from this Passage, not by Fear but by Art. I do not intend in this act of dying to muster up and make a show of my constancy. For whom should I do it? All the right and title I have to reputation will then cease. I content myself with a death involved within itself, quiet, solitary, and all my own, suitable to my retired and private life. Quite contrary to the Roman Superstition, where a man was looked upon as unhappy, who died without speaking, and that had not his nearest Relations to close his eyes. 
The eyes of dying Persons closed by their nearest Relations.  I have enough to do to comfort myself, without giving myself the trouble of consolating others; thoughts enough in my head, not to need that Circumstances should possess me with new; and matter enough to entertain myself withal without borrowing. This critical minute is out of the part of Society, 'tis the act of one single Person. Let us live, and be merry amongst our Friends, let us go die, and be sullen amongst Straners. A man may find those for his money that will shift his pillow, and rub his feet, and will trouble him no more than he would have them, who will present him with an indifferent Countenance, and suffer him to govern himself, and to complain according to his own Method. I wean myself daily by my Reason from this childish and inhuman Humour, of desiring by our sufferings to move the Compassion and Mourning of our Friends. We stretch our Inconveniencies beyond their just extent when we extract tears from them, and the Constancy which we commend in every one in supporting his own adverse Fortune, we accuse and reproach in our Friends when the case is our own; we are not satisfied that they should be sensible of our Condition only, unless they be moreover afflicted. A man should publish and communicate his joy, but as much as he can, conceal and smother his grief: He that makes himself lamented without Reason, is a man not to be lamented when there shall be real Cause. To be always complaining, is the way never to be lamented; by making himself always in so pitiful a Taking, he is never commiserated by any. He that makes himself dead when he is alive, is subject to be thought likely to live when he is dying; I have seen some, who have taken it ill when they have been told that they looked well, and that their Pulse was temperate, contain their smiles, because they betrayed a Recovery, and be angry at their Health because it was not to be lamented: And, which is a great deal more, they were not Women neither. I describe my Infirmities, but such as they really are at most, and avoid all Expressions of ill Prognostic and composed Exclamations. If not Mirth, at least, 
Mourning very improper about sick Persons.  a temperate Countenance in the standers by, is proper in the Presence of a wise sick Man. He does not quarrel with Health, for seeing himself in a contrary Condition. He is pleased to contemplate it found and entire in others, and at least to enjoy it for company. He does not, for feeling himself melt away, abandon all thoughts of Life, nor avoid to discourse of ordinary and indifferent things. I will study sickness whilst I am well; when it has seized me it will make its impression real enough, without the help of my Imagination. We prepare ourselves before hand for the Journey we undertake and resolve upon, we leave the appointment of the Hour when to take Horse to the Company, and in their favour defer it. I find this unexpected advantage in the publication of my Manners, that it in some sort serves me for a Rule. I have sometimes some consideration of not betraying or falsifying the History of my Life. This public Declaration obliges me to keep my way, and not to give the lie to the Image I have drawn of my Qualities, commonly less deformed and interdicted than the malignity and infirmity of the Judgements of this Age would have them. The uniformity and simplicity of my Manners produce a Face of easy interpretation, but because the fashion is a little new, and out of Use, it gives great opportunity to slander. Yet so it is, that whoever will go about justly do condemn me, I do think I so sufficiently assist his malice in my known and avowed Imperfections, that he may that way satisfy his ill nature, without fight with the Wind. If I myself, to prevent his accusation and discovery, confess enough to frustrate his malice, as he conceives, 'tis but reason that he make use of his right of amplification, and to wiredraw my Vices as far as he can; offence has a right beyond Justice; and let him make the roots of those errors I have laid open to him shoot up into Trees and Branches: let him make his Use, not only of those I am really infected with, but also of those that only threaten me; Injurious Vices both in quality and number. Let him cudgel me that way. I should willingly follow the example of the Philosopher Dion. Antigonus being about to reproach him with the meanness of his Birth, he presently cut him short, with this Declaration▪ I am, said he, the Son of a Slave, a Butcher, and stigmatised, and of a Whore, my Father married in the lowest of his Fortune, who both of them were whipped for Offences they had committed. An Orator bought me, when a Child, and finding me a pretty and hopeful Boy, bred me up, and when he died left me all his Estate, which I have transported into this City of Athens, and here settled myself to the study of Philosophy. Let the Historians never trouble themselves with enquiring after me. I shall tell them what I am; and a free and generous confession enervates Reproach, and disarms Slander. So it is, that, one thing with another, I fancy men as oft commend, as undervalue me beyond reason. As methinks also, from my infancy, in rank and degree of Honour, they have given me a place rather above than below my right. I should find myself more at ease in a Country where these Degrees were either regulated or not regarded. Amongst men, when the difference about the precedency either of walking or sitting exceeds three replies, 'tis reputed uncivil. I never stick at giving, or taking place out of Rule, to avoid the trouble of Ceremony. And never any man had a mind to go before me, but I permitted him to do it. Besides the profit I make of writing of myself, I have also hoped for this other advantage, that if it should fall out that my humour should please, or jump with those of some honest man, before I die, he would then desire, and seek to be acquainted with me, and to come up to me. I have given him a great deal of space; for all that he could have in many years acquired by a long familiarity, he has seen in three days in this memorial, and more surely and exactly set down. A pleasant fancy: many things that I would not confess to any one in particular, I deliver to the Public; and send my best Friends to a Booksellers shop, there to inform themselves concerning my most secret Thoughts. 


Per. sat. 5.  excutienda damus praecordia.   

My Entrails I lay open to men's view.   Had I by good Direction known where to have sought any one proper for my Conversation, I should certainly have gone a great way to have found him out: For the sweetness of suitable and agreeable Company, cannot, in my Opinion, be bought too dear. Oh! What a thing is a true Friend! How true is that old saying, 
How useful and necessary a Friend is.  That the Use of a Friend is more pleasing and necessary than the Elements of Water and Fire! To return to my Subject, there is then no great harm in dying privately, and far from home. And we also conceive ourselves obliged to retire for natural Actions less unseemly, and less terrible than this. But moreover, such as are reduced to spin out a long languishing Life, ought not perhaps to wish to trouble a great Family with their continual Miseries. Therefore the Indians, in a certain Province, thought it just to knock a man o'th' head, when reduced to such a Necessity: and in another of their Provinces, they all forsook him, to shift for himself as well as he could. To whom do they not at least become tedious and insupportable? You teach your best Friends to be cruel of force; hardening Women and Children by long usance, neither to lament, nor to regard your sufferings. The Groans forced from me by the pain of the Stone, were grown so familiar to my People, that no body took any more notice of them. And though we should extract some Pleasure from their Conversation, (which does not always happen, by reason of the Disparity of Conditions, which easily begets Contempt or Envy toward any one whatever) is it not too much to be troublesome all the days of a man's Life? The more I should see them force themselves out of real Affection to be serviceable to me, the more I should be sorry for their pains. We have liberty to lean, but not to lay our whole weight upon others, so as to prop ourselves by their ruin. Like him who caused little children's Throats to be cut, to make use of their Blood for the cure of a certain Disease he had: Or that other, who was continually supplied with tender young Girls, to keep his old Limbs warm in the Night, and to mix the sweetness of theirs with his sour and stinking Breath. Decrepitude is a solitary Quality. I am sociable even to excess; and I think it reasonable that I should now withdraw my Miseries from the sight of the World, and keep them to myself. Let me shrink and draw up myself like a Tortoise. I learn to see men without hanging upon them, I should endanger them in so steep a passage. 'Tis now time to turn my back to company. But in these Travels you may be surprised with Sickness in some wretched place where nothing can be had to relieve you: I always carry most things necessary about me; and besides, we cannot evade Fortune, if she once resolve to attack us. I need nothing extraordinary when I am sick. I will not be beholding to my Bolus to do that for me which Nature cannot. At the very beginning of my Fevers, and Sicknesses that cast me down, whilst entire, and but a little disorder in my Health, I reconcile myself to Almighty-God by the last Christian Offices: and find myself by so doing less oppressed, and more easy, and have got methinks so much the better of my Disease. And I have yet less need of a Scrivener or Counsellor, than of a Physician. What I have not settled of my Affairs when I was in Health, let no one expect I should do it when I am sick. What I will do for the service of Death, is always done. I durst not so much as one day defer it. And if nothing be done, 'tis as much as to say, either that doubt hindered my choice, (and sometimes 'tis well chosen not to choose) or that I was positively resolved not to do any thing at all. I write my Book to few men, and to few years. Had it been matter of duration, I should have put it into a better Language; for, according to the continual variation that ours has been continually subject to, who can expect that the present force should be in use fifty years hence? It slips every day through our Fingers, and since I was born is altered above one half. We say that it is now perfect; and every Age says the same of the Language then spoken: But I shall hardly trust to that, so long as it varies and changes as it does. 'Tis for good and useful Writings to nail and rivet it to them, and its Reputation will go according to the Fortune of our State. For which Reason, I am not afraid to insert in it several private Articles, which will spend their use amongst the men that are now living, and that concern the particular knowledge of some who will see further into them than every common Reader. I will not after all, as I oft hear dead men spoken of, that men should say of me, He judged, and lived so and so; he would have done this or that, could he have spoke when he was dying, he would have said so or so, and have given this thing or tother; I knew him better than any. Now, as much as Decency permits, I here discover my Inclinations and Affections; but I do it more willingly and freely by word of Mouth, to any one who desires to be informed. So it is, that in these Memoires, if any one observe, he will find, that I have either told, or designed to tell all. What I cannot express, I point out with my Finger. 

Verum animo satis haec vestigia parva sagaci 
Lucret. l. 1.   
Sunt, per quae possis cognoscere caetera tute:   

But by these footsteps a sagacious mind  
May easily all other Matters find.   I leave nothing to be desired, or to be guessed at concerning me. If People must be talking of me, I would have it to be justly, and truly. I would come again with all my Heart from the other World, to give any one the lie that should report me other than I was, though he did it to honour me. I perceive that People represent, even living men, quite another thing than what they really are: and had I not stoutly defended a Friend, whom I have lost, they would have torn him into a thousand several pieces. To conclude the account of my frail Humours, I do confess, that in my Travel, I seldom come to my Inn, but that it comes into my Mind to consider whether I could there be sick, and dying at my ease; I would be lodged in some convenient part of the House, remote from all noise, ill scents, and smoke. I endeavour to flatter Death by these frivolous Circumstances; or to say better, to discharge myself from all other Encumbrances, that I may have nothing to do, nor be troubled with any thing but it, which will lie heavy enough upon me, without the assistance of any other thing to mend the Load. I would have my Death share in the ease and conveniencies of my Life; 'tis a great part of it, and of the greatest importance, and hope it will not for the future contradict what is past. Death has some forms that are more easy than others, and receives divers Qualities, according to every one's Fancy. Amongst the natural ones, those that proceed from Weakness and Stupidity I think the most favourable: amongst those that are violent, I can worse endure to think of a precipice than the fall of a House, that will crush me flat in a moment; and a wound with a Sword, than a Harquebus shot: and should rather have chosen to poison myself with Socrates, then stab myself with Cato. And though it be the same thing, yet my Imagination makes as great a difference as betwixt Death and Life, betwixt throwing myself into a burning Furnace, and plunging into the Channel of a River: So idly does our Fear more concern itself in the Means than the Effect. It is but an instant, 'tis true, but withal, an instant of such weight, that I would willingly give a great many days of my Life to pass it over after my own fashion. Since every one's Imagination renders it more or less terrible, and since every one has some choice amongst the several forms of dying, let us try a little further, to find some one that is wholly clear from all Offence. Might not one render it moreover Voluptuous, as they did who died with Anthony and Cleopatra? I set aside the brave and exemplary efforts produced by Philosophy and Religion. But amongst men of little mark, such as Petronius, and a Tigillinus at Rome, there have been found men condemned to dispatch themselves, who have as it were rocked Death asleep with the delicacy of their Preparations; They have made it slip and steal away, even in the height of their accustomed Diversions. Amongst Whores and good Fellows, not a word of Consolation, no mention of making a Will, no ambitious affectation of Constancy, no talk of their future Condition: amongst Sports, Feast, Wit, and Mirth, common and indifferent Discourses, Music, and amorous Verses. Were it not possible for us to imitate this Resolution after a more decent manner? Since there are Deaths that are fit for fools, and fit for the wise, let us find out such as are fit for those who are betwixt both. My Imagination suggests to me one that is easy, and since we must die, 
The manner of dying left to the choice of Criminals by the Tyrants.  to be desired. The Roman Tyrants thought they did in a manner give a Criminal Life, when they gave him the choice of his Death. But was not Theophrastus, that so delicate, so modest, and so wise a Philosopher, compelled by Reason, when he durst repeat this Verse-translated by Cicero? 


Cic. Thus. lib. 5.  Vitam regit Fortuna, non Sapientia.   

Fortune, not Wisdom, humane Life doth sway.   Fortune is assisting to the Facility of the bargain of my Life; having placed it in such a condition, that for the future it can be no advantage nor hindrance to those that are concerned in me. 'Tis a Condition that I would have accepted at any time of my Age: but in this occasion of trussing up my Baggage, I am particularly pleased, that in dying I shall neither do them good nor harm; she has so ordered it by a cunning Compensation, that they who may pretend to any considerable advantage by my death, will at the same time sustain a material Inconvenience. Death sometimes is more grievous to us, in that it is grievous to others, and interests us in their interest as much as in our own, and sometimes more. In this Conveniency of lodging that I desire, I mix nothing of Pomp and Splendour, I hate it rather; but a certain plain neatness, which is oftest found in places where there is less of Art, and that Nature has adorned with some grace that is all her own. Non ampliter, sed munditer convivium. 
Cor. Nepos in vita Attici.  Plus salis quam sumptus. And besides, 'tis for those whose Affairs compel them to travel in the depth of Winter through the Grisons Country, to be surprised upon the way with great Inconveniencies. ay, who for the most part travel for my pleasure, do not order my Affairs so ill. If the way be foul on my right-hand, I turn on my left, if I find myself unfit to ride, I stay where I am: and so doing, in earnest, I see nothing that is not as pleasant and commodious as my own House. 'Tis true, that I always find superfluity superfluous, and observe a kind of trouble even in abundance itself. Have I left any thing behind me unseen, I go back to see it, 'tis still my way; I trace no certain line, either straight or crooked. Do I not find in the place to which I go what was reported to me? as it oft falls out, that the Judgements of others do not jump with mine, and that I have found those Reports for the most part false; I never complain of losing my Labour: I have at least informed myself that what was told me was not true. I have a Constitution of Body as free, and a palate as indifferent as any man living: the diversity of Fashions of several Nations no further concern me than the mere pleasure of Variety. Every Usance has its Reason. Let the Plate and Dishes be Pewter, Wood, or Earth, my Meat be boiled or roasted, let them give me Butter or Oil, of Nuts, or Olives, hot, or cold, 'tis all one to me; and so indifferent, that growing old, I accuse this generous Faculty, and have need that delicacy and choice should correct the Indiscretion of my Appetite, and sometimes relieve my Stomach. When I have been abroad out of France, and that People out of Courtesy have asked me if I would be served after the French manner, I laughed at the question, and always frequented Tables the most filled with Strangers. I am ashamed to see my Countrymen besotted with this foolish Humour of quarrelling with forms contrary to their own. They seem to be out of their Element, when out of their own Village. Wherever they go, they keep strictly to their own fashions, and abominate those of Strangers. Do we meet with a Compatriot in Hungary? Oh the happy adventure! They are thenceforward inseparable; they cling together, and their whole Discourse is to condemn the barbarous manners they see there. And why barbarous, but because they are not French? And those have made the best use of their Travels, who have observed most to speak against; for most of them go for no other end, but to come again. They proceed in their Travel with great Gravity and Circumspection, with a silent and incommunicable Prudence, preserving themselves from the Contagion of an unknown Air. What I am saying of them, puts me in mind of something like it. I have sometimes obseved in some of our young Courtiers, they will not mix with any but men of their own sort; and look upon us as men of another World, with disdain and pity. Put them upon any Discourse but the Intrigues of the Court, and they are utterly at a loss; as very Owls and Novices to us, as we are to them. And 'tis truly said, that a well bred man is of a compound Education. ay, on the contrary, travel very much sated with our own fashions; not to look for Gascons in Sicily, I have left them at home: I rather seek for Greeks than Persians, they are the men I endeavour to be acquainted with, and the men I study, 'tis there that I bestow and employ myself: and which is more, I fancy that I have met but with few Customs that are not at least as good as our own. I have not, I confess, travelled very far; scarce out of the sight of the fanes of my own House. As to the rest, most of the accidental Company a man falls into upon the Road, beget him more Trouble than Pleasure; I wave them as much as I civilly can, especially now that Age seems in some sort to privilege and sequester me from the common forms. You suffer for others, or others suffer for you; both of them Inconveniencies of importance enough, but the latter appears to me the greater. 'Tis a rare Fortune, 
Worthy Men of great Solace in Travel.  but of inestimable solace, to have a worthy man, one of a sound Judgement, and of Manners conformable to your own, who takes a delight to bear you Company. I have been at an infinite loss for that upon my Travels. But such a Companion should be chose and acquired from your first setting out. There can be no Pleasure to me without Communication: there is not so much as a sprightly thought comes into my mind, that it does not grieve me to have produced alone, and that I have no one to communicate it unto. 
Seneca. Epist. 6.  Si cum hac exceptione detur Sapientia, ut illam inclusam teneam, nec enuntiem, rejiciam. If Wisdom were conferred with this caution, that I must keep it to myself, and not communicate it to others, I would none of it. This other has strained it one note higher. Si contigerit ea vita sapienti, ut omnium rerum affluentibus copiis, 
Cic. de Offi. lib. 1.  quamvis omnia, quae cognitione digna sunt, summo otio secum ipse consideret, & contempletur, tamen si solitudo tanta sit, ut hominem videre non possit, excedat è vita. If such a condition of Life should happen to a wise man, that in the greatest plenty of all Conveniencies he might at the most undisturbed leisure, consider, and contemplate all things worth the knowing, yet if his Solitude must be such that he must not see a man, he had much better die. Architas was of my Opinion, when he said, that it would be unpleasant even in Heaven itself, to wander in those great and Divine Celestial Bodies without a Companion. But yet 'tis much better to be alone, than in foolish and troublesome Company. Aristippus loved to live as a Stranger in all places. 

Mea si fata meis paterentur ducere vitam Auspiciis. 
Aeneid. l. 4.    

But if the Fates would so propitious be  
To let me live at my own Liberty,   I should choose to pass away the greatest part of my Life on Horseback. 

— visere gestiens, 
Hor. lib. 3. Ode. 3.   
Qua parte debacchentur ignes,  
Quae nebulae pluviique roars.   

Visit the stores of Snow and Hail, 
Sir Richard Fanshaw.   
And where excessive Heats prevail.   Have you not more easy diversions at home? what do you there want? Is not your house situated in a sweet and healthful Air, sufficiently furnished, and more than sufficiently large? The Royal Majesty has more than once been entertained there with all his train. Has not your Family left more below it in good Government, than it has above it is Eminence? Is there any novel, extraordinary, and indigestible thought that afflicts you? 

Quae te nunc coquat, & vexet sub pectore fixa. 
Cic. de Senect. ex Enn.    

That now lies broiling in thy troubled breast,  
And ne'er will suffer thee to be at rest.   Where do you think to live without disturbance? 
Curtius.  Nunquam simpliciter fortuna indulget. You see then, it is only you that trouble yourself, and you shall every where follow yourself, and every where complain; for there is no satisfaction here below, but either for brutish or Divine Souls. He, who in so just an occasion has no contentment, where will he think to find it? How many millions of men terminate their wishes in such a condition as yours? Do but reform yourself; for that is wholly in your own power: whereas you have no other right but Patience towards Fortune. Nulla placida quies est, 
Senec. Epist. 56.  nisi quam ratio composuit. I see the reason of this Advertisement, and see it perfectly well; but he might sooner have done, and have spoken more pertinently, in bidding me in one word, Be wise. This resolution is beyond Wisdom, 'tis her work and product. Thus the Physician lies preaching to a poor languishing Patient to be cheerful, but he would advise him a little more discreetly in bidding him be well. For my part, I am but a man of the common sort. 'Tis a wholesome Precept, certain, and easy to be understood, Be content with what you have, that is to say, with reason: and yet to follow this advice, is no more in the power of the wise men of the World than in me: 'tis a common saying, but of a terrible extent: what does it not comprehend? All things fall under discretion and qualification. I know very well, that to take it by the letter, this pleasure of travelling is a testimony of uneasiness and irresolution, and also those two are our governing and predominating qualities. Yes, I do confess they are: I see nothing, not so much as in a dream, and in a wish, whereon I could set up my rest: Variety only, and the possession of diversity, can satisfy me, if any thing can. In travelling, it pleases me that I may stay where I like without inconvenience, and that I have wherewithal commodiously to divert myself. I love a private life, because 'tis my own choice that I love it, not by any dissenting from, or dislike of the public way of living, which peradventure is as much according to my Complexion. I serve my Prince more cheerfully, because it is by the free election of my own Judgement and Reason, without any particular obligation; and that I am not compelled so to do, for being rejected or disliked by the other Party; and so of all the rest. I hate the morsels that necessity carves me. I should think that the greatest convenience upon which I were only to depend, had me by the throat: 

Alter remus aquas, alter mihi radat arenas. 
Prop. l. 3. Eleg. 2.    

Let me in water plunge one Oar,  
And with the other rake the shore.   One cord will never hold me fast enough. You will say there is vanity in this way of living. But where not? Both these fine Precepts are vanity, and all Wisdom is vanity. Dominus novit cogitationes sapientium, quoniam vanae sunt. These exquisite subtleties are only fit for Sermons. They are Discourses that will send us all saddled into the other World. Life, as a material and corporal motion, an action imperfect and irregular of its own proper Essence, I make it my business to serve it according to itself. 


Aen. lib. 6.  Quisque suos patimur manes.   

We all are punished for our proper crimes.   Sic est faciendum, 
Cic. de Off. lib. 1.  ut contra naturam universam nihil contendamus: ea tamen conservata, propriam sequantur. We must so order it, as by no means to contend against Universal Nature; but yet, that Rule being observed, to follow our own. To what end are these elevated points of Philosophy, upon which no humane Being can rely? and those Rules that exceed both our Use and Force? I see that we have oft Images of Life set before us, which neither the Proposer nor those that hear him have any manner of hope, nor which is more, of inclination to follow. Of the same sheet of Paper whereon the Judge has but just writ a Sentence against an Adulterer, he steals a piece whereon to write a Love-Letter to his Companions Wife. She whom you have but just now entertained in your Embraces, will presently, even in your own hearing, aloud, more inveigh against the same fault in her Companion than a Porcia. And such there are, who will condemn men to death for Crimes that they do not themselves repute so much as faults. I have in my youth seen a man in good Habit, with one hand present the People with Verses that excelled both in Wit and Debauchery, and with the other, at the same time, the most seditious Theological Reformation that the World has been treated withal these many years. Men proceed at this rate; We let the Laws and Precepts follow their way; ourselves keep another course; not only by debauchery of Manners, but ofttimes by Judgement and contrary Opinion. Do but hear a Philosophical Lecture; the Invention, Eloquence, and Pertinency immediately work upon your Mind, and move you; There is nothing that either flatters or reprehends your Conscience; 'tis not to it that they address. Is not this true? This made Aristo say, that neither a Bath nor a Lecture did signify any thing, unless they scoured and made men clean. One may stop at the outward skin; but 'tis after the marrow is picked out: as after having quaffed off the Wine out of a fine Bowl, we consider the graving and workmanship. In all the Courts of ancient Philosophy this is to be found, that the same Philosophy Reader does there publish the Rule of Temperance, and at the same time Lectures of Love and Wantonness. And Xenophon, even in the bosom of Clinias, writ against the Aristippick virtue. 'Tis not that there is any miraculous conversion in it that makes them thus waving, but because Solon represents sometimes in his own Person, and sometimes in that of a Legislator. One while he speaks for the crowd, and another for himself; taking the free and natural Rules for his own share, assuring himself of a firm and established health and vigour. 


Juv. Sat. 13.  Curentur dubii medicis majoribus aegri.   


Sir Robert Stapleton.  Great Doctors must do desperate Patients good.   Antisthenes' allowed a Sage to love, 
A Sage permitted to love.  and do whatever he saw opportune, without regard to the Laws; forasmuch as he was better advised than they, and had a greater knowledge of Virtue. His Disciple Diogenes said, that men to Perturbations were to oppose Reason, to Fortune Confidence, and to the Laws Nature. For tender Stomaches, forced and artificial Recipes must be prescribed: good and strong Stomaches serve themselves simply with the prescriptions of their own natural appetite. After this manner do our Physicians proceed, who eat Melons and drink Icét wines, whilst they confine their Patients to Syrups and Panades. I know not, said the Courtesan Lais, what they talk of Books, Wisdom, and Philosophy, but those men knock as oft at my door as any other,. At the same rate that our licence carries us beyond what is lawful and allowed, men have often, beyond the universal Reason, stretched and tentered the Precepts and Rules of Life. 

Nemo satis credit tantum delinquere quantum 
Juven. Sat. 14.   
Permittas.—   

None sins just so far as he hath in charge, 
Sir Rob. Stapleton.   
But at his pleasure will his Vice enlarge.   It were to be wished, that there were more proportion betwixt the Command and the Obedience, and the Mark seems to be unjust to which one cannot attain. There is no so good man, that so squares all his Thoughts and Actions to the Laws, that he is not faulty enough to deserve hangging ten times in his Life. Nay, and such a one too, as it were great Pity to make away, and very unjust to punish. 

— Olle, 
Mart. lib. 7. Ep. 9  quid ad te  
De cute quid faciat ille vel illa sua?   

Olus, what is't to thee  
What with themselves does he or she?   And such a one there may be, as has no way offended the Laws, who nevertheless would not deserve the Character of a virtuous man, and that Philosophy would justly condemn to be whipped; so unequal and perplexed is this relation. We are so far from being good men, according to the Laws of God, that we cannot be so according to our own. Humane wisdom could never yet arrive at the Duty as it had itself prescribed; and could it arrive there, it would still prescribe itself others beyond it, to which it would ever aspire and pretend; so great an enemy to consistency is our humane condition. Man enjoins himself to be necessarily in fault. He is not very discreet to cut out his own Duty by the measure of any other Being than his own. To whom does he prescribe that which he does not expect any one should perform? Is he unjust in not doing what it is impossible for him to do? The Laws which condemn us not to be able, condemn us for not being able. At the worst hand, this difform liberty of presenting themselves two several ways, the Actions after one manner, and the Discourses after another way, be allowed to those who only speak of things; but it cannot be allowed to those who speak themselves, as I do; I must march my pen as I do my feet. The common Life ought to have communication with the other Lives. The Virtue of Cato was vigorous beyond the Reason of the Age he lived in, and for a man whose province it was to make one in the governing others, doubtless dedicated to the Public Service; and yet it might be called a Justice, if not unjust, at least vain, and out of season. Even my own manners, which have not above an inch of singularity in them above those that are current amongst us, render me nevertheless a little odd and unsociable to the Age I live in. I know not whether it be without reason that I am disgusted with the World I frequent; but I know very well that it would be without reason, should I complain of its being disgusted with me, seeing I am so with it. The Virtue that is assigned to the Affairs of the World, is a Virtue of many wavings, corners, and elbows, to join and adapt itself to humane Frailty, mixed, and artificial; not straight, clean, constant, nor purely innocent. Our Annals to this very day reproach one of our Kings for suffering himself simply to be carried away by the conscientious Persuasions of his Confessor. Affairs of State have bolder Precepts. 

exeat Aula 
Lucret. l. 8.   
Qui vult esse pius.   

Let him who will be good from Court retire.   I have formerly tried to employ in the management of public Affairs, Opinions and Rules of living, as rude, new, unpolished, or unpolluted, as either born with me, or brought away from my education, and wherewith I serve my own turn, if not so commodiously, at least as securely, in my own particular Concerns: but I have found a scolastick and novice Virtue, foolish and dangerous. He that goes into a Crowd, must now go one way, and then another, keep his Elbows close, retire, or advance, and quit the direct way, according to what he encounters; and must live not so much according to his own Method, as that of others; not according to what he proposes to himself, but according to what is proposed to him: according to the Time, according to Men, according to Occasions. Plato says, that whoever escapes from the World's handling with clean Breeches, escapes by Miracle: and says withal, that when he appoints his Philosopher the head of a Government, he does not mean a corrupt one like that of Athens, and much less such a one as this of ours, wherein Wisdom itself would be to seek. And a good Herb transplanted into a soil very contrary to its own nature, much sooner conforms itself to the Soil, than it reforms the Soil to it. I find, that if I were wholly to apply myself to such Employments, it would require a great deal of change and new modelling in me before I could be any way fit for it. And though I could so far prevail upon myself, (and why might I not with Time and Diligence work such a feat) I would not do it. By the little trial I have had of public Employment, it has been so much disgust to me; I feel by times some Temptations toward Ambition rising in my Soul, but I obstinately oppose them. 


Catul. Epig. 8.  At tu, Catulle, obstinatus obdura.   

But oh Catullus, be thou obstinate.   I am seldom called to it, and as seldom offer myself uncalled. Liberty and Laziness, the Qualities most predominant in me, are Qualities diametrically contrary to that trade. We cannot distinguish the Faculties of men. They have divisions and limits hard and delicate to choose. To conclude from the discreet conduct of a private Life, a Capacity for the mannagement of public Affairs, is to conclude it ill. A man may govern himself well, that cannot govern others so, and compose Essays, that could not work Effects. Such a one may be, who can order a Siege well, that would ill marshal a Battle, and that can speak well in private, who would ill harangue a People, or a Prince. Nay, 'tis peradventure rather a Testimony in him who can do the one, that he cannot do the other, than otherwise. I find that elevated Souls are not much more proper for low things, than mean Souls are to● high ones. Could it be imagined that Socrates should have administered occasion of laughter at the expense of his own Reputation to the Athenians, for having never been able to sum up the Votes of his Tribe, to deliver it to the Counsel. Doubtless the Veneration I have for the Perfections of this great man, deserves that Fortune should furnish, for the excuse of my principal imperfections, so magnific an Example. Our sufficiency is cut out into small parcels, mine has no latitude, and is also very contemptible in number. Saturninus, to those who had conferred upon him the command in chief, Companions, said he, you have lost a good Captain, to make him an ill General. Whoever boasts, in so sick a time as this, to employ a true and sincere Virtue in the World's Service, either knows it not, Opinions growing corrupt with manners, (and in truth to hear them describe it, to glorify themselves in their Deportments, and to lay down their Rules; instead of painting Virtue, they paint pure Vice and Injustice, and so represent them false in the education of Princes) or if he does know it, boasts unjustly, and let him say what he will, does a thousand things of which his own Conscience must necessarily accuse him. I should willingly take Seneca's Word, of the Experience he made upon the like Occasion, provided he would deal clearly and sincerely with me. The most honourable mark of Goodness in such a Necessity, is freely to confess both his own Fault, and those of others; with the Power of his Virtue to stop his Inclination toward Evil, unwillingly to follow this propension, to hope better, to desire better. I perceive that in these unhappy Divisions wherein we are miserably involved in France, every one does his best to defend, and by Argument to make good his Cause; but even the very best with Dissimulation and Disguise. He that would write roundly of the true state of the Quarrel, would write rascally and viciously. What is the most just Party, other than a Member of a decayed and wormeaten Body? But of such a Body, the Member that is least affected, is said to be sound, and with good reason, forasmuch as our Qualities have no title but in Comparison. The Civil Innocency is measured according to Times and Places. I loved to read in Xenophon this Commendation of Agesilaus; being entreated by a neighbouring Prince with whom he had formerly had War, to permit him to pass through his Country; he granted his request, giving him free passage through Peloponnesus, and not only did not imprison, or poison him, being at his mercy, but courteously received him according to the Obligation of his Promise, without doing him any the least Injury or Offence. To such Humours as these, this was an Act of no great lustre; elsewhere, and in another Age, the Frankness and Magnanimity of such an Action will be in high esteem. 
The Students of Montagne College in Paris.  Our Crackrope Capets would have laughed at it, so little does the Spartan Innocence resemble that of France. We are not without virtuous men, but 'tis according to what we repute so. Whoever has his Manners established in Regularity above the Standard of the Age he lives in, let him either wrest, or blunt his Rules; or, which I would rather advise him to, let him retire, and not meddle with us at all. What will he get by't? 

Egregium sanctumque virum si cerno, 
Juven. Sat. 13.  bimembri  
Hoc monstrum Puero, & miranti jam sub arato  
Piscibus inventis & foetae comparo Mulae.   

To me an honest man more monster seems 
Sir Robert Stapleton.   
Than Nature shakes all when a Woman teems  
A Child with two Heads; than Mules foaling found,  
Or wondrous Fishes ploughed out from the Ground.   A man may regret better times, but cannot fly from the present; we may wish for other Magistrates, but we must notwithstanding obey those we have; and peradventure 'tis more laudable to obey the bad than the good. So long as the Image of the ancient and received Laws of this Monarchy shall shine in any corner of the Kingdom, there will I be. If they unfortunately happen to thwart and contradict one another, so as to produce two Factions of doubtful and difficult choice, I will willingly choose to withdraw and escape the Tempest. In the mean time Nature, or the hazards of War may lend me a helping hand. Betwixt Caesar and Pompey, I should soon and frankly have declared myself; but amongst the three Robbers that came after, a man must have been necessitated either to hide himself, or have gone along with the current of the time; which I think a man may lawfully do, when Reason no longer Rules. 

Quo diversus abis?   

