JOANNES FLORIUS AUGUSTAE ANNAE ANGL: SCOT: FRANC: ET HIB: REGINAE PRAELECTOR LING: ITALICAE CHI SI CONTENTA GOOD portrait of John Florio AET: 58. A.D. 1611 In virtute suâ contentus, nobilis arte, Italus over, Anglus pectore, uterque opere Floret adhuc. et adhuc florebit: floreat ultra FLORIUS, hâc specie floridus, optat amans. Gul: Hole sculp: Tam foelix utinam. ESSAYS WRITTEN IN French By MICHAEL Lord of Montaigne, Knight of the Order of S. Michael, Gentleman of the French Kings Chamber: DONE INTO ENGLISH, according to the last French edition, by JOHN FLORIO Reader of the Italian tongue unto the Sovereign Majesty of ANNA, Queen of England, Scotland, France and Ireland, etc. And one of the Gentlemen of her Royal Privy chamber. LONDON: Printed by MELCH. BRADWOOD for EDWARD BLOUNT and WILLIAM BARRET. TO THE MOST ROYAL AND RENOWNED MAJESTY of the High-born Princess ANNA of DENMARK, by the Grace of God QUEEN of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, etc. Imperial and Incomparable Majesty, SEeing with me, all of me, is in your Royal possession, and whatsoever pieces of mine have heretofore, under other stars passed the public view, come now of right to be under the predomination of a Power, that both contain's all their perfections, and hath influences of a more sublime nature, I could not but also take in this part (whereof time had worn-out the edition) which the world hath long since had of mine, and lay it at your Sacred feet, as a memorial of my devoted duty, and to show that where I am, I must be all I am, and can not stand dispersed in my observance, being wholly (and therein happy) Your sacred MAJESTIES most humble and loyal servant JOHN FLORIO. ALL' AUGUSTA MAESTA DI ANNA, Seren. ma▪ REGINA d' Inghilterra, di Scotia, di Francia, & d' Irlanda, etc. C He si può dir di VOI, somma REGINA, Che non sia detto delle più lodate Di Magnanimità, Virtù, Beltate, Incomparabile, Sopra-divina? Anzi, i style tanto si raffina, Che non sia vinto dalla Maestate, L' Altezza, la Chiarezza, la Bontate, Alla qual' ogni cuor di-cuor s' inchina? La qual di tutti honori'l specchio mostra, La qual' il pregio Sour a tutte tiene; ANNA, l' anello della Gioia nostra. La nostra sicurtà, la nostra spene; VIEN dal ' ECCELSO LA GRANDEZZA vostra; Dalla GRANDEZZA vostra'l nostro bene. Il Candido TO THE READER. ENough, if not too much, hath been said of this Translation. If the faults found even by myself in the first impression, be now by the Printer corrected, as he was directed, the work is much amended: If not, know, that through mine attendance on her Majesty, I could not intendit; and blame not Neptune for thy second shipwreck. Let me conclude with this worthy man's daughter of alliance: Que t'en semble donc lecteur? Still resolute JOHN FLORIO. To my dear brother and friend M. JOHN FLORIO, one of the Gentlemen of her majesties most Royal Privy Chamber. BOoks, like superfluous humours bred with ease, So stuff the world, as it becomes oppressed With taking more than it can well digest; And now are turned to be a great disease. For by this over charging we confound The appetite of skill they had before: There being no end of words, nor any bound Set to conceit the Ocean without shore. As if man laboured with himself to be As infinite in writing, as intents; And draw his manifold uncertainty In any shape that passion represents: That these innumerable images And figures of opinion and discourse Drawn out in leaves, may be the witnesses Of our defects much rather than our force. And this proud frame of our presumption, This Babel of our skill, this Tower of wit, Seems only checked with the confusion Of our mistake that dissolveth it. And well may make us of our knowledge doubt, Seeing what uncertainties we build upon, To be as weak within book as without; Or else that truth hath other shapes then one. But yet although we labour with this store And with the press of writings seem oppressed, And have to many books, yet want we more, Feeling great dearth and scarceness of the bell; Which cast in choicer shapes have been produced, To give the best proportions to the mind Of our confusion, and have introduced The likeliest images frailty can find. And wherein most the skill-desiring soul Takes her delight, the best of all delight, And where her motions evenest come to roll About this doubtful centre of the right. Which to discover this great Potentate, This Prince Montaigne (if he be not more) Hath more adventured of his own estate Then ever man did of himself before: And hath made such bold sallies out upon Custom, the mighty tyrant of the earth, In whose Seraglio of subjection We all seem bred-up, from our tender birth; As I admire his powers, and out of love, Here at his gate do stand, and glad I stand So near to him whom I do so much love, T'applaude his happy settling in our land: And safe transpassage by his studious care