Whither dost thou wand'ring run?   This medley is a little from my Subject. I go out of my way, but 'tis rather upon the account of licence than oversight. My Fancies follow one another, but sometimes at a great distance; and look towards one another, but 'tis with an oblique glance. I have read a Dialogue of Plato, of such a motley and fantastic Composition, as had the beginning of Love, and all the rest to the end of Rhetoric. They stick not at these Variations, and have a marvellous Grace in letting themselves be carried away at the pleasure of the Wind; or at least to seem as if they were. The titles of my Chapters do not always comprehend the whole matter, they oft but denote it by some mark only, as these others, Andrea, Eunuchus; or these, Sylla, Cicero, Torquetus. I love a Poetic March, by leaps and skips; 'tis an Art, as Plato says, light, nimble, and a little maddish. There are pieces in Plutarch, where he forgets his Theme, where the Proposition of his Argument is only found by incidence; and stuffed throughout with foreign matter. Do but observe his footing in the Daemon of Socrates. Good God, how beautiful then, are his variations and digressions, and then most of all, when they seem to be fortuitous, and introduced for want of heed. 'Tis the indiligent Reader that loses my Subject, and not I; there will always be found some words or other in a corner that are to be purpose, though it lie very close. I ramble indiscreetly and tumultuously, my Style and my Wit wander at the same rate; a little Folly is tolerable in him that will not be guilty of too much, says both the Precepts; and more the Examples of our Masters. A thousand Poet's flag and languish after a Prosaic manner, but the best old Prose (and I strew them here up and down indifferently for Verses) shines throughout, and has the lustre▪ vigour, and boldness of Poetry, not without some Air of its Fury; and certainly Prose ought to have the Pre-eminence in speaking▪ The Poet, says Plato, when set upon the Muse's Tripod, pours out with Fury whatever comes into his Mouth, like the Pipe of a Fountain, without considering and pausing upon what he says; and things come from him of various colours, of a contrary substance, and with an uninterrupted torrent: And all the old Theology, as the wise inform us, and the first Philosophy, are Poesy. 'Tis the original Language of the Gods; I mean, that my matter distinguishes itself; it sufficiently shows where it changes, where it concludes, when it begins, and where it rejoins, without interlacing it with words of connexion, introduced for the relief of weak or negligent Ears, and without explaining myself. Who is he that had not rather not be read at all, than after a drowsy or cursory manner? 
Seneca Epist. 2.  Nihil est tam utile, quod in transitu prosit. Nothing can be so profitable, as to be so when negligently read. If to take a Book in hand, were to read it, to look upon it were to consider it, and to run it slightly over, were to make it a man's own; I were then to blame to make myself so ignorant, as I say I am. Seeing I cannot fix the Attention of my Reader by the weight of what I write, Manco male, I am much mistaken, if I should chance to do it by my Intricacies; nay, he will afterward repent that he ever perplexed himself about it: 'tis very true, but he will yet be there perplexed. And besides, there are some Humours in which Intelligence produces disdain; who will think better of me for not understanding what I say, and will conclude the depth by the obscurity of my Sense; which, to speak sincerely, I mortally hate, and would avoid it if I could. Aristotle boasts some where in his Writings, that he affected it; vicious Affectation. The frequent Breaks, and short Paragraphs in Chapters that I made my Method in the beginning of my Book, I have since thought, broke and dissolved the Attention before it was raised, as making it disdain to settle itself to so little; and upon that account have made the rest longer, such as require Propositions, and assigned leisure. In such an Employment, to whom you will not give an hour, you give nothing; and do nothing for him, for whom you only do whilst you are doing something else. To which may be added, that I have peradventure some particular Obligation to speak only by halves, to speak confusedly and discordantly. I am therefore angry at this kind of perplexing Reason; these extravagant Projects that trouble a man's Life, and those Opinions so fine and subtle, that though they be true, I think them too dear bought. On the contrary, I make it my business to bring Vanity itself in repute, and Folly too, if it bring me any Pleasure; and permit me to follow my own natural Inclinations, without carrying too strict a hand upon them. I have seen elsewhere Palaces in rubbish, and Statues both of Gods and Men defaced, and yet there are men still; all this is true, and yet for all that, I cannot so often review the ruins of that so great, and so puissant City, 
Meaning Rome.  that I do not admire and reverence it. The care of the dead is recommended to us; besides, I have been bred up from my Infancy with these People: I had knowledge of the Affairs of Rome long before I had any of those of my own House. I knew the Capitol, and its platform, before I knew the Lovure; and the River Tiber, before I knew the River Seine. The Qualities and Fortunes of Lucullus, Metellus, and Scipio, have ever run more in my Head than those of any of my own Country. They are all dead, and so is my Father as absolutely dead as they; and is removed as far from me and Life in eighteen years, as they are in sixteen hundred; whose Memory nevertheless, Friendship and Society, I do not cease to hug and embrace with a very perfect and lively Union. 
Gratitude towards the dead.  Nay, of my own Inclination, I render myself more officious to the dead; they no longer help themselves, and therefore methinks the more require my assistance: 'tis there that Gratitude appears in its full lustre. Benefits are not so generously placed where there is Retrogradation and Reflection. Arcesilaus going to visit Ctesibius who was sick, and finding him in a very poor Condition, privately conveyed some Money under his Pillow; and, by concealing it from him, acquitted him moreover from the acknowledgement due to such a Benefit. Such as have merited from me my Friendship and Gratitude, have never lost them by being no more; I have better and more carefully paid them, when gone, and ignorant of what I did. I speak most kindly and affectionately of my Friends when they can no more know it. I have had a hundred quarrels in defending Pompey, and upon the account of Brutus. This Acquaintance does yet continue betwixt us. We have no other hold even of present things but by Fancy. Finding myself of no use to this Age, I throw myself back upon that other; and am so enamoured of the free, just, and flourishing Estate of that ancient Rome (for I neither love it in its birth, nor old age,) that I interest myself in it to a degree of Passion; and therefore cannot so oft review the situation of their Streets and Houses, and Ruins as profound as the Antipodes, that it does not always put me into a Dump. Is it by Nature, or through error of Fancy, that the sight of Places which we know have been frequented and inhabited by Persons whose Memories are recommended in Story, does in some sort work more upon us than to hear a recital of their Acts, or to read their Writings? 
Cic. de fin. lib. 5.  Tanta vis admonitionis inest in locis. Et id quidem in hac urbe infinitum: quacumque enim ingredimur: in aliquam historiam vestigium ponimus. So great a power of Admonition is in Places; and truly in this City so infinite, that which way soever we go we tread upon some History. It pleases me to consider their Face, Port, and Vestments. I ruminate those great Names betwixt my Teeth, and make them ring in my own Ears. Ego illos veneror, & tantis nominibus semper assurgo. 
Seneca. Epist. 64.  I reverence them, and rise up in honour of so great Names. Of things that are in some part great and admirable, I admire even the common Parts. I could wish to see them talk, walk, and sup together. It were Ingratitude to contemn the Relics and Images of so many worthy and valiant Men as I have seen live and die, and who by their Example give us so many good Instructions, knew we how to follow them. And moreover, this very Rome that we now see deserves to be beloved; so long, and by so many Titles a confederate to our Crown; the only common and universal City. 
Rome the common and universal City.  The Sovereign Magistrate that Commands there, is equally acknowledged and obeyed elsewhere: 'tis the Metropolitan City of all the Christian Nations. The Spanish and French are there at home. To be a Prince of this Estate, there needs no more but to be a Prince of Christendom. There is no Place upon Earth, that Heaven has embraced with such an influence and constancy of favour; her very Ruins are glorious. 

Laudandis preciosior ruinis.   

More glorious by her Ruins made. 
Sydonius Apol.    She yet in her very Ruins retains the marks and image of Empire. Vt palam sit uno in loco gaudentis opus esse Naturae. That it may be manifest that Nature is in one place enamoured of her own Work. Some one would blame, and be angry at himself, to perceive himself tickled with so vain a Pleasure. Our Humours are never too vain that are pleasant. Let them be what they would that did constantly content an honest man of common Understanding, I could not have the heart to accuse him. I am very much obliged to Fortune, in that to this very hour she has offered me no outrage beyond what I was well able to bear. Is it not happily her Custom to let those live in quiet by whom she is not importuned? 

Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit, 
Hor. lib. 3. Ode. 16.   
A Diis plura feret, nil cupientium,  
Nudus castra peto, multa petentibus,  
Desunt multa.   

The more a man himself denies, 
Sir Richard Fanshaw.   
The more indulgent Heaven bestows;  
Let them that will side with the I's,  
I'm with the Party of the No's.   If she continue her favour, she will dismiss me very well satisfied. 

nihil supra  

Hor. lib. 2. Ode. 16.  Deos lacesso   

Nor for more  
Do I the Gods implore.   But beware the shock. There are a thousand that perish in the Port. I easily comfort myself for what shall here happen when I shall be gone. Present things trouble me enough; 

Fortunae caetera mando.   

To Fortune I do leave the rest.   Besides, I have not that strong Obligation, that they say ties men to the future, by the Issue that succeeds to their Name and Honour; and peradventure ought less to covet them, if they are to be so much desired. I am but too much tied to the World, and to this Life of myself: I am content to be in Fortune's power by Circumstances properly necessary to my Being, without otherwise enlarging her Jurisdiction over me, and have never thought, that to be without Children was a defect that ought to render Life less complete, or less contented. A sterile Vacation has its conveniencies too. Children are of the number of things that are not so much to be desired, 
Children not much to be coveted, and why. Tertull. de pudicit.  especially now, that it would be so hard to make them good. Bona jam nec nasci licet, ita corrupta sunt semina. And yet are justly to be lamented by such as lose them when they have them. He who left me my House in charge, foretell that I was like to ruin it, considering my Humour so little inclined to look after household Affairs: But he was mistaken, for I am in the same condition now as when I first entered into it, or rather better; and yet without Office, or any Place of profit. As to the rest, if Fortune has never done me any violent or extraordinary injury, neither has she done me any particular favour. Whatever we derive from her Bounty, was there above an hundred years before my time. I have, as to my own particular, no essential and solid good, that I stand indebted for to her Liberality; she has indeed done me some airy Honours, and titulary Favours without substance, and those in truth she has not granted, but offered me, who, God knows, am all material, and who take nothing but what is real and massy too for current pay: and who, if I durst confess so much, should not think Avarice much less excusable than Ambition, nor Pain less to be avoided than Shame, nor Healthless to be coveted than Learning, or Riches than Nobility. Amongst those empty Favours of hers, there is none that so much pleases the vain Humour natural to my Country, as an Authentic Bull of a Roman Burgess, that was granted me when I was last there, glorious in Seals and gilded Letters; and granted with all imaginable Ceremony and Bounty. And because 'tis couched in a mixed Style, more or less and that I could have been glad to have seen a Copy of it before it had passed the Seal: I will, to satisfy such as are sick of the same curiosity I am, transcribe it here in its true form.  Quod Horatius Maximus, Martius Cecius, Alexander Mutus, almae urbis conservatores de Illustrissimo viro Michaele Montano equity Sancti Michaelis, & á Cubiculo Regis Christianissimi, Romana Civitate donando, ad Senatum retulerunt, S. P. Q. R. de ea re ita fieri censuit. 
CVm veteri more, & instituto cupidè illi semper studioséque suscepti sint, qui virtute ac nobilitate praestantes, magno Reip. nostrae usui atque ornamento fuissent, vel esse aliquando possent: Nos majorum nostrorum exemplo, atque auctoritate permoti, praeclaram hanc Consuetudinem nobis imitandam, ac servandam fore censemus. Quamobrem cum Illustrissimus Michael Montanus Eques Sancti Michaelis, & 〈◊〉 Cubiculo Regis Christianissimi, Romani nominis studiosissimus, & familiae laude, atque splendore, & propriis virtutum meritis dignissimus sit, qui summo Senatus Populique Romani judicio, ac study in Romanam Civitatem adsciscatur, placere Senatui P. Q. R. Illustrissimum, Michaele● Montanum rebus omnibus ornatissimum, atque huic inclyto populo charissimum, ipsum posterosque in Romanam Civitatem adscribi, ornarique omnibus, & praemiis & honoribus, quibis illi fruuntur, qui Cives Patritiique Romani nati, aut jure optimo facti sunt. In quo censere Senatum P. Q. R. se non tam illi jus Civitatis largiri, quam debitum tribuere, neque magis beneficium dare, quam ab ipso accipere, qui hoc Civitatis munere accipiendo, singulari Civitatem ipsam ornamento, atque honore affecerit. Quam S. C. auctoritatem iidem Conservatores per Senatus R. Q. R. scribas in acta referri atque in Capitolii curia servari, privilegiumque hujusmodi fieri, solitoque urbis sigillo communiri curarunt. Anno ab urbe condita CXↃCCCXXXI. Post Christum natum M.D.LXXXI. III Idus Martii. 
Horatius Fuscus Sacri S. P. Q. R. scriba.  
Vincent. Martholus Sacri S.P. Q. R. scriba.  Being before Burgess of no City at all, I am glad to be created one, of the most Noble that ever was, or ever shall be. If other men would consider themselves at the rate I do, they would, as I do, discover themselves to be full of inanity and foppery; to rid myself of it I cannot, without making myself away. We are all leavened with it, as well one as another; but they who are aware on't, have the better bargain, and yet I know not whether they have or no: This Opinion, and common Usance, to observe others more than ourselves, has very much relieved us that way. 'Tis a very displeasing Object: We can there see nothing but Misery and Vanity. Nature, that we may not be dejected with the sight of our own Deformities, has wisely thrust the action of Seeing outward. We go forward with the Current, but to turn back towards ourselves is a painful motion; so is the Sea moved and troubled when the Waves rush against one another. Observe, says every one, the motion of the Heavens, the Revolution of public Affairs; observe the quarrel of such a Person, take notice of such a ones Pulse, of such another's last Will and Testament; in sum, be always looking high or low, on one side, before, or behind you. It was a Paradoxical command anciently given us by the God of Delphos, Look into yourself, discover yourself, keep close to yourself; call back your Mind and Will, that elsewhere consumes themselves into yourself; you run out, you spill yourself, carry a more steady hand: men betray you, men spill you, men steal you from yourself. Dost thou not see that this World we live in keeps all its sights confined within, and its Eyes open to contemplate itself? 'Tis always Vanity for thee, both within and without, but 'tis less Vanity when less extended. Excepting thee, (O man) said that God, every thing studies itself first, and has bounds to its Labours and Desires, according to its need. There is nothing so empty and necessitous as thou who embracest the Universe, thou art the Explorator without Knowledge, the Magistrate without Jurisdiction; and after all, the Fool in the Play.   

CHAP. X. Of managing the Will.  
FEW things, in comparison of what commonly affect other men, move, or to say better, possess me: for 'tis but Reason they should concern a man, provided they do not possess him. I am very solicitous, both by Study and Argument, to enlarge this privilege of Insensibility, which is in me naturally raised to a pretty degree; so that consequently I espouse, and am very much moved with very few things. I am clear sighted enough, but I fix upon very few Objects; have a sense delicate and tender enough, but an Apprehension and Application hard and negligent; I am very unwilling to engage myself. As much as in me lies, I employ myself wholly for myself; and in this very Subject, should rather choose to curb and restrain my Affection from plunging itself over Head and Ears into it, it being a Subject that I possess at the mercy of others, and over which Fortune has more right than I. So that even so much as to health, which I so much value, it were necessary for me, not so passionately to covet and desire it, as to find Diseases insupportable. A man ought to moderate himself betwixt the hatred of Pain, and of love of Pleasure. And Plato sets down a middle Path of Life betwixt both. But against such Affections as wholly carry me away from myself, and fix me elsewhere; against those, I say, I oppose myself with my utmost force and power. 'Tis my Opinion, that a man should lend himself to others, and only give himself to himself. Were my Will easy to lend itself out, and to be swayed, I should not stick there: I am too tender both by nature and usance, 


Ovid de Trist. l. 3. Eleg. 2. — fugax rerum, securaque in otia natus.   

Born, and bred up in negligence and ease.   hot and obstinate disputes wherein my Adversary would at last have the better. The issue that would render my heat and obstinacy disgraceful, would peradventure vex me to the last degree. Should I set myself to it at the rate that others, who do pursue and grasp at so much, my Soul would never have the force to bear the Emotion and Alarms; it would immediately be disordered by this inward Agitation. If sometimes I have been put upon the management of other men's Affairs, I have promised to take it in hand, but not into my Lungs and Liver; to take it upon me, not to incorporate it; to take pains, not be passionate in it; I have a care of it, but I will not brood upon it: I have enough to do to order and govern the domestic Tumults that I have in my own Veins and Bowels, without introducing a crowd of other men's Affairs; and am sufficiently concerned about my own proper and natural Business, without meddling with the concerns of others. Such as know how much they owe to themselves, and how many Offices they are bound to of their own, find, that Nature has cut them out work enough of their own to keep them from being idle. Thou hast Business enough at home, look to that. Men let themselves out to hire, their Faculties are not for themselves, but to be employed for those to whom they have enslaved themselves; this common Humour pleases not me. We must be thrifty of the liberty of our Souls, and never let them out but upon just Occasions, which are very few, if we judge aright. Do but observe such as have accustomed themselves to be at every ones call, they do it indifferently upon all, as well little as great Occasions, in that which nothing concerns them, as much as in what imports them most: They intrude themselves indifferently where ever there is business, and are without Life, when not in the bustle of Affairs. In negotiis sunt, 
Seneca. Epist. 22.  negotii causa. They only seek business for business sake. It is not so much that they will go, as it is that they cannot stand still: Like a rolling Stone that cannot stop till it can go no farther. Business, in a certain sort of men, is a mark of Understanding, and they are honoured for it. Their Souls seek repose in Agitation, as Children do by being rocked in a Cradle. They may pronounce themselves as serviceable to their Friends, as troublesome to themselves. No one distributes his Money to others, but every one therein distributes his Time and his Life. There is nothing of which we are so prodigal, as of those two things, of which to be thrifty, would be both commendable and useful. I am of a quite contrary Humour. I look to myself, and commonly covet with no great ardour what I do desire, and desire little, employ and busy myself but rarely and temperately, at the same rate. Whatever they take in hand, they do it with their utmost power and vehemency. There are therein so many dangerous steps, that for the more safety, we must a little lightly and superficially slide through the World, and not rush through it. Pleasure itself is painful at the bottom.  


Hor. lib. 2. Ode. 2. — incedis per ignes,  
Subpositos cineri doloso.   

Thou upon glowing Coals does tread,  
Under deceitful Ashes hid.   
The Parliament of Bourdeaux chose me Mayor of their City, at a time when I was at a great distance from France, and much more remote from any such thought; I entreated to be excused, and refused it. But I was told by my Friends, that I had committed an Error in so doing, and the greater, because the King had moreover interposed his Command in that Affair. 'Tis an Office that ought to be looked upon so much more Honourable, as it has no other Salary nor advantage than the bare honour of its Execution: It continues two years, but may be extended by a second Election, which very rarely happens: it was to me, and had never been so but twice before: some years ago to Monsieur de Lansac, and lately to Monsieur de Byron, marshal of France, in whose place I succeeded, and left mine to Monsieur de Matignon, marshal of France also. Proud of so noble a Fraternity. 

Vterque bonus pacis bellique minister. 
Aeneid. lib. 10.    

Both of them men of worthy Character,  
For able Ministers in Peace and War.   Fortune would have a hand in my Promotion, by this particular Circumstance which she put in of her own; not altogether vain; for Alexander disdained the Ambassadors of Corinth, who came to make him a tender of a Burgessship of their City; but when they proceeded to lay before him, that Bacchus and Hercules were also in the Register, he thankfully accepted the offer. At my arrival, I faithfully and conscientiously represented myself to them for such as I find myself to be; a man without Memory, without Vigilancy, without Experience, and without Vigour; but withal, without Hatred, without Ambition, without Avarice, and without Violence, that they might be informed of my Qualities, and know what they were to expect from my Service. And being that the knowledge they had had of my Father, and the Honour they had for his Memory, had been the only Motives to confer this Favour upon me: I plainly told them, that I should be very sorry any thing should make so great an Impression upon me as their Affairs, and the Concerns of their City had done upon him, whilst he had the same Government to which they had preferred me. I very well remember, from a Boy, to have seen him in his old Age, tormented with, and solicitous about the public Affairs, neglecting the soft repose of his own House, to which the declension of his Age had reduced him for several years before; the management of his own Affairs, and his Health, and certainly despising his own Life, which was in great danger of being lost, by being engaged in long and painful Voyages on their behalf. Such was he, and this Humour of his proceeded from a marvellous good Nature. Never was there a more charitable and popular Soul. Yet this proceeding which I commend in others, I do not love to follow myself, and am not without excuse. He had learned, that a man must forget himself for his Neighbour, and that particulars were in no manner of consideration in comparison with the general Concern. Most of the Rules and Precepts of this World run this way, to drive us out of ourselves into the wide World for the benefit of public Society. They thought to do a great Feat, to divert us from ourselves, presuming we were but too much fixed at home, and by a too natural Inclination, and have said all they could to that purpose: for 'tis no new thing for wise men to preach things as they serve, not as they are. Truth has its Obstructions, Inconveniencies, and Incompatibilities with us. We must be often deceived, that we may not deceive ourselves; Shut our Eyes, and stupefy our Understandings to redress and amend them. Imperiti enim judicant, & qui frequenter in hoc ipsum fallendi sunt, ne errent. For the ignorant judge, and therefore are oft to be deceived lest they should err. When they prescribe us to love three, four, and fifty degrees of things above ourselves, they do like Archers, who to hit the white, take their aim a great deal higher than the Butt. To set a crooked stick straight, we bend it the contrary way. I believe, that in the Temple of Pallas, as we see in all other Religions, there were apparent Mysteries to be exposed to the People, and others more secret and high, that were only to be shown to such as were professed. 'Tis likely that in these, the true point of Friendship that every own owes to himself is to be found; not a false Friendship, that makes us embrace Glory, Knowledge, Riches, and the like, with a principal and immoderate Affection, as Members of our Being: nor an indiscreet and effeminate Friendship, wherein it happens as with Ivy, that decays and ruins the Walls it does embrace: but a sound and regular Friendship, equally utile and pleasant. Who knows the Duties of this Friendship, and does practise them, is truly of the Cabinet-Counsel of the Muses, and has attained to the height of humane Wisdom, and our Happiness. Such a one exactly knowing what he owes to himself, will in his part find that he ought to apply the usance of the World, and of other men to himself, and to do this, to contribute the Duties and Offices appertaining to him, to the public Society. Who does not in some sort live to others, does not live much to himself. 
Seneca. Ep. 48.  Qui sibi amicus est, scito hunc amicum omnibus esse. He who is his own Friend, is a Friend to every body else. The principal charge we have, is, to every own his own conduct: And 'tis for this only that we here live. As he who should forget to live a virtuous and holy Life, and should think he acquitted himself of his Duty in instructing and training others up to it, would be a Fool; even so, who abandons his own particular healthful and pleasant living to serve others, taketh, in my Opinion, a wrong and an unnatural course. I would not that men should refuse, in the Employments they take upon them, their Attention, Pains, their best Eloquence, and their Sweat and Blood, in time of need; 


Hor. lib. 4. Ode. 9  non ipse pro charis amicis  
Aut patria timidus perire.   


Sir Richard Fanshaw.  He well knows how hard want to bear  
And fears a Crime more than his end,  
And for his Country, or his Friend,  
To stake his Life he does not fear.   But 'tis only borrowed, and accidentally; his Mind being always in Repose, and in Health, not without Action, but without Vexation, without Passion. To be simply doing, costs him so little, that he acts even sleeping. But it must be set on going with Discretion; for the Body receives the Offices imposed upon it, just according to what they are; the Mind oft extends and makes them heavier at its own Expense, giving them what measure it pleases. Men perform like things with several sorts of Endeavour, and different Contention of Wit; the one does well enough without the other. For how many People hazard themselves every day in War without any concern which way it goes; and thrust themselves into the dangers of Battles, the loss of which will not break their next Night's sleep? And such a man may be at home, out of Danger, which he durst not have looked upon, who is more passionately concerned for the issue of this War, and whose Soul is more anxious about Events, than the Soldier who stakes his Life and Blood in the Quarrel. I could have engaged myself in public Employments, without quitting my own Interest a nail's breadth, and have given myself to others, without abandoning myself; this sharpness and violence of desires more hinders than it advances the Execution of what we undertake; fills us with impatience against slow or contrary Events, and with heat and suspicion against those with whom we have to do. We never carry on that thing well, by which we are prepossessed and led. 

Malè cuncta ministrat  
Impetus   

For heat does still  
Carry on all things very ill.   He, who therein employs only his Judgement and Address, proceeds more cheerfully: he counterfeits, he gives way, he deferrs all things at his ease according to the necessities of occasions; he fails in his attempt without trouble and afflictions, ready and entire for a new Enterprise: he always marches with the Bridle in his hand. In him who is drunk with this violent and tyrannic intention, we discover by necessity much imprudence and injustice. The impetuosity of his desire carries him away. These are rash motions, 
That the chastisement of Offences ought to be performed without anger.  and if Fortune do not very much assist, of very little fruit. Philosophy will, that in the revenge of injuries received, we should strip ourselves of Choler; not that the Chastisement should be less, but on the contrary, that the Revenge may be the better, and more heavily laid on, which it conceives will be by this impetuosity hindered. For Anger does not only trouble, but of itself does also weary the arms of those who chastise. 
Proverb.  This fire benumms and wastes their force. As in precipitation, festinatio tarda est, Haste trips up its own heels, fetters and stops itself. 
Senec. Epist. 44.  Ipsa se velocitas implicat. For example; According to what I commonly see, Avarice has no greater impediment than it self. The more bend and vigorous it is, the less it ●akes together; and commonly sooner grows rich, when disguised in a Vizor of Liberality. A very honest Gentleman, and a particular Friend of mine, had like to have cracked his brains by a too passionate attention and affection to the Affairs of a certain Prince, his Master; Which Master has thus set himself out to me; that he foresees the weight of Accidents as well as another, but that in those for which there is no remedy, he presently resolves upon suffering; in others, having taken all the necessary precautions which by the vivacity of his understanding he can presently do, he quietly expects what may follow. And in truth, I have accordingly seen him maintain a great indifferency and liberty of actions, and serenity of countenance, in very great and nice Affairs. I find him much greater, and of greater capacity in adverse than prosperous Fortune. His Losses are to him more glorious than his Victories, and his Mourning than his Triumph. Do but consider, that even in vain and frivolous actions, as at Chess, Tennis, and the like, this eager and ardent engaging with an impetuous desire, immediately throws the Mind and Members into indiscretion and disorder. A man astonishes and hinders himself. He that carries himself the most moderately both towards gain and loss, has always his Wits about him. The less peevish and passionate he is at play, he plays much more advantageously and surely. As to the rest, we hinder the Minds seizure and hold, in giving it so many things to seize upon. Some things we are only to offer to it, to tie it to others, and with others to incorporate it. It can feel and discern all things▪ but aught to feed upon nothing but itself▪ and should be instructed in what properly concerns itself, that is properly of its own Being and Substance: The Laws of Nature teach us what we are justly to have. After the Sages have told us, that no one is indigent according to Nature, and that every one is so according to Opinion, they very subtly distinguish betwixt the desires that proceed from her, and those that proceed from the disorder of our own fancy. Those of which we can see the end are hers; those that fly before us, and of which we can see no end, are our own. The want of Goods is easily repaired, the poverty of the Soul is irreparable. 


Lucilius, lib. 5. apud Nonium.  Nam si, quod satis est homini, id satis esse potesse●,  
Hoc sat erat: nunc, quum hoc non est, qui credimus porro  
Divitias ullas animum mi explere potesse?   

If what's for man enough, enough could be,  
It were enough: but being that we see  
Will not serve turn, how can I ere believe  
That any Wealth my mind content can give.   Socrates, seeing great quantity of Riches, Jewels, and Furniture of great value, carried in pomp through the City; How many things, said he, do I not desire. Metrodorus lived on the weight of twelve ounces a day, Epicurus upon less: Metroclez slept in Winter abroad amongst Sheep, in Summer in the Cloisters of Churches. Sufficit ad id natura quod poscit. 
Seneca Epist. 90.  Cleanthes lived by labour of his own hands, and boasted, that Cleanthes, if he would, could yet maintain another Cleanthes. If that which Nature exactly and originally requires of us for the conservation of our Being, be too little, (as in truth what it is, and how good cheap Life may be maintained, cannot be better made out, than by this Consideration, that it is so little, that by its littleness escapes the gripe and shock of Fortune) let us dispense ourselves a little more, let us yet call every one of our Habits and Conditions Nature; let us tax and treat ourselves by this measure, let us stretch our appurtenances and accounts so far, for so far I fancy we have some excuse. Custom is a second Nature, and no less powerful. What is wanting to my Custom, I reckon is wanting to me; and I should be almost as well content that they took away my Life, as cut me short in the way wherein I have so long lived. I am no more in a Condition of any great change, nor to put myself into a new and unwonted course, not though never so much to my Advantage; 'tis past time for me to become other than what I am. And as I should complain of any great good Adventure that should now befall me, that it came not in time to be enjoyed; 


Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 5.  Quo mihi fortunae, si non conceditur uti?   

Might I have the World's Wealth I should refuse it,  
What good will't do me, If I may not use it.   so should I complain of any inward acquest. It were almost better, never, than so late to become an honest man; and well read in living, when a man has no longer to live. ay, who am ready to make my exit out of the World, would easily resign to any new comer, who should desire it, all the Prudence I have acquired in the World's Commerce. After Me●● comes Mustard. I have no need of Goods, of which I can make no use. Of what use i● Knowledge to him that has lost his Head? 'Tis an Injury and Unkindness in Fortune, to tender us Presents that will only inspire us with a just despite that we had them not in thei● due season. Guide me no more, I can no longer go. Of so many parts as make up a perfect man, Patience is the best. Assign the pa●● of an excellent Treble to a Chorister that ha● rotten Lungs, and Eloquence to a Hermit exiled into the Deserts of Arabia. There need● no Art to further a fall; the end finds it 〈◊〉 of itself; at the Conclusion of every Affair my World is at an end, my Form expired; I am totally past, and am bound to authorize it, an● to conform my Posterity to it. 
The Abridgement of ten days offered by the Pope.  I will here de●clare by way of Example, that the late te● days diminution of the Pope, have taken me 〈◊〉 low, that I cannot well recover myself. I follow the years wherein we kept another kind of account, so ancient, and so long a Custom, challenges and calls me back to it; so that I am constrained to be a kind of Heretic in that point, impatient of any, though corrective Innovation. My Imagination, in spite of my Teeth, always bushes me ten days forward or backward, and is ever murmuring in my Ears. This Rule concerns those who are to begin to be. If Health itself, as sweet as it is, returns to me by fits, 'tis rather to give me cause of regret, than possession of it; I have no place left to keep it in. Time leaves me, without which nothing can be possessed. Oh, what little account should I make of those great elective Dignities that I see in such esteem in the World, that are never conferred but upon men who are taking leave of it; wherein they do not so much regard how well he will discharge his trust, as how short his Administration will be; from the very Entry, they look at the exit. To conclude, I am ready to finish this man, and not to rebuild another. By long usance this Form is in me turned into Substance, and Fortune into Nature. I say therefore, that every one of us feeble Creatures is excusable in thinking that his own which is comprised under this measure; but withal, beyond these limits, 'tis nothing but Confusion, 'tis the largest extent we can grant to our own claim. The more Business we create ourselves, and the more we amplify our Possessions, so much more do we expose ourselves to the Blows and Adversities of Fortune. The career of our desires ought to be circumscribed, and restrained to a short limit of near and contiguous Conveniencies; and ought moreover to perform their Course, not in a right line, that ends elsewhere, but in a Circle, of which the two points by a short wheel meet and terminate in ourselves. Actions that are carried on without this Reflection, a near and essential Reflection I mean; such as those of ambitious and avaricious men, and many more who run point blank, and whose career always carries them before themselves, such Actions I say are erroneous and sickly: most of our Business is Farce. 
Patron. Arbit.  Mundus universus exercet Histrioniam. We must play our part well, but withal as the part of a borrowed Person; we must not make real Essence of a Vizor and outward appearance, nor of a strange Person our own; we cannot distinguish the Skin from the Shirt: 'tis enough to meal the Face without mealing the Breast. I see some, who transform and transubstantiate themselves into as many new Shapes and new Being's as they undertake Employments, and who prelate themselves even to the Heart and Liver, and carry their state along with them, even to the Close-stool: I cannot make them distinguish the Salutations are made to them from those are made to their Commission, their Train, 
Quin. Cur. lib. 3.  or their Mule. Tantum se Fortunae permittunt, etiam ut Naturam didiscant. They so much give themselves up to Fortune, as even to forget their Nature. They swell and puff up their Souls, and their natural way of speaking, according to the height of their Place. The Mayor of Bourdeaux and Montaigne have ever been two, by very manifest separation. To be an Advocate, or a Treasurer, a man must not be ignorant of the Knavery of such Callings; and yet ought not to refuse to take the Calling upon him: 'tis the usance of his Country, and there is Money to be got by it; a man must live by the World▪ and make his best of it, such as it is. But the Judgement of an Emperor ought to be above his Empire, and the seeing and considering of it, as of a foreign accident; and he ought to know how to enjoy himself apart from it, and to communicate himself as James and Peter, to himself at least. I cannot engage myself so deep and so entire; when my Will gives me to any one, 'tis not with so violent an Obligation that my Judgement is infected with it. In the present Broils of this Kingdom, my Interest has not made me forget myself, nor the laudable Qualities of some of our Adversaries, nor those that are reproachable in those of our Party. They adore all of their own side, for my part I do not so much as excuse most things in those of mine: A good Speech has never the worse grace for being made against me. The knot of the controversy excepted, I have always kept myself in equanimity and pure indifference. Neque extra necessitates belli, praecipuum odium gero. And have no express hatred beyond the Necessity of War. For which I am pleased with myself, and the more, because I see others commonly fail on the contrary side. Such as extend their anger and hatred beyond the dispute in question, as most men do, show that they spring from some other occasion and particular cause; like one who being cured of an Ulcer, has yet a remaining Fever, by which it appears that the Ulcer had another more concealed beginning; which is, that they are not concerned in the common cause, because it is wounding to the State and common Interest; but are only nettled by Reason of their private and particular Concern. This is the true Reason why they are so particularly animated, and to a degree so beyond Justice and public Reason. Non tam omnia universi, quam ea, quae ad quemque pertinent, singuli carpebant. Every one was not so much angry against things in general, as against those that particularly concerned themselves. I would have matters go well on our side, but if they do not, I shall not run mad, I am heartily for the right party; but I do not affect to be taken notice of for an especial Enemy to others, and beyond the general quarrel. I am a mortal Enemy to this vicious form of censure, He is of the League, because he admires the Duke of Guise. He is astonished at the King of Navarrs Valour and Diligence, and therefore he is a Huguenot. He finds such and such Faults in the King's Manners and Conduct, and therefore he is seditious in his Heart. And would not grant to a Magistrate himself, that he did well in condemning a Book because it had placed a Heretic amongst the best Poets of the Time. Shall we not dare to say of a Thief, that he has a handsome Leg? If a Woman be a Strumpet, must it needs follow that she has a stinking Breath? Did they in the wisest Ages revoke the proud title of Capitolinus, they had before conferred upon Marcus Manlius, as being the Conservator of Religion and the public Liberty? Did they therefore damn the Memory of his Liberality, his Feats of Arms, and Military Recompense granted to his Virtue, because he afterwards aspired to the Sovereignty, to the Prejudice of the Laws of his Country? If they take a hatred against an Advocate, he will not be allowed the next day to be eloquent. I have elsewhere spoke of the Zeal that pushed on worthy men to the like Faults. For my part, I can say, such a one does this thing ill, and another thing virtuously and well. They will likewise, that in the Prognostics, or Sinister Events of Affairs, every one should in his Party be blind, or a Blockhead, and that our Persuasion and Judgement should be subservient, not to Truth, but to the project of our desires. I should rather incline towards the other extreme, so much I fear being suborned by my desire: To which may be added, that I am a little tenderly distrustful of things that I wish. 
Facility of People in suffering themselves to be imposed upon.  I have in my time seen wonders in the indiscreet and prodigious facility of People in suffering their hopes and belief to be led and governed which way has best pleased and served their Leaders, above an hundred mistakes one upon another; and above Dreams and Phantasms. I no more wonder at those who have been blinded, and seduced by the fooleries of Apollonius and Mahomet. Their Sense and Understanding is absolutely taken away by their Passion; their Discretion has no more any other choice than that which smiles upon them, and relieves their Cause. I had principally observed this in the beginning of our intestine Distempers, th●● other which is sprung since, in imitating, has surpassed it; by which I am satisfied that it is a quality inseparable from popular Errors. After the first that rolls, Opinions drive on one another like Waves with the Wind. A man is not a member of the Body, if it be in his Power to forsake it, and if he do not roll the common way; but doubtless they wrong the just side, when they go about to assist it with Fraud. I have ever been against that Practice. They are only fit to work upon weak heads; for the found, there are surer and more honest ways to keep up their Courages, and to excuse adverse Accidents. Heaven never saw a greater Animosity than that betwixt Caesar and Pompey, nor ●ver shall; and yet I observe methinks in those brave Souls, a great moderation towards one another. It was a jealousy of Honour and Command, which did not transport them to a furious and indiscreet hatred, and that was, though hatred, without Malignity and Detraction. In their briskest and hottest Encounters, and Exploits upon one another, I discover some remains of respect and good will; and am therefore of Opinion, that had it been possible, each of them would rather have done his Business without the ruin of the other, than with it. Take notice how much otherwise Matters went with Marius and Sylla. We must not precipitate ourselves so headlong after our Affections and Interest. As when I was young, I opposed myself to the progress of Love, which I perceived to advance too fast upon me, and had a care lest it should at last become so pleasing, as to force, captivate, and wholly reduce me to his Mercy: so I do the same upon all other Occasions where my Will is running on with too warm an Appetite. I lean opposite to the side it inclines to, as I find it going to plunge and make itself drunk with its own wine; I evade nourishing its Pleasure so far, that I cannot recover it without infinite loss. Souls, that through their own Stupidity only discern things by halves, have this happiness, that they smart least with hurtful things. 'Tis a spiritual Leprosy that has some show of Health, and such a Health as Philosophy does not altogether contemn; but yet we have no Reason to call it Wisdom, as we often do. And after this manner, some one anciently mocked Diogenes, who in the depth of Winter, and stark naked, went hugging an Image of Snow for a Trial of his Patience: this other meeting him in this Equipage, Art thou now very cold? said he, 
Diogenes' patient of Cold.  not at all replied Diogenes. Why then, said the other, What great and exemplary thing canst thou think thou dost in embracing that Snow? A man, to take a true measure of Constancy, must necessarily know what suffering is; but Souls that are to meet with adverse Events, and the Injuries of Fortune in their depth and sharpness, that are to weigh and taste them according to their natural weight and sharpness, let such show their skill in avoiding the Causes, and diverting the Blow. What did King Cotys do? 
A rich Vessel purposely broken by King Cotys, and why.  He paid liberally for the rich and beautiful Vessel that had been presented him, but being it was exceeding brittle, he immediately broke it betimes, to prevent so easy a matter of displeasure against his Servants. In like manner, I have willingly avoided all confusion in my Affairs, and never coveted to have my estate contiguous to those of my Relation, and such with whom I coveted a strict Friendship; whence Matters of Unkindness and falling out do oft proceed. I have formerly loved Cards and Dice, but have long since left them off, only for this Reason, that though I carried my losses as handsomely as another, I was not well satisfied and quiet within. Let a man of Honour, who ought to be sensible of the Lie, and who is not to take a scurvy excuse for Satisfaction, avoid Occasions of dispute. I eat melancholic and sour natured men, as I would do the Plague. And in Matters I cannot talk of without Emotion and Concern, I never meddle, if not compelled by my Duty. 
Seneca. Epist. 92.  Melius non incipient, quam desinent. A man had better never to have begun, than to desist. The surest way therefore is, to prepare a man's self before hand for Occasions. I know very well, that some wise men have taken another way, and have not feared to grapple and engage to the utmost upon several Subjects. Such are confident of their own Strength, under which they protect themselves in all ill Successes, making their Patience wrestle and contend with disaster: 

velut rupes vastum quae prodit in aequor, 
Virgil. Aeneid. 10.   
Obvia ventorum furiis, expostaque ponto,  
Vim cunctam atque minas perfert coelique marisque  
Ipsa immota manens.   