Who both of him and us doth merit much, Having as sumptuously, as he is rare Placed him in the best lodging of our speech. And made him now as free, as if borne here, And as well ours as theirs, who may be proud That he is theirs, though he be every where To have the franchise of his worth allowed. It being the proportion of a happy Pen, Not to b'invassaled to one Monarchy, But dwell with all the better world of men Whose spirits all are of one community, Whom neither Ocean, Deserts, Rocks nor Sands Can keep from th'intertraffic of the mind, But that it vents her treasure in all lands, And doth a most secure commercement find. Wrap Excellency up never so much, In Hierogliphicques, cyphers, Characters, And let her speak never so strange a speech, Her Genius yet finds apt discipherers: And never was she borne to die obscure, But guided by the stars of her own grace, Makes her own fortune, and is ever sure In man's best hold, to hold the strongest place. And let the Critic say the worst he can, He cannot say but that Montaigne yet, Yields most rich pieces and extracts of man; Though in a troubled frame confusedly set. Which yet he's blest that he hath ever seen, And therefore as a guest in gratefulness, For the great good the house yields him within Might spare to tax th'unapt convayances. But this breath hurts not, for both work and frame, Whilst England English speaks, is of that store And that choice stuff, as that without the same The richest library can be but poor. And they unblessed who letters do profess And have him not: whose own fate beats their want With more sound blows, than Alcibiades Did his Pedante that did Homer want. By SAM. DANIEL one of the Gentlemen extraordinary of her majesties most royal privy Chamber. Concerning the honour of books. SInce Honour from the Honourer proceeds. How well do they deserve that memory And leave in books for all posterities The names of worthies, and their virtuous deeds When all their glory else, like water weeds Without their element, presently dies, And all their greatness quite forgotten lies: And when, and how they flourished no man heeds How poor remembrances, are statutes Toomes And other monuments that men erect To Princes, which remain in closed rooms Where but a few behold them; in respect Of Books, that to the universal eye Show how they lived, the other where they lie. A Table of the Chapters of the First Book. 1 BY divers means men come to a like end. 1 2 Of sadness or sorrow. 3 3 Our affections are transported beyond ourselves. 5 4 How the soul dischargeth her passions upon false objects, when the true fail it. 9 5 Whether the captain of a place besieged aught to sallic forth to parley. 10 6 That the hours of parleys are dangerous. 12 7 That our intention judgeth our actions. 13 8 Of idleness. 14 9 Of liars. 15 10 Of ready or slow speech. 18 11 Of Prognostications. 19 12 Of Constancy. 21 13 Of ceremonies in the interview of Kings. 23 14 Men are punished by toomuch opiniating theselves in a place without reason. 23 15 Of the punishment of cowardice. 24 16 A trioke of certain Ambassadors. 25 17 Of Fear. 27 18 That we should not judge of our happiness, until after our death. 28 19 That to Philosophise, is to learn how to die. 30 20 Of the force of imagination. 39 21 The profit of one man is the damage of another. 46 22 Of Custom, and how a received Law should not easily be changed. 46 23 Divers events from one self same counsel. 55 24 Of Pedantisme. 60 25 Of the institution and education of children: to the Lady Diana of Foix. 67 26 It is folly to refer Truth or Falsehood to our sufficiency. 87 27 Of friendship. 89 28 Nine & twenty sonnets of Steven de Boetie, to the Lady of Grammont. 97 29 Of moderation. 97 30 Of the Cannibals. 100 31 That a man ought soberly to meddle with ●●dging of divine laws. 107 32 To avoid voluptuousness in regard of life. 108 33 That fortune is often times met withal in pursuit of reason. 109 34 Of a defect in our policies. 111 35 Of the use of apparel. 111 36 Of Cato the younger. 113 37 How we weep and laugh at one selfsame thing. 116 38 Of solitariness. 118 39 A consideration upon Cicero. 124 40 That the taste of goods or evils doth greatly depend on the opinion we have of them. 127 41 That a man should not communicate his glory. 137 42 Of the inequality that is between us. 139 43 Of sumptuary laws, or laws for moderating of expenses. 145 44 Of sleeping. 146 45 Of the battle of Dreux. 148 46 Of names. 148 47 Of the uncertainty of our i●gement. 151 48 Of steeds, called in French, Defiriers. 155 49 Of ancient customs. 160 50 Of Democritus and Herachtus. 163 51 Of the vanity of words. 165 52 Of the parsimony of our forefathers. 167 53 Of a saying of Caesar. 168 54 Of vain subtleties, or subtle devices. 169 55 Of smells and odours. 170 56 Of prayers and orisons. 172 57 Of age. 177 A Table of the Chapters of the Second Book. 1 OF the inconstancy of our actions. 