He as a Rock amongst vast Billows stood, 
Mr. Ogilby.   
Scorning loud Winds, and raging of the Flood,  
And fixed remaining all the force defies  
Mustered from threatening Seas, and thundering Skies.   Let us never attempt these Examples, we shall never come up to them. They set themselves resolutely, and without trouble, to behold the ruin of their Country, to which all the good they can contrive or perform is due. This is too much, and too rude for our common Souls to undergo. Cato indeed gave up the noblest Life that ever was upon this account; but it is for us meaner spirited men, to fly from the storm as far as we can; we ought to make provision of Resentment, not of Patience, and evade the Blows we cannot put by. Zeno, seeing Chremonidez, a young man whom he loved, draw near to sit down by him, suddenly start up; and Cleanthes demanding of him the Reason why he did so, I hear, said he, that Physicians, especially ordered Repose, and forbid Emotion in all Tumours. Socrates does not say, do not surrender to the Charms of Beauty, stand your ground, and do your utmost to oppose it. Fly it, says he, eat the sight and encounter of it, as of a powerful Poison that darts and wounds at distance. And his good Disciple, either feigning or reciting, but in my Opinion, rather reciting than feigning, the rare Perfections of that great Cyrus, makes him distrustful of his own Strength, to resist the Charms of the Divine Beauty of that illustrious Panthea, his Captive, in committing the visiting and keeping of her to another, who could not have so much Liberty as himself. And the Holy Ghost in like manner, Ne nos inducas in tentationem. We do not pray that our Reason may not be combated and overcome by Concupiscence, but that it should not be so much as tried; that we should not be brought into a state wherein we were so much as to suffer the approaches, solicitations, and temptations of Sin: and we beg of Almighty-God to keep our Consciences quiet, fully, and perfectly delivered from all commerce of Evil. Such as say that they have reason for their revenging Passion, or any other sort of troublesome Agitation of Mind, do oft say true, as things now are, but not as they were. They speak to us when the Causes of their Error are by themselves nourished and advanced. But look backward, recall these Causes to their Beginning, and there you will put them to a nonplus; will they have their Fault less for being of longer continuance, and that of an unjust beginning, the sequel can be just? Whoever shall desire the good of his Country, as I do, without fretting or pining himself, will be troubled, but will not swoon to see it threatening either its own ruin, or a no less ruinous continuance. Poor Vessel, that the Waves, the Winds, and the Pilot, toss and steer to so contrary Designs! 
in tam diversa, magister, 
Buchanan.   
Ventus, & unda trahunt.  He, who does not gape after the Favour of Princes, as after a thing he cannot live without, does not much concern himself at the coldness of their Reception and Countenance, nor at the inconstancy of their Wills. He who does not brood over his Children or his Honours with a slavish propension, ceases not to live commodiously enough after their loss. Who does good principally for his own satisfaction, will not be much troubled to see men judge of his actions contrary to his merit. A quarter of an ounce of Patience will provide sufficiently against such inconveniences. I find ●ase in this Receipt, redeeming myself in the beginning as good cheap as I can; and find, that by that means I have escaped much trouble and many difficulties. With very little ado I stop the first sally of my Emotions, and leave the subject that begins to be troublesome before it transports me. He who stops not the start, will never be able to stop the career▪ Who cannot keep them out, will never get them out when they are once got in; and who cannot crush them at the beginning, will never do it after, nor ever keep himself from falling, if he cannot recover himself when he first begins to totter. 
Cicero Thus. l. 4.  Etenim ipsa se impellunt, ubi semel à ratione discessum est: ipsáque sibi imbecillitas indulget, in altumque provehitur imprudent: nec reperit locum consistendi. For they throw themselves headlong, when once they lose their Reasons; and Frailty does so far indulge itself, that it is unawares carried out into the deep, and can find no Port wherein to come to an Anchor. I am betimes sensible of the little breezes that begin to sing and whistle in the shrowds; the forerunners of the storm. 


Aeneid. lib. 10. — ceu flamina prima  
Cum deprensa fremunt Sylvis, & caeca volutant  
Murmura, venturos nautis prodentia ventos.   


Mr. Ogilby.  as when Winds rise,  
And stop by Woods, a sudden Murmur send,  
Which doth a storm to Mariners portend.   How oft have I done myself a manifest Injustice, to avoid the hazard of having yet a worse done me by the Judges, after an Age of Vexations, dirty and vile Practices, more Enemies to my Nature than Fire or the Wrack? Convenit à litibus quantum licet, & nescio an paulo plus etiam quam licet abhorrentem esse. Est enim non modo liberale, 
Cicero de Offi. lib. 2.  paululum nonnumquam de suo jure decedere, sed interdum etiam fructuosum. A man should be an enemy to all Contention as much as he lawfully may, and I know not, whether not something more: For 'tis not only liberal, but sometimes also advantageous too, a little to recede from ones right. Were we wise, we ought to rejoice and boast, as I one day heard a young Gentleman of a good Family very innocently do, that his Mother had lost her Trial, as if it had been a Cough, a Fever, or something very troublesome to keep: Even the Favours that Fortune might have given me through Relation or Acquaintance with those who have Sovereign Authority in those Affairs, I have very conscientiously waved; and very carefully avoided employing them to the prejudice of others, and of advancing my pretensions above their true Right. In fine, I have so much prevailed by my Endeavours, in a happy hour I may speak it, that I am to this day a Virgin from all Suits in Law; though I have had very fair offers made me, and with very just Title, would I have harkened to them: and a Virgin from Quarrels too. I have almost past over a long Life without any offence of moment, either active or passive, or without ever hearing a worse word than my own Name: a rare Favour of Heaven. Our greatest Agitations have ridiculous Motives and Causes. What ruin did our last Duk● of Burgundy run into about a Cart load of Sheep's Pel●s! And was not the graving of ● Seal the first and principal cause of the greatest Commotion that this Machine of the World di● ever undergo? For Pompey and Caesar are but the off-sets and continuation of two others▪ And I have in my time seen the wisest Head● in this Kingdom assembled with great Ceremony, and at the public expense, about Treaties and Agreements, of which the true decision did in the mean time absolutely depend upon the Lady's Cabinet-Counsel, and the inclination of some foolish Women. 
The Apple of Discord.  The Poets very well understood this, when they put all Gre●● and Asia to Fire and Sword for an Apple. Inquire why that man hazards his Life and Honour upon the Fortune of his Rapier and Dagger; let him acquaint you with the occasion of the Quarrel, he cannot do it without blushing, 'tis so idle and frivolous: A little thing will engage you in't, but being once embarked, all cords, draw; greater provisions are then required, more hard, and more important. How much easier is it not to enter in, than it is to get out? Now we should proceed contrary to the Reed, which at its first springing, produces a long and straight shoot, but afterwards, as if tired and out of Breath, it runs into thick and frequent joints and knots, as so many pauses; which demonstrates, that it has no more its first Vigour and Constancy. 'Twere better to begin fair and coldly, and to keep a man's Breath, and vigorous attaques for the height and stress of the Business. We guide and govern Affairs in their Beginnings, and have them then in our own power; but afterwards, when they are once at work, 'tis they that guide and govern us, and we are to follow them. Yet do I not pretend by this to say, that this Council has discharged me of all difficulty, and that I have not often had enough to do to curb and restrain my Passions. They are not always to be governed according to the measure of Occasions, and often have their Entries very sharp and violent. So it is, that thence good fruit and profit may be reaped; except for those, who in well doing are not satisfied with any benefit, if Reputation be wanting: For in truth, such an effect is not valued but by every one to himself. You are better contented, but not more esteemed; seeing you reformed yourself before you came into play, and that any Vice was discovered in you: yet not in this only, but in all other Duties of Life, also the way of those who aim at Honour, is very different from that they proceed by; who propose to themselves Order and Reason. I find some, who rashly and furiously rush into the Lists, and cool in the Course. As Plutarch says, that as those who through Bashfulness, being soft and facile to grant whatever is desired of them, are afterwards as frail to break their word, and to recant; so likewise he who enters lightly into a Quarrel, is subject to go as lightly out. The same difficulty that keeps me from entering into it, would, when once hot and engaged in Quarrel, incite me to maintain it with great Obstinacy and Resolution. 'Tis the Tyranny of Custom, when a man is once engaged, he must go through with it, or die. Undertake coldly, said Bias, but pursue with Ardour. For want of Prudence, men fall into want of Courage, which is more intolerable. Most Accommodations of the Quarrels of these days of ours, are shameful and false, we only seek to save Apparences, and in the mean time betray and disavow our true Intentions. We salve the fact. We know very well how we said the thing, and in what sense we spoke it, and both all the Company, and of them our Friends with whom we would appear to have the Advantage, understand it well enough too. 'Tis at the expense of our Liberty, and the Honour of our Courage, that we disown our Thoughts, and seek refuge in Falsities, to be Friends. We give ourselves the Lie, to excuse the Lie we have given to another. You are to consider if your Word or Action may admit of another Interpretation; 'tis your own true and sincere Interpretation of, and your real meaning in what you said or did, that you are thenceforward to maintain, whatever it cost you. Men speak to your Virtue, Honour, and Conscience, which are none of them to be disguised. Let us leave these pitiful Ways and Expedients to the Jugglers of the Law. The Excuses and Satisfactions that I see every day made, and given to repair Indiscretion, seem to me more scandalous than Indiscretion itself. It were better to affront your Adversary a second time, than to offend yourself by giving him so unmanly a Satisfaction. You have braved him in your heat and anger, and you go to flatter and appease him in your cooler and better sense; and by that means lay yourself lower, and at his feet, whom before you pretended to over-top. I do not find any thing a Gentleman can say so rude and vicious in him, as unsaying what he has said is infamous; when to unsay it is authoritatively extracted from him, for as much as Obstinacy is more excusable in a man of Honour than Pusillanimity can possibly be. Passions are as easy for me to evade, as they are hard for me to moderate. Exscinduntur facilius animo, 
Juvenal.  quam temperantur. Who cannot attain unto that noble Stoical impassibility, let him secure himself in the bosom of this popular Stupidity of mine. What those great Souls performed by their Virtue, I inure myself to do by Complexion. The middle region harbours Storms and Tempests, the two extremes of Philosophers and ignorant men concur in Tranquillity and Happiness. 

Foelix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, 
Virg. Georg. lib. 2.   
Atque metus omne, & inexorabile fatum  
Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari,  
Fortunatus, & ille, Deos qui novit agrestes,  
Panaque, Sylvanumque senem, Nymphasque sorores.   


Mr. Ogilby.  Happy is he that hidden causes knows,  
And bold, all shapes of danger dare oppose,  
Trampling beneath his foots the cruel fates,  
Whom Death, nor swallowing Acheron amates;  
And he is blest who knows our Country Gods,  
Pan, old Sylvanus, and the Nymphs abodes.   The births of all things are weak and tender, and therefore are we to have an eye to their Beginnings; for as then in their Infancy the Danger is not perceived; so when it is grown up, the Remedy is no more to be found. I had every day encountered a million of Crosses, harder to digest in the progress of my Ambition, than it has been hard for me to curb the natural propension that inclined me to it. 


Hor. lib. 3. Ode. 17.  jure perhorrui,  
Latè conspicuum tollere verticem.   


Sir. Rich. Fanshaw.  I did well  
To shrink my Head into my Shell.   All public Actions are subject to various and incertain Interpretations, for too many heads judge of them. Some say of this City Employment of mine (and I am willing to say a word or two of it, not that it is worth so much, but to give an account of my manners in such things) that I have behaved myself in it like a man not easy to be moved, and with a languishing Affection; and they have some colour for what they say. I endeavour to keep my Mind and my Thoughts in repose. 
Quvito Cicero.  Cum semper natura, tum etiam aetate jam quietus. As being always quiet by Nature, so also now by Age. And if they sometimes lash out upon some rude and sensible impression, 'tis in truth without my advice. Yet from this natural heaviness of mine, men ought not to conclude a total inability in me; for want of Care, and want of Sense are two very different things, and much less any unkindness, or Ingratitude, towards that Corporation, who employed the utmost means they had in their power to oblige me, both before they knew me and after. And they did much more for me in choosing me anew, than in conferring that Honour upon me at first; I love them entirely, and wish them all the good that can befall so worthy a Society. And doubtless, had occasion been, there is nothing I would have spared for their Service; I did for them as I would have done for myself. 'Tis a good Warlike and generous People, but capable of Obedience and Discipline, and of whom the best use may be made, if well guided. They say also, that my Administration was passed over without any great Remark, or any Record of moment. 'Tis true. They moreover accuse my Cessation in a time when every body almost was convinced of doing too much. I am impatient to be doing where my Will spurs me on; but this point is an enemy to Perseverance. Let whoever will make use of me, according to my own way, employ me in affairs where rigour and liberty are required; where a direct, short, and moreover, a hazardous Conduct are necessary, I peradventure may do something; but if it must be long, subtle, laborious, artificial and intricate, they were better call in some body else. All important Offices are not hard: I came prepared to carry myself a little more roughly, had there been great occasion; for it is in my power to do something more than I do, or than I love to do; I did not to my knowledge omit any thing that my Duty really required; 'tis true, that I easily forget those Offices that Ambition mixes with Duty, and palliates with Title. Those are they, that for the most part, fill the Eyes and Ears, and give men the most satisfaction. Not the thing, but the appearance contents them. They think men sleep if they hear no noise. My Humour is no friend to tumult. I could appease a Riot without emotion, and chastise a Disorder without alteration. If I stand in need of Anger and Inflammation, I borrow it, and put it on; my Manners are heavy, rather faint than sharp. I do not condemn a Magistrate that sleeps, provided the People under his charge sleep as well as he: the Laws in that case sleep too. For my part, I commend a gliding, solitary, and silent Life. 
Cicero de Off. lib. 1.  Neque submissam, & abjectam, neque se efferentem. My Fortune will have it so. I am descended from a Family that has lived without Lustre or Tumult, and time out of mind particularly ambitious of Valour and Loyalty. Our People now adays are so bred up to bustle and Ostentation, that good Nature, Moderation, Equity, Constancy, and such quiet and obscure Qualities, are no more thought on or regarded. Rough bodies make themselves felt, the smooth are imperceptly handled. Sickness is felt, Health little, or not at all, no more than the Oils that foment us, in comparison of the Pains for which we are fomented. 'Tis acting for a man's Reputation and particular profit, not for the Public good, to refer that to be done in the public place, which a man may as well do in the Council-Chamber, and to noonday, what might have been done the night before; and to be jealous to do that himself which his Colleague can do as well as he. So were some Surgeons of Greece wont to make their Operations upon Scaffolds in the sight of the People, to draw more practice and profit. They think that good Orders cannot be understood but by the sound of Trumpet. Ambition is not a Vice of little People, and of so mean Abilities as ours. One said to Alexander, your Father will leave you a great Dominion, easy and pacific; this Youth was emulous of his Father's Victories, and the Justice of his Government; and would not have enjoyed the Empire of the World in ease and peace. Alcibiades, in Plato, had rather die Young, Beautiful, Rich, Noble, and Learned, and all this with Excellence, than to continue in the state of such a Condition. This disease is peradventure excusable in so strong and so full a Soul. When these wretched and dwarfish Souls gull and deceive themselves, and think to spread their Fame, for having given right judgement in an Affair, or continued the discipline of keeping the Guard of a Gate of their City, the more they think to exalt their heads, the more they show their tails. This little well doing has neither body nor life; it vanishes in the first mouth, and goes no farther than from one Street to another. Talk of it in God's-name to your Son, or your Servant; like that old Fellow, who having no other Auditor of his Prayers, nor approver of his Valour, boasted to his Chambermaid, crying out, O Perret, what a brave man hast thou to thy Master! At the worst hand, talk of it to yourself; like a Counsellor of my Acquaintance, who having disgorged a whole Cartfull of Paragraphs, with great heat, and as great folly, coming out of the Councel-Chamber to piss, was heard very conscientiously to mutter betwixt his teeth. 
Psal. 113.  Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nominè tuo da gloriam. Who can get it of no body else, let him pay himself out of his own purse. Fame is not prostituted at so cheap a rate. Rare and exemplary Actions, to which it is due, would not endure the company of this prodigious crowd of little performances. Marble may exalt your Titles as much as you please, for having repaired a Rod of a ruinous Wall, or cleansed a public Aquaduct; but not men of Sense. Renown does not follow all good Deeds, if Novelty and Difficulty be not conjoined. Nay, so much as mere estimation, according to the Stoics, is not due to every Action that proceeds from Virtue; neither will they allow him bare thanks, who out of Temperance forbears to meddle with an old blear-eyed Hagg. Such as have known the admirable Qualities of Scipio Affricanus, deny him the glory that Penetius attributes to him, of being abstinent from Gifts, as a glory not so much his, as that of the Age he lived in. We have Pleasures suitable to our Fortunes, let us not usurp those of Grandeur. Our own are more natural, and by so much more solid and sure, as they are more low. If not for that of Conscience, yet at least for Ambition's sake, let us reject Ambition, let us disdain that thirst of Honour and Renown, so low and mendicant, that it makes us beg it of all sorts of People: Quae est ista laus quae possit è macello peti? What praise is that which is to be got in the Market? by abject means, and at what cheap rate soever. 'Tis dishonour to be so honoured. Let us learn to be no more greedy, than we are capable of Honour. To be puffed up with every Action that is innocent, or of use, is only for such with whom such things are extraordinary and rare: They will value it as it costs them. How much more a good effect makes a noise, so much I abate of the goodness of it; and enter into suspicion that it was more performed for noise, than upon the account of goodness. Being exposed upon the stall, 'tis half sold. Those Actions have much more grace and lustre, that slip from the hand of him that does them negligently, and without noise: and that some honest man after chooses out, and raises from the shade to produce it to the light upon its own account. 
Cicero Thus. l. 2.  Mihi quidem laudaliora videntur omnia, quae sine venditatione, & sine populo teste fiunt. All things truly seem more laudable to me, that are performed without ostentation, and without the testimony of the People. Says the proudest man of the World, I had no care but to conserve, and to continue, which are silent and insensible effects. Innovation is of great lustre, but 'tis interdicted in this time, when we are pressed upon, and have nothing to defend ourselves from but Novelties. To forbear doing, is oft as generous as to do, but 'tis less in the light; and the little of good that I have in me is of this kind. In fine, occasions in this Employment of mine have been confederate with my Humour, and I thank them for it. Is there any one who desires to be sick that he might see his Physician's Practice? And would not that Physician deserve to be whipped, who should wish the Plague amongst us, that he might put his Art in practice? I have never been of that wicked Humour, and common enough, to desire that the troubles and disorders of this City should elevate and honour my Government; I have ever willingly contributed all I could to their tranquillity and ease. He who will not thank me for the order, sweet and silent calm that has accompanied my Administration, cannot however deprive me of the share that belongs to me by the title of my good Fortune. And I am of such a Composition, that I would as willingly be happy as wise; and had rather owe my successes purely to the favour of Almighty God, than to any industry or operation of my own. I had sufficiently published to the World my unfitness for such public Offices; but I have something in me yet worse than incapacity; which is, that I am not much displeased at it, and that I do not much go about to cure it, considering the course of Life that I have proposed to myself. Neither have I satisfied myself in this Employment, but I have very near arrived at what I expected from my own performance, and have yet much surpassed what I promised them with whom I had to do: For I am apt to promise something less than what I am able to do, and than what I hope to make good. I assure myself that I have left no impressions of Offence or Hatred behind me, and to leave a regret or desire of me amongst them. I at least know very well that I did never much affect it.  

— méne huic confidere monstro, 
Virgil. Aeneid. lib. 5.   
Méne salis placidi vultum, fluctusque quietos Ignorare?   

Wouldst thou I should a quiet Sea believe, 
Mr. Ogilby.   
To this inconstant monster credit give?    

CHAP. XI. Of Cripples.  

The year cut ten days shorter.  'TIs now two or three years ago that they made the year ten days shorter in France. How many changes may we expect should follow this reformation! This was properly removing Heaven and Earth at once; and yet nothing for all that stirs from its place: my neighbours still find their seasons of sowing and reaping, the opportunities of doing their business, with the hurtful and propitious days, just at the same time, where they had time out of mind assigned them. There was no more error perceived in our old usance, than there is amendment found in this new alteration. So great an incertainty there is throughout; so gross, obscure, and dull is our understanding. 'Tis said, that this regulation might have been carried on with less inconvenience, by substracting. according to the example of Augustus, the Bissextile, which is in some sort a day of trouble, till we had exactly satisfied that debt; which is not performed neither by this correction, and we yet remain some days in arrear: And yet by the same means such order might be taken for the future, ordering, that after the revolution of such a year, or such a number of years, the supernumerary day might be always thrown out, so that we could not henceforward err above four and twenty hours in our computation. We have no other account of time but years; the World has for many Ages made use of that only, and yet it is a measure that to this day we are not agreed upon; such a one, that we still doubt what form other Nations have variously given to it, and what was the true use of it. What does this saying of some mean, that the Heavens in growing old bow themselves down nearer towards us, and put us into an uncertainty even of hours and days? And that which Plutarch says of the Months, that Astrology had not in his time determined of the motion of the Moon? So what a fine condition are we in to keep Records of things past. I was just now ruminating, as I often do upon this, what a free and roving thing humane judgement is. I ordinarily see, that men, in things proposed to them, more willingly study to find out the Reason than to find out the Truth: they slip over presuppositions, but are curious in examination of consequences. They leave the things and fly to the causes. Pleasant praters! The knowledge of Causes does only concern him who has the conduct of things, not us, who are only to undergo them, and who perfectly have full and accomplished use of them according to our need, without penetrating into the Original and Essence. Neither is Wine more pleasant to him that knows its first faculties. On the contrary, both the Body and the Soul alter and interrupt the right they have of the use of the World, and of themselves, by mixing with it the Opinion of Learning. Effects concern us, but the means not at all. To determine, and to distribute appertain to superiority and command, as it does to subjection to accept it. Let me reprehend our Custom. They commonly begin thus: How is such a thing done? Whereas they should say, Is such a thing done? Our prattle is able to create a hundred other Worlds, and to find out the beginnings and contexture; it needs neither Matter nor Foundation. Let it but run on, it builds as well in the Air, as on the Earth; and with Inanity as well as Matter. 
Persius. Sat. 5.  dare pondus idonea fumo I find that almost throughout we should say, there is no such thing; and should myself oft make use of this answer, but I dare not: for they cry that it is a defect produced from ignorance and weakness of Understanding. And I am forced for the most part to juggle for Company, and prate of frivolous and idle Subjects, that I believe ne'er a word of. Besides that, in truth, 'tis a little rude and quarrelling, flatly to deny a Proposition; and few People but will affirm, especially in things hard to be believed, that they have seen them, or at least will name such Witnesses whose Authority will stop our Mouths from Contradictions. By this means we know the Foundations and Means of things that never were; and the World scuffles about a thousand Questions, of which both the pro and the con are false. 
Cicero. Acad. lib. 4.  Ita finitima sunt falsa veris, ut praecipitem locum non debeat se sapiens committere. False things are so like the true, that a wise man should not trust himself upon the precipice. Truth and Lies are fa●'d alike, their port, taste, and proceedings are the same, and we look upon them with the same Eye. I find that we are not only remiss in defending ourselves from deceit, but we seek and offer ourselves to be gulled; we love to entangle ourselves in Vanity, as a thing conformable to our Being. I have seen the birth of many Miracles of my time, which although they were abortive, yet have we not failed to foresee what they would have come to, had they lived their full Age. 'Tis but finding the end of the Clue, and a man may wind off as much as he will; and there is a greater distance betwixt nothing, and the least thing in the World, than there is betwixt that and the greatest. Now the first that are imbued with this beginning of Novelty, when they set out their History, find, by oppositions they met with, where the difficulty of persuasion lies, and so caulk that place with some false piece. Besides that, In●ita hominibus libidine alendi de industria rumores, Men having a natural desire to nourish Reports, we naturally make a conscience of restoring what has been lent us, without some usury and access of our substance. Particular Error, first makes the public Error, and afterwards, in turn, the public Error makes the particular one; so all this vast Fabric goes forming and confounding itself from hand to hand, so that the remotest Testimony is better instructed than those that are nearest; and the last informed better persuaded than the first: 'Tis a natural progress. For whoever believes any thing, thinks it a work of Charity to persuade another into the same opinion▪ Which the better to do, he will make no difficulty of adding as much of his own Invention, as he conceives necessary to encounter the resistance or want of Conception he meets with in others. I myself, who make a great conscience of lying, and am not very solicitous of giving credit and authority to what I say, do yet find, that in the Arguments I have in hand, being heated with the opposition of another, or by the proper heat of my own narration, I swell and puff up my subject by Voice, Motion, Vigour, and force of Words; and moreover, by Extension and Amplification, not without some prejudice to the naked truth: but I do it conditionally withal, that to the first who brings me to myself, and who asks me the plain and naked truth, I presently surrender my Passion, and deliver it to him without Exaggeration, without Emphasis, or any Farthing of my own. A quick and earnest way of Speaking, as mine is, is apt to run into Hyperbole. There is nothing to which me● commonly are more inclined than to give way to their own Opinions. Where the ordinary means fail us, we add Command, Force, and Fire, and Sword. 'Tis ill luck to be at that pass, that the best touch of Truth, must be the multitude of Believers in a crowd, where the number of fools so much exceeds the wise. 
Cicero de divi. l. 2. Item Aug. de Civit. Dei, lib. 6. cap. 10.  Quasi vero quidquam sit tam valde, quam nil sapere vulgar. Sanitatis patrocinium est, insanientium turba. As if any thing were so common as Ignorance. The multitude of Fools is a protection to the Wise. 'Tis hard to resolve a man's Judgement against the common Opinions. The first persuasion taken from the very Subject itself possesses the simple, and from that, it diffuses itself to the wise, under the authority of the number and antiquity of the Witnesses. For my part, what I should not believe from one, I should not believe from a hundred and one; and do not judge Opinions by the years. 'Tis not long since, one of our Princes, in whom the Gout had spoiled an excellent Nature, and sprightly Disposition, suffered himself to be so far persuaded with the report was made of the wonderful Operations of a certain Priest, 
A Priest that cured all sorts of Diseases by words and gestures.  that by words and gestures cured all sorts of Diseases, as to go a long Journey to seek him out; and by the force of his Apprehension for some time, so persuaded, and laid his Legs asleep, as to obtain that service from them they had a long time forgot. Had Fortune heaped five or six such like Accidents, it had been enough to have brought this Miracle into Nature. There was after discovered so much Simplicity, and so little Art in the Architecture of such Operations, that they were thought too contemptible to be punished, as would be thought of most such things, were they well examined. Miramur ex intervallo fallentia. 
Seneca. Epist. 118.  We admire at distance things that deceive. So does our sight oft represent to us strange Images at distance, that vanish in approaching near. 
Cret. lib. 9  Nunquam ad liquidum fama perducitur. Fame is never brought to be clear. 'Tis to be wondered at, from how many idle beginnings, and frivolous causes, such famous impressions commonly proceed. This it is that obstructs the information; for whilst we seek out the Causes, and the great and weighty ends, worthy of so great a Name, we lose the true ones. They escape our sight by their littleness: And in truth, a prudent, diligent, and subtle Inquisition is required in such searches; indifferent, and not prepossessed. To this very hour all these Miracles and strange Events have concealed themselves from me, I have never seen greater Monster or Miracle in the World than myself: a man grows familiar with all strange things by time and custom; but the more I frequent, and the better I know myself, the more does my own deformity astonish me, and the less I understand myself. The principal right of advancing and producing such Accidents is reserved to Fortune. Riding the other day through a Village, about two leagues from my House, I found the Place yet hot with the rumour of a Miracle lately happened there, wherewith the Neighbourhood had been several Months amused, and so, that neighbouring Provinces began to take the Alarm, and to run thither in great Companies of all sorts of People. A young fellow of the Town, had one night in sport counterfeited the Voice of a Spirit in his own House, without any other design at present, but only for sport; but this having succeeded with him a little better than he expected, to illustrate his Farce with more Actors, he took a stupid silly Country Girl into the Scene, and at last they were three of the same Age and Understanding, and from domestic Lectures, proceeded to public Preachings, hiding themselves under the Altar of the Church, never speaking but by Night, and forbidding any light to be brought, words which tended to the Conversion of the World, and Threats of the day of Judgement (for these are subjects under the Authority and Reverence of which imposture does most securely lurk and lie concealed) and thence proceeding to vicious and odd Gestures, so simple and ridiculous, that nothing could hardly be so gross and contemptible amongst little Children: Yet had Fortune never so little favoured the design, who knows to what height this juggling might have at last arrived? These poor Devils are at present in Prison, and are like shortly to pay for their Folly, and I know not whether some Judge may not also make them smart for his. We see clearly in this which is discovered, but in many things of the like nature, that exceed our knowledge, I am of Opinion, that we ought to suspend our Judgement, and to keep it in a Condition as fit to reject, as to receive them. Great abuse in the World is begot, or to speak more boldly, all the abuses of the World are begot by our being taught to be afraid of professing our ignorance, and that we are bound to accept all things we are not able to refute. We speak of all things by Precepts and Resolution. The Style of Rome was, that even that which a witness deposed for having seen it with his own eyes, and what a Judge determined with his most certain knowledge was couched in this form of speaking, it seems. They make me hate things that are likely, when they impose them upon me for infallible. I love these words which mollify and moderate the Temerity of our Propositions, peradventure, in some sort, some, 'tis said, I think, and the like: and had I been to train up Children, I had so put this way of answering into their Mouths, enquiring, and not resolutive, What does this mean? I understand it not, It may be, Is it true? That they should rather have retained the form of Pupils at threescore years old, than to go out Doctors as they do, at ten. Whoever will be cured of Ignorance must confess it. Iris is the Daughter of Thaumantis. Admiration is the Foundation of all Philosophy, Inquisition the progress, and Ignorance the end. I but there is a sort of Ignorance strong and generous, that yields nothing in Honour and Courage to Knowledge; an Ignorance, which to conceive, requires no less knowledge than Knowledge itself. I saw in my younger years, a Report of a process that C●rras a Counsellor of Thoulouse put out in print, of a strange accident of two men, who presented themselves the one for the other. I remember (and I hardly remember any thing else) that he seemed to have rendered the imposture of him whom he judged to be guilty, so wonderful, and so far exceeding both our Knowledge and his own, who was the Judge, that I thought it a very bold Sentence that condemned him to be hanged. Let us take up some form of Arrest, that says, The Court understands nothing of the matter; more freely and ingeniously than the Areopagites did, who finding themselves perplexed with a Cause they could not unravel, ordered the Parties to appear again after a hundred years. The Witches of my Neighbourhood run a hazard of their lives upon the intelligence of every new Author that will give real body to his Dreams. To accommodate the Examples that Holy Writ gives us of such things, most certain, and irrefragable Examples, and to tie them to our modern Events, being we neither see the Causes, nor the means, will require another sort of Wit than ours. It peradventure only appertains to that sole all polert Testimony, to tell us, This is, and that is, and not that other. God ought to be believed, and certainly with very good Reason; but not one amongst us for all that, who is astonished at his own Narration, (and he must of necessity be astonished, if he be not out of his Wits) whether he employ it about other men's affairs, or against himself. I am plain and rude, and stick to the main point, and that which is most likely, avoiding those ancient reproaches. 
Pliny.  Majorem fidem homines adhibent iis quae non intelligunt. Cupidine humani ingenii libentius obscura creduntur. Men are most apt to believe what they least understand: and through the lust of humane Wit, obscure things are more easily credited. I see very well that men are angry, and that I am forbidden to doubt upon pain of execrable Injuries. A new way of persuading Mercy for God's sake. I am not to be cuffed into belief. Let them be angry with those who accuse their Opinion of falsity, I only accuse it of difficulty and boldness; and condemn the opposite affirmation equally, if not so imperiously with them. Who will establish his Discourse by authority and huffing, discovers his Reason to be very weak. For a verbal and scholastic alteration, let them have as much appearance as their Contradictors. 
Sic. ●il. Sen.  Videantur sanè, non affirmentur modo. But in the real consequence they draw from it, these have much the advantage. To kill men, a clear and shining light is required; and our life is too real and essential to warrant these supernatural and fantastic Accidents. As to Drugs and Poisons, I throw them out of my count, as being the worst sorts of homicides: yet even in this, 'tis said, that men are not always to insist upon the proper confessions of these People: for they have sometimes been known to accuse themselves of the Murder of Persons who have afterwards been found living and well. In these other extravagant accusations, I should be apt to say, that it is sufficient a man, what recommendation soever he may have, be believed in humane things; but of what is beyond his Conception, and of supernatural effect, he ought then only to be believed, when authorised by a supernatural Approbation. The privilege it has pleased Almighty God to give to some of our Witnesses, ought not to be lightly communicated and made cheap. I have my Ears battered with a thousand such flim-flams as these. Three saw him such a day in the East, three the next day in the West; at such an hour, in such a place, and in such habit; in earnest, I should not believe myself. How much more natural and likely do I find it that two men should lie, than that one man in twelve hours' time should fly with the wind from East to West? How much more natural, that our Understanding should be carried from its place by the volubility of our disordered Minds, than this, that one of us should be carried by a strong Spirit upon a Broom-staff, Flesh and Bones as we are, up the shaft of a Chimney? Let not us seek illusions from without and unknown, who are perpetually agitated with illusions domestic and our own. Methinks a man is pardonable in disbelieving a Miracle, as much at least as he can divert and elude the verification by no wonderful ways. And I am of St. Augustine's Opinion; that 'tis better to lean towards doubt than assurance, in things hard to prove, and dangerous to believe. 'Tis now some years ago, that I travelled through the Territories of a Sovereign Prince, who in my favour, and to abate my incredulity, did me the honour to let me see in his own presence, and in a particular place, ten or twelve prisoners of this kind, and amongst others, an old Hag, a real Witch, in foulness and deformity, who long had been famous in that Profession. I saw both proofs and free confessions, and I know not what insensible mark upon the miserable Creature: 
Witchmarkes'.  I examined and talked with her and the rest as much and as long as I would, and made the best and soundest Observations I could, neither am I a man to suffer my Judgement to be captivated by prepossession; and in the end, should in Conscience sooner have prescribed them Hellebore than Hemlock. 
Livius.  Captisque res m●gis mentibus, quam consceleratis similis visa. The thing was rather to be attributed to madness than malice. Justice has correction proper for such Maladies. As to the Oppositions and Arguments that honest men have made me, both there and oft in other places; I have met with none that have convinced me, and that have not admitted a more likely solution than their conclusions. It is true indeed, that the Proof and Reasons that are founded upon Experience and matter of Fact, I do not go about to untie, neither have they any end; I often cut them, as Alexander did the Gordian knot. After all, 'tis setting a man's Conjectures at a very high price, upon them to cause a man to be roasted alive. We are told by several Examples, (and particularly Praestantius, of his Father) that being more profoundly asleep than men usually are, he fancied himself to be a Mare, and that he served the Soldiers for a Sumpter; and what he fancied himself to be, he really proved. If Sorcerers dream so materially; if dreams can sometimes so incorporate themselves with effects, I cannot believe that therefore our Wills should be accountable to Justice; which I say, as a man, who am neither Judge nor Privy-Counsellor; and that think myself by many degrees unworthy so to be, but a man of the common sort born, and vowed to the obedience of the public Reason, both in its words and acts. He that should record my idle talk to the prejudice of the most paltry Law, Opinion, or Custom of his Parish, would do himself a great deal of wrong, and me much more. For in what I say, I warrant no other certainty, but that 'tis what I had then in my Thought. Tumultuous and wavering Thought. All I say is by way of Discourse, and nothing by way of Advice. Nec me pudet, ut istos, fateri nescire, 
Cicero. Acad.  quod nesciam. Neither am I ashamed, as they are, to confess my ignorance of what I do not know. I should not speak so boldly, if it were my due to be believed. And so I told a great man, who complained of the tartness and contension of my Advices. Perceiving you to be ready, and prepared on one part, I propose to you the other, with all the diligence and care I can, to clear your Judgement, not to oblige it. God has your Hearts in his hands, and will furnish you with choice. I am not so presumptuous so much as to desire that my Opinions should so much as incline you to a thing of so great Importance. My Fortune has not trained them up to so potent and elevated Conclusions. Truly I have not only a great many Humours, but also a great many Opinions, that I would endeavour to make my Son dislike, if I had one. What? if the truest are not always the most commodious to man, being of too wild a Composition: Whether it be to the purpose, or not, 'tis no great matter. 'Tis a common Proverb in Italy, that he knows not Venus in her perfect sweetness, who has never lain with a lame Mistress. Fortune, or some particular Accident, has long ago put this Saying into the mouths of the People; and the same is said of men as well as of Women; for the Queen of Amazons answered the Scythian, who courted her to love, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Lame men perform best. 
Lame People best at the sport of Venus.  In this Feminine Republic, to evade the dominion of the Males, they lamed them in their infancy, both Arms, Legs, and other Members, that gave them advantage over them, and only made use of them in that wherein we in the other Parts of the World make use of them. I should have been apt to think, that the shuffling pace of the lame Mistress added some new Pleasure to the work, and some extraordinary titillation to those who were at the sport; but that I have lately learned, that ancient Philosophy has itself determined it, which says, that the Legs and Thighs of lame Women, not receiving, by the reason of their imperfection, their due aliment, it falls out, that the genital Parts above, are fuller and better supplied, and much more vigorous. Or else, that this defect hindering the Exercise, they who are engaged in it, less disperse th●ir forces, and come more entire to the sports of Venus. Which also is the Reason why the Greeks decried the Women-weavers, 
Woman-weavers more lustful than other Women.  as being more hot than other Women, by reason of their sedentary Trade; which they do without any great motion or exercise of the body. What is it we may not reason of at this rate? I might also say of these, that this jogging their Breeches, whilst so sitting at work, rouzes and provokes their desire, as the swinging and jolting of Coaches does that of our Ladies. Do not these Examples serve to make good what I said at first, that our Reasons often anticipate the Effect, and have so infinite an extent of Jurisdiction, that they judge and exercise themselves, even in Inanity, and where there is no Being? Besides the flexibility of our invention to forge Reasons of all sorts of Dreams, our Imagination is equally facile to receive impressions of falsity, by very frivolous Apparences. For, by the sole authority of the ancient and common Use of this Proverb, I have formerly made myself believe, that I have had more Pleasure in a Woman by reason she was not straight, and accordingly reckoned that deformity amongst her Graces. Torquato Tasso, in his comparison he makes betwixt France and Italy, 
The French gentlemen's Legs smaller than others and why.  says, he has observed, that our Legs are generally smaller than those of the Italian Gentlemen; and attributes the cause of it to our being continually on Horseback. Which is the very same from which Suetonius draws a quite contrary Conclusion; for he says on the contrary, that Germanicus had made his Legs bigger by the continuation of the same Exercise. Nothing is so supple and wand'ring as our Understanding. 'Tis like the shoe of Theramenez, 
Theramenez shoe.  fit for all feet. 'Tis double and various, and the matters are double and divers too. Give me a Drachm of Silver, said a Cynic Philosopher to Antigonus; that is not a Present befitting a King, replied he; give me then a Talon, said the other; that is not a Present befitting a Cynic. 


Virg. Georg. l. 1.  Seu plures calor ille vias, & caeca relaxat  
Spiramenta novas veniat qua succus in herbas:  
Seu durat magis, & venas astringit hiantes,  
Ne tenues pluviae rapidive potentia solis  
Acrior, aut Boreae penetrabile frigus adurat.   


Mr. Ogilby.  Whether from this new force and nourishment  
The Earth receives, or else all venom spent  
By fire, and froth superfluous moisture sweat,  
Or many dark hid breathe laxed by heat,  
By which fresh sap the springing Corn sustains,  
Or more condensed it binds the gaping Veins,  
Lest soaking showers, or Sol's more potent Beam,  
Or Boreas piercing cold should wither them.   Ogni medaglia ha il suo reverso. Every Medal has its reserve. This is the reason why Clitomucus said of old, that Carneades had outdone the Labours of Hercules, in having fixed the consent of men, that is to say, their Opinion, and the Liberty of judging. This so strong fancy of Carneades, sprung in my Opinion anciently from the impudence of those who made Profession of Knowledge, and their immeasurable self-conceit. Aesop was set to sale with two other Slaves, the buyer asked the first what he could do; who, to enhance his own value, promised Mountains and Miracles, saying, he could do this, and that, and I know not what; the second as much of himself, and more: when it came to Esop's turn, and that he was also asked what he could do, nothing, said he, for these two have taken up all before me, they can do every thing. So has it happened in the School of Philosophy: The pride of those who attributed the Capacity of all things to humane Wit, created in others, out of spite and Emulation, this Opinion, that it is capable of nothing. The one maintain the same extreme in Ignorance that the others do in Knowledge. To make it undeniably manifest that man is immoderate throughout, can give no other positive sentence but that of Necessity, and the want of Ability to proceed further.   

CHAP. XII. Of Physiognomy.  
ALmost all the Opinions we have are derived from Authority, and taken upon trust; and 'tis not amiss. We could not choose worse than by ourselves in so weak an Age. This Image of Socrates his Discourses, which his Friends have transmitted to us, we approve upon no other account, but merely the reverence to public Approbation. 'Tis not according to our own knowledge, they are not after our way. If any thing of this kind should spring up new, few men would value them. We discern not the graces otherwise than by certain features, touched up, and illustrated by Art. Such as glide on in their own Purity and Simplicity, easily escape so gross a sight as ours; they have a delicate and concealed Beauty, such as required a clear and purified sight to discover so secret a light. Is not Simplicity, as we accept it, Cousin-german to Folly, and a Quality of reproach? Socrates makes his Soul move a natural and common motion. A country Peasant said this, a Woman said that, he has never any thing in his Mouth, but Carters, Joiners, Cobblers, and Masons. These are inductions and similitudes drawn from the most common and known Actions of men, every one understands them. We should never have entertained the Nobility and Splendour of his admirable Conceptions under so vile a form; we, I say, who think all things low and flat, that are not elevated by Learning, and who discern no riches but in pomp and show. This World of ours is only formed for Ostentation. Men are only puffd up with Wind, and are bandied too and fro like Tennis-Balls. This man proposes to himself no vain and idle Fancies, his design was to furnish us with Precepts and things that more really and fitly serve to the use of Life: 

servare modum, finemque tenere, 
Lucan. l. 2.   
Naturamque sequi   

To keep a mean, his end still to observe,  
And from the Laws of Nature ne'er to swerve.   He was also always one and the same, and raised himself not by starts, but by complexion, to the highest pitch of vigour; or to say better, he exalted nothing, but rather brought down, and reduced all asperities and difficulties to their original and natural Condition, and subjected their power: for in Cato 'tis most manifest, that there is a proceeding extended far beyond the common ways of ordinary men. In the brave exploits of his Life, and in his Death, we find him always mounted upon his managed Horses. Whereas this man always creeps upon the ground, and with a slow and ordinary pace, treats of the most useful Discourses, and bears himself through both at his Death, and the nicest traverses that would present themselves in the course of humane Life. It has fallen out well, that the man most worthy to be known, and to be presented to the World for Example, should be he of whom we have the most certain knowledge; he has been pried into by the most clearsighted men that ever were. The Testimonies we have of him are admirable both in Fidelity and Knowledge. 'Tis a great thing that he was able so to order the pure Imaginations of a Child, that without altering, or wresting them, he has thereby produced the most beautiful effects of a humane Soul. He presents it not either elevated or rich, he only represents it sound, but certainly with a brisk and sprightly Health. By these common and natural Springs, by these vulgar and ordinary Fancies, without being moved, or making any bustle in the Business▪ he set up, not only the most regular, but the most high and vigorous Beliefs, Actions, and Manners that ever were. 'Tis he who brought again from Heaven, where she lost her time, humane Wisdom, to restore her to man, wherein her most just and greatest business lies. See him plead before his Judges, do but observe by what reasons he rouzes his Courage to the hazards of War; with what Arguments he fortifies his Patience against Calumny, Tyranny, Death, and the perverseness of his Wife: you will find nothing in all this borrowed from Arts and Sciences. The simplest may there discover their own means and power; 'tis not possible more to retire, or to creep more low. He has done humane Nature a great kindness in showing it how much it can do of itself. We are all of us richer than we think we are; but we are taught to borrow and to beg, and brought up more to make use of what is another's than our own. Man can in nothing fix and conform himself to his mere Necessity. Of Pleasure, Wealth, and Power, he grasps at more than he can hold; his greediness is incapable of moderation. And I find that in curiositioy of knowing he is the same; ●e cuts himself out more work than he can do, and more than he needs to do: Extending the utitility of knowledge as far as the matter. 
Seneca, Epist. 106.  Vt omnium rerum, sic literarum quoque, intemperanti● laboramus. That, as of every thing else, we should also be sick of the intemperance of Letters. And Tacitus has reason to commend the Mother of Agricola, for having restrained her Son in his too violent appetite of learning. 'Tis a good, if duly considered, which has in it, as the other goods of men have, a great deal of vanity, and of proper and natural weakness, and that costs very dear; the acquisition of it is more hazardous than that of all other meat or drink. For in other things, what we have bought we carry home in some vessel, and there have liberty to examine our markets, how much it costs, and what 'tis worth, according to the Season: but Sciences we can at the very first bestow into no other vessel than the Soul; we swallow them in buying, and return from the market, either already infected or amended. There are of such sorts as only burden and over-charge the Stomach instead of nourishing; and moreover, some, that under colour of curing, poison us. I have been pleased, in place where I have been, to see men in Devotion vow Ignorance as well as Chastity, Poverty, and Penitence. 'Tis also a gelding of our unruly Appetites, to blunt this cupidity that spurs us on to the study of Books, and to deprive the Soul of this voluptuous complacency, that tickles us with the Opinion of Knowledge. And 'tis plenarily to accomplish the Vow of Poverty to add unto it that of the Mind. We need not be taught to live at our ease. And Socrates tells us, that it is in us, with the way how to find it, and the manner how to use it. All these Acquisitions of ours, which exceed our natural ones, are upon the matter superfluous and vain. 'Tis much if they do not more burden and cumber us than they do us good. Paucis opus est literis ad mente● bonam. 
Ibidem.  A man of good natural Parts, and a good Disposition, has no great need of Learning. 'Tis a feverish excess of the Mind; a tempestuous and unquiet Instrument. Do but recollect yourself, and you will find in yourself natural Arguments against Death, which are true, and more proper, and fit to serve you in time of necessity. 'Tis they that make a Peasant, and an entire People die with as much constancy as a Philosopher. Should I have died less cheerfully before I had read Cicero's Thusculanes? I believe not. And when I find myself at the best, I perceive that my Tongue is enriched indeed, but my Courage little or nothing elevated by them. It is just as Nature forged it at first, and against any conflict only defends itself after a natural and ordinary way. Books have not so much served me for Instruction as Exercise. What if Knowledge, trying to arm us with new defences against natural Inconveniences, has more imprinted in our fancies their weight and grandeur, than her reasons and subtleties to secure us from them? They are subtleties indeed, with which she oft alarms us to little purpose. Do but observe, how many slight and frivolous, and if nearly examined, how many incorporeal Arguments the closest and wisest Authors scatter about one good one. They are no other but quirks and fallacies to amuse and gull us. But for as much as it may be with some profit, I will sift it no further. Many of that sort are here and there dispersed up and down this Treatise, either upon borrowing, or by imitation; therefore ought a man to take a little heed, not to call that force which is only a knack of writing, and that solid, which is only quick, or that good, which is only fine. 
Thus. lib. 5▪  Quae magis gustata quam potata delectant; Which more delight in tasting, than in being drank off. Every thing that pleases does not nourish. 
Sen. Epist.  Vbi non ingenii sed animi negotium agitur. Where the question is not about improving the Wit, but bettering the Understanding. To see the bustle that Seneca keeps to fortify himself against Death, to see him so sweat and pant to harden and encourage himself, and bate so long upon the Perch, would have lessened his Reputation with me, had he not very bravely maintained it to the last. His so ardent and frequent agitations discover that he was in himself impetuous and passionate. Magnus' animus remissius loquitur▪ 
Seneca. Epist. 115.  & securius: Non est alius ingenis, alius animo colour. A great courage speaks more negligently and more securely. The Wit and Courage wear one and the same Livery. He must be convinced at his own expense. And he does in some sort discover that he was hard laid to by his Enemy. Plutarch's way, by how much it is more disdainful, and farther stretched, is, in my opinion, so much more manly and persuasive: and I am apt to believe, that his Soul had more assured and more regular motions. The one more sharp, pricks and makes us start, and more touches the Soul; the other more solid, informs, establishes, constantly supports us, and more touches the Understanding. That ravishes the Judgement, this wins it. I have likewise seen other Writings yet more reverenced than these, that in the representation of the conflict they maintain against the Temptations of the flesh, depaint them so sharp, so powerful and invincible, that we ourselves, who are of the meaner sort of the People, are as much to wonder at the strangeness and unknown force of their temptation, as at their resistance. To what end do we so arm our selves with this harness of Philosophy? Let us look down upon the poor People that we see scattered upon the face of the Earth, prone and intent upon their Business, that neither know Aristotle, nor Cato, Example, nor Precept. Even from these does Nature every day extract effects of Constancy and Patience, more pure and manly than those we so inquisitively study in the Schools. How many do I ordinarily see, who slight Poverty? how many that desire to die, or that do it without alarm or regret? He that is now digging in my Garden, has this Morning buried his Father, or his Son. The very names by which they call Diseases, sweeten and mollify the sharpness of them. The Phthisic is with them no more but a Cough, the Bloodyflux but a looseness, a Pleurisy but a stitch, and, as they gently name them, so they patiently endure them. They are very great and grievous indeed, when they hinder their ordinary Labour; and they never keep their Beds, but to die. Simplex illa, 
Seneca. Epist. 95.  & aperta virtus in obscuram, & solertem scientiam versa est. That plain and simple Virtue is converted into an obscure and cunning Knowledge. I was writing this about a time when a great load of our intestine troubles for several Months lay with all its weight upon me. I had the Enemy at my Door on one side, and the freebooters, worse Enemies than they, on the other; 
Seneca.  Non armis, sed vitiis, certatur; and underwent all sorts of Military Injuries at once. 


Ovid.  Hostis adest dextra laevaque à parte timendus,  
Vicinoque malo terret utrumque latus.   

On either hand an Enemy alarms,  
And threatens both sides with injurious arms.   A monstrous War! Other Wars are bend against Strangers, this against itself; and destroys itself with its own Poison. 'Tis of so malignant and ruinous a nature, that it ruins itself with the rest; and with its own rage mangles and tears itself to pieces. We ofter see it dissolve of itself, than through scarcity of any necessary thing, or by force of the Enemy. All Discipline evades it. It comes to compose Sedition, and is itself full of it; Will chastise Disobedience, and itself is the Example; and, employed for the defence of the Laws, rebels against those of our own. What a Condition are we in? Our Physic makes us sick. 


Plutarch.  Notre mal s'empoisonne  
Du secours qu'on luy donne.   

Such is our fate, that our Disease  
Our Remedies do still increase.   


Aeneid. lib. 12.  exuperat magis, aegrescitque medendo.   

His Physic makes him worse, and sicker still.   


Catullus.  Omnia fanda nefanda malo permista furore,  
Justificam nobis mentem avertêre Deorum.   

Right and wrong, shuffled in this Civil War,  
Have robbed us of the God's protecting care.   In the beginning of Popular Maladies, a man may distinguish the sound from the sick; but when they come to continue, as ours have done, the whole body is then infected from head to foot, and no part is free from Corruption. For there is no Air that men so greedily draw in, that diffuses itself so soon, and that penetrates so deep as that of Licence. Our Armies only subsist, and are kept together by the cement of Strangers; for of French there is now no constant and regular Body of an Army to be made. What a shame it is? there is no more Discipline but what we learn from borrowed Soldiers. As to us ourselves, our Conduct is at discretion, and not of the Chief, but every one at his own; the General has a harder game to play within than he has without: In the Word of Command to march, draw up, wheel, and the like, we obey him indeed; but all the rest is dissolute and free. It pleases me to observe how much Pusillanimity and Cowardice there is in Ambition; by how abject and servile ways it must arrive at its end, but withal, it displeases me to see good and generous Natures, and that are capable of Justice, every day corrupted in the managery and command of this Confusion. Long toleration begets habit, habit consent and imitation. We had ill contrived Souls enough, without spoiling those that were generous and good; so that if we hold on, there will not remain any with whom to intrust the health of this State of ours, in case Fortune chance to restore it. 


Virgil. Georg. l. 1.  Hunc saltem everso juvenem succurrere seclo,  
Ne prohibete—   


Mr. Ogilby.  Ah! for young Caesar now yourselves engage,  
That he again repair this ruined Age.   What is become of the old Precept, That Soldiers ought more to fear their Chief, than the Enemy? 
An Orchard of ripe Apples enclosed within the Roman Camp, left untouched to the Possessor.  And that wonderful Example, that an Orchard being enclosed within the precincts of a Camp of the Roman Army, was seen at their dislodgment the next day in the same condition, not an Apple, though ripe and delicate, being pulled off, but all left to the Possessor? I could wish that our Youth, instead of the time they spend in less fruitful Travels, and less honourable Employments, would bestow one half of that time in being an Eye-witness of Naval Exploits, under some good Captain of Malta, and the other half in observing the Discipline of the Turkish Armies; for they have many differences and advantages over ours. One thing is, that our Soldiers here become more licentious in Expeditions, there more temperate and circumspect. For the thefts and insolences committed upon the common People, which are only punished with a Cudgel in Peace, are capital in War. For an Egg taken in Turkey without paying for't, fifty blows with a Cudgel is the prefixed rate; for any thing else, of what sort, or how trivial soever, not necessary to nourishment, they are presently impaled, or beheaded without mercy. I am astonished, in the History of Selim, the most cruel Conqueror that ever was, to see that when he subdued Egypt, the beautiful Gardens about Damas' being all open, and in a conquered Land, and his Army encamped upon the very place, should be left untouched by the hands of the Soldiers, by reason they had not received the signal of Plunder. But is there any Disease in a Government so important, as aught to be physick'd with such a mortal Drugg? No, said Favonius, not so much as the tyrannical Usurpation of a Commonwealth. Plato likewise will not consent that a man should violate the Peace of the Country to cure it; and by no means approves of a Reformation that disturbs and hazards all, and that is to be purchased at the price of the Citizen's blood and ruin; determining it to be the duty of a good Patriot in such a case to let it alone, and only to pray to God for his extraordinary Assistance: And seems to be angry with his great Friend Dion, for having proceeded something after another manner. I was a Platonic in this point, before I knew there had ever been such a man as Plato in the World. And if this Person ought absolutely to be rejected from our Society; (he who by the sincerity of his Conscience, merited from the Divine favour to penetrate so far into the Christian light, through the universal darkness, wherein the World was involved in his time) I do not think it would well become us to suffer ourselves to be instructed by a Heathen▪ how great an Impiety it is not to expect from God any relief simply his own, and without our Co-operation. I often doubt, whether amongst so many men as tamper in such affairs, there is not to be found some one of so weak Understanding as to have been really persuaded that he went towards Reformation by the worst of Deformations, and advanced towards his Salvation by the most express causes that we have of most assured Damnation; that by overthrowing Government, Magistracy, and Laws, in whose protection God has placed him, by inspiring fraternal Minds with parricidal Animosities, and by calling Devils and Furies to his aid, he can assist the most holy sweetness and Justice of the divine Law. Ambition, Avarice, Cruelty, and Revenge, have not sufficient, proper, and natural Impetuosity of their own, let us bait them with the glorious titles of Justice and Devotion. There cannot a worse estate of things be imagined, than where wickedness comes to be legitimate, and assumes, with the Magistrates permission, the cloak of Virtue. Nihil in speciem fallacius, quam prava religio, ubi deorum numen praetenditur sceleribus. Nothing has a more deceiving face than false Religion, where devotion is pretended by wicked men. The extremest sort of Injustice, according to Plato, is, that that which is unjust should be reputed for just. The common People suffered therein very much then, not present damages only; 
— undique totis  
Vsque adeo turbatur agris, 
Virgil. Eleg. 1. —  but future too. The living were to suffer, and so were they who were yet unborn. They robbed and stripped them, and consequently they did me, even to their hope; taking from them all they had laid up in store to live on for many years. 

Quae nequeunt secum ferre aut abducere, perdunt, 
Ovid de Trist. l. 3. Eleg. 10.   
Et cremat insontes turba scelesta casus  
Muris nulla fides, squallent populatibus agri.   

What they can't bear away, they spoil and spurn,  
And lewd Rabble harmless houses burn;  
Walls can't secure their Masters, and the field  
Through waste and spoil does an ill prospect yield.   Besides this shock I suffered others. I underwent the inconveniences that moderation brings along with it in such a Disease. I was peeled on all hands, to the Gibelin I was a Guelph, and to the Guelph a Gibelin; some one of the Poets in my Study expresses this very well, but I know not where it is. The situation of my House, and my friendliness to my Neighbours, presented me with one face, my Life and my Actions with another. They did not lay formed accusations to my charge, for they had no foundation of so doing. I never slink, nor hide my head from the Laws, and whoever would have questioned me, would have done himself a greater prejudice than me. They were only mute suspicions that were whispered about, which never want appearance in so confused a mixture, no more than envious or idle heads. I commonly myself lend a hand to presumptuous injuries that Fortune scatters abroad against me, by a way I have ever had of evading to justify, excuse, or explain myself, conceiving, that it were to refer my Conscience to arbitration, to plead in its behalf; Perspicuitas enim, Argumentatione elevatur. For the Perspicuity of a cause is clouded and darkened by Argumentation. And, as if every one saw as clearly into me as I do myself, instead of retiring from an accusation, I step up to meet it, and rather give it some kind of colour by an ironical and scoffing confession, if I do not fit totally mute, as of a thing not worth my answer. But such as look upon this kind of behaviour of mine as too haughty a Confidence, have as little kindness for me as they who interpret it the weakness of an indefensible cause; namely, the great ones, towards whom want of submission is a very great fault. Rude to all Justice that knows and feels itself, and is not submiss, humble, and suppliant. I have oft knocked my head against this Pillar. So it is, that at what then befell me an ambitious man would have hanged himself, and a covetous man would have done the same. I have no manner of care of getting. 

Sit mihi quod nuno est etiam minus, 
Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 18.  ut mihi viv●m  
Quod superest ●vi, si quid superesse volent Dii.   

I only pray that small estate which I 
Mr. Alexander Brome.   
Now have, may tarry with me till I die,  
And those few days which I have yet to live  
(If Heaven to me any more days will give)  
I may enjoy myself.   But the losses that befell me by the injury of others, whether by theft or violence, go almost as near my heart, as they would do to that of the most avaricious man. The offence troubles me, without comparison, more than the loss. A thousand several sorts of mischiefs fell upon me in the neck of one another; I could better have born them all at once. I have already been considering to whom amongst my Friends I might commit a helpless and decrepit Age; and having turned my Eyes quite round, I found myself at a loss. To let a man's self fall plum down, and from so great a height, it ought to be in the arms of a solid, vigorous, and fortunate Friendship. They are very rare, if there be any. At last I concluded that it was safest for me to trust to myself in my greatest Necessity, and if it should so fall out, that I should be but upon cold terms in Fortune's favour, I should so much more pressingly recommend me to my own, and look so much the better to myself. Men on all occasions throw themselves upon foreign Assistances to spare their own, which are the only certain and sufficient ones with which they can arm themselves. Every one runs elsewhere, and to the future, forasmuch as no one is arrived at himself. And I was satisfied, that they were profitable Inconveniencies, forasmuch as ill Scholars are to be admonished▪ with the Rod, when Reason will not do, as a crooked piece of Wood is by fire and straining to be reduced to straightness. I have a great while preached to myself to stick close to my own Concerns, and separate myself from the affairs of others; yet I am still turning my Eyes aside. A bow, a kind word or look from a great Person tempts me; of which God knows how little scarcity there is in these days, and how little they signify. I moreover, without wrinkling my forehead, harken to the persuasions are offered me, to draw me into some place of Traffic, and so gently refuse it, as if I were half willing to be overcome. Now to so indocile a spirit blows are required, and this Vessel which thus chaps and cleaves, and is ready to fall one piece from another, is to have the hoops forced down with good sound strokes of a Mallet. Secondly, that this accident served me for Exercise to prepare me for worse, if I, who both by the benefit of Fortune, and by the condition of my Manners, hoped to be the last, should happen to be one of the first should be trapped in this storm. Instructing myself betimes, to force my Life, and fit it for a new Estate. The true liberty is to be able to do what a man will with himself. 
Seneca.  Potentissimus est qui se habet in potestate. He is most potent, who has himself in his own Power. In an ordinary and quiet time, a man prepares himself for moderate and common accidents; but in the Confusion wherein we have been for these thirty years, every Frenchman, whether in particular or in general, sees himself every hour upon the point of the total ruin and overthrow of his Fortune. By so much the more ought he to have his Courage munited with the strongest and most vigorous Provisions. Let us thank Fortune, that has not made us live in an effeminate, idle, and languishing Age; some who could never have been so by other means, will be made famous by their misfortunes. As I seldom read in Histories the confusions of other States without regret that I was not present, better to consider them; so does my curiosity make me in some sort please myself with seeing with my own eyes this notable spectacle of our public Death, its form and symptoms. And seeing I could not hinder it, am content to be destined to assist in it, and thereby to instruct myself. Thus do we manifestly covet to see, though but in Shadow▪ and the Fables of theatres, the pomp of Tragic representations of humane Fortune. 'Tis not however without compassion of what we hear, but we please ourselves in rousing our displeasure by the rarity of these to be pitied Events. Nothing tickles that does not pinch. And good Historians skip over, as a stagnant Water and dead Sea, calm Narrations, to be again upon the Narrative of Wars and Seditions, which they know are most acceptable to the Readers. I question whether or no I can handsomely confess at how mean and vile a rate of Repose and Tranquillity I have passed over above the one half of my Life in the rui● of my Country. I make myself a little to● good a bargain of Patience, in accidents that do not so much regard what they take from me, as what remains safe, both within and without. There is comfort in evading, one while one, another while another, of those evils that are levelled at me too at last, but at present hurt others only about us; as also, that in matters of public Interest, the more my affection is universally dispersed, the weaker it is. To which may be added, that it is half true. Tantum ex publicis malis sentimus, quantum ad privatas res pertinet. We are only so far sensible of public Evils, as they respect our private Affairs. And that the Health from which we fell was such, that itself consolates the regret we ought to have. It was Health, but not otherwise than in comparison of the Sickness that has succeeded it. We are not fallen from any great height. The corruption and thievery which is in Dignity and Office, seems the most insupportable to me. We are less injuriously rifled in a Wood than in a place of security. It was an universal Juncture of particular Members, rotten to emulation of one another, and the most of them with inveterate Ulcers, that neither required nor admitted of any Cure. This conclusion therefore did really more animate than press me by the assistance of my Conscience, which was not only at peace within itself, but elevated, and I did not find any reason to complain of myself. Also, as God never sends Evils any more than Goods, absolutely pure to men, my Health continued at that time more than usually good; and, as I can do nothing without it, there are few things that I cannot do with it. It afforded me means to rouse up all my provisions, and to lay my hand before the wound, that would else peradventure have gone farther, and experimented in my Patience, that I had some opposition against Fortune; and that it must be a great shock could throw me out of the Saddle. I do not say this to provoke her to give me a more vigorous Charge; I am her humble Servant, and submit to her pleasure. Let her be no other towards me than she has used to be in God's Name. Do you ask if I am sensible of her Assaults? Yes, certainly I am. But, as those who are possessed and oppressed with sorrow, may sometimes suffer themselves nevertheless by intervals to taste a little Pleasure, and are sometimes surprised with a Smile. So have I so much power over myself, as to make my ordinary Condition quiet, and free from disturbing Thoughts; but I suffer myself withal by fits to be surprised with the stings of those unpleasing imaginations that assault me, whilst I am arming myself to drive them away, or at least, to wrestle with them. But behold another aggravation of the evil which befell me in the tail of the rest. I am both without doors and within assaulted with a most violent Plague in comparison of all other. For, as sound bodies are subject to more grievous Maladies, forasmuch as they are not to be forced but by such, so my very healthful Air, where no contagion, though very near, in the memory of man, could ever take footing, coming to be corrupted, produced most strange Effects. 


Horace, lib. 1. Ode. 28.  Mista senum, & juvenum densantur funera, nullum  
Saeva caput Proserpina fugit.   


Sir Thomas Hawkins.  In death, both young and old by heaps do join,  
Nor any Head escapes sad Proserpina.   I was to suffer this pleasant Condition, that the sight of my House was frightful to me. Whatever I had there was without Guard, and left to the mercy of every one. I myself, who am of so hospitable a Nature, was myself, i● very great distress for a Retreat for my Family. A wild and scattered Family, frightful both to its Friends and self, and filling every Place with horror where it did attempt to settle; being to shift abode so soon as any one's singer began but to ache. All Diseases are then concluded to be the Plague, and People do not stay to examine and be sure whether they are it or no. And the mischief on't is, that according to the Rules of Art, in every danger that a man comes near, he must undergo a Quarantine in the suspense of his Infirmity; your imagination all that while tormenting you at pleasure, and turning even your Health itself into a Fever; yet would not at all this have gone very near to my Heart; had I not withal been compelled to be sensible of others sufferings, and miserably to serve six Months together for a Guide to this Caravanne: For I carry my Antidotes within myself, which are Resolution and Patience. Apprehension, which is particularly feared in this Disease, does not so much trouble me. And, if being alone, I should have taken it, it had been a more sprightly, and a longer flight. 'Tis a kind of death, that I do not think of the worst sort; 'tis commonly short, stupid, without pain, and consolated by the public condition; without ceremony, without mourning, and without a crowd. But as to the People about us, the hundredth part of them could not be saved. 

— videas desertaque regna 
Virg Georg. lib. 3.   
Pastorum, & longè saltus lateque vacantes.   