183 2 Of Drunkenness. 187 3 A Custom of the I'll of Cea. 193 4 Tomorrow is a new day. 200 5 Of Conscience. 202 6 Of exercise or practise. 204 7 Of the recompenses or rewards of honour. 210 8 Of the affection of fathers to their children. 212 9 〈…〉 213 10 〈…〉 〈…〉 11 Of Cruelty. 233 12 An Apology of Raymond Sebond. 242 13 Of judging of others death. 342 14 How that our spirit hindereth itself. 345 15 That our desires are increased by difficulty. 346 16 Of Glory. 349 17 Of Presumption. 357 18 Of giving the Lie. 374 19 〈…〉 376 20 〈…〉 〈…〉 21 Against idleness, or doing nothing. 380 22 Of running Posts, or Curriers. 382 23 Of bad means employed to a good end. 383 24 Of the Roman greatness. 385 25 How a man should not counterfeit to be sick. 386 26 Of Thumbs. 387 27 Cowardice the mother of cruelty. 388 28 All things have their season. 393 29 Of Virtue. 395 30 Of amonstrou● child●. 399 31 Of anger and choler. 399 32 A defence of Seneca and Plutarch. 404 33 The history of Spurina. 407 34 Observations concerning the means to war after the manner of julius Caesar. 411 35 Of three good women. 416 36 Of the worthiest and most excellent men. 420 37 Of the resemblance between children & fathers. 424 A Table of the Chapters of the Third Book. 1 OF profit and honesty. 435 2 Of repenting. 451 3 Of three commerces or societies. 558 4 Of diverting or diversion. 465 5 Upon some verser of Virgil. 471 6 Of Coaches. 504 7 Of the incommodity of greatness. 515 8 Of the Art of conferring. 518 9 Of Vanity. 531 10 How one ought to govern his will. 566 11 Of the Lame or Cripple. 578 12 Of Physiognomy. 584 13 Of Experience. 599 THE AUTHOR TO THE Reader. REader, loe-heere a well-meaning Book. It doth at the first entrance forewarn thee, that in contriving the same, I have proposed unto myself no other than a familiar and private end▪ I have no respect or consideration at all, either to thy service, or to my glory: my forces are not capable of any such design. I have vowed the same to the particular commodity of my kinsfolks and friends: to the end, that losing me (which they are likely to do ere long) they may therein find some lineaments of my conditions and humours, and by that means reserve more whole, and more lively foster the knowledge and acquaintance they have had of me. Had my intention been to forestall and purchase the world's opinion and favour, I would surely have adorned myself more quaintly, or kept a more grave and solemn march. I desire therein to be delineated in mine own genuine, simple and ordinary fashion, without contention, art or study, for it is myself I portray. My imperfections shall therein be read to the life, and my natural form discerned, so farforth as public reverence hath permitted me. For if my fortune had been to have lived among those nations, which yet are said to live under the sweet liberty of Nature's first and uncorrupted laws, I assure thee, I would most willingly have portrayed myself fully and naked. Thus gentle Reader myself am the groundwork of my book: It is then no reason thou shouldest employ thy time about so frivolous and vain a subject. Therefore farewell. From Montaigne, the first of March. 1580. THE ESSAYS OF MICHAEL Lord of Montaigne. The first Book. The first Chapter. By diverse means men come unto a like end. THE most usual way to appease those minds we have offended when revenge lies in their hands, and that we stand at their mercy, is by submission to move them to commiseration and pity: Noverthelesse, courage, constancy, and resolution (means altogether opposite) have sometimes wrought the same effect. Edward the black Prince of Wales (who so long governed our Country of Guienne, a man whose conditions and fortune were accompanied with many notable parts of worth and magnanimity) having been grievously offended by the Limosins, though he by main forcetooke & entered their City, could by no means be appeased, nor by the wailful out▪ cries of all sorts of people (as of men, women, and children) be moved to any pity, they prostrating themselves to the common slaughter, crying for mercy, and humbly submitting themselves at his feet, until such time as in triumphant manner passing through their city, he perceived three French gentlemen, who alone, with an incredible & undaunted boldness gainstood the enraged violence, and made head against the fury of his victorious army. The consideration and respect of so notable a virtue, did first abate the dint of his wrath, and from those three began to relent, and show mercy to all the other inhabitants of the said town. Scanderbag. Prince of Epirus, following one of his soldiers, with purpose to kill him, who by all means of humility, & submiss entreaty, had first assayed to pacify him, in such an unavoidable extremity, resolved at last, resolutely to encounter him with his sword in his hand. This resolution did immediately stay his captains fury, who seeing him undertake so honourable an attempt, not only forgave, but received him into grace & favour. This example may happily, of such as have not known the prodigious force, and matchless valour of the said Prince, admit an other interpretation. The Emperor Courad●●▪ third of that name; having besieged G●elphe, Duke of Bavaria, what vile or base satisfaction soever was offered him, would yield to no other milder conditions, but only to suffer such gentle women as were with the Duke in the city (their honours safe) to issue out of the town afoot, with such things as they could carry about them. The 〈…〉 an unrelenting courage, advised and resolved themselves (neglecting all other riches or jewels) to carry their husbands, their children, and the Duke himself, on their backs: The Emperor perceiving the quaintness of their devise, took so great pleasure at it, that he wept for joy, & forthwith converted that former inexorable rage, & mortal hatred he bore the Duke, into so mild a relenting and gentle 〈…〉 ther of these ways might easily persuade me: for I am much inclined to mercy, and affected to mildness. So it is, that in mine opinion, I should more naturally stoop unto compassion, than bend to estimation. Yet is pity held a vicious passion among the Stoics. They would have us aid the afflicted, but not to faint, and cosuffer with them. These examples seem fittest for me, forsomuch as these minds are seen to be assaulted and environed by these two means, in undauntedly suffering the one, and stooping under the other. It may peradventure be said, that to yield one's heart unto commiseration, is an effect of facility, tenderness, and meekness: whence it proceedeth, that the weakest natures, as of women, children, and the vulgar sort are more subject unto it. But (having contemned tears and wail) to yield unto the only reverence of the sacred Image of virtue, is the effect of a courageous and imployable mind, holding a masculine and constant vigour, in honour and affection. Notwithstanding amazement and admiration may in less generous minds work the like effect. Witness the Thebans, who having accused and indicted their captains, as of a capital crime, forsomuch as they had continued their charge, beyond the time prescribed them, absolved and quit Pelopidas of all punishment, because he submissively yielded under the burden of such objections, and to save himself, employed no other means, but suing-requests, and demisse entreaties; where on the contrary, Epaminondas, boldly relating the exploits achieved by him, and with a fierce and arrogant manner, upbraiding the people with them, had not the heart so much as to take their lots into his hands, but went his way, and was freely absolved: the assembly much commending the stoutness of his courage. Dionysius the elder, after long-lingering and extreme difficulties, having taken the City of Reggio, and in it the Captain Phyton (a worthy honest man) who had so obstinately defended the same, would needs show a tragical example of revenge. First, he told him, how the day before, he had caused his son, and all his kinsfolks to be drowned. To whom Phy●on, stoutly out-staring him answered nothing, but that they were more happy than himself, by the space of one day. Afterward he caused him to be stripped, and by his executioners to be taken and dragged through the City, most ignominiously, and cruelly whipping him, charging him beside, with outrageous and contumelious speeches. All which notwithstanding, as one no whit dismayed, he ever showed a constant and resolute heart. And with a cheerful and bold countenance went on still, loudly recounting the honourable and glorious cause of his death, which was, that he would never consent to yield his Country into the hands of a cruel tyrant, menacing him with an imminent punishment of the Gods. Dionysius plainly reading in his soldiers looks, that in lieu of animating them with braving his conquered enemy, they in contempt of him, and scorn of his triumph, seemed by the astonishment of so rare a virtue, to be moved with compassion, and inclined to mutiny, yea, and to free Phy●on from out the hands of his Sergeant's or Guard, caused his torture to cease, and secretly sent him to be drowned in the Sea. Surely, man is a wonderful, vain, diverse, and wavering subject: it is very hard to ground any directly-constant and uniform judgement upon him. Behold Pompey who freely pardoned all the City of the Mamertines, against which he was grievously enraged, for the love of the magnanimity, and considederation of the exceeding virtue of Zeno, one of their fellow-citizens, who took the public fault wholly upon himself, and desired no other favour, but alone to bear the punishment thereof; whereas Sulla's host having used the like virtue in the City of Perugia, obtained nothing, neither for