Deserted Realms now may'st thou see of Swains 
Mr. Ogilby.   
And every where forsaken Groves and Plains.   In this place my best Revenue is manual. 
A cruel Plague in Gascony.  What an hundred men ploughed for me, lay a long time fallow. But than what example of resolution did we not see in the simplicity of all this People? Every one generally renounced all care of Life. The Grapes, the principal Revenue of the Country, hung in clusters upon the Vines, every one indifferently preparing for, and expecting Death, either to Night, or to Morrow, with a Countenance and Voice so far from fear, as if they had contracted with Death in this Necessity, and that it had been an universal and inevitable Sentence. 'Tis always such. But how slender hold has the resolution of dying? The distance and difference of a few hours, and the sole consideration of company, renders the apprehension various to us. Do but observe these, by reason that they die in the same Month, Children, young People, and old, they are no longer astonished at it, they lament no more. I saw some who were afraid of staying behind, as in a dreadful solitude, and did not commonly observe any other solicitude amongst them, than that of Sepultures; they were troubled to see the dead bodies scattered about the Fields at the mercy of Beasts, which presently began to flock about them. How differing are the fancies of Men! The Neorites, 
Sepulture of the Neorites.  a Nation subjected by Alexander, threw the bodies of their dead in the deepest, and least frequented part of their Woods, on purpose to have them there eaten; the only Sepulture reputed happy amongst them. Some who were yet in health, digged their own Graves, and others laid them down in them whilst alive; 
Roman Soldiers suffocated with their own hands after the Battle of Cannae.  and a Labourer of mine, in dying, with his Hands and Feet pulled the Earth upon him. Was not this to nustle and settle himself to sleep at greater ease? A bravery in some sort like that of the Roman Soldiers, who after the Battle of Cannae, were found with their Heads thrust into holes in the Earth, which they had made, and in suffocating themselves, with their own hands pulled the Earth about their Ears. In short, a whole Nation by usance was brought to a Discipline nothing inferior in undauntedness to the most studied and premeditated Resolution. Most instructions of Sciences, to encourage us, have in them more of show than of force, and of Ornament, than effect. We have abandoned Nature, and will teach her what to do; her who did so happily, and so securely conduct us. And in the mean time, from the footsteps of her Instruction, and that little, which by the benefit of ignorance, remains of her Image imprinted in the life of this rustic rout of unpolished men, Science is constrained every day to borrow thence to make a pattern for her Disciples of Constancy, Tranquillity, Innocence. 'Tis pretty to see, that these complain of so much fine Knowledge, being to imitate this foolish simplicity, and that in the most principal acts of Virtue. And that our Wisdom must learn even from Beasts, the most profitable instructions in the greatest and most necessary Concerns of humane life: As, how we are to live and die, manage our Fortunes, love, and bring up our Children, and to maintain Justice. A singular testimony of humane Infirmity, and that this Reason we so handle at our Pleasure, finding evermore some diversity and novelty, leaves with us no apparent trace of Nature. And they make men, as Perfumers mix their Oils, they have sophisticated it with so many Argumentations and far-fetched Discourses, that it is become variable, and particular to every one of them, and has lost its proper, constant, and universal face. And we must seek testimony from Beasts, not subject to favour, corruption, nor diversity of Opinions. For it is indeed true, that even they themselves do not always go exactly in the Path of Nature, but wherein they do swerve, 'tis so little, that you may always see the tract. As Horses that are lead make several bounds and curvets, but 'tis always at the length of the Collar, and they still follow him that leads them; and as a Hawk takes his flight but still under the restraint of his Cranes. 
Seneca. Epist.  Exilia, Tormenta, Bella, Morbos, Naufragia meditare, ut nullo sis malo tyro. Meditate upon Banishments, Tortures, Wars, Diseases, and Shipwrecks, that thou may'st not be to seek in any disaster. What good will this Curiosity do us, to preoccupate all the Inconveniencies of humane Nature, and to prepare ourselves with so much trouble against things which peradventure will never befall us? (parem passis tristitiam facit, 
Seneca. Epist. 74.  pati posse. It troubles men as much that they may possibly suffer, as if they really did. Not only the blow, but the wind of the blow strikes us.) Or like Phrenetick People, for certainly 'tis a Frenzy to go immediately and whip yourself, because it may so fall out, that Fortune may one day make you undergo it; and to put on your Furr'd-gown at Midsummer, because you will stand in need of it at Christmas? Throw yourselves, say they, into the experience of all the evils, the most extreme evils that can possibly befall you, assure yourselves there. On the contrary, the most easy, and most natural way would be to banish even the thoughts of them. They will not come soon enough, their true Being will not continue with us long enough, we must lengthen and extend them; we must incorporate them in us before hand, and there entertain them, as if they would not otherwise sufficiently press upon our Senses. We shall find them heavy enough when they come, (says one of our Masters, of none of the tender, but the most severe Sects) in the mean time favour thyself, believe what pleases thee best. What good will it do thee to prevent thy ill Fortune, to lose the present for fear of the future; and to make thyself immediately miserable, because thou art to be so in time? These are his Words. Science indeed does us one good Office, in instructing as exactly in the dimensions of Evils. Curis acuens mortalia corda. 
Virgil.  'Twere pity that any part of their Grandeur should escape our Sense and Knowledge. 'Tis certain, that for the most part, the preparation for Death has administered more Torment than the thing itself. It was of old truly said, and by a very judicious Author, 
Seneca.  Minus afficit sensus fatigatio, quam cogitatio. Suffering itself does less afflict the Senses, than the apprehension of suffering. The Sentiment of present death does sometimes of itself animate us with a prompt Resolution no more to avoid a thing that is utterly inevitable. Several Gladiators have been seen, who, after having fought timorously and ill, have courageously entertained Death, offering their Throats to the Enemy's Sword, and bidding them dispatch. The remote sight of future Death requires a Constancy that is slow and lazy, and consequently hard to be got. If you know not how to die, never trouble yourself; Nature will fully and sufficiently instruct you upon the place, she will exactly do that business for you, take you no care: 


●ropert.  Incertam frustra mortales funeris horam  
Quaeritis, & qua sit mors aditura via:  
Poen● minor certam subito perferre ruinam,  
Quod timeas, gravius sustinuisse diu.   

Mortals, in vain's your Curiosity  
To know the Hour, and Death that you must die:  
Better your fate strike with a sudden blow,  
Than that you long should what you fear foreknow.   We trouble Life by the care of Death, 
That Death ought not to be premeditated.  and Death by the care of Life. The one torments, the other frights us. 'Tis not against Death that we prepare, that is too momentary a thing; a quarter of an hours suffering without consequence, and without nuisance, does not deserve particular Precepts. To say the truth, we prepare ourselves against the Preparations of Death. Philosophy ordains, that we should always have Death before our Eyes, to foresee and consider it before the time; and after gives us Rules and Precautions to provide that this foresight and thought do us no harm: Just so do Physicians, who throw us into Diseases, to the end they may have whereon to lay out their Drugs, and their Art. If we have not known how to live, 'tis mystery to teach us to die, and make the end difform from all the rest. If we have known how to live constantly and quietly, we shall know how to die so too. They may boast as much as they please. Tota Philosophorum Vita, commentatio mortis est. 
Cic. Thus.  That the whole Life of a Philosopher is the Meditation of his Death. But I fancy, that though it be the end, 'tis not the aim of his Life. 'Tis his end, his extremity, but not nevertheless his object. She ought herself to be to herself her own aim and design; her true study is to order, govern, and suffer herself. In the number of several other Offices, that the general and principal Chapter of knowing how to live comprehends, is this Article of knowing how die; and did not our fears give it weight, one of the lightest too. To judge of them by the utility, and by the naked truth, the lessons of simplicity are not much inferior to those which the contrary Doctrine preaches to us. Men are differing in sentiment and force, we must lead them to their own good, according to their Capacities, and by various ways: 


Horace, lib. 1. Epist. 1.  Quo me cumque rapit tempestas deferor hospes.   


Sir. Rich. Fanshaw.  sworn to no man's words,  
To this, and that side I make tacks and boards,  
Now plunged in billows of the active Life,  
At Virtue's Anchor ride contemplative.   I never saw any Countryman of my Neighbours concern himself with the thought of, with what countenance and assurance he should pass over his last hour; Nature teaches him not to dream of Death till he is dying: and then he does it with a better grace than Aristotle, upon whom Death presses with a double weight, both of itself, and of so long a premeditation. And therefore it was the opinion of Caesar, that the least premeditated Death was the easiest and the most happy. 
Seneca. Epist. 92.  Plus dolet quam necesse est, qui ante dolet quam necesse est. He grieves more than is necessary, who grieves before it is necessary. The sharpness of this imagination springs from our own curiosity. Thus do we ever hinder ourselves, desiring to prevent and govern natural prescriptions. 'Tis only for Doctors to dine worst, when in the best Health, and that they have the best stomaches, and to frown, and be out of humour at the Image of Death. The common sort stand in need of no remedy nor consolation, but just in the shock, and when the blow comes; and consider no more than just what they endure. Is it not then, as we say, that the stupidity and name of apprehension in the Vulgar gives them that patience in present Evils, and that profound carelessness of future sinister Accidents? That their Souls, by being more gross and dull, are less penetrable, and not so easily moved? if it be so, let us henceforth, in God's name, teach nothing but Ignorance. 'Tis the utmost fruit which the Sciences promise us, to which this Stupidity so gently leads its Disciples. We have no want of good Masters, who are interpreters of natural simplicity. Socrates shall be one. For, as I remember, he speaks something to this purpose, to the Judges who sat upon his Life and Death." I am afraid, (my masters) that if I entreat you to put me to death, I shall confirm the Evidence of my Accusers, which is, that I pretend to be wiser than others, as having some more secret knowledge of things that are above and below us. 
Socrates' his pleeding.  I know very well, that I have neither frequented nor known Death, nor have ever seen any person that has tried his Qualities, from whom to inform myself. Such as fear it, presuppose they know it; as for my part, I neither know what it is, nor what they do in the other World. Death is peradventure an indifferent thing, peradventure a thing to be desired. 'Tis nevertheless to be believed, if it be a transmigration from one place to another, that it is a bettering of one's condition, to go live with so many great Persons deceased, and to be exempt from having any more to do with unjust and corrupted Judges: if it be an annihilation of our Being, 'tis yet a bettering of one's condition, to enter into a long and peaceable night. We find nothing more sweet in Life than a quiet Repose, and a profound Sleep without Dreams. The things that I know to be evil, as to offend a man's Neighbour, and to disobey one's Superior, whether it be God or Man, I carefully avoid: such as I do not know whether they be good or evil, I cannot fear them. If I go to die, and leave you alive, the Gods alone only know whether it will go better either with you or me; wherefore, as to what concerns me, you may do as you shall think fit; but according to my method of advising just and profitable things, I do affirm, that you will do your Consciences more right to set me at liberty, unless you see further into my cause than I. And judging according to my past actions, both public and private, according to my intentions, and according to the profit that so many of our Citizens, both young and old, daily extract from my Conversation, and the fruit that you reap from me yourselves, you cannot more duly acquit yourselves towards my merit, than in ordering, that, my poverty considered, I should be maintained in the 
* The public Exchequer.  Prytaneum, at the Public expense; a thing that I have often known you with less reason grant to others. Do not impute it to obstinacy or disdain, that I do not, according to the custom, supplicate, and go about to move you to commiseration. I have both Friends and Kindred, not being (as Homer says) begotten of a block, or of a stone, no more than others, that are able to present themselves before 〈◊〉 in tears and mourning, and I have three desolute children with which to move you to compassion: But I should do a shame to our City, at the Age I am, and in the reputation of Wisdom wherein I now stand, to appear in such an object form. What would men say of the other Athenians? I have always admonished those who have frequented my Lectures, not to redeem their Lives by an indecent action; and in any the Wars of my Country, at Amphipolis, Potidea, Delia, and other Expeditions where I have been, I have effectually manifested how far I was from securing my safety by my shame. I should moreover in●erest your Duty, and should tempt you to unhandsome things,; for 'tis not for my Prayers to persuade you, but for the pure and solid reason of Justice. You have sworn to the Gods to keep yourselves upright, and it would seem as if I suspected, or would recriminate upon you, should I not believe that you are so: And I should give evidence against myself, not to believe them as I ought, mistrusting their Conduct, and not purely committing my Affair into their hands. I do wholly rely upon them, and hold myself assured, they will do in this what shall be most fit both for you and me. Good men, whether living or dead, have no reason to fear the Gods.  
Is not this an innocent childish pleading of an immaginable loftiness, and in what a necessity employed? In earnest, he had very good reason to prefer it before that which the great Orator Lysias had penned for him: admirably couched indeed in the judiciary style, but unworthy of so noble a Criminal. Had a suppliant voice been heard out of the mouth of Socrates, that lofty Virtue had struck sail in the height of its glory. And ought his rich and powerful nature to have committed her defence to Art, and in her highest proof have renounced truth and simplicity, the ornaments of his speaking, to adorn and deck itself with the Embellishments of figures, and equivocations of a premeditated Speech? He did very wisely, and like himself, not to corrupt the tenure of an incorrupt Life, and so sacred an image of humane form, to spin out his Decrepitude the poor eeching of a year, and to betray the immortal memory of that glorious end. He owed his Life not to himself, but to the Example of the World. Had it not been a public damage, that he should have concluded it after a lazy and obscure manner? Doubtless, that careless and indifferent consideration of his Death, very well deserves that Posterity should consider him so much the more, as they also did. And there is nothing so just in Justice, than that which Fortune ordained for his recommendation. For the Athenians abominated all those who had been causers of his death to such a degree, that they avoided them as excommunicated Persons, and looked upon every thing as polluted, that had been touched by them: no one would wash with them in the public Baths: none would salute, or own acquaintance with them: so that at last, unable longer to support this public hatred, they hanged themselves. If any one shall think, that amongst so many other Examples that I had to choose out of in the Sayings of Socrates, for my present purpose, I have made an ill choice of this, and shall judge that this Discourse is elevated above common Conceit; I must tell them that I have purposely done it; for I am of another opinion, and do hold it a Discourse in rank and simplicity much behind and inferior to common contrivance. He represents, in an inartificial boldness, and infantive security, the pure and first impression and ignorance of Nature. For it is to be believed, that we have naturally a fear of Pain, but not of Death, by reason of itself. 'Tis a part of our Being, and no less essential than Living. To what end should Nature have begot in us a hatred to it, and a horror of it, considering that it is of so great utility to her in maintaining the Succession and Vicissitude of her Works? And that in this universal Republic it conduces more to truth and augmentation, than to loss or ruin. 
— sic rerum summa novatur, 
Lecret. l. 2.   
Mille animus una necata dedit.  The failing of one Life, is the passage to a thousand other Lives: Nature has imprinted in Beasts the care of themselves, and of their conservation. Nay, they proceed so far, as to be timorous of being worse▪ of hitting or hurting themselves, and of our haltering and beating them; accidents which are subject to their sense and experience; 
Beasts naturally solicitous of their preservation.  but that we should kill them they cannot fear, nor have not the faculty to imagine and conclude such a thing as Death▪ Yet it is said, that we see them, not only cheerfully undergo it, Horses for the most part neighing, and Swans singing when they die; but moreover seek it at need: of which Elephants have given many Examples. But besides all this, is not the way of arguing which Socrates here makes use of, equally admirable, both in simplicity and vehemence? Really, it is much more easy to speak like Aristotle, and to live like Caesar, than to speak and live as Socrates did. There lies the extreme degree of perfection and difficulty: Art cannot reach it. Now our Faculties are not so trained up. We do not try, we do not know them, we invest ourselves with those of others, and let our own lie idle. As some one may say of me, that I have here only made a Nosegay of culled Flowers, and have brought nothing of my own but the thread that ties them. In earnest, I have so far yielded to the public Opinion, that those borrowed Ornaments do accompany me, but I do not think that they totally cover and hide me; that is quite contrary to my design, who desire to make a show of nothing but what is my own, and what is my own by Nature: and had I taken my own advice, I had at all adventures spoken purely alone. I daily more and more load myself every day beyond my purpose and first Method, upon the account of Idleness, and the humour of the Age. If it misbecome me, as I believe it does, 'tis no matter, it may be of use to some other. Such there are, who quote Plato and Homer, who never saw either of them: and I also have taken out of places far enough distant from their Source. Without pains and without Learning, having a thousand Volumes about me in the place where I write, I can presently borrow, if I please, from a dozen such Scrap-gatherers as I am, Authors that I do not much trouble myself withal, wherewith to embellish this Treatise of Physiognomy. There needs no more, but a praeliminary Epistle of the Germane cut, to stuff me with proofs, and we by that means go a begging for a fading Glory, and a cheating the sottish World. These Rhapsodies of Common Places, wherewith so many furnish their Studies, are of little use but to common Subjects, and serve but to show, and not to direct us: a ridiculous fruit of Learning, that Socrates does so pleasantly canvas against Euthidemus. I have seen Books made of things that were never either studied or understood; the Author committing to several of his learned Friends the examination of this and t'other matter to compile it; contenting himself for his share to have projected the Design, and by his industry to have tied together this Faggot of unknown Provisions; the Ink and Paper at least are his. This is to buy or borrow a Book, and not to make one; 'tis to show men, not that a man can make a Book, but that, whereof they may be in doubt, that he cannot make one. A Precedent in my hearing boasted, that he had cluttered two hundred and odd common places in one of his Judgements; in telling which, he deprived himself of the Glory that had been attributed to him. In my Opinion, a pusillanimous and absurd Vanity for such a Subject, and such a Person. I do quite contrary; and amongst so many borrowed things, am glad if I can steal one, disguising and altering it for some new service, at the hazard of having it said, that 'tis for want of understanding its natural use. I give it some particular address of my own hand, to the end it may not be so absolutely strange. These set their thefts to show, and value themselves upon them. And also they have more credit with the Laws than with me. We Naturalists think that there is a great and incomparable preference in the honour of Invention, to that of Quotation. If I would have spoke by Learning, I had spoke sooner, I had writ in a time nearer to my Studies, when I had more Wit and better Memory; and would sooner have trusted to the vigour of that Age than this, would I have professed Writing. And what if this gracious Favour which Fortune has lately offered me upon the account of this work, had befallen me in such a time of my Life, instead of this, wherein 'tis equally desirable to possess, and ready to lose? Two of my Acquaintance, great men in this faculty, have, in my Opinion, lost half, in refusing to publish at forty years old, that they might stay till threescore. Maturity has its defects as well as verdure, and worse; 
Old Age unfit for the writing of Books.  and old age is as unfit for this kind of business as any other. Who commits his Decrepitude to the Press, plays the fool if he think to squeeze any thing out thence that does not relish of Dotage and Stupidity. Our Wits grow costive and thick in growing old. I deliver my Ignorance in pomp and state, and my Learning meagerly and poorly; this accidentally and accessorily, that principally and expressly; and write purposely of nothing, but nothing, nor of any Science but that of Inscience. I have chosen a time, when my Life, which I am to give an account of, lies wholly before me; what remains holds more of Death. And of my death only, should I find it a prating death as others do, I would moreover give an account at my departure, 
Socrates a deformed Fellow.  Socrates was a perfect Exemplar in all great Qualities, and I am vexed that he had so deformed a Body as is said, and so unsuitable to the Beauty of his Soul, himself being so amorous, and such an admirer of Beauty. Nature surely did him wrong. There is nothing more likely than a conformity and relation of the Body to the Soul. 
Cic. Thus. lib. 1.  Ipsi animi magni refert quali in corpore locati sint: multi enim è corpore ex●stunt, quae acuunt montem: multa quae obtundant. It is of great consequence in what Bodies Souls are placed, for many things spring from the Body that sharpen the Mind, and many that blunt and dull it. This speaks of an unnatural ugliness and deformity of Limbs: but we call that ill-favour'dness also, an unseemliness at first sight, which is principally lodged in the Face, and distastes us by the Complexion, a Spot, a rude Countenance, sometimes from some inexplicable cause, in members nevertheless of good symmetry and perfect. The Deformity that clothed a very beautiful Soul in Boetia was of this Predicament. That superficial ugliness, which nevertheless is always the most imperious, is of least prejudice to the state of the Mind, and of little certainty in the Opinion of men. The other, which by a more proper name, is called a more substantial Deformity, strikes deeper in. Not every Shoe of smooth sliming Leather, but every Shoe neatly made, shows the interior shape of the Foot. As Socrates said of his, that it accused just so much in his Soul, had he not corrected it by institution; but in saying so, I believe he did but scoff, as his Custom was, and never so excellent a Soul made itself. 
What Beauty is, and how much to be esteemed.  I cannot oft enough repeat how great an esteem I have for Beauty, that potent and advantageous Quality. He called it a short Tyranny, and Plato, the Privilege of Nature. We have nothing that excels it in Reputation; it has the first place in the commerce of men; it presents itself to meet 〈◊〉, seduces and prepossesses our Judgements with great Authority and wonderful Impression Phr●ne had lost her Cause in the hands of an excellent Advocate▪ if opening her Robe, she had not corrupted her Judges by the lustre of her Beauty. And I find that Cyrus, Alexan●nder, and Caesar, the three Masters of the World, never neglected Beauty in their greatest Affairs, no more did the first Scipio. The same word in Greek signifies both fair and good, and the Holy-Ghost oft calls those good, whom he means fair. I should willingly maintain the priority in things called goods, according to the Song, which Plato calls an idle thing, taken out of some of the ancient Poets, of Health, Beauty, and Riches. Aristotle says, 
Beautiful Persons fit to command.  that the right of Command appertains to the beautiful▪ and when there is a Person whose Beauty comes near the Images of the Gods, that then Veneration is likewise due. To him who asked him why Peope ofter and longer frequented the company of handsome Persons? That Question, said he, is not to be asked by any, but one that is blind. The most, and the greatest Philosophers, paid for their schooling, and acquired Wisdom by the Favour and Mediation Beauty. Not only in the men that serve me, but also in the Beasts, I consider them within two fingers breadth of Goodness. And yet I fancy that those Features and Moulds of a Face, and those Lineaments by which men guess at our internal Complexions, and our Fortunes to come, is a thing that does not very directly and simply lie under the Chapter of Beauty and Deformity, no more than every good odour and serenity of Air promises Health, nor all fog and stink, Infection, and a time of Pestilence. Such as accuse Ladies of contradicting their Beauty by their Manners, do not always hit right; for in a Face which is none of the best, there may lie some air of probity and trust: as on the contrary, I have seen betwixt two beautiful Eyes, menaces of a dangerous and malignant Nature. There are some Physiognomies that are favourable, so that in a crowd of victorious Enemies, you shall presently choose, amongst men you never saw before, one rather than another, to whom to surrender, and with whom to intrust your Life, and yet not properly upon the Consideration of Beauty. A man's look is but a feeble warranty, and yet it is something considerable too. And if I were to lash them, I would most severely scourge the wicked ones, who belie and betray the promises that Nature has planted in their Foreheads. I should with great Severity punish Malice in a mild and gentle Aspect. It seems as if there were some happy and some unhappy Faces; and I believe there is some Art in distinguishing affable from simple Faces, severe from rude, malicious from pensive, scornful from melancholic, and such other bordering Qualities. There are Beauties which are not only fair, but sour; and others▪ that are not only sweet, but more than that, faint. To prognosticate future adventures, is a thing that I shall leave undecided. I have, as to my own concern, as I have said elsewhere, simply and nakedly embraced this ancient Rule, That we cannot fail in following Nature; and that the sovereign Precept is to conform ourselves to her. I have not, as Socrates did, corrected my natural Complexions by the force of Reason, and have not in the least molested Inclination by Art. I have let myself go as I came; I contend not. My two principal parts live of their own accord in Peace and good Intelligence, but my Nurse's Milk, thanks be to God, was tolerably wholesome and good. Let me say this by the way, that I see a certain Image of scolastick Honesty, almost only in use amongst us, in greater esteem than 'tis really worth; a slave to Precepts, and fettered with hope and fear. I would have it such, as that Laws and Religions should not make, but perfect and authorize it, that finds it has wherewithal to support itself without help, born and rooted in us from the seed of universal Reason, and imprinted in every man by Nature. That Reason which rectified Socrates from his vicious bent, renders him obedient to Gods, and Men of Authority in his City; courageous in Death, not because his Soul is immortal, but because he is mortal. 'Tis a Doctrine ruinous to all Government, and much more hurtful than ingenious and subtle, which persuades the People, that a religious belief is alone sufficient, and without manners, to satisfy the Divine Justice. Usance demonstrates to us a vast distinction betwixt Devotion and Conscience▪ I have a tolerable aspect, both in Form and Interpretation▪ 


Terence, Heaut. Act. 1. Scen. 1.  Quid d●xi habere m●? juro habui Chreme.  
Heu! tantum attriti corporis ossa vid●s▪   

Have, did I say? No, Chremes, I had on●●,  
Of a worn Body thou but see'st the Bones.   and that makes a quite contrary show to that of Socrates. It has oft befallen me, that upon the mere credit of my presence, and the air of my face, Persons who had no manner of knowledge of me, have put a very great confidence in me, whether in their own affairs or mine; And I have in foreign Parts obtained favours both singular and rare; but amongst the rest, these two Examples are peradventure worth particular relation: A certain Person, deliberated to surprise my House, and me in it; his Artifice was to come to my Gates alone, and to be importunate to be let in; I knew him by name, and had reason to repose a confidence in him, as being my neighbour, and something related to me, I ●aus'd the Gates to be opened to him, as I do to every one, where I found his Horse panting, and all on a foa●●. He presently popped me in the mouth with this Flim-flam," That about half a League off he had unluckily met with a certain enemy of his, whom I also knew, and had heard of their quarrel; that this enemy had given him a very brisk chase, and that having been surprised in disorder, and his Party being too weak, he was fled to my Gates for refuge: And that he was in great trouble for his followers, whom, he said, he concluded to be all either dead or taken. I innocently did my best to comfort, assure, and refresh him. Presently after, comes four or five of his Soldiers, that presented themselves in the same countenance and affright, to get in too, and after them more, and still more, very well mounted and armed, to the number of five and twenty, or thirty, pretending that they had the Enemy at their heels. This mystery began a little to awake my suspi●ion. I was not ignorant what an Age I lived in, how much my House might be envied, and I had several examples of others of my Acquaintance who had miscarried after that manner. So it was, that knowing there was nothing to be got in having begun to do a courtesy, unless I went through with it, and I could not disengage myself from them without spoiling all; I let myself go the most natural and simple way, as I always do, and invited them all to come in. And in truth, I am naturally very little inclined to suspicion and distrust. I willingly incline towards excuse, and the gentlest interpretation. I take men according to the common order, and no more believe those perverse and unnatural inclinations, unless convinced by manifest evidence, than I do Monsters and Miracles; and am moreover a man who willingly commit myself to Fortune, and throw myself headlong into her arms, and have hitherto found more reason to applaud, than to condemn myself for so doing; having ever found her more sollicitious of, and more a friend to my affairs, than I am myself. There are some actions in my Life, wherein the Conduct may justly be called difficult; or, if they please, prudent. Yet of those, supposing the third part to have been my own, doubtless the other two Thirds were absolutely and solely hers. We are, methinks, too blame, in that we do not enough trust Heaven with our affairs, and pretend to more from our own Conduct than appertains to us. And therefore it is that our designs so oft miscarry. Heaven is displeased at the extent that we attribute to the right of humane Prudence above his, and cuts it shorter, by how much the more we amplify it. The last comers kept themselves on horseback in my Court, whilst their Leader was with me in the Parlour, who would not have his Horse set up in the Stable, saying, he would immediately retire, so soon as he should have news of the rest of his men. He saw himself Master of his Enterprise, and nothing now remained but the execution. He has since several times said, (for he was not ashamed to tell the story himself) that my Countenance and freedom had snatched the Treachery out of his hands. He again mounted his horse; his followers having continually their Eyes intent upon him, to see when he would give the sign; very much astonished to see him march away and leave his prey behind him. Another time, relying upon I know not what Truce, newly published in the Army, I took a Journey through a very tickle Country. I had not rid far, but I was discovered, and two or three Parties of Horse, from several places, were sent out to take me; one of them the third day overtook me, where I was charged by fifteen or twenty Gentlemen in Vizors, followed at a distance by a Band of Argoulets. Here was I surrendered, and taken, withdrawn into the thick of a neighbouring Forest, dismounted, sobbed, my Trunks rifled, my Cabinet taken, and my Horses and Equipage divided amongst new Masters. We had in this Copse a very long Contest about my Ransom, which they set so high, that it very well appeared I was not known to them. They were moreover in a very great debate about my Life; and in truth, there were several circumstances that threatened me of the danger I was in. 

Tunc animis opus, Aenea tunc pectore firmo. 
Aenid. l. 6.    

Then, than Aeneas, there was need  
Of an undaunted hear indeed.   I still insisted upon the Truce, being willing they should only have the gain of what they had already taken from me, which also was not be despised, without promise of any other Ransom. After two or three hours that we had been in this place, and that they had mounted me upon a pitiful Jade that was not likely to run from them, and committed me to the guard of fifteen or twenty Harquebuzers, and dispersed my Servants to others, having given order that they should carry us away Prisoners several ways, and being already got some two or three Musket-shot from the place, 


Catullus.  Jam praece Pollucis jam Castoris implor●ta;   

Whilst I implored Castor and Pollux aid;   behold a sudden and unexpected alteration; I saw the Chief amongst them return to me with gentler Language, making search amongst the Troopers for my squandered Goods, and causing as many as could be recovered to be restored to me, even to my Cashet; but the best present they made me was my Liberty, for the rest did not much concern me in those days. The true cause of so sudden a change, and of this more mature deliberation, without any apparent impulse, and of so miraculous a repentance, in such a time, in a complotted and deliberated Enterprise, and become just by usance, (for at the first dash I plainly confessed to them of what Party I was, and whither I was going) in earnest, I do not yet rightly apprehend. The most eminent amongst them, who pulled off his Vizor, and told me his name, then several times told me over and over again, that I was obliged for my deliverance to my Countenance, and the liberty and boldness of my Speech, that rendered me unworthy of such a misadventure, and demanded assurance from me of the like courtesy. 'Tis like that the Divine bounty would make use of this vain Instrument for my preservation, and moreover defended me the next day from other and worse Ambushes, which even these had given me warning of. The last of these two Gentlemen is yet living, to give an account of the story; the first was killed not long ago. If my Face did not answer for me, if men did not read in my Eyes, and in my Voice, the innocency of my Intention, I had not lived so long without quarrels, and without giving offence, with the indiscreet liberty I take, right or wrong to say whatever comes at my Tongue's end, and to judge so rashly of things. This way may with reason appear uncivil, and ill adapted to our way of Conversation, but I have never met with any who have judged it outrageous or malicious, or that took offence at my liberty, if he had it from my own mouth. Repeated words have another kind of sound and sense: neither do I hate any Person whatever, and am so slow to offend, that I cannot do it, even upon the account of Reason itself. And when occasion has invited me to sentence Criminals, I have rather chose to fail in point of Justice than to do it. Vt magis peccari nolim, quam satis animi ad vindicand● peccata habeam. So that I had rather men should not offend▪ than that I should have the heart to condemn them, Aristotle, 'tis said, was reproached for having been too merciful to a wicked man: 
Aristotle reproached for being merciful.  I was indeed, said he, merciful to the man, but not to his wickedness. Ordinary Judgements exasperate themselves to Punishment by the horror of the Fact. Even this cools mine. The horror of the first Murder makes me fear a second, and the deformity of the first Cruelty makes me abhor all imitation of it. That may be applied to me, who am but a Knave of Clubs, which was said of Charillus King of Sparta, he cannot be good, being he is not evil to the wicked. Or thus; for Plutarch delivers it both these ways, as he does a thousand other things, variously, and contrary to one another; He must needs be good, because he is so even to the wicked. Even as in lawful actions I do not care to employ myself, when for such as are displeased at it; so, to say the truth, in unlawful things, I do not make conscience enough of employing myself, when for such as are willing.   

CHAP. XIII. Of Experience.  
THere is no desire more natural than that of Knowledge. We try all ways that can lead us to it; where Reason is wanting, we therein employ Experience, 

Per varios usus artem experientia fecit: 
Manil.   
Exemplo monstrante viam.   

By several proofs Experience Art has made:  
Example being guide.   which is a means much more weak and cheap. But Truth is so great a thing, that we ought not to disdain any Mediation that will guide us to it. Reason has so many forms, that we know not to which to take; Experience has no fewer. The Consequence we will draw from the conference of Events is unsure, by reason they are always unlike. There is no quality so universal in this Image of things, as diversity▪ and variety. Both the Greeks, the Latins, and we, for the most express Example of similitude, have pitched upon that of Eggs. And yet there have been men, particularly one at Delphos, who could distinguish marks of difference amongst Eggs so well, that he never mistook one for another: And, having many Hens, could tell which had laid it. Dissimilitude intrudes itself of itself in our works; no Art can arrive at a perfect Similitude. Neither Perozet, nor any other Cardmaker, can so carefully polish and blanche the backs of his Cards, that some Gamesters will not distinguish them by seeing them only shuffled by another. Resemblance does not so much make one, as difference makes another. Nature has obliged herself to make nothing other that was not unlike. And yet I am not much pleased with his Opinion, who thought by the multitude of Laws to curb the Authority of Judges, in cutting them out the Cantels. He was not aware that there is as much liberty and stretch in the Interpretation of Laws, as in their fashion; and they but fool themselves, who think to lessen and stop our debates, by summoning us to the express words of the Bible: Forasmuch as humane Wit does not find the Field less spacious wherein to controvert the sense of mother, than to deliver his own▪ and, as if there were less animosity and tartness in glozing than Invention. We see how much he was deceived; for we have more Laws i● France, than in all the rest of the World besides; and more than would be necessary for the Government of all the Worlds of Epicurus▪ Vt olim Flagitiis▪ 
Tacitus.  sic nunc Legibus laboramus▪ so that as formerly we were sick of Wickedness, we are now sick of the Laws: and yet we have left so much to the debate and decision of our Judges, that there never was so full and uncontrolled a Liberty. What have our Legislators got by culling out a hundred thousand particular Cases, and for those, by having added a hundred thousand Laws? This number holds no manner of proportion with the infinite diversity of humane Actions; the multiplication of our Inventions will never arrive at the variety of Example●. Add to them a hundred times as many more, it will not nevertheless ever happen, that of events to come, there shall any one fall out, that in this great number of millions of events so chosen and recorded, shall jump with any one, to which it can be so exactly coupled and compared, that there will not remain some Circumstances and Diversity which will require a variety of Judgement. There is little relation betwixt our Actions that are in perpetual mutation, and fixed and immobile Laws; the most to be desired, are those that are the most rare, the most simple and general: and I am further of Opinion, that we were better to have none at all, than to have them in so prodigious number as we have. Nature always gives them better, and more pure than those are we make ourselves; witness the Picture of the Golden-Age, and the s●●ate wherein we see Nations live, who have no other. Some there are, 
Passengers made use of for Judges.  who for their only Judge, takes the first passer by that travels along their Mountains, to determine their Cause: And others, who, on their Market day, choose out some one amongst them upon the place, to decide all their Controversies. What danger would there be, that the wisest should so determine ours, according to occurrences, and by sight, without obligation of Example and Consequence? Every Shoe to his own Foot. King Ferdinand sent Colonies to the Indies, and wisely provided that they should not carry along with them any Students of the Long-Robe, for fear lest Suits should get footing in that new World; as being a Science in its own Nature, the Mother of altercation and decision; judging with Plato, that Lawyers and Physicians are the Pests of a Country. Whence does it come to pass that our common Languages, so easy for all other uses, become obscure, and are intelligible in Wills and Contracts? And that he who so clearly expresses himself; whatever he speaks or writes, cannot find in this any way of declaring himself that does not fall into doubt and contradiction? If it be not that these Princes of that Art, applying themselves with a peculiar attention to invent and cull out hard words, and contrive artificial Clauses, have so weighed every Syllable, and so thoroughly sifted every sort of quirk, that they are now confounded and entangled in the infinity of Figures, and so many minute Divisions, that they can no more fall into any Rule or prescription, nor any certain intelligence. Confusum est quidquid usque in pulvere in sectum est. Whatever is beaten into Powder is confused. As you have Children trying to bring a mass of Quicksilver to a certain number of parts, the more they press and work it, and endeavour to reduce it to their own will, the more they irritate the liberty of this generous Metal; it mocks and evades their endeavour, and sparkles itself into so many separate Bodies, as frustrates all account: so is it here, for in subdividing these subtleties, we teach men to increase their doubts, they pull us into a way of stretching and diversifying difficulties, they lengthen and disperse them. In sowing and retailing of Questions, they make the World to fructify and increase in uncertainties and disputes. As the Earth is made fertile by being crumbled and husbanded deep. Difficultatem facit Doctrina; Doctrine begets Difficulty. We doubted of Ulpian, and are now more perplexed with Bartolus and Baldus. We should put out the trace of this innumerable diversity of Opinions, not adorn ourselves with it, and fill Posterity with Crotchets. I know not what to say to it, but Experience makes it manifest, that so many interpretations dissipate Truth, and break it. Aristotle writ to be understood, which if he could not be, much less will another that is not so good at it; and a third than he, who expressed his own Thoughts. We open the matter, and spill it in pouring out. Of one Subject we make a thousand, and in multiplying and subdividing them, fall again into the infinity of Atoms of Epicurus. Never did two men make the same Judgement of the same thing; and 'tis impossible to find two Opinions exactly alike, not only in several men, but in the same men, at divers hours. I oft find matter of doubt, of things which the Commentary disdains to take notice of. I am most apt to stumble in an even Country, like some Horses that I have known, who make most trips in the smoothest way. Who will not say that Glosses augment Doubts and Ignorance, since there's no one Book to be found, either Humane or Divine, which the World busies itself about the Difficulties of, which are cleared by Interpretation. The hundredth Commentator still refers you to the next, more knotty and perplexed than he. When were we ever agreed amongst ourselves, that a Book had enough, and that there was now no more to be said? This is most apparent in the Law. We give the Authority of Law to infinite Doctors, infinite Arrests, and as many Interpretations; Yet do we find any end of the need of interpreting? Is there for all that, any progress or advancement towards Peace; or do we stand in need of any fewer Advocates and Judges, than when this great Mass of Law was yet in its first Infancy? We on the contrary darken and bury all Intelligence. We can no more discover it, but at the mercy of so many fences and barriers. Men do not know the natural Disease of the Mind, it does nothing but ferret and inquire, and is eternally wheeling, juggling, and perplexing itself; and like Silkworms, suffocates itself with its own Web. Must in pice. A Mouse in a pitch Barrel. It thinks it discovers at a great distance I know not what glimpse of light and imaginary Truth; but whilst running to it so many Difficulties, Hindrances▪ and new Inquisitions, crosses its way, that it loses its way, and is made drunk with the motion. Not much unlike Aesop's Dogs, that seeing something like a dead Body floating in the Sea, and not being able to approach it, attempted to drink the Water, to lay the passage dry, and so drowned themselves. To which, what one Crates said of the Writings of Heraclitus, falls pat enough, that they required a Reader who could swim well, that the depth and weight of his Doctrine might not overwhelm and choke him. 'Tis nothing but particular weakness that makes us content ourselves with what others, or ourselves have found out in this choice of Knowledge; one of better understanding would not rest so content, there is always room for one to succeed, nay even for ourselves, and every where else throughout; there is no end of our Inquisitions, our end is in the other World. 'Tis a sign either that Wit is grown shorter sighted when it is satisfied, or that it is grown weary. No generous Mind can stop in itself, it will still pretend further, and beyond its power; it has Sallies beyond its Effects. If it do not advance and press forward, and retire, rush, turn and wheel about, 'tis but sprightly by halves; its pursuits are without Bound or Method, its aliment is Admiration, ambiguity the Chase; which Apollo sufficiently declared, in always speaking to us in a double, obscure, and oblique Sense; not feeding, but amusing and puzzling us. 'Tis an irregular and perpetual motion, without Example, and without Aim. His Inventions heat, pursue, and interproduce one another. 