himself, nor for others. And directly against my first example, the hardiest amongst men, and so gracious to the vanquished, Alexander the great, after many strange difficulties, forcing the City of Gaza, encountered by chance with Betis, that commanded therein, of whose valour (during the siege) he had felt wonderful and strange exploits, being then alone, forsaken of all his followers, his arms all-broken, all-besmeared with blood and wounds, fight amongst a number of Macedonians, who pellmell laid still upon him; provoked by so dear a victory (for among other mishaps he had newly received two hurts in his body) said thus unto him; Betis, thou shalt not die as thou wouldst: for make account thou must endure all the torments may possibly be devised or inflicted upon a caitiff wretch, as thou art. But he, for all his enemies threats, without speaking one word, returned only an assured, stern, and disdainful countenance upon him; which silent obstinacy Alexander noting, said thus unto himself: What? would he not bend his knee? could he not utter one suppliant voice? I will assuredly vanquish his silence, and if I can not wrest a word from him, I will at least make him to sob or groan. And converting his anger into rage, commanded his heels to be through-pierced, and so all alive with a cord through them, to be torn, mangled, and dismembered at a cart's tail. May it be, the force of his courage, was so natural and peculiar unto him, that because he would no-whit admire him, he respected him the less? or deemed he it so proper unto himself, that in his height, he could not without the spite of an envious passion, endure to see it in an other? or was the natural violence of his rage incapable of any opposition? surely, had it received any restraint, it may be supposed, that in the ransacking and desolation of the City of Thebes, it should have felt the same; in seeing so many Worthies lost, and valiant men put to the sword, as having no means of public defence; for above six thousand were slain and massacred, of which not one was seen, either to run away, or beg for grace. But on the contrary, some here and there seeking to affront, and endeavouring to check their victorious enemies, urging and provoking them to force them die an honourable death. Not one was seen to yield, and that to his last gasp did not attempt to revenge himself, and with all weapons of despair, with the death of some enemy, comfort and sweeten his own misery. Yet could not the affliction of their virtue find any ruth or pity, nor might one day suffice to glut or assuage his revengeful wrath. This burcherous slaughter continued unto the last drop of any remaining blood; where none were spared but the unarmed and naked, the aged and impotent, the women and children; that so from amongst them, they might get thirty thousand slaves. The second Chapter. Of Sadness or Sorrow. NO man is more free from this passion than I, for I neither love nor regard it: albeit the world hath undertaken, as it were upon covenant, to grace it with a particular favour. Therewith they adorn age, virtue, and conscience. Oh foolish and base ornament! The Italians have more properly with its name entitled malignity: for, it is a quality ever hurtful, ever sottis●; and as ever base and coward, the stoics inhibit their Elders and Sages to be therewith tainted, or have any feeling of it. But the Story saith; that Psamne●icus king of Egypt, having been defeated and taken by Cambyses king of Persia, seeing his own daughter pass before him in base and vile array, being sent to draw water from a well, his friends weeping & wailing about him (he with his eyes fixed on the ground, could not be moved to utter one word) and shortly after beholding his son led to execution, held still the same undaunted countenance: but perceiving a familiar friend of his haled amongst the captives, he began to beat his head, and burst forth into extreme sorrow. This might well be compared to that which one of our Princes was lately seen to do, who being at Trent, and receiving news of his elder brother's death; but such a brother as on him lay all the burden and honour of his house; and shortly after tidings of his younger brothers decease, who was his second hope; and having with an unmatched countenance and exemplar constancy endured these two affronts; it fortuned not long after, that one of his servants dying, he by this latter accident suffered himself to be so far transported, that quitting and forgetting his former resolution, he so abandoned himself to all manner of sorrow and grief, that some argued, only this last mischance had touched him to the quick: but verily the reason was, that being otherwise full, and over plunged in sorrow, the least surcharge broke the bounds and bars of patience. The like might (I say) be judged of our story, were it not it followeth, that Cambyses enquiring of Psamneticus, why he was nothing distempered at the misfortune of his son and daughter, he did so impatiently bear the disaster of his friend: It is, answered he, Because this last displeasure may be manifested by weeping, whereas the two former exceed by much, all means and compass to be expressed by tears. The invention of that ancient Painter might happily fit this purpose, who in the sacrifice of Iphigenia, being to represent the grief of the bystanders, according to the quality and interest each one bare for the death of so fair, so young and innocent a Lady, having ransacked the utmost skill and effects of his art, when he came to the Virgin's father, as if no countenance were able to represent that degree of sorrow, he drew him with avail over his face. And that is the reason why our Poets feign miserable Niobe, who first having lost seven sons, and immediately as many daughters, as one overburdened with their losses, to have been transformed into a stone; Diriguisse malis: And grew as hard as stone, ovid. M●tam. lib. 6. 303. By misery and moan. Thereby to express this mournful silent stupidity, which so doth pierce us, when accidents surpassing our strength o'erwhelm us. Verily the violence of a grief, being extreme, must needs astonie the mind, & hinder the liberty of her actions. As it happeneth at the sudden alarm of some bad tidings, when we shall feel ourselves surprised, benumbed, and as it were deprived of all motion, so that the soul bursting afterward forth into tears and complaints, seemeth at more ease and liberty, to lose, to clear and dilate itself. Et via vix tandem voci laxata dolore est, And scarce at last for speech, Virg. A●n. l. 11. 151. By grief was made a breach. In the wars which king Ferdinando made against the widow of john king of Hungaria, about Buda; a man at arms was particularly noted of all men, forsomuch as in a certain skirmish he had showed exceeding prowess of his body, and though unknown, being slain, was highly commended and much bemoaned of all: but yet of none so greatly as of a German Lord, called Raisciac, as he that was amazed at so rare virtue: his body being recovered and had off, this Lord, led by a common curiosity, drew near unto it, to see who it might be, and having caused him to be disarmed, perceived him to be his own son; which known, did greatly augment the compassion of all the camp: he only without framing word, or closing his eyes, but earnestly viewing the dead body of his son, stood still upright, till the vehemency of his sad sorrow, having suppressed and choked his vital spirits, felled him stark dead to the ground. Chipuo dir com'egli arde è in pi●ci●l f●ōco, He that can say how he doth fry, Pe●. p. 1. S●n. 140. In pettie-gentle flames doth lie, say those Lovers that would lively represent an into lerable passion. misero quod omnes Eripit sensus mihi; Nam simulte ●at●l. Epig. 48. 5. Lesbian aspexi, nihil est super mî Quod loquar amen. Lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub art●s Flamma dimana●, so●●●u suopte Tinniunt aures, gemina teguntur, Lumina ●octe. miserably from me, This bereaves all sense: for I can no sooner Eye thee my sweet heart, but I wot not one word to speak amazed. Tongue-tied as in trance, while a sprightly thin flame Flows in all my joints, with a selfe-resounding Both my ears tingle, with a night redoubled Both mine eyes are veiled. Nor is it in the liveliest, and most ardent heat of the fit, that we are able to display our plaints and persuasions, the soul being then aggravated with heavy thoughts, and the body suppressed and languishing for love. And thence is sometimes engendered that casual faintness, which so unseasonably surpriseth passionate Lovers, and that chillness, which by the power of an extreme heat doth seize on them in the very midst of their joy and enjoying. All passions that may be tasted and digested, are but mean and slight. Curae leues loquuntur, ingentes stupent. S●n Hip. act. 2. Scena 2. Light cares can freely speak, Great cares heart rather break. The surprise of an unexpected pleasure astonieth us alike. Vt me conspexit venientem, & Troia circùm Virg. Aenead. lib. 3. 