Ainsi voit on en unraisseau coulant  
Sans fin l'une eau, apres l'autre roulant,  
Et tout de rang, d'un eternel conduct,  
L'une suit l'autre, & l'une autre fuit.  
Par cettecy, celle-là est poussée,  
Et cette-cy par l'autre est devancée:  
Tousiours l'eau va dans l'eau & tousiours est-ce  
Mesme ruisseau, & tousiours eau divers.   

So in a running stream one Wave we see  
After another roll incessantly,  
And as they glide, each does successively  
Pursue the other, each the other fly:  
By this that's evermore pushed on, and this  
By that continually preceded is:  
The Water still does into Water swill,  
Still the same Brook, but different Water still.   There is more ado to interpret Interpretations than Things, and more Books upon Books, than upon all other Subjects; we do dothing but comment upon one another. Every place says, with Commentaries of Authors there is great scarcity. Is it not the principal and most reputed knowledge of our Ages to understand the Learned? Is it not the common and almost end of all Studies? Our Opinions are grafted upon one another; the first serves for a stock to the second, the second to the third, and so forth. Thus step by step we climb the Ladder. From whence it come to pass, that he which is mounted highest has oft more Honour than Merit; for he is got up but a grain upon the shoulders of the last but one. How oft, and peradventure how foolishly, have I stretched my Book, to make it speak of itself; foolishly, if for no other reason but this; that I ought to call to mind what I say of others who do the same. These frequent amorous glances that they so oft cast upon their works, witness that their Hearts pant with self love, and that even the disdainful Severity wherewith they lash and scourge them, are no other than the wanton Dissimulations of a nataral kindness: According to Aristotle, whose valuing and undervaluing himself, oft spring from the same air of Arrogancy; I urge for my excuse, that I ought in this to have more liberty than others, forasmuch as I write of myself, and of my Writings, very near as I do of my other Actions; and let my Theme return upon myself, I know not whether or no every one else will take it. I have observed in Germany, that Luther has left as many Divisions and Disputes about the doubt of his Opinions, and more than he himself has raised upon the Holy Scriptures. Our contest is verbal. I demand what Nature is, what Pleasure, Circle and Substitution are. The Question is about words, and is answered accordingly. A Stone is a Body, but if a man should further urge, and what is a Body? Substance; and what is Substance, and so on, he would drive the respondent to the end of his Cal●pin. We exchange one word for another, and oft times for one less understood. I better know what man is, than I know what animal is, or mortal, or rational. To satisfy one doubt, they pop 〈◊〉 in the mouth with three; 'tis the Hydra's head. Socrates asked Memnon what Virtue was; There is, says Memnon, the Virtue of a Man▪ and of a Woman, of a Magistrate, and of a private Person, of an old Man, and of a Child; very well, cried Socrates, we were in quest of our Virtue, and thou hast brought us a whole swarm. He put out one question, and thou returnest us a whole Hive. As no Event, nor no Face entirely resembles another, so do they not entirely differ. An ingenious mixture of Nature. If our Faces were not alike, we could not distinguish man from Beast; if they were not unlike, we could not distinguish one man from another. All things hold by some Similitude, all Example halts. And the relation which is drawn from Experience is always faulty and imperfect; comparisons are always coupled at one end or other. So do the Laws serve and are fitted to every one of our Affairs, by some wrested, biased and forced Interpretation. Since the Ethick Laws that concern the particular Duty of every one in himself, are so hard to be taught and observed, as we see they are; 'tis no wonder if those who govern so many particulars, is much more. Do but consider the form of this Justice that governs us, 'tis a true Testimony of humane weakness, so full it is of Error and Contradiction. What we find to be Favour and Severity in Justice, and we find so much of them both, that I know not whether the mean is so often met with, are sick parts, and unequal Members of the very Body, and offence of Justice. The Country People run to bring me News in great haste, that they just left in a Forest of mine, a man with a hundred Wounds upon him, who was yet breathing, and begged of them Water for pity's sake, and help to carry him to some place of relief; saying, they durst not come near him, but run away, lest the Officers of Justice should catch them there; and as it falls out with those who are found near a murdered Person, they should be called in question about this accident to their utter ruin, having neither Money nor Friends to defend their Innocence. What should I have said to these People? 'Tis certain that this Office of humanity would have brought them into trouble. How many Innocents' have we known that have been punished without the Judge's fault, and how many that have not arrived at our knowledge? This happened in my time. Certain men were condemned to die for a murder committed, their Sentence if not pronounced, at least determined and concluded on. The Judges just in the nick, are advertised by the Officers of an inferior Court hard by, that they have some men in Custody, who have directly confessed the said Murder, and make an undubitable discovery of all the particulars of the Fact. 'Twas then notwithstanding put to the question, whether or no they ought to suspend Execution of the Sentence already past upon the first accused. They considered the novelty of the Example, and the consequence of reversing Judgements, that the Sentence of Death was duly passed, and the Judges acquit of repentance: To conclude, these poor Devils were sacrificed to the forms of Justice. Philip, or some other, provided against a like Inconvenience, after this manner. He had condemned a man in a great fine towards another, by a determinate Judgement. The truth some time after being discovered, he found that he had passed an unjust Sentence; on one side was the Reason of the Cause, on the other side the Reason of the Judiciary Forms. He in some sort satisfied both, leaving the Sentence in the state it was, and out of his own Purse recompensing the interest of the condemned party. But he had to do in a repairable affair, mine were irreparably hanged. How many Sentences have I seen more criminal than the Crimes themselves? All which makes me remember the ancient Opinions, That there is a necessity a man must do wrong by retail, who will do right in gross; and injustice in little things, that will come to do Justice in great: that humane justice is formed after the model of Physic, according to which, all that is utile, is also just and honest; and of what is held by the Stoics, That Nature herself proceeds contrary to Justice in most of her works; and of what is received by the Cyrennicks, that there is nothing just of itself, but that Customs and Laws make Justice: And what the Theodorians hold, that maintain Theft, Sacrilege, and all sorts of Uncleanness just in a wise man, if he knows them to be profitable to him: there is no Remedy. I am in the same case that Alcibiades was, that I will never, if I can help it, put myself into the hands of a man who shall determine of my Head, where my Life and Honour shall more depend upon the care and diligence of my Attorney, than my own innocence. I would venture myself with such a Justice as would take notice of my good Deeds as well as my ill, and where I had as much to hope as to fear Indemnity is not sufficient pay to a man who does better than not to do amiss; but our Justice presents us but one hand, and that the left hand too; let him be who he will, he shall be sure to go off with less. In China, of which Kingdom the Governments and Arts, without commerce with, or knowledge of ours, surpasses our best Examples, in several parts of Excellence; and of which, the History gives me to understand, how much greater and more various the World is, than either the Ancients or We have been able to penetrate. The Officers deputed by the Prince to visit the state of his Provinces, as they punish those who behave themselves ill in their Places, so do they liberally reward those who have carried themselves above the common sort, and beyond the necessity of their Duty; they there present themselves, not only to be approved but to get, nor simply to be paid but to be presented. No Judge, thanks be to God, has ever yet spoke to me in the quality of a Judge, upon any account whatever, whether my own, or that of another, whether Criminal or Civil; nor no Prison has ever received me, so much as upon the account of entering in to see it. Imagination renders the very outside of a Goal formidable to me: I am so enamoured of Liberty, that should I be interdicted the remotest corner of the Indies, I should live a little more uneasy. And whilst I can find either Earth or Air open in any part of the World, I shall never lurk any where, where I must hide myself. Good God how ill should I endure the condition wherein I see so many People, nailed to a corner of the Kingdom, deprived of the privilege of entering into the principal Cities and Courts, and the liberty of the public Roads, for having quarrelled with our Laws. If those under which I live, should but wag a finger at me by way of menace, I would immediately go seek out others, let them be where they would; all my little Prudence in the Civil War wherein we are now engaged, is employed, that they may not hinder my liberty of riding from place to place. Now the Laws keep up their credit, not for being just, but because they are Laws: It is the mystical foundation of their Authority, and they have no other; and 'tis well it is so, for they are oft made by Fools; for the most part, by men that out of hatred to equality, go less in equity; but always by men who are vain and irresolute Authors. There is nothing so much, nor so grossly, nor so ordinarily faulty, as the Laws. Whoever obeys them because they are just, does not justly obey them as he ought. Our French Laws, by their irregularity and deformity, do in some sort lend a helping hand to disorder and corruption, as is manifest in their Dispensation and Execution. The Command is so perplexed and inconstant, that it in some sort excuses both Disobedience, and the Vice of the interpretation, the administration, and the observation of it. What fruit then soever we may extract from Experience, yet that however will little advantage our Institution, which we draw from foreign Examples; if we make so little profit of that we have of our own, which is more familiar to us, and doubtless sufficient to instruct us in that whereof we have need. I study myself more than any other Subject; 'Tis my Metaphysic, 'tis my Physic. 

Qua Deus hanc mundi temperet arte domum, 
Prop. lib. 3. Eleg. 3.   
Qua venit exoriens, qua deficit, unde coactis  
Cornibus in plenum menstrua luna redit:  
Vnde salo superant venti, quid flamine captet  
Eurus, & in nubes unde perennis aqua.  
Sit ventura dies mundi quae subruat arces: 
Lucan. lib. 1.   
Quaerite, quos agitat mundi labour.   

By what means God the Universe does sway,  
Or how the pale-faced Sister of the day,  
When in increasing, can her horns unite,  
Till they contract into a full orbed light.  
Why Winds do of the Sea the better get,  
Why Eurus blows, and Clouds are always wet;  
What day the World's great Fabric must o'erthrow,  
Let them inquire would the World's secrets know.   In this University, I suffer myself to be ignorantly and negligently lead by the general Law of the World. I shall know it well enough when I feel it; my Learning cannot make it alter its course; it will not change itself for me, 'tis folly to hope it; and a greater folly to concern a man's self about it, seeing it is necessarily alike, public and common. The bounty and capacity of the Governor ought absolutely to discharge us of all care of the Government. Philosophical Inquisitions and Contemplations serve for no other use but to increase our Curiosity. Philosophers, with great reason, send us back to the Rules of Nature; but they have nothing to do with so sublime a Knowledge; they falsify them, and present us her face painted with too high and too adulterate a Complexion, from whence spring so many different pictures of so uniform a Subject; as she has given us feet to walk withal, so has she given us Prudence to guide us in Life: not such an ingenious, robust, and majestic Prudence as that of their Invention; but yet one that is easy, quiet, and salutiferous; and that very well performs what the other promises, in him who has the good luck to know how to employ it sincerely and regularly, that is to say, according to Nature. The most simply to commit a man's self to Nature, is to do it the most wisely. Oh, what a soft, easy, and wholesome Pillow is ignorance and incuriosity, whereon to repose a well contrived Head! I had rather understand myself well in myself, than in Cicero; of the Experience I have of myself, I find enough to make me wise, if I were but a good Scholar. Whoever will call to mind the excess of his past Anger, and to what a degree that fever transports him, will see the deformity of this passion better than in Aristotle, and conceive a more just hatred against it. Whoever will remember the hazards he has run of those that threatened him, and the light occasions that have removed him from one state to another, will by that prepare himself for future changes, and the acknowledgement of his Condition. The Life of Caesar himself has no greater Example for us than our own, and though popular and commanding, is still a Life contingent to all humane Accidents. Let us but listen to it, and we apply to ourselves all whereof we have principal need. Whoever shall call to memory how many, and how many times he has been mistaken in his own Judgement, is he not a great fool if he does not ever after suspect it? When I find myself convinced by the Reason of another of a false Opinion, I do not so much learn what he has said to me that is new, and my own particular Ignorance, that would be no great purchase, as I do in general my own debility, and the treachery of my Understanding, from whence I extract the reformation of the whole mass. In all my other Errors I do the same, and find from this Rule great utility to Life, I regard not the Species and individual, as a Stone that I have stumbled at; I learn to suspect my steps throughout, and am careful to place them right. To learn that a man has said or done a foolish thing, is a thing of nothing. A man must learn that he is nothing but a fool, a much more ample and important Instruction. The false steps that my Memory has so often made, even then when it was most secure and confident of itself, are not idly thrown away, it may now swear to me, and assure me as much as it will, I shake my Ears, and dare not trust it, the first opposition that is made to my Testimony, puts me into suspense; and I durst not rely upon it in any thing of moment, nor warrant it in another bodies concerns: and were it not that what I do for want of Memory, others do more often for want of Faith; I should always in matter of fact, rather choose to take truth from another's mouth than my own. If every one would pry into the effects and circumstances of the Passions that sway him, as I have done into that which I am most subject to; he would see them coming, and would a little break their impetuosity and career, they do not always seize us on a sudden, there is threatening and degrees. 

Fluctus uti primo caepit cum albesoere ponto,  
Paulatim sese tollit mare & altius und●s 
Claud. vel. Lucan.   
Erigit, inde imo consurgit and athera fundo.   

As the Sea first begins to foam and fret,  
Thence higher swells, higher, and higher yet,  
Till at the last the Waves so high do rise,  
As seems to bid defiance to the Skies.   Judgement holds in me a presidial seat, at least, it carefully endeavours to make it so: it lets my Appetites take their own course, as also hatred and friendship; nay, even that I bear to myself, without feeling alteration or corruption. If it cannot reform the other parts according to its own model, at least it suffers not itself to be corrupted by them, but plays its game apart. That Advertisement to every one to know themselves, should be of important effect, since the God of Wisdom and Light caused it to be writ on the front of his Temple, as comprehending all he had to advise us. Plato says also, that Prudence is no other thing but the execution of this Ordinance; and Socrates does minutely verify the same in Xenophon. The difficulties and obscurity are not discerned in any Science, but by those that are got into it, for a certain degree of Intelligence is required to be able to know that a man knows not: and we must thrust against a Door to know whether it be bolted against us or no. From whence this Platonic subtlety springs, that neither they who know are to inquire, forasmuch as they know, nor they who do not know, for as much as to inquire they must know what they inquire of. So in this of knowing a man's self, that every man is seen so resolved and satisfied with himself, and that every man thinks himself sufficiently intelligent, signifies, that every one understands nothing at all; as Socrates gives Euthydamus to understand. ay, who profess nothing else, do therein find so infinite a depth and variety, that all the fruit I have reaped from my Learning, serves only to make me sensible how much I have to learn. To my weakness, so often confessed, I owe the propension I have to modesty, to the obedience of belief imposed upon me, to a constant coldness and moderation of Opinions, and a hatred of that troublesome and wrangling arrogancy, wholly believing and trusting in itself, the capital Enemy of Discipline and Truth. Do but hear them prate and domineer, the first fopperies they utter, 'tis in the style wherewith men establish Religions and Laws. 
Cicero, Acad. l. 1.  Nihil est turpius quam cognitioni, & perceptioni, assertionem, approbationemque precurrere. Nothing is more absurd, than that Assertion and Allowance should preceded Knowledge and Precept. Aristarchus said, that anciently there were seven Sages to be found in the World, and in his time scarce so many Fools. Have not we more reason than he to say so in this Age of ours. Affirmation and Obstinacy are express signs of want of Wit. A fellow has stumbled and broke his Nose a hundred times in a day, and yet he will be at his Ergoes as resolute and brave as before; so that one would conclude he had had some new Soul and vigour of Understanding infused into him since; and that it happened to him, as to that ancient Son of the Earth, who took new Resolutions, and was made more daring by his fall. 

— cui cum tetigere parentem 
Ovid Metam.   
Jam defecta vigent renovato robore membra.   

Whose broken Limbs upon his Mother laid,  
Immediately new force and vigour had.   Does not this incorrigible Coxcomb think that he reassumes a new understanding by undertaking a new dispute? 'Tis by my own experience that I accuse humane ignorance, which is, in my Opinion, the surest part of the World's School. Such as will not conclude it so in themselves, by so vain an Example as mine, or their own, let them believe it from Socrates, the Master of Masters. For the Philosopher Antisthenes to his Disciples, Let us go, said he, and hear Socrates, I will be a Pupil with you. And maintaining this Doctrine of the Stoical Sect, That Virtue was sufficient to make a Life completely happy, having no need of any other thing whatever, he added, If not of the form of Socrates. The long attention that I employ in considering myself, does also fit me to judge tolerably of others; and there are few things whereof I speak better, and with better excuse. I happen very oft more exactly to see and distinguish the conditions of my Friends, than they do themselves. I have astonished some with the pertinence of my description, and have given them warning of themselves. By having from my Infancy been accustomed to contemplate my own Life in those of others, I have acquired a Complexion studious in that particular. And when I am once intent upon it, I let few things about me, whether Countenances, Humours, or Discourses, that serve to that purpose, escape me. I study all, both what I am to avoid, and what I am to do. Also in my Friends, I discover by their productions their inward inclinations; not to order this infinite variety of so divers and distracted Actions into certain Genders and Chapters, and distinctly to distribute my parcels and divisions under known heads and classes. 


Virg. Georg.  Sed neque quam multae species, & nomine quae sint  
Est numerus.   

But not the number of their kind and names,  
They are too many.   The wise speak and deliver their Fancies more particularly, and handle them piece by piece. ay, who see no further into things than as usance informs me, generally present mine without Method, and also as an Inquirer. As in this, I pronounce my Sentence by loose and unknit Articles; 'tis a thing that cannot be spoke at once, and in gross. Relation and Conformity are not to be found in such low and common Souls as ours. Wisdom is a solid and entire building, of which every piece keeps its place, and carries its mark. 
Cic. de fin. lib. 3.  Sola Sapientia in se toto conversa est. Wisdom only is wholly turned into itself. I leave it to Artists, and I know not whether or no they will be able to bring it about in so perplexed a thing, to marshal into distinct Bodies this infinite diversity of Faces, to settle our Inconstancy, and set it in order. I do not only find it hard to piece our Actions to one another, but I moreover find it very hard properly to design them every one by themselves by any principal quality, so ambiguous and variform they are by several lights. That which is remarked for rare in Perseus' King of Macedon, that his Mind fixing itself to no one condition, wandered in all sorts of living, and represented Manners so wild and uncouth, that he was neither known by himself, or any other, what kind of man he was, seems almost to fill all the World. And especially I have seen another of his stature, to whom I think this Conclusion might more properly be applied; No moderate settledness, still running headlong from one extreme to another, upon occasions not to be guessed at; no manner of course without traverse and wonderful contrariety; nor no one quality simple and unmixed; so that the best guess men can one day make, will be, that he affected and studied to make himself known, by being not to be known. A man had need have long Ears to hear himself frankly censured. And being there are few that can endure to hear it without being nettled, those who hazard the undertaking it to us, manifest a singular effect of Friendship; for 'tis to love sincerely indeed, to attempt to hurt and offend us for our own good. I think it rude to censure a man whose ill Qualities are more than his good ones. Plato requires three things in him that will examine the Soul of another, to wit, Knowledge, good Will, and Boldness. I was once asked where I should have thought myself fit for, had any one designed to make use of me in my younger Years. 


Aencid. l. 5.  Dum melior Vires Sanguis dabat, aemula nedum  
Temporibus geminis canebat sparsa senectus.   

Whilst better Blood my Limbs with Vigour fed,  
And e'er old Age had snowed upon my Head.   For nothing said I. And I am willing enough to profess not knowing how to do any thing, that I may so be excused from enslaving myself to another. But I had told these truths to that Master of mine, and had controlled his Manners, if he had so pleased; not in gross by scholastic Lessons, which I understand not, and from which I see no true Reformation spring in those that do; but by observing them by leisure, at all Opportunities, and simply and naturally judging them as an Eye Witness, distinctly one by one; giving him to understand upon what terms he was in the common Opinion, in opposition to his Flatterers. There is none of us that would not be worse than Kings, if so continually corrupted as they are with that sort of Vermine. But what if Alexander, that great King and Philosopher, could not defend himself from them? I should have Fidelity, Judgement, and Liberty enough for that purpose. It would be a nameless Office otherwise, both in its Grace and Effect; and 'tis a part that is not indifferently fit for all men. For Truth itself has not the Privilege to be spoke at all times, and in all sorts, the use of it, noble as it is, has its Circumscriptions and Limits. It oft falls out, as the World now goes, that a man lets it slip into the Ear of a Prince, not only to no purpose, but moreover injuriously and unjustly. And no man shall make me believe that a virtuous Remonstrance may not be viciously applied, and that the interest of the Substance is not oft to give place to that of the Form. For such a purpose, I would have a man that is content with his own Fortune; 

Quod sit esse velit, nihilque malit. 
Mart. Epig. lib. 10. Chap. 47.    

Who likes that present state of his,  
And would not be but what he is.   and meanly born; forasmuch as on one side he would not be afraid to touch his Master's Heart to the quick, for fear by that means of losing his preferment: and on the other side, being of mean quailty, he would have more easy Communication with all sorts of People: and I would have this Office limited to only one, for to allow the Privilege of this Liberty and Privacy to many, would beget an inconvenient Irreverence; and even of that one too, I would above all things require the Fidelity of Silence. A King is not to be believed when he brags of his Constancy in standing the shock of the Enemy for his Glory, if for his Profit and Amendment, he cannot stand the Liberty of a Friends Advice, which has no other Power but to pinch his Ear, the remainder of its effect being still in his own Hands. Now there is no Condition of Men whatever who stand in so great need of true and free advertisement as they do. They support the public Life, and are to satisfy the Opinion of so many Spectators, that when men have used to conceal from them whatever should divert them from their own way, they insensibly have found themselves involved in the hatred and detestation of their People, 
Free Advice necessary for Kings.  sometimes upon so slight Occasions as they might have avoided without any prejudice even of their Pleasures themselves, had they been advised and set right in time. Their Favourites commonly have more regard to themselves, than they have to their Master; and indeed it stands them upon, forasmuch as in truth most Offices of true friendships, when applied to the Sovereign, are under a rude and dangerous hazard; so that therein there is great need, not only of very great Affection and Freedom, but of Courage too. To conclude all this Hodg-podg which I scribble, here is nothing but a Register of Essays of my own Life, which for the internal soundness is exemplary enough to take instruction against the Hair; but as to bodily health, no man can furnish out more profitable Experience than I, who present it pure, and no way corrupted and changed by Art or Opinion. Experience is properly upon its own Dunghill in the Subject of Physic, where Reason wholly gives it place. Tiberius' said, that whoever had lived twenty years, aught to be responsible to himself for all things that were hurtful or wholesome to him, and know how to order himself without Physic. And he might have learned it of Socrates, who, advising his Disciples to be solicitous of their Health, as the chiefest study, added, that it was hard if a man of Sense, having a care of his Exercises and Diet, did not better know than any Physician, what was good or ill for him. And also Physic does profess always to have Experience for the touch of its Operations. And Plato had reason to say, that to be a right Physician, it would be necessary that he who would take it upon him, should first himself have passed through all the Diseases he will pretend to cure, and through all the Accidents and Circumstances whereof he is to judge. 'Tis but Reason they should get the Pox if they will know how to cure it; for my part, I should put myself into such hands: for the others but guide us like him who paints the Sea-Rocks and Ports upon his Cloth, and there makes the Figure of a Ship to sail in all security; and put him to't in earnest, he knows not at which end to begin. They make such a Description of our Maladies, as a Town-Crier does of a lost Horse or Dog, such a Colour, such a Height, such an Ear; but bring him to him, and he knows him not for all that. God grant that Physic may one day give me some good and visible relief, namely, when I shall cry out in good earnest. 
Hor. Car.  Tandem efficaci, do manus Scientiae. The Arts that promise to keep our Bodies and Souls in Health, promise a great deal, but withal, there is none that less keep their Promise. And in our times, those that make profession of these Arts amongst us, less manifest the Effects than any other sort of men. One may say of them at the most, that they sell Medicinal Drugs, but that they are Physicians a man cannot say. I have lived long enough to be able to give an account of the Custom that has carried me so far. And, for whoever has a mind to read it, as his Taster, I give him this Essay, wherein he will find some Articles, as my Memory shall supply me with them. I have no Custom that has not varied according to accidents; but I only record those that I have been best acquainted with, and that hitherto have had the greatest possession of me. My form of Life is the same in Sickness that it is in Health, the same Bed, the same Houses, the same Meat, and the same Drink serve me in both Conditions alike; I add nothing to them but the moderation of more or less, according to my Strength and Appetite. My Health is to maintain my wont state without disturbance. I see that sickness puts me off it on one side, and if I will be ruled by the Physicians, they will put me off on the other; so that by Fortune and by Art I am out of my way. I believe nothing more certainly than this, that I cannot be offended by the usage of things to which I have been so long accustomed. 'Tis for Custom to give a form to a man's Life, such as it best pleases, she is all in all in that: 'Tis the Beverage of Circe that varies our Nature as she pleases best. How many Nations, and but three steps from us, think the fear of the serene that so manifestly is hurtful to us, a ridiculous fancy, and our Watermens and Peasants despise it. You make a Germane sick if you lay him upon a Quilt, as you do an Italian if you lay him on a Featherbed; and a Frenchman without Curtains or Fire. A Spanish Stomach cannot hold out to eat as we can, nor ours to drink like the Swiss. A Germane made me very merry at Augusta, with disputing the inconvenience of our Hearths, by the same Arguments which we commonly make use of in decrying their Stoves: For, to say the truth, that smothered heat, and then the scent of that heated matter of which the Fire is composed, very much offend such as are not used to them; not me. But as to the rest, the Heat being always equal, constant, and universal, without flame, without smoke, and without the wind that comes down our Chimneys, they may many ways induce comparison with ours. Why do we not imitate the Roman Architecture? For, they say, that anciently Fires were not made in their Houses, but on the outside, and at the foot of them, from whence the heat was conveyed to the whole Fabric by Pipes contrived in the Wall, which were drawn twining about the Rooms that were to be warmed: Which I have seen plainly described somewhere in Seneca. This Gentleman hearing me commend the Conveniences and Beauties of his City, which truly deserves it, began to lament me that I was to go away. And the first inconvenience he alleged to me was, the heaviness that the Chimneys elsewhere brought upon me. He had heard some one make this Complaint, and fixed it upon us, being by Custom deprived of the means of perceiving it at home. All heat that comes from the Fire makes me weak and dull, and yet Evenus said, that Fire was the best condiment of Life. I rather choose any other way of making myself warm. We are afraid to drink our Wines when toward the bottom of the Vessel; 
palled wine in esteem in Portugal.  in Portugal those Fumes are reputed delicate, and is the Beverage of Princes. In fine, every Nation has several Customs and Usances, that are not only unknown but savage and miraculous to some others. What should we do with those People who admit of no Testimonies, if not printed, who believe not men if not in a Book, nor truth, if not of competent Age? We dignify our fopperies when we commit them to the Press. 'Tis of great deal more weight to him you speak of, to say, I have seen such a thing▪ than if you only say, I have heard such a thing. But I, who no more disbelieve a man's Mouth than his Pen, and who know that men write as indiscreetly as they speak, and that esteem this Age as much as one that's past, do as soon quote a Friend of my Acquaintance as Aulus Gellius or Macrobius, and what I have seen, as what they have writ. And, as 'tis held of Virtue, that it is not greater for having continued longer, so do I hold of Truth, that for being older it is not wiser. I often say, that it is mere folly that makes us run after strange and scholastic Examples; their fertility is the same now that it was in the time of Homer and Plato. But is it not that we derive more honour from the quotation than from the truth of the Discourse? As if it were to borrow our proof from the Shops of Vascasan or of Plantin, than of what is to be seen in our own Village: Or else indeed, that we have not the wit to cull out and make useful what we see before us, and judge of it lively enough to draw it into Example. For if we say that we want authority to procure faith to our testimony, we speak from the purpose; forasmuch as, in my opinion, of the most ordinary, common, and known things, could we but find out their light, the greatest miracles of Nature might be formed, and the most wonderful Examples, especially upon the subject of humane actions. Now upon the Subject I am speaking of, setting aside the Examples I have gathered from Books, and what Aristotle says of Andron the Argian, that he travelled over the arid Sands of Lybia without drinking; a Gentleman, who has very well behaved himself in several Employments, said, in a place where I was, that he had rid from Madrid to Lisbon in the heat of Summer, without any Drink at all; He is very healthful, and vigorous for his Age, and has nothing extraordinary in the usance of his Life, but this, to live sometimes two or three months, nay, a whole year without drinking. He is sometimes a thirst, but he lets it pass over, and holds, it is an Appetite which easily goes off of itself, and drinks more out of humour, than either for need or pleasure. Here is another Example; 'Tis not long ago, that I found one of the Learned'st men in France, among those of the greatest Fortunes, studying in a corner of a Hall that they had separated for him with Tapestry, and about him a rabble of his Servants, that you may be sure were rude and loud enough. He told me, and Seneca almost says the same of himself, he made an advantage of this noise; as if beaten with this rattle, he so much the better recollected and retired himself into himself for Contemplation, and that this tempest of Voices repercussed his thoughts within himself. Being at Milan, he had his Study so long situated in the rattle of Coaches, and the Tumult of the public place, that he not only formed himself to the contempt, but even to the use of noise, for the service of his Studies. Socrates' answered Alcibiades, who being astonished at his Patience, asked him how he could endure the perpetual scolding of his Wife, Why, said he, as those do who are accustomed to the ordinary noise of wheels to draw Water. I am quite otherwise, I have a tender Head, and easily discomposed, when 'tis bend upon any thing, the least buzzing of a Fly tears it into pieces. Seneca, in his youth, having, by the Example of Sextius, put on a positive resolution of eating nothing but what died of itself, passed over a whole year in this Diet, and, as he said, with pleasure, and only left it off, that he might not be suspected of taking up this Rule from some new Religion, by which it was prescribed. But he took up withal, from the Precepts of Attalus, a custom, not to lie any more upon any sort of bedding that yielded under a man's weight, but even to his old age made use of such as would not yield to any pressure. What the usance of his time made him account Authority, that of ours makes us look upon as Effeminacy and Ease. Do but observe the difference betwixt the way of living of my Laborers, and that of mine; the Indies have nothing more remote both from my Force and Method. I know very well, that I have picked up Boys from begging to serve me, who soon after have quitted both my Kitchen and Livery, only that they might return to their former course of Life: and found one afterwards gathering Mussels out of the Sink for his Dinner, whom I could neither by Entreaties nor Threats, reclaim from the sweetness he found in Indigence. Beggars have their Magnificences and Delights as well as the Rich; and, 'tis said, their Dignities and Politics. These are the Effects of Custom, she can mould us not only into what form she pleases, (and yet the Sages say, we ought to apply ourselves to the best, which she will soon make easy to us) but also to change and variation, which is the most noble and most useful of all she makes us perfect in. The best of my bodily perfection is, that I am flexible, and very little obstinate. I have Inclinations more proper and ordinary, and more agreeable than others; but I am diverted from them with very little ado, and easily slip into a contrary course. A young man ought to cross his own Rules to awake his Vigour, and to keep it from growing faint and rusty. And there is no course of Life so weak and sottish, as that which is carried on by Rule and Discipline. 
Ad primum lapidem vectari complacet, 
Juven. Sat. 6.  hora  
Sumitur ex libro, si prurit frictus ocelli  
Angulus, inspecta genesi collyria quaerit.  