306. Arma amens vidit, magnis exterrita monstris, Diriguit visu in medio, calor ossa reliquit, Labitur, & longo vix tandem tempore fatur. When she beheld me come, and round about Sensel esse saw Trojan arms, she stood afraid Stone-still at so strange sights: life heat flew out: She faints: at last, with long pause thus she said. Besides the Roman Lady, that died for joy to see her son return alive from the battle of Cannae Sophocles and Dionysius the Tyrant, who deceased through over-gladnes: and Talua, who died in Corsica, reading the news of the honours the Roman Senate had conferred upon him: It is reported that in our age, Pope Leo the tenth, having received advertisement of the taking of the City of Milan, which he had so exceedingly desired, entered into such excess of joy, that he fell into an ague, whereof he shortly died. And for a more authentical testimony of human imbecility, it is noted by our Ancients, that Diodorus the Logician, being surprised with an extreme passion or apprehension of shame, fell down stark dead, because neither in his School, nor in public, he had been able to resolve an argument propounded unto him. I am little subject to these violent passions. I have naturally a hard apprehension, which by discourse I daily harden more and more. The third Chapter. Our affections are transported beyond ourselves. THose which still accuse men for ever gaping after future things, and go about to teach us, to take hold of present fortunes, and settle ourselves upon them, as having no hold of that which is to come; yea much less than we have of that which is already past, touch and are ever harping upon the commonest human error, if they dare call that an error, to which Nature herself, for the service of the continuation of her work, doth address us, imprinting (as it doth many others) this false imagination in us, as more jealous of our actions, than of our knowledge. We are never in ourselves, but beyond. Fear, desire, and hope, draw us ever towards that which is to come, and remove our sense and consideration from that which is, to amuse us on that which shall be, yea when we shall be no more. Calamitosus est animus futuri anxius. A mind in suspense what is to come, is in a pitiful case. Sen. epi. 98. This notable precept is often all eaged in Plato. Follow thy business and know thyself; Each of these two members, doth generally imply all our duty; and likewise enfolds his companion. He that should do his business, might perceive that his first lesson is, to know what he is, and what is convenient for him. And he that knoweth himself, takes no more another's matters for his own, but above all other things, loveth and correcteth himself, rejecteth superfluous occupations, idle imaginations, and unprofitable propositions. As if you grant folly what it desireth, it will no-whit be satisfied; so is wisdom content with that which is present, and never displeased with itself. Epicurus doth dispense with his age touching the foresight and care of what shall ensue. Amongst the laws that regard the deceased, that which ties the actions of Princes to be examined when they are dead, seems to me very solid. They are companions, if not masters of the laws: That which justice could not work on their heads, it is reason it effect upon their reputation, and goods of their successors: things we many times prefer before our lives. It is a custom brings many singular commodities unto nations that observe it, and to be desired of all good Princes: who have cause to complain that the memory of the wicked is used as theirs. We owe a like obedience and subjection to all Kings; for it respects their office: but estimation and affection, we owe it only to their virtue. If they be unworthy, we are to endure them patiently, to conceal their vices, and to aid their indifferent actions with our commendations, as long as their authority hath need of our assistance, and that ought to be ascribed unto politic order. But our commerce with them being ended, there is no reason we should refuse the unfolding of our felt wrongs unto justice and our liberty. And specially to refuse good subjects, the glory to have reverently and faithfully served a master, whose imperfections were so well known unto them: exempting posterity from so profitable an example. And such as for the respect of some private benefit or interest do wickedly embrace the memory of an unworthy Prince, do particular justice at the charge of public justice. Titus Livius speaketh truly, where he saith, that the speech of men brought up under a royalty is ever full of vain ostentations, and false witnesses: every man indifferently extolling the king, to the furthest strain of valour and Sovereign greatness. The magnanimity of those two Soldiers, may be reproved, one of which being demanded of Nero, why he hated him, answered him to his teeth; I loved thee whilst thou wast worthy of love, but since thou becamest a parricide, a fir-brand, a juglar, a player, and a Coachman, I hate thee, as thou deservest. The other being asked, wherefore he sought to kill him; answered, Because I find no other course to hinder thy uncessant outrages and impious deeds. But can any man, that hath his senses about him, justly reprove the public and general testimonies, that since his death, have been given, and so snall be for ever, both against him and all such like reprobates, of his tyrannical and wicked demeanours? I am sorry that in so sacred a policy as the Lacedaemonian was, so feigned and fond a ceremony at the death of their kings was ever devised and brought in use. All their confederates and neighbours, all the slave-Heotes, men and women pellmell, for a testimony of their grief and sorrow did mangle and gash their foreheads; and in their outcries, and lamentations, exclaimed, that their deceased king, howsoever he had lived, was and had been the best Prince that ever they had, ascribing in order the commendations due unto desert, and to the last and latter rank, what belongs unto the first merit. Aristotle that hath an oar in every water, and meddleth with all things, makes a question, about Solon's speech, who saith, that no man can truly be counted happy before his death, Whether he that lived and died according to his wish may be named happy, Whether his renown be good or ill, and whether his posterity be miserable or no. Whilst we stir and remove, we transport ourselves by preoccupation wheresoever we list: But no sooner are we out of being, but we have no communication at all with that which is. And it were better to tell Solon, that never man is happy then, since he never is so, but when he is no more. — Quisquam Vix radicitus è vita se tollit, & eijcit: Lucret. ●●●. ●●●. lib. 3. 912. Sed facit esse suiquiddam super inscius ipse, Nec removet satis à proiecto corpore seize, & Vindicat— Scarce any rids himself of life so clear, But leaves unwitting some part of him here: Nor frees or quits himself sufficiently From that his body which forlorn doth lie. Bertrand of Gelsquin died at the siege of the castle of Rancon, near unto Puy in Auvergne: the besieged yielding afterward, were forced to carry the keys of the Castle, upon the deceased body of the Captain. Bartholomew of Alviano, General of the Venetian forces dying in their service and wars about Brescia, and his body being to be transported to Venice, through the territory of Verona, which then was enemy unto them, the greatest part of the army thought it expedient to demand a safe conduct for their passage of those of Verona, to which Theodoro Trivulcio stoutly opposed himself, and chose rather to pass it by main force, and to hazard the day, saying it was not convenient, that he who in his life time had never apprehended fear of his enemies should now being dead, seem to fear them. Verily in like matters, by the laws of Greece, he that required a dead body of his enemies, with intent to bury the same, renounced the victory, and might no more erect any trophy of it: and he who was so required, purchased the title of honour and gain. So did Nicias lose the advantage he had clearly gained of the Corinthians; and chose, Agesilaus, assured that, he doubtfully had gotten of the Boetians. These actions might be deemed strange, if in all ages it were not a common-received opinion, not only to extend the care of ourselves, beyond this life, but also to believe, that heavenly favours to often accompany us unto our grave, and continue in our posterity. Whereof there are so many examples (leaving our modern a part) that I need not wade far into it. Edward the first king of England, in the long wars he had with Robert King of Scotland, having by trial found how greatly his presence advantaged the success of his affairs, and how he was ever victorious in any enterprise he undertook in his own person; when he died, bound his son by solemn oath, that being dead he should cause his body to be boiled, until the flesh fell from the bones, which he should cause to be interred, and carefully keeping the bones, ever carry them about him, whensoever he should happen to have wars with the Scots: As if destiny had fatally annexed the victory unto his limbs. john Zisca; who for the defence of Wickliffs' opinions so much troubled the state of Bohemia, commanded that after his death his body should be flayed, and a drum made of his skin, to be carried and sounded in all the wars against his enemies: deeming the sound of it would be a means to continue the advantages, which in his former wars he had obtained of them. Certain Indians did likewise carry the bones of one of their Captains in the skirmishes they had with the Spaniards, in regard of the good success he had, whilst he lived, had against them: And other nations of that newfound world, do likewise carry the bodies of such worthy and fortunate men with them, as have died in their battles, to serve them in stead of good fortune and encouragement. The first examples reserve nothing else in their tombs, but the reputation acquired by their former achievements: but these will also adjoin unto it the power of working. The act of Captain Bayart is of better composition, who perceiving himself deadly wounded by a shot received in his body, being by his men persuaded to come off and retire himself from out the throng, answered, he would not now so near his end, begin to turn his face from his enemy: and having stoutly fought so long as he could stand, feeling himself to faint and stagger from his horse