If he but of a mile a walk would take,  
He for the hour consults his Almanac;  
If he but rub the corner of his eye,  
He chooses Salve by his Nativity.   He shall oft throw himself even into Excesses, if he will take my advice, otherwise the least Debauch will ruin him. He will render himself uneasy, and disagreeable in conversation. The worst quality in a well bred man is delicacy, and an obligation to a certain particular way: and it is particular, if not pliable and supple. It is a kind of reproach not to be able, or not to dare to do what we see others do before us. Let such as those sit at home. It is in every man indecent, but in a Soldier vicious and intolerable; who, as Philopoemenes said, aught to accustom himself to all variety and inequality of Life. Though I have been brought up, as much as was possible, to liberty and indifference, yet so it is, that growing old, and having more settled upon certain forms (my Age is now past Instruction, and I have henceforward nothing to do but to keep it up as well as I can) Custom has already, ere I was aware, so imprinted its Character in me, in certain things, that I look upon it as a kind of excess to leave them off. And, without a force upon myself, cannot sleep in the daytime, nor eat between meals, nor breakfast, nor go to bed, without a great interval betwixt eating and sleeping, as of three hours after Supper; nor get Children but before I sleep, and never standing upon my feet, nor endure my own Sweat, nor quench my thirst either with pure Water or Wine, nor keep my head long bare, nor cut my hair after dinner; and should be as uneasy without my Gloves as without my Shirt, or without washing when I rise from Table, or out of my bed; and could not lie without a Canopy and Curtains, as if they were necessary things: I could dine without a Tablecloth, but without a clean Napkin, after the Germane fashion, very incommodiously. I foul them more than they, or the Italians do, and make but little use either of Spoon or Fork. I am sorry that the same is not in use amongst us, that I see the Example of in Kings; which is, to change our Napkins at every service, as they do our Plates. We are told of that laborious Soldier Marius, that growing old, he became nice in his Drinking, and never drank but out of a peculiar Cup of his own. ay, in like manner, have suffered myself to fancy a certain form, of Glasses, and do not willingly drink in common Glasses, no more than from a common hand: All metal offends me in comparison of a clear and transparent matter: let my eyes taste too, according to their capacity. I owe several other such niceties to Custom. Nature has also on the other side helped me to some of hers, as no more to be able to endure two full meals in one day without overcharging my Stomach, nor a total abstinence from one of those meals, without filling myself with Wind, drying up my Mouth, and dulling my Appetite, and finding great inconvenience in the Evening Air. For of late years, in night marches, which often happen to be all night long, after five or six hours my Stomach begins to be queasy, with a violent pain in my Head, so that I always vomit before the day can break. When others go to break-fast I go to sleep, and when I rise, am as brisk and gay as before. I had always been told, that the serene never desperst itself but in the beginning of the Night; but for certain years past, long and familiar frequenting a Lord possessed with this Opinion, that the serene is more sharp and dangerous about the declining of the Sun, an hour or two before his Set, which he carefully avoids, and despises that of the Night; he had almost imprinted in me, not only his Discourse, but his Opinion. What, shall the very doubt and inquisition wound our Imagination so as to turn to our Inconvenience? Such as absolutely and on a sudden give way to their Propensions, put a total ruin upon themselves. And I am sorry for several Gentlemen, who, through the Folly of their Physicians, have in their Youth and Health put themselves into Consumptions. It were yet better to endure a Cough, than by disusance for ever to lose the commerce of the common Life in an Action of so great use. Ill natured Science, to interdict us the sweetest and most pleasant hours of the Day: Let us keep Possession of it to the last. For the most part a man hardens himself by being obstinate, and corrects his Constitution; as Caesar did the Falling-sickness, by dint of Contempt. A man should addict himself to the best Rules, but not enslave himself to them; if not to such, if there be any such, to which the Obligation and Servitude are of Profit. Both Kings and Philosophers go to stool, and Ladies too; public Lives are bound to Ceremony, mine that is obscure and private, enjoys all natural Dispensation. Soldier and Gascon are also qualities a little subject to Indiscretion, wherefore I shall say this of this action of exonerating Nature, that it is necessary to refer it to certain prescribed and nocturnal Hours, and force a man's self to it by Custom, as I have done; but not to subject himself, as I have done in my declining years, to a particular Convenience of Place and Seat for that purpose, and make it troublesome by long sitting: and yet in the foulest Offices, is it not in some measure excusable to require more care and cleanliness? Natura homo mundum, 
Seneca. Epist. 92.  & elegans animal est. Man is by Nature a clean and elegant Creature. Of all the actions of Nature, I am the most impatient of being interrupted in that. I have seen many Soldiers troubled with the unruliness of their Bellies, whilst mine and I never fail of our punctual assignation, which is at leaping out of Bed, if some indispensable Business, or Sickness do not molest us. I do then think, as I said before, that sick men can better place themselves any where in better safety than in sitting still in that course of Life wherewith they have been bred and trained up. Alteration, be it what it will, does distemper and astonish. Can any believe that Chest-nuts can hurt a Perigourdin, or one of Luca; or Milk and Cheese the Mountain People: men enjoy them not only a new, but a contrary Method of Life, a change that the more healthful could not endure. Prescribe Water to a Breton of threescore and ten, shut a Seaman up in a Stove, and forbid a Basque Footman walking, they will deprive them of Motion, and in the end, of Air and Light. 

— an vivere tanti est?  
Cogimur à suctis animum suspendere rebus 
Aeneid. l. 6. Gallus. Elcg. 1.   
Atque ut vivamus vivere desinimus.  
Hoc superesse reor quibus & spirabilis aer  
Et lux qua regimur, redditur ipsa gravis.   

Is Life of such a mighty consequence?  
We must accustomed things quite over give,  
And that we may live, we must cease to live;  
I can't imagine they should longer live,  
Whom light and air, by which they live, do grieve.   If they do no other good, they do this at least, that they prepare Patients betimes for Death, by little and little undermining and cutting off the usage of Life. Both well and sick, I have ever willingly suffered myself to obey the Appetites that pressed upon me. I give great Authority to my propensions and desires. I do not love to cure one Disease by another. I hate remedies that are more troublesome than the Disease itself. To be subject to the Stone, and subject to abstain from eating Oysters, are two Evils instead of one. The Disease torments us on the one side, and the remedy on the other. Since we are ever in danger of mistaking, let us rather hazard, rather defer the discovery of the mistake till after pleasure. The World proceeds quite contrary, and thinks nothing profitable that is not painful; Facility stands suspected to it. My Appetite is in several things of itself happily enough accommodated to the health of my Stomach. Acrimony and quickness in Sauces were pleasant to me when young, but my Stomach disliking them, since my Taste incontinently followed. Wine is hurtful to sick People; and 'tis the first thing that my mouth disrelishes when I am sick, and with an invincible distaste. Whatever I take against my liking, does me harm; and nothing hurts me that I eat with Appetite and delight; I never received harm by any action that was very pleasant to me; and accordingly have made all Medicinal conclusions mightily give way to my Pleasure. And have, when I was young, 

Quem circumcursans huc, atque huc saepe cupido 
Catullus Num. 64.   
Fulgebat crocina splendidus in tunica.   

Whilst Cupid round me fluttering did fly,  
In his rich mantle of the Tyrian die.   given myself the reins as licentiously and inconsiderately to the desire that was predominant in me, as any other whatever; Et militavi non sine gloria. 
Hor. lib. 3. Ode 16.  yet more in continuation and holding out than in Sally. Sex me vix memini sustinuisse vices. 
Ovid.  'Tis certainly a misfortune, and a miracle at once, to confess at what a tender age I was first subjected to Love: it was indeed by chance; for it was long before the years of Choice or Discretion: I do not remember myself so long ago. And my Fortune may very well be coupled to that of Quartilla, who could not remember since she was a Maid. 
Ind tragus celeresque pili, 
Ovid.  mirandaque matri  
Barba mea.  Physicians do ordinarily submit their Rules to the violent Longings that happen to sick Persons, with very good success. This great desire, so strange and vicious, cannot be imagined to be, but that Nature must have a hand in it. And then how easy a thing is it to satisfy the Fancy? In my opinion, this part wholly carries it, at least, above all the rest. The most grievous and ordinary Wills are those that Fancy loads us with. This Spanish Saying mightily pleases in several senses; Defienda me Dios de my. God defend me from myself. I am sorry when I am sick, that I have not some longing that might give me the contentment of satisfying it; all the Rules of Physic would hardly be able to divert me; I do the same when I am well. I can think of very little more to be hoped or wished for. 'Tis pity a man should be so weak and languishing, as to have nothing left him but wishing. The Art of Physic is not so resolute, that we should be without Authority for whatever we do; it changes according to the Climates and Moons, according to Fernelius and Scala. If your Physicians do not think it good for you to sleep, to drink Wine, or to eat such and such Meats; never trouble yourself, I will find you another that shall not be of his Opinion; the diversity of Physical Arguments and Opinions embraces all sorts of Methods. I saw a miserable sick Person panting and burning for thirst, that he might be cured; and was afterwards laughed at by another Physician for his pains, who condemned that advice as prejudicial to him: had he not tormented himself to good purpose? A man of that Profession is lately dead of the Stone, who had made use of extreme abstinence to contend with his Disease. His fellow Physicians said, that on the contrary, this abstinence from Drink had dried his Body up, and baked the Gravel in his Kidneys. I have observed, that both in Wounds and Sicknesses, speaking discomposes and hurts me as much as any disorder I can commit. My Voice spends and tires me, for 'tis loud and forced; so that when I have gone to whisper some great Persons about Affairs of Consequence, they have oft desired me to moderate my Voice. This Story deserves a place here. Some one in a certain Greek School, speaking loud as I do, the Master of the Ceremonies sent to him to speak softly, Tell him then he must send me, replied the other, the tone he would have me speak in. To which the other replied, That he should take the tone from the Ears of him to whom he spoke. It was well said, if to be understood, Speak according to the Affair you are speaking about to your Auditor, for if it mean, 'tis sufficient that he hears you, or govern yourself by him; I do not find it to be reason. The tone and motion of my Voice carries with it a great deal of the Expression and Signification of my meaning, and 'tis I who am to govern it, to make myself understood. There is a Voice to instruct, a Voice to flatter, and a Voice to reprehend. I will not only that my Voice reach him, but peradventure that it strike and pierce him. When I rattle my Footman with sharp and bitter Language, it would be very pretty for him to say, Pray Master speak lower, I hear you very well. Est quaedam Vox ad auditum accomodata, non Magnitudine sed Proprietate. There is a certain Voice accommodated to the Hearing, not by the Loudness, but Propriety. Speaking is half his that speaks, and half his that hears; the last of which ought to prepare himself to receive it, according to its motion and rebound. Like Tennis Players, he that receives the Ball, shifts and prepares, according as he sees him move who strikes the stroke, and according to the stroke itself. Experience has moreover taught me this, that we lose ourselves with impatience. Evils have their Life and Limits, their Diseases, and their Recovery; the Constitution of Maladies is formed by the pattern of the Constitution of Animals, they have their Fortunes and Days limited from their Birth. Whoever attempts imperiously to cut them short by force in the middle of their Course, does lengthen and multiply them, and incenses instead of appeasing them. I am of Crantor's Opinion, that we are neither obstinately and wilfully to oppose Evils, nor truckle under them for want of Courage, but that we are naturally to give way to them, according to their Condition and our own, we ought to grant free passage to Diseases: And I find they stay less with me, who let them alone. And I have lost those which are reputed the most tenacious and obstinate of their own defervescence, without any Help or Art, and contrary to their Rules. Let us a little permit Nature to take her own way; she better understands her own Affairs than we. But such a one died, and so shall you, if not of that Disease, of another. And how many have not escaped dying, who have their Physicians always at their tails? Example is a bright and universal mirror, and in all Sciences. If it be a delicious Medicine, take it, 'tis always so much present good. I will never stick at the Name nor the Colour, if it be pleasant and grateful to the palate: Pleasure is one of the chiefest kinds of profit. I have suffered Rheums, gouty Defluxions, Relaxations, Palpitations of the Heart, Meagrims, and other Accidents, to grow old, and die in me a natural Death, which I have been rid of when I was half fit to nourish and keep them. They are sooner prevailed upon by Courtesy than huffing; we must patiently suffer the Laws of our Condition, we are born to grow old, to grow weak, and to be sick in despite of all Medicine. 'Tis the first Lesson the Mexicans teach their Children; so soon as ever they come out of their Mother's Wombs, they thus salute them, Thou art come into the World Child, to endure, endure, suffer, and say nothing. 'Tis injustice to lament that that is befallen any one, which may befall every one. Indignare si quid in te iniqui, proprie constitutum est. Then be angry when there is any thing unjustly decreed against thee alone. See an old man who begs of God Almighty that he will maintain his Health vigorous and entire, that is to say, that he will restore him to Youth: 


Ovid.  Stat quid haec frustra votis puerilibus optas?   

Why prayest thou Fool such childish Prayers in vain?   Is it not folly? his condition is not capable of it. The Gout, the Stone, and Indigestion, are symptoms of long Years, as Heat, Rains and Winds, are of long Voyages. Plato does not believe that Esculapius troubled himself to provide by a good diet to prolong his Life in a weak and wasted Body, useless to his Country, and to his Profession, and to beget healthful and robust Children; and does not think this Solitude suitable to the Divine Justice and Prudence, which is to direct all things to Utility. My good Friend, your Business is done, no body can restore you, they can at the most but patch you up, and prop you a little, and by that means prolong your misery an hour or two. 


Gal. Eleg. 1.  Non secus instantem cupiens fulcire ruinam,  
Diversis contra nititur obicibus,  
Donec certa dies omni compage soluta,  
Ipsum cum rebus subruat auxilium.   

Like one, who willing to defer a while  
A sudden ruin, props the tottering pile,  
Till in short space the House, the props, and all  
Together with a dreadful ruin fall.   We must learn to suffer what we cannot evade. Our Life, like the harmony of the World, is composed of contrary things, of several notes, sweet and harsh, sharp and flat, sprightly and solemn; and the Musician who should only affect one of these, what would he be able to do? He must know how to make use of them all, and to mix them; and we likewise, the goods and evils which are consubstantial with Life: Our Being cannot subsist without this mixture, and the one are no less necessary to it than the other. To attempt to kick against natural necessity, is to represent the folly of Ctesiphon, 
The folly of Ctesiphon.  who undertook to kick with his Mule. I consult little about the alterations I feel; for those People take advantage when they have you at their mercy. They cudgel your ears with their Prognostics; and having formerly surprised me, weakened with sickness, have injuriously handled me with their Doctrines and magisterial fopperies; one while menacing me with great Pains, and another, with approaching Death; by which threats I was indeed moved and shaken, but not subdued, nor justled from my place; and though my Judgement was neither altered nor distracted, yet it was at least disturbed. 'Tis always Agitation and Combat. Now I use my imagination as gently as I can, and would discharge it of all trouble and contest if I could. A man must assist, flatter, and deceive it, if he can. My mind is fit for that Office. It wants no appearances throughout. And could it persuade, as it preaches, it would successfully relieve me. Will you have an Example? It tells me that 'tis for my good to have the Stone: that the compositions of my Age are naturally to suffer some decay: that it is now time they should begin to disjoint, and to confess a decay: 'tis a common necessity, and there is nothing in it, either miraculous or new: I therein pay what is due to old Age, and I cannot expect a better account: that Society ought to comfort me, being fallen into the most common infirmity of my time. 
The Stone ordinary in old men, especially men of Quality.  I see every where men tormented with the same Disease; and am honoured by the Fellowship, forasmuch as men of the best Quality are most frequently afflicted with it; 'tis a noble and dignified Disease. That of such as are pestered with it, few have it to a less degree of Pain, and yet they are put to the trouble of a strict Diet, and the daily taking of nauseous Drugs and Potions; whereas I owe my good intervals purely to my good Fortune. For some ordinary Broths of Eryngoes, or Burst-wort, that I have twice or thrice taken to oblige the Ladies, who, with greater kindness than my Pain is extreme, would needs present me half of theirs, seemed to me equally easy to take, and fruitless in operation. They are to pay a thousand Vows to Aesculapius, and as many Crowns to their Physician, for the voiding a little Gravel, which I often do by the benefit of Nature. Even the decency of my Countenance is not disturbed in Company, and I can hold my Water ten hours, and as long as any man that is in perfect health. The fear of this Disease, says one, did formerly affright thee, when it was unknown to thee; the crying and roaring of those that make it worse by their impatience, begot a horror in thee: 'Tis an infirmity that punishes the Members by which thou hast most offended: thou art a conscientious fellow: 

Quae venit indigne poena, dolenda venit. 
Ovid.    

Punishments then to be complained of are  
When laid upon a guiltless sufferer.   consider this chastisement, 'tis very easy in comparison of that of others, and inflicted with a Paternal tenderness: Do but observe how late it comes; it only seizes on and incommodates that part of thy Life, which is upon the matter sterile, and lost; having, as it were by compact, given way to the licence and pleasures of thy Youth. The fear and the compassion that the People have of this Disease, serves thee for matter of glory. A quality, whereof if thou hast thy Judgement purified, and that thy Reason be right and sound, thy Friends will yet notwithstanding discover some tincture in thy Complexion. 'Tis a pleasure to hear it said of a man's self, here is great force, here is great patience. Thou art seen to sweat with pain, to look pale and red, to tremble, vomit blood, to suffer strange contractions and convulsions, by starts to let great tears drop from thine eyes, to urine thick, black, and dreadful Water, or to have it suppressed by some sharp and craggy stone, that cruelly pricks and tears the neck of the Bladder, whilst all the while thou entertainest the Company with an ordinary countenance, drolling by fits with thy Servants, making one in a continued discourse, now and then excusing thy pain, and making thy sufferance less than it is. Dost thou call to mind the men of past times, who so greedily sought Diseases to keep their Virtue in breath and exercise? Put the case that Nature force and put thee on to this glorious School, into which thou wouldst never have entered of thy own free will. If thou tell'st me, that it is a dangerous and mortal Disease; what others are not? For 'tis a Physical cheat to except any, and to say, that they do not go directly to death: what makes matter if they tend that way by accident, and if they easily slide and slip into the path that leads us to it? But thou dost not die because thou art sick, thou diest because thou art living. Death kills thee without the help of Sickness: And in some, Sickness has deferred Death, who have lived longer by reason that they thought themselves always dying. To which may be added, that as in Wounds, so in Diseases, some are medicinal and wholesome. The Colic is oft no less long-lived than you. We see men with whom it has continued from their Infancy even to their extreme old Age, and if they had not broke company, it would have afflicted them longer still; you ofter kill it, than it kills you: And though it present you the image of approaching Death, were it not a good Office to a man of such an Age, to put him in mind of his end? And, which is worse, thou hast no longer any thing that should make thee desire to be cured. Common Necessity will however presently call thee away. Do but consider how artificially and gently she puts thee out of taste with Life, and weans thee from the World; not forcing and compelling thee with a tyrannical Subjection, like so many other Infirmities which you see old men afflicted withal, that hold them in continual Torment, and keep them in perpetual and unintermitted Pains and Dolours; but by Advertisements and Instructions at several intervals, intermixing long pauses of repose, as it were to give thee leave to meditate and ruminate upon thy lesson at they own ease and leisure: to give thee means to judge aright, and to assume the Resolution of a man of Courage, she presents to thee the entire state of thy Condition, both in good and evil, and one while a very cheerful, and another an insupportable Life, in one and the same day. If thou embracest not Death, at least thou shak'st hands with ●t once a Month; by which thou hast more cause to hope that it will one day surprise thee without warning. And that being so oft conducted to the water side, and thinking thyself to be still upon the accustomed terms, thou and thy Confidence will at one time or another be unexpectedly wasted over. A man cannot reasonably complain of Diseases that fairly divide the time with Health. I am obliged to Fortune for having so oft assaulted me with the same sort of weapons; she forms and fashions me by usance, hardens and habituates me so, that I can know within a little for how much I shall be quit. For want of natural memory, I make one of Paper; and as any new symptom happens in my Disease, I set it down; from whence it falls out, that being now almost past all sorts of Examples, if any astonishment threaten me, tumbling over these little loose notes, as the Sibyls Leaves, I never fail of finding matter of Consolation from some favourable Prognostic in my past Experience. Custom also makes me hope better for the time to come. For the Conduct of this Evacuation having so long continued, 'tis to be believed that Nature will not alter her course, and that no other worse accident will happen than what I already feel. And besides, the condition of this Disease is not unsuitable to my prompt and sudden Complexion. When it assaults me gently, I am afraid, for 'tis then for a great while; but it has naturally brisk and vigorous Excesses. It claws me to purpose for a day or two. My Reins hold out an Age without Alteration, and I have almost now lived another since they changed their state. Evils have their Periods as well as Goods, peradventure the Infirmity draws towards an end. Age weakens the heat of my Stomach, the Digestion of which being less perfect, it sends this crude matter to my Reins; and why at a certain revolution may not the heat of my Reins be also abated, so that they can no more petrify my phlegm, and Nature find out some other way of purgation: Years have evidently helped me to drain certain Rheums; and why not these excrements which furnish matter for Gravel? But is there any thing sweet in comparison of this sudden change, when from an excessive pain, I come, by the voiding of a Stone, to recover, as from a flash of Lightning, the beautiful light of health, so free and full as it happens in our sudden and most sharp colics? Is there any thing in the pain suffered, that a man can counterpoise to the pleasure of so sudden an amendment? Oh! 
Health more pleasant after Sickness.  how much does Health seem so much the more pleasant to me after so near and contiguous sickness, as that I can distinguish them in the presence of one another in their greatest bravery, wherewith they dress themselves in emulation, as if to make head against, and to dispute it with one another! What the Stoics say, that Vices are profitably introduced, to give value to, and to set off virtue; we can with better reason, and less temerity of censure, say of Nature, that she has given us pain for the honour and service of pleasure and indolence. When Socrates, after his Fetters were knocked off, felt the pleasure of that itching which the weight of them had caused in his Legs, he rejoiced to consider the strict alliance betwixt pain and pleasure, how they are linked together by a necessary connexion, so that by turn they follow and mutually beget one another; and cried out to Aesop, that he ought out of this consideration, to have taken a Body proper for a fine Fable. The worst that I see in other diseases is, that they are not so grievous in their effect, as they are in their issue. A man is a whole year in recovering, and all the while full of weakness and fear. There is so much hazard, and so many steps to arrive at safety, that there is no end on't. Before they have unmuffled you of a Handkerchief, and then of a Callot, before they allow you to walk abroad and take the Air, to drink Wine, lie with your Wife, and eat Melons, 'tis odds you relapse into some new Distemper. The Stone has this privilege, that it carries itself clean off. Whereas others always leave behind them some impression and alteration, that renders the Body subject to some new disease, and lend a hand to one another. These are excusable, that content themselves with possessing us, without extending it farther, and introducing their consequences: But courteous and kind are those whose passage brings us any profitable issue. Since I have been troubled with the Stone, I find myself freed from all other accidents, much more methinks than I was before, and have never had any Fever since. I argue, that the extreme and frequent vomitings that I am subject to, purge me; and on the other side, my nausities, and the strange Fasts I am forced to keep, digest my present humours; and Nature in those Stones voids whatever there is in me of superfluous and hurtful. Let them never tell me that it is a medicine too dear bought. For what avails so many stinking Apozemes, Caustics, Incisions, Sweats, Seton's, Diets, and so many other methods of Cure; which oft, by reason we are not able to undergo their violence and importunity, bring us to our Graves: So that when I am ill, I look upon it as Physic, when well, for an absolute deliverance. And here is another particular benefit of my disease; which is, that it almost plays its game by itself, and lets me play mine, or else I only want Courage to do it; for in its greatest fury, I have endured it ten Hours together on Horseback; do but endure only, you need no other regiment: Play, Run, do this, and the t'other thing too if you can, your debauch will do you more good than harm. Say as much to one that has the Pox, the Gout, or Bursten Belly. The other diseases have more universal obligations, wrack our actions after another kind of manner, disturb our whole order, and to their consideration engage the whole state of life. This only pinches the Skin, it leaves the Understanding and the Will wholly at our own dispose, as also the Tongue, Hands and Feet. It rather awakes than stupifies you. The Soul is struck with the ardour of a Fever, overwhelmed with an Epilepsy, and displaced by a sharp Megrim, and finally aastonished by all the Diseases that hurt the whole Mass, and the most noble parts: This never meddles with the Soul. If any thing goes amiss with her, 'tis her own fault, she betrays, dismounts, and abandons herself. There are none but Fools who suffer themselves to be persuaded, that this hard and massy body which is baked in our Reins is to be dissolved by drinks; wherefore, when it is once stirred, their is nothing to be done but to give it passage, and also it will take it of itself. I moreover observe this particular convenience in it, that it is a disease wherein we have little to guests at. We are dispensed from the trouble into which other diseases throw us, by the incertainty of their Causes, Conditions and Progress. A trouble that is infinitely painful. We have no need of Consultations and Doctoral Interpretations, the sense well enough informs us both what it is and where it is. By such like Arguments, weak and strong, as Cicero did the disease of his Old Age, I try to rock asleep and amass my imagination, and to dress its Wounds. If I find them worse to morrow, I will provide new remedies and applications. That this is true, I am come to that pass of late, that the least motion forces pure blood out of my Reins: And what of that, I stir nevertheless as before, and ride after my Hounds with a Juvenile ardour; And find that I have very good satisfaction for an accident of that importance, when it costs me no more but a little heaviness and uneasiness in that part. 'Tis some great Stone that wastes and consumes the substance of our Kidneys, and of my Life, which I by little and little evacuate, not without some natural pleasure, as an excrement henceforward superfluous and troublesome. Now if I feel any thing to roll and stir, do not expect that I should trouble myself to consult my Pulse or my Urine, thereby to put myself upon some tormenting prevention. I shall soon enough feel the pain, without making it more and longer, by the disease of fear. Who fears to suffer, does already suffer what he fears. To which may be added, that the Doubts and Ignorance of those who take upon them to expound the designs of Nature and her internal Progressions, and the many false Prognostics of their Art, aught to give us to understand that her ways are inscrutable and utterly unknown. There is great uncertainty, variety and obscurity, 
The guessing at diseases by Urine very uncertain.  in what she either promises or threats. Old Age excepted, which is an undoubted sign of the approach of Death, in all other accidents, I see few signs of the future, wherein we may ground our Divination. I only judge of myself by my real sense, and not by discourse: To what end, since I am resolved to bring nothing to it but expectation and patience. Will you know how much I get by this? Observe those that do otherwise, and who rely upon so many divers persuasions and counsels; how oft and how much they labour under imagination, without any bodily pain at all. I have many times pleased myself, being well and in safety, and delivered from these dangerous accidents, to communicate them to the Physicians, as but then beginning to discover themselves in me; where I underwent the terrible sentences of their dreadful conclusions, being very well at ease, and was so much the more obliged to the favour of Almighty God, and better satisfied of the vanity of this Art. There is nothing that ought so much to be recommended to Youth, as Activity and Vigilance. Our Life is nothing but motion: I move with great difficulty, and am slow in every thing, whether in Rising, going to Bed, or Eating. Seven of the Clock in the Morning is early for me; and where I govern, I never Dine before Eleven, nor Sup till after Six. I have formerly attributed the cause of the Fevers, and other Diseases I have fallen into, to the heaviness that long sleeping had brought upon me, and have ever repented my sleeping again in the morning. Plato is more angry at the excess of sleeping, than that of drinking: I love to lie hard, and alone, even without my Wife, as Kings and Princes do, but well covered with clothes: They never warm my Bed, but since my being grown Old, they give me for need, warm clothes to lay to my Feet and Stomach. They find fault with the great Scipio, that he was a great Sleeper; not, in my opinion, for any other reason, if not that men were displeased, that he alone should have nothing in him to be found fault withal. If I have any thing curious in my way of Living, 'tis rather in my Lying than any thing else; but generally, I give way and accommodate myself as much as any one to necessity. Sleeping has taken up a great part of my Life, and I yet continue at the Age I now am, to sleep eight or nine hours together; I wean myself to my advantage, from this propension to sloth, and am evidently the better for so doing. I find the change a little hard indeed, but in three days 'tis over, and see but few that live with less Sleep, when need requires▪ and that more constantly exercise themselves, nor to whom long Journeys are less troublesome. My Body is capable of a firm, but not of a violent or sudden Agitation. I evade of late all violent exercises, and such as make me sweat, wherein my Limbs grow weary before they are hot. I can stand a whole day together, and am never weary of walking: But from my Youth, I never loved to Ride upon Pavements. On foot, I go up to the Breech in dirt, and little Fellows as I am, are subject in the Streets to be Elbowed and Justled, for want of Presence and Stature, and I have ever loved to repose myself, whether sitting or lying, with my Heels as high, or higher than my Seat. There is no profession is more pleasant than the military, a profession both noble in its execution, (for Valour, is the strongest, proudest, and most generous, of all Virtues) and noble in its cause. There is no Utility either more Universal, or more Just, than the protection of the Peace and grandeur of a man's Country. The company of so many Noble, Young, and Active men delights you, the ordinary sight of so many Tragic Spectacles; the liberty of this Conversation without Art, with a Masculine and unceremonious way of living, pleases you; the variety of a Thousand several Actions, the encouraging Harmony of Martial Music, that ravishes and inflames both your Ears and Souls, the Honour of this exercise, nay, even the sufferings and difficulties of War, which Plato so little esteems, that he makes Women and Children share in it in his Republic, are delightful to you. You put yourselves voluntarily upon particular Exploits and hazards, according as you judge of their lustre and importance, and see when even life itself is excusably employed.  


Aeneid. l. 2.  Pulchrumque mori succurrit in armis.   


Mr Ogilby.  And we conceive it brave to die in Arms.   
To fear common dangers that concern so great a multitude of men, not to dare to do what so many sorts of Souls, and a whole people do, is for a heart that is low, and mean beyond all measure. Company encourages so much as Children. If others excel you in Knowledge, in Gracefulness, in Strength, or Fortune, you have third causes to blame for that, but to give place to them in stability of mind you can blame no one for that but yourself. Death is more Abject, more Languishing, and Painful in Bed than in Battle; and Fevers and Catarrhs, as Painful and Mortal as a Musquet-shott: And whoever has fortified himself valiantly to bear the accidents of common life, would not need to raise his courage to be a Soldier. Vivere, mi Lucilli, militare est. To live, 
Seneca Epist. 961  my Lucillus, is to make War. I do not remember that I ever had the Itch, and yet scratching is one of nature's sweetest gratifications, and nearest at hand, but the smart follows too near. I use it most in my Ears, which are often apt to Itch. I came into the World with all my Senses entire, even to perfection. My Stomach is commodiously good, as also is my Head and my Breath; and for the most part, uphold themselves so in the height of Fevers. I have passed the age to which some Nations, not without reason, have prescribed so just a term of Life, that they would not suffer men to exceed it; and yet I have some intermissions, though short and inconstant, so clean and sound, as are little inferior to the Health and Indolency of my Youth. I do not speak of Vigour and Spriteliness, 'tis not reason that it should follow me beyond its limits.  


Hor. lib. 3. ode 10.  Non hoc amplius est liminis, aut aquae.  
— Coelestis patiens latus.   

My sides no longer can sustain  
The hardships of the Wind and Rain.   
My Face and Eyes presently discover me. All my alterations begin there, and appear worse than they really are. My Friends oft pity me, before I feel the cause in myself: My Looking-glass does not fright me, for even in my Youth, it has befallen me more than once to have a scurvy complexion, and of ill Prognostic, without any great consequence; insomuch that the Physicians, not finding any cause within, answerable to that outward alteration attributed it to the mind, and some secret passion that tormented me within; but they were deceived. If my Body would govern itself as well according to my Rule as my Mind does, we should move a little more at our ease. My mind was then not only free from Trouble, but moreover full of Joy and Satisfaction; as it commonly is, half by Complexion, and half by its own Design.  


Ovid. Trist.  Nec vitiant artus aegrae contagia mentis.   

— I never yet could find,  
That e'er my Body suffered by my mind.   
I am of the opinion, that this temperature of my Soul, has oft raised my Body from its lapses: It is oft depressed; and if the other be not brisk and gay, 'tis at lest quiet and at rest. I had a Quartan Ague four or five months, that had made me look miserably ill; my mind was always, if not calm, yet pleasant; if the pain be without me, the weakness and langour do not much afflict me: I see several corporal faintings, that beget a horror in me but to name, which yet I should less fear than a thousand passions and agitations of mind that I see in use. I resolve no more to run, 'tis enough that I crawl along; and no more complain of the natural decadency that I feel in myself, Quis tumidum guttur miratur in Alpibus? 
Juvenal.  than I regret that my duration shall not be as long and entire as that of an Oak. I have no reason to complain of my imagination, for I have had few thoughts in my Life which have so much as broke my sleep, if not those of desire, which have awaked without afflicting me; I dream but seldom, and then of Chimeras, and fantastic things, commonly produced from pleasant thoughts, and rather ridiculous than sad; and believe it to be true, that dreams are the true Interpreters of our inclinations; but there is art required to sort and understand them.  
Res quae in vita usurpant homines cogitant,  
curant, vident,  
Quaeque agunt vigilantes, agitantque, ea sicut  

Cicero de Diu.  in fomno accidunt, minus nimirum est.  
'Tis no wonder if what men practice, think, care for, see, and do when waking, should also run in their Heads, and disturb them when they are asleep.  
Plato moreover says, that 'tis the office of Prudence to draw instructions of Divination of future things from Dreams. I see nothing in it, if not the wonderful experience that Socrates, Zenephon, and Aristotle, all men of irreproachable authority relate. Historians say, 
The atlant never dream.  that the Atlantes never Dream, who also never eat any thing that died of itself: Which I add, forasmuch as it is peradventure the reason why they never Dream, for Pythagoras ordered a certain preparation of Diet, to beget proper Dreams; mine are always very gentle, without any agitation of Body or expression of voice. I have seen several of my time wonderfully distured; Theon the Philosopher walked in his sleep: as also did Pericles his Servant, and that upon the Tiles, and tops of the House. I hardly ever choose my Dish at Table, but fall to of the next at hand, and unwillingly change my Dish. A confusion of Meats, and a clutter of Dishes displeases me as much as any thing whatever. I am easily satisfied with few Dishes, and am an enemy to the opinion of Favorinus, that in a Feast they must snatch from you the meat you like, and set another Plate of another sort before you, and that it's a pitiful Supper, if you do not sat your Guests with the Rumps of several Fowls, and that the Beccafico only deserves to be all eaten. I usually eat salt meats, and yet I love Bread that has no salt in it; And my Baker never sends up other to my Table, contrary to the Custom of the Country▪ In my infancy, what they had most to correct in me, was the refusal of things that Children commonly best love; as Sugar, Sweetmeats, and Marchpanes. My Governor contended with this aversion to delicate meats as a kind nicety. And indeed 'tis nothing else but a difficulty of taste in any thing it applies itself unto. Whoever shall cure a Child of an obstinate aversion to Brown-bread, Bacon, or Garlic, will cure him of all kind of Delicacy. There are some who pretend to Temperance and Patience, by wishing for Powdered Beef and Hams amongst Pheasant and Partridge; they have a good time on't; 'tis the Delicacy of Delicacies, 'tis the taste of an effeminate Fortune, that disrelishes ordinary and accustomed things, Per quae luxuria divitiarum taedio ludit. 
Seneca Ep. 18.  To cease to make good cheer with what another does, and to be curious in what a man eats, is the essence of this vice. 

Si Medita caenare times plus omne patella.   


Hor. l. 1. Epist. 5.  If an Herb ●oop in a small dish thou fear.   There is indeed this difference, that 'tis better to oblige a man's appetite to things that are most easy to be had, but 'tis always Vice to oblige a man's self. I formerly said a kinsman of mine was nice, who, by being in our Galleys, had unlearned the use of Beds, and ●o put off his clothes. If I had any Sons, I should willingly wish them my fortune. The good Father that God gave me, (who has nothing of me but the acknowledgement of his bounty, but truly 'tis a very hearty one) sent me from my Cradle to be brought up in a Village of his, and there continued me all the while I was at Nurse, and yet longer, bringing me up to the meanest, and most common way of living: Magna pars libertatis est bene moratus venture. 
Seneca Ep. 123.  A well governed Belly is a great part of Liberty. Never take upon you yourselves, and much less give up to your Wives, 
That Mothers ought not to have the Education of their Children.  the care of their Education, leave the forming them to fortune, under popular, and natural Laws; leave it to Custom to train them up to Frugality, that they may rather descend from hardships, than mount up to them. This humour of his yet aimed at another end, that is, to make me familiar with those people, and that condition of men which most need our assistance; believing that I should be more obliged rather to regard them who extended their Arms to me, than those who turned their backs upon me. And for this Reason also it was, that he provided me Godfathers of the meanest Fortune, to oblige, and bind me to them. Neither has his design succeeded altogether ill; for, whether it be upon the account of glory, because there is no more honour in such a condescension, or out of a natural compassion, that has a very great power over me, I have a very kind inclination towards the meaner sort of people. The Faction which I condemn in our Civil Wars, I shall more sharply condemn when I see them flourish. It will half reconcile me to them, when I shall see them miserable, and suppressed. How much do I admire the generous humour of Chelonis, Daughter, 
The noble humour of Chelonis.  and Wife to the Kings of Sparta! whilst her Husband Cleombrotus, in the commotion of her City, had the advantage over Leonidas, her Father, she, like a good Daughter, stuck close to her Father in all his misery and exile, in opposition to the Conqueror. But so soon as the chance of War turned, she changed her Will with the change of Fortune, and generally turned to her Husband's side, whom she accompanied throughout, where his ruin carried him: Having, as it appears, no other choice, than to cleave to that side that stood most in need of her, and where she could best manifest her Piety and Compassion. I am naturally more apt to follow the example of Flaminius, who still more readily gave his assistance to those that had most need of him, than to those who had power to do him good; than I do to that of Pyrrhus, who was of an humour to truckle under the great, and to domineer over the meanest sort of people. Long sit at meat both trouble me, and do me harm; for, be it for want of better countenance, or that I have accustomed myself to it from a Child, I eat all the while I sit. Therefore it is, that at my own House, though the meals there are of the shortest, I usually sit down a little while after the rest, after the manner of Augustus; but I do not imitate him in rising also before the rest of the Company: On the contrary, I love to sit still a long time after, and to hear them talk, provided I am none of the talkers, for I tyre, and hurt myself with speaking upon a full Stomach, as much as I find it pleasant and very wholesome to argue, and to strain my voice before Dinner. The ancient Greeks and Romans had more reason than we, 
Long meals of the Ancients.  in setting apart for Eating, which is a principal action of Life, if not diverted by other extraordinary business, many hours, and the greatest part of the night eating and drinking more deliberately than we do, who perform all our Actions in Post haste; and in extending this natural pleasure to more leisure and better use, intermixing with their meals several pleasant and profitable offices of conversation. They whose concern it is have a care of me, may very easily hinder me from eating any thing they think will do me harm; for in such things I never covet nor miss any thing I do not see: But withal, if it once comes in my sight, 'tis in vain to persuade me to forbear, so that when I design to Fast, I must be parted from those that eat Suppers, and must have only so much given me, as is required for a regular Collation; for if I sit down to Table, I forget my resolution. When I order my Cook to alter the manner of dressing any Dish of Meat, all my Family know what it means, that my Stomach is out of order, and that I shall scarce touch it: I love to have all meats that will endure it very little boiled or roasted, and love them mightily mortified, and even to stinking in many. Nothing but hardness generally offends me, (of any other quality) I am as patient and indifferent as any man I have known: So that, contrary to the common humour, even in Fish, it oft happens, that I find them both too fresh and too firm: Not for want of Teeth, which I ever had good, even to Excellence, and that Age does but now begin to threaten at this time of my Life. I have ever been used every Morning to rub them with a Napkin, and before and after Dinner. God is favourable to those whom he makes to die by degrees; 'tis the only benefit of old Age; the last Death will be so much the less painful; it will kill but a quarter of a man; or but half a one at most. I have one Tooth lately fallen out without drawing, and without pain: it was the natural term of its duration. Both that part of my Being, and several others, are already dead, and others half dead, of those that were most active, and in highest esteem during my vigorous years; so that I melt and steal away from myself. What a folly would it be in my understanding to apprehend the height of this fall, already so much advanced, as if it were from the utmost Precipice? I hope I shall not. I in truth receive a principal Consolation in the meditations of my Death, that it will be just and natural, and that henceforward I cannot herein either require or hope from Destiny any other but unlawful Favour. Men make themselves believe that they have formerly had, as greater Statures, so longer Lives. But they deceive themselves; and Solon, who was of those elder times, does nevertheless limit the Duration of Life to threescore and ten years. ay, who have so much, and so universally adored this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a mean is best of ancient times; and shall I, who have concluded the most moderate measure the most perfect, pretend to an immeasurable and prodigious old Age? Whatever happens contrary to the Course of Nature, may be troublesome, but what comes according to her, should always be acceptable and pleasant. 
Cicero.  Omnia quae secundum Naturam fiunt sunt habenda in bonis. All things that are done according to Nature, are to be accounted good. And so Plato likewise says, that the Death which is occasioned by Wounds and Diseases is violent; but that which surprises us, old Age conducting us to it, is of all others the most easy, and in some sort delicious. Vitam adolescentibus vis aufert, 
Ibid.  senibus maturitas. Young men are taken away by force, old men by Maturity. Death mixes and confounds itself throughout with Life, decay anticipates its Hour and Shoulders, even into the course of our growing up. I have Pictures of myself taken at five and twenty, and five and thirty years of Age, I compare them with that lately drawn, how often is it no more me, how much more is my present Image unlike the former, than to that I shall go out of the World withal? It is too much to abuse Nature, to make her troth so far that she must be forced to leave us, and abandon our Conduct, our Eyes, Teeth, Legs, and all the rest, to the mercy of a foreign and begged assistance; and to resign us into the hands of Art, being weary of following us herself. I am not very fond either of Salads or Fruits, except Melons. My Father hated all sorts of Sauces, and I love them all. Eating too much hurts me, but for the quality of what I eat, I do not yet certainly know that any sort of Meat disagrees with my Stomach; neither have I observed that either Full-moon or Decrease, Spring or Autumn, are hurtful to me. We have in us motions that are inconstant, and for which no reason can be given. For Example, I found Radishes first grateful to my Stomach, since that nauseous, and now at present grateful again. In several other things likewise I find my Stomach and Appetite to vary after the same manner. I have changed and changed again, from White to Claret, from Claret to White. I am a great lover of Fish, and consequently make my Fasts, Feasts, and my Feasts, Fasts; and believe what some People say, that it is more easy of digestion than Flesh. As I make a Conscience of eating Flesh upon Fish-days, so does my Taste make a Conscience of mixing Fish and Flesh, the difference betwixt them seems to me to be too great so to do. From my Youth I have used sometimes to be out of the way at Supper, either to sharpen my Appetite against the next Morning, (for as Epicurus fasted and made lean Meals to accustom his Pleasure to make shift without abundance; I on the contrary do it to prepare my Pleasure to make better and more cheerful use of Abundance) or else I fasted to preserve my Vigour for the service of some Action of Body or Mind: for both the one and the other of those are cruelly dulled in me by Repletion (and above all things, I hate that foolish coupling of so healthful and sprightly a Goddess with that little belching God, bloated with the fume of his Liquor) or to cure my sick Stomach, and for want of fit Company. For I say as the same Epicurus did, that a man is not so much to regard what he eats, as with whom; And commend Chilo, that he would not engage himself to be at Periander's Feast, till he first was informed who were to be the other Guests. No Dish is so acceptable to me, nor no Sauce so alluring, as that which is extracted from Society. I think it to be more wholesome to eat more liesurely and less, and to eat ofter: but I will have the value of Appetite and Hunger enhanced. I should take no pleasure to be fed with three or four pitiful and stinted Repasts a day, after a Physical manner. Who will assure me, that if I have a good Appetite in the morning, I shall have the same at Supper: But especially, let us old Fellows take the first opportune time of eating, and leave to Almanac-makers the hopes and Prognostics. The utmost fruit of my health is pleasure; let us take hold of the present and known. I avoid constancy in these Laws of Fasting. Who will that one Form shall serve him, let him evade the continuing of it; We harden ourselves in it, our Forces are there stupefied and laid asleep: six months after you shall find your Stomach so enured unto it, that all you have got is only the loss of your liberty of doing otherwise, but to your prejudice. I never keep my Legs and Thighs warmer in Winter than in Summer, one single pair of Silk-stockings is all: I have suffered myself for the relief of my Rheums to keep my Head warmer; and my Belly upon the account of my Colic: my Diseases in a few days habituated themselves, and disdained my ordinary Provisions. I was presently got from a single Cap to a Napkin, and from a Napkin to a quilted Cap. The belly-pieces of my Doublet serve only for decency, they signify nothing, if I do not add a Hares-skin or a Stomacher, and wear a Callot upon my Head. Follow this gradation, and you will go a very fine way to work. I am resolved to proceed no further, and would leave off those too, if I durst. If you fall into any new inconvenience all this is labour lost; you are accustomed to it; seek out some other way: thus do such ruin and destroy themselves, who submit to be pestered with these enforced and superstitious Rules; they must add something more, and something more after that, there is no end on't. For what concerns our Affairs and Pleasures, it is much more commodious; as the Ancients did, to lose a man's Dinner, and defer making good cheer, till the hour of retirement and repose, without breaking a day; and so was I formerly used to do. For health, I since by experience find on the contrary, that it is better to dine, and that the digestion is better made waking. I am not very apt to be thirsty, either well or sick, my Mouth is indeed apt to be dry, but without thirst; and commonly I never drink but with thirst that is created by eating, and then I drink as hard as any. I drink pretty well for a man of my pitch: In Summer, and at a hungry meal, I do not only exceed the limits of Augustus, that drank but thrice precisely; but not to offend Democrates his Rule, who forbade that men should stop at four times, as an unlucky number; I proceed for need to the fifth glass, about three half pints. For the little glasses are my favourites; and I take a delight to drink them off, which other People avoid as an indecent thing. I mix my Wine sometimes with half, sometimes the third part Water. And when I am at home, by an ancient custom that my Father's Physician prescribed both to him and himself, they mix that which is designed for me in the Buttery three or four hours before 'tis brought in. 'Tis said, that Cranaus King of Athens was the inventor of this Custom of dashing Wine with Water; whether profitable or no, I have heard disputed. I think it more decent and wholesome for Children to drink no Wine till after sixteen or eighteen years of age. The most usual and common method of living is the most becoming: all particularity in my opinion is to be avoided, and I should as much hate a German that mixed Water with his Wine, as I should do a Frenchman that drank it pure. Public Usance gives the Law in those things. I fear a Fog, and fly from Smoke, as from the Plague, (the first repairs I fell upon in my own house were the Chimneys and Houses of Office, the common and insupportable nuisances of all old Buildings) and amongst the difficulties of War, reckon the choking dust they make us ride in a whole day together. I have a free and easy respiration, and my Colds for the most part go off without offence to the Lungs, and without a Cough. The heat of Summer is more an enemy to me than the cold of Winter; for, besides the incommodity of Heat, less remediable than Cold, and besides the force of the Sunbeams that strike upon the Head, all glittering light offends my eyes, so that I could not now sit at dinner over against a flaming Fire. To dull the whiteness of Paper, in those times when I was more wont to read, I laid a piece of glass upon my Book, and found my Eyes much relieved by it. I am to this hour ignorant of the use of Spectacles, and can see as far as ever I did, or any other. 'Tis true, that in the Evening I begin to find a little trouble and weakness in my Sight, if I read; an exercise that I have always found troublesome, especially by Night. Here is one step back, and a very sensible one; I shall retire another, from the second to the third, and so to the fourth, so gently, that I shall be stark blind before I shall be sensible of the age and decay of my sight: so artificially do the fatal Sisters untwist our Lives. And yet I doubt that my Hearing begins to grow thick, and you shall see I shall have half lost it, when I shall still lay the fault on the Voices of those that speak to me. A man must screw up his Soul to a high pitch, to make it sensible how it ebbs away. My walking is quick and firm, and I know not which of the two, my Mind, or my Body, I have most to do to keep in the same state. That Preacher is very much my Friend, that can oblige my Attention a whole Sermon through. In places of Ceremony, where every one's Countenance is so starched, where I have seen the Ladies keep even their Eyes so fixed; I could never order it so, that some part or other of me did not lash out; so that though I was set, I was never settled: As the Philosopher Chrysippus his Chambermaid said of her Master, 
Chrysippus drunk in his Legs.  that he was only drunk in his Legs, for it was his Custom to be always kicking his Legs about in what place soever he sat; and she said it at a time when the Wine having made all his Companions drunk, he found no alteration in himself at all. The same may also be said of me from my Infancy, that I have either folly or quicksilver in my feet, so much stirring and unsettledness there is in them wherever they are placed. 'Tis indecent, besides the hurt it does to one's Health, and even to the pleasure of eating, to eat so greedily as I do; I oft bite my Tongue, and sometimes my Fingers for haste, 
Greedy eating reproved by Diogenes.  Diogenes meeting a Boy eating after that manner, gave his Tutor a box o'th' Ear. There were men at Rome that taught People to chew, 
Eating Schools at Rome.  as well as to walk with a good Grace. I lose the leisure of speaking, that gives the best relish to Tables, provided the Discourse be suitable that is pleasant and short. There is Jealousy and Envy amongst our Pleasures, they cross and hinder one another. Alcibiades, a man very well read in making good cheer, 
Music banished from Tables by Alcibiades, and why.  banished even Music from Tables, that they might not disturb the entertainment of Discourse, by the Reason he had from Plato, that it is the Custom of popular men to call Fiddlers and Singing-men to Feasts, for want of good Discourse; and pleasant talk, with which men of Understanding know how to entertain one another. Varro requires all this in great Entertainments, Persons of graceful Presence, and agreeable Conversation, that are neither silent nor babblers; Neatness and Delicacy both of Meat and Place, and fair Wether. A good Treat is neither slightly artificial, nor a little voluptuous; neither the greatest Captains, nor the greatest Philosophers have disdained either the Use or Science of eating well, My Imagination has delivered three of them to the Custody of my Memory, which Fortune rendered sovereignly sweet to me upon several occasions in my most flourishing Age. My present state excludes me. For every one, according to the good temper of Body and Mind wherein he than finds himself, does from thence make out to his own use a particular grace and liking; but I, who but crawl upon the Earth, hate this inhuman Wisdom, that will have us despise and hate all culture of the Body. I look upon it as an equal Injustice to loathe natural Pleasures, as to be too much in love with them. Xerxes was a Fop, who, environed with all humane Delights, proposed a reward to him that could find him out others; but he is not much less so, who cuts off any of those Pleasures that Nature has provided for him. A man should neither pursue nor fly, but receive them. I receive them I confess a little too affectionately and kindly, and easily suffer myself to follow my natural Propension. We have nothing to do to exaggerate their inanity, they themselves will make us sufficiently sensible of it. Thanks be to our sick Minds that abate our Joys, and put them out of taste with them, as with themselves. They entertain both themselves and all they receive, one while better, and another worse, according to their insatiable, vagabond, and versatile Essence. 

Sincerum est nisi vas, 
Hor. l. 1. Ode. 2.  quodcunque infundis acescit.   

Unless the Vessel you would use be sweet  
'Twill sour whate'er you shall put into it.   ay, who boast that I so curiously and particularly embrace the conveniences of Life, do find, when I most nearly consider them, but very little more than Wind. But what? We are all Wind throughout, and moreover the Wind itself loves to bluster and shift from corner to corner more discreetly than we, and contents itself with its proper Offices, without desiring stability and solidity, Qualities that nothing belong to it. The pure Pleasures, as well as the pure Displeasures of the Imagination, say some, are the greatest, as was expressed by the balance of Critolaus. 'Tis no wonder. It makes them to its own liking, and cuts them out of the whole Cloth. Of which I every day see notable Examples, and peradventure to be desired. But I, who am of a mixed and heavy Condition, cannot snap so soon at this one simple Object, but that I negligently suffer myself to be carried away with the present Pleasures of the general humane Law. Intellectually sensible, and sensibly intellectual. The Cyrenick Philosophers will have it, that as corporal Pains, so corporal Pleasures are more powerful, both as double, and as more just. There are some, as Aristotle says, who out of a savage kind of Stupidity, pretend to disgust them: and I know others, who out of Ambition do the same. Why do they not moreover forswear breathing? Why do they not live of their own, and refuse Light because it shines gratis, and costs them neither pains nor invention? Let Mars, Pallas, or Mercury, afford them their light by which to see, instead of Venus, Ceres, and Bacchus. Will they not seek the Quadrature of the Circle, even when mounted upon their Wives? I hate, that we should be enjoined to have our minds in the Clouds, when our bodies are at Table; I will have the mind there nailed, not that it should wallow there, but I am willing it should apply itself to that place, to sit, but not to lie down there. Aristippus maintained nothing but the Body, as if we had no Soul; Zeno stickled only for the Soul, as if we had no Body. Both of them faultily. Pythagoras, say they, followed a Philosophy that was all Contemplation; Socrates, one that was all Manners and Action. Plato found out a mean betwixt both; but they only say so for Discourse sake, for the true mean is found in Socrates; and Plato is more Socratic than Pythagorick, and it becomes him better. When I dance, I dance, when I sleep, I sleep. Nay, and when I walk alone in a beautiful Orchard, if my Thoughts are some part of the time taken up with strange Occurrences, I some part of the time call them back again to my walk, to the Orchard, to the sweetness of the Solitude, and to myself. Nature has with a Motherly tenderness observed this, that the actions she has enjoined us for our necessity, should be also pleasant to us, and invites us to them, not only by Reason, but also by Appetite: and 'tis injustice to infringe her Laws. When I see both Caesar and Alexander in the thickest of their greatest business, so fully enjoy humane and corporal Pleasures, I do not say that they slackened their Souls, but wound them up higher by Vigour of Courage, subjecting these violent Employments and laborious Thoughts to the ordinary usance of Life. Wise, 〈◊〉 they believed, that the last was their ordinary Employment, the first, their extraordinary Vocation. We are great fools. He has passed over his Life in ease, say we: I have done nothing yet that is new. What? have you not lived till now? 'Tis not only the fundamental, but the most illustrious of all your Occupations. Had I been put to the management of great Affairs; I should have made it seen what I could do. Have you known how to meditate, and manage your Life; you have performed the greatest work of all. For a man to show, and set out himself, Nature has no need of Fortune, she equally shows herself in all degrees, and behind a Curtain, as well as without one. Have you known how to compose your Manners? you have done a great deal more than he who has composed Books. Have you known how to take repose? you have done more than he who has taken Cities and Empires. The glorious Masterpiece of man is, to know how to live to purpose; all other things, to reign, to lay up treasure, and to build, are at the most but little Appendices, and little Props. I take a delight to see a General of an Army at the foot of a Breach he intends presently to Assault, give himself up entire and free at dinner, to talk and be merry with his Friends. And Brutus, when Heaven and Earth were conspired against him and the Roman Liberty, to steal some hour of the Night from his Rounds, to read and abridge Polybius in all security 〈◊〉 is for little Souls, that truckle under the weight of Affairs, not to know how clearly to disengage themselves, and not to know how to lay them aside, and take them up again. 


Hor. lib. 1. Ode 7.  O forts, pejoraque passi  
Mecum saepe viri, nunc vino pellite curas,  
Cras ingens interabimus aequor.   


Sir Thomas Hawkins.  Brave Spirits, who with me have suffered sorrow,  
Drink cares away, we'll set up sails to morrow.   Whether it be in jest or earnest, that the Theological and Sorbonical Wine, and their Feasts are turned into a Proverb; I find it Reason, they should dine so much more commodiously and pleasantly, as they have profitably and seriously employed the morning in the exercise of their Schools. The Conscience of having well spent the other hours, is the just and savoury sauce of Tables. The Sages lived after that manner, and that inimitable emulation to Virtue, which astonishes us both in the one and the other Cato; so did that humour of theirs, severe even to importunity, gently submit itself, and yield to the Laws of the humane Condition, both of Venus and Bacchus; according to the Precepts of their Sect, that require a perfect wise man, should be as expert and intelligent in the use of Pleasures, as in all other duties of Life. 
Cicero de fin. l. 2.  Cui cor sapiat ei & sapiat palatus. He that has a learned Soul, has a learned Palate too. Yielding and facility, do, methinks, wonderfully honour, and best become a strong and generous Soul. Epaminondas did not think, that to dance, sing, play, and be intent upon them, with the young men of his City, were things that did any way derogate from the honour of his glorious Victories, and the perfect reformation of Manners that was in him. And amongst so many admirable actions of Scipio, the Grandfather, a Person worthy the Opinion of a heavenly Extraction; there is nothing that gives him a greater Grace than to see him carelessly and childishly trifling, in gathering and choosing Shells, and playing at Coits upon the Seashore with his friend Laelius: and, if it was foul weather, amusing and pleasing himself in representing in Comedies, by writing the meanest and most popular actions of men: And having his head full of that wonderful enterprise of Hannibal and Africa, visiting the Schools, and being continually present at the Philosophical Lectures, improving himself even to the envy of his Enemies at Rome. Nor is there any thing more remarkable in Socrates, than that, old as he was, he found time to make himself be instructed in dancing and playing upon Instruments, and thought it time well spent; who nevertheless has been seen in an Exstacy standing upon his feet a whole day and a night together in the presence of all the Grecian Army, surprised and ravished with some profound Thought. He was the first, who amongst so many valiant men of the Army, ran to the relief of Alcibiades, oppressed with the Enemy, that shielded him with his own Body, and disengaged him from the Crowd, by absolute force of Arms. It was he who in the Delian Battle relieved and saved Xenophon, when dismounted from his Horse; and who, amongst all the People of Athens, enraged as he, at so unworthy a Spectacle, first presented himself to rescue Theramenes, whom the thirty Tyrants were haling to Execution by their Guards, and desisted not from his bold Enterprise, but at the remonstrance of Theramenes himself, though he was only followed by two more in all. He has been seen, when courted by a Beauty with which he was in love, yet maintain a severe abstinence in time of need. He has been seen continually to go to the War, and with his bare feet to trample upon the Ice; to wear the same Robe Winter and Summer, to surpass all his Companions in Patience of suffering, and to eat no more at a Feast, than at his own private Dinner. He was seen seven and twenty years together to endure Hunger, Poverty, the Indocility of his Children, and the Talons of his Wife, with the same Countenance; and in the end Calumny, Tyranny, Imprisonment, Fetters, and Poison. But was that man obliged to drink to him by any Rule of Civility? He was also the man of the Army to whom the advantage remained. And he never refused to play at Cob-nut, nor to ride the Hoby-horse with the Boys, and it became him well; for all Actions, says Philosophy, equally become, and equally honour a wise man. We have enough wherewithal to do it, and we ought never to be weary of representing the Image of this great man in all the patterns and forms of Perfection. There are very few Examples of Life full and pure, and we wrong our Instruction every day, to propose to ourselves those that are weak and imperfect, scarce good for any one service, that pull us back, and that are rather Corrupters than Correctors of Manners. The People deceive themselves; a man goes much more easily indeed by the ends, where the extremity serve for a bound, a stop, and guide, than by the middle way, which is large and open, and according to Art, than according to Nature; but withal, much less nobly and commendably. The grandeur of Soul consists not so much in mounting and in proceeding forward, as in knowing how to govern and circumscribe itself. It takes every thing for great, that is enough; and demonstrates itself better in moderate, than eminent things. There is nothing so handsome and lawful, as well and duly to play the man; nor Science so hard as well to know how to live this Life, and of all the Infirmities we have, 'tis the most savage to despise our Being. Whoever has a mind to send his Soul abroad, when the Body is ill at ease, to preserve it from the Contagion, let him do it if he can: but, in all other things, let him on the contrary, favour and assist it, and not refuse to participate of its natural Pleasures and Delights with a Conjugal Complacency: bringing to it withal, if it be a wiser Soul, Moderation, lest by Indiscretion they should confound them with Displeasures. Intemperance is the best of Pleasure, and Temperance is not its Scourge, but rather its seasoning. Eudoxus, who therein established the sovereign good, and his Companions, who set so high a value upon it, tasted it with a more charming sweetness by the means of Temperance, which in them was most singular and exemplary. I enjoin my Soul to look upon Pain and Pleasure with an Eye equally regular; 
Cicero. Thus. l. 4.  Eadem enim Vitio est effusto animi in laetitia, quo in dolore contractio: For 'tis by the same Vice that we dilate ourselves in Mirth, and contract them in Sorrow: and equally firm; but the one gaily, and the other severely, and, according to what it is able, to be as careful to extinguish the one as to extend the other. The judging rightly of Goods, brings along with it the judging sound of Evils. Both Pain has something not to be avoided in its tender beginnings, and Pleasure has something that may be avoided in its excessive end. Plato couples them together, and will that it should be equally the Office of Fortitude to fight against Pain, and against the immoderate and charming blandishments of Pleasure. They are two Fountains, from which whoever draws, when and as much as he needs, whether City, Man, or Beast, is very happy. The first is to be taken physically, and upon necessity more scarcely; the other for thirst, but not to drunkenness. Pain, Pleasure, Love and Hatred are the first things that a Child is sensible of; if when his Reason comes to him, he apply himself to it, that is Virtue. I have a peculiar method of my own, I squander away my time when it is ill and uneasy; but when 'tis good I will not squander it away. I run it over again, and stick to't; a man must run over the ill, and insist upon the good. This ordinary Phrase of past-time, and passing away the time, represents the usance of those wise sort of People, who think they cannot have a better account of their Lives, than to let them run out and slide away, to pass them over, and to balk them, and, as much as they can, to take no notice of them, and to shun them, as a thing of troublesome and contemptible Quality: but I know it to be another kind of thing, and find it both valuable and commodious, even in its latest decay, wherein I now enjoy it: and Nature has delivered it into our hands in such and so favourable Circumstances, that we commonly complain of ourselves if it be troublesome to us, or slide unprofitably away. 
Seneca. Epist. 15.  Stulti Vita ingrata est, trepida est, tota in futurum fertur. The Life of a Fool is uneasy, timorous, and wholly bend upon the future. Nevertheless, I compose myself to lose mine without regret, but withal, as a thing that is loseable by its Condition, not that it troubles or importunes me. Neither does it properly well become any, not to be displeased when they die, excepting such as are pleased to live. There is good husbandry in enjoying it. I enjoy it double to what others do; for the measure in Fruition depends more or less upon our application to it. Now especially that I perceive mine to be so short in time, I will extend it in weight; I will stop the suddenness of its flight, by the suddenness of my seizing upon it: and by the vigour of using it, recompense the speed of its running away. By how much the possession of living is more short, I must make it so much deeper and more full. Others are sensible of Contentment, and of Prosperity, I feel it too, as well as they, but not only as it slides and passes by; and also a man ought to study, taste, and ruminate upon it, to render condign thanks to him that grants it to us. They enjoy the other Pleasures as they do that of sleep, without knowing it; to the end, that even sleep itself should not so stupidly escape from me, I have formerly caused myself to be disturbed in my sleep, to the end that I might the better and more sensibly relish and taste it. I consult with myself of a contentment; I do not skin, but sound it, and bend my Reason, now grown perverse and ill humoured, to entertain it. Do I find myself in any calm composedness? is there any Pleasure that tickles me? I do not suffer it to dally with my Senses only, I associate my Soul to it too: not there to engage itself, but therein to take delight; not there to lose itself, but to be present there; and employ it on its part, to view itself in this prosperous Estate, to weigh, esteem, and amplify the good hap. It reckons how much it stands indebted to Almighty God that it is in repose of Conscience, and other intestine Passions, to have the Body in a natural disposedness, orderly, and competently enjoying the soft and flattering functions, by which he of his bounty is pleased to recompense the sufferings wherewith his Justice at his good Pleasure does scourge and chastise us. How great a benefit is it to man to have his Soul so seated, that which way soever she turns her Eye the Heaven is calm and serene about her? No Desire, no Fear or Doubt, that troubles the Air, nor any Difficulty past, present, or to come, that his Imagination may not pass over without Offence. This Consideration takes great lustre from the comparison of different Conditions, and therefore it is, that I propose to myself in a thousand faces, those whom Fortune or their own Error torment and carry away; and moreover those, who more like to me, so negligently and incuriously receive their good Fortune. They are men who pass away their time indeed, they run over the present, and that which they possess, to give themselves up to hope, and for vain Shadows and Images which fancy puts into their Heads; 


Aenid. lib. 10.  Morte obita quales fama est volitare figuras,  
Aut quae sopitos deludunt somnia sensus.   


Mr. Ogilby.  Such shapes they say that dead men's Spirits have,  
Or those in Dreams our drowsy Sense deceive.   which hasten and prolong their flight, according as they are pursued. The fruit and end of their pursuit is to pursue; as Alexander said, that the end of his labour was to labour. 

Nil actum credens cum quid superesset agendum. 
Lucan. l. 2.    

Thinking nought done, if aught was left to do.   For my part then I love Life, and cultivate it, such as it hath pleased God to bestow it upon us; I do not desire it should be without the necessity of eating and drinking; and I should think to offend no less excusably to wish it had been double. 
Seneca. Epist. 119.  Sapiens divitiarum naturalium quaesitor acerrimus. A wise man is an avaricious gaper after natural riches. Nor that we should support ourselves by putting only a little of that Drug into our Mouths, by which Epimenides took away his Appetite, and kept himself alive. Nor that a man should stupidly beget Children, with his Fingers or heels, but rather, with reverence I speak it, that we might voluptuously beget them with our Fingers and heels. Nor that the Body should be without desire, and void of delight. These are ungrateful and wicked complaints. I accept kindly, and with acknowledgement, what Nature has done for me; am well pleased with it, and proud of it. A man does wrong to the Great and Potent Giver of all things, to refuse, disannul, or disfigure his Gift; He has made every thing well. Omnia quae secundum Naturam sunt aestimatione digna sunt. 
Cicero.  All things that are according to Nature are worthy of esteem. Of Philosophical Opinions, I more willingly embrace those that are most solid; that is to say, the most humane, and most our own: my Discourse is, suitably to my manners, low and humble: I then bring forth a Child to my own liking, when it puts itself upon its Ergoes, to prove that 'tis a barbarous alliance to marry the Divine with the Earthly, the Reasonable with the Unreasonable, the Severe with the Indulgent, and the Honest with the Dishonest. That Pleasure is a brutish quality, unworthy to be tasted by a wise man. That the sole Pleasure that he extracts from the enjoyment of a fair young Wife, is a pleasure of his Conscience, to perform an action according to order; as to put on his Boots for a profitable Journey. Oh, that his followers had no more right, nor nerves, nor juice, in getting their Wife's Maidenheads, than in his Lessons. 'Tis not what Socrates says, who is both his Master and ours. He values as he ought Bodily pleasure, but he prefers that of the Soul, as having more force, constancy, facility, variety and dignity. This, according to him, goes by no means alone, he is not so fantastic, but only it goes first. Temperance in him is the Moderatrix, not the Adversary of his Pleasures. Nature is a gentle guide, but not more sweet and gentle than prudent and just. 
Cicero de fin. l. 5.  Intrandum est in rerum naturam & penitus quid ea postulet, per videndum. A man must search into the Nature of things, and examine what she requires. I hunt after her foot throughout, but we have confounded it with artificial Truces. And that Academic and Peripatetic good, which is to live according to it, becomes by this means hard to limit and explain. And that of the Stoics, Cousin-German to it, which is to consent to Nature. Is it not an error to esteem any Actions less worthy, because they are Necessary? And yet they cannot beat it out of my Head, that it is not a convenient marriage of Pleasure with Necessity, to which, says an Ancient, the Gods do always consent. To what end do we dismember by Divorce, a building united by so mutual and brotherly a Correspondence? Let us, on the contrary, repair and corroborate it by mutual Offices, let the Mind rouse and quiken the heaviness of the Body, and the Body stop and fix the levity of the Soul. 
Aug. verb. Apost. ser. 13. lib. 6.  Qui velut summum bonum laudat Animae Naturam, & tanquam malum, Naturam Carnis accusat, profecto & Animam carnaliter appetit, & Carnem carnaliter fugit, quoniam id Vanitate sentit humana, non veritale Divina. Who commends the Nature of the Soul as the supreme good, and accuses the Nature of the Flesh as evil, does certainly both carnally affect the Soul, and carnally flies the flesh, because he is so possessed through humane vanity, and not by Divine truth. In this Present that God has made us, there is nothing unworthy our care; we stand accountable even to an hair. And 'tis no slight Commission to man, to conduct man according to his condition. 'Tis express, plain, and the principal injunction of all, and the Creator has seriously and strictly enjoined it. Authority has alone the power to work upon common Understandings, and is of more weight in a Foreign Language, and therefore let us again charge it in this place. Stultitia proprium quis non dixerit ignave, & contumaciter facere quae facienda sunt; & alio corpus impellere, alio animum, distrahique inter diversissimos motus? Who will not say, that it is the property of folly, slothfully and contumaciously to perform what is to be done, and to bend the Body one way and the Mind another, and to be distracted betwixt most different motions? Which to make apparent, makes any one another day tell you what whimsies and imaginations he put into his own pate, and upon the account of which he diverted his thoughts from a good meal, and complains of the time he spends in eating: you will find there is nothing so insipid in all the Dishes at your Table, as this wise meditation of his (for the most part we had better sleep than wake to the purpose we do) and that his Discourses and Notions are not worth the worst Mess there: Though they were the Raptures of Archimedes himself, what were they worth? I do not here speak of, nor mix with the rabble of us ordinary men, and the vanity of the thoughts and desires that divert us, those venerable Souls, elevated by the ardour of Devotion and Religion, to a constant and conscientious meditation of Divine things, who, by a lively endeavour and vehement hope, prepossessing the use of the eternal nourishment, the final aim and last step of Christian desires, the sole, constant, and incorruptible pleasure, disdain to apply themselves to our necessitous, fluid, and ambiguous conveniences, and easily resign to the Body the care and use of sensual and temperate feeding. 'Tis a privileged study. I have ever amongst us observed, supercelestial opinions, and subterranean manners, to be of singular accord. Aesop, that great man, saw his Master piss as he walked: What, said he, must we then dung as we run? Let us manage our time as well as we can, there will yet remain a great deal that will be idle and ill employed. As if the Mind had not other hours enough wherein to do its business, without disassociating itself from the Body, in that little space it needs for its necessity. They will put themselves out of themselves, and escape from being men. 'Tis folly, instead of transforming themselves into Angels, they transform themselves into Beasts, and instead of elevating, lay themselves lower. These transcendent Humours affright me, like high and inaccessible Cliffs and Precipices: And nothing is hard for me to digest in the Life of Socrates, but his Ecstasies, and communication with Devils. Nothing so Humane in Plato, as that for which they say he was called Divine. And of our Sciences, those seem to be the most terrestrial and low that are highest mounted. And I find nothing so humble and mortal in the Life of Alexander, as his fancies about immortalization. Philotus pleasantly quipt him in his answer. He congratulated him by Letter concerning the Oracle of Jupiter Hammon, who had placed him amongst the Gods; Upon thy account, I am glad of it, said he, but the men are to be lamented, who are to live with a man, and to obey him, who exceeds, and is not contented with the measure of a man. Diis te minorem quod geris, imperas. Because thou carriest thyself lower than the Gods, thou dost rule and command. The quaint Inscription wherewith the Athenians honoured the entry of Pompey into their City, is conformable to my sense: 

D'autant es tu Dieu, comme  
Tu te recognois homme.   

By so much thou a God appear'st to be,  
By how much thou a man confessest thee.   'Tis an absolute, and as it were, a Divine Perfection, for a man to know how loyally to enjoy his Being: We seek other conditions, by reason we do not understand the use of our own; and go out of ourselves, because we know not how there to reside. 'Tis to much purpose to go upon stilts, for when upon stilts, we must yet walk upon our Legs; And when seated upon the most elevated Throne in the World, we are but seated upon our Breech. The fairest Lives, in my opinion, are those which regularly accommodate themselves to the common and humane model; but without miracle, and without extravagance. But old Age stands a little in need of a more gentle Treatment. Let us recommend it to God, the Protector of Health and Wisdom, but withal, let us be gay and sociable: 

Frui paratis & valido mihi  
Latoë dones, & precor integra  
Cum ment, nec turpem senectam  
Degere, nec Cythara carentem.   

Latona's Son,  
In Mind, 
Sir Richard Fanshaw.  and Body's health my own  
T'enjoy; old Age from dotage free,  
And solaced with the Lute, give me.     
The end of the Third and last Book of montaigne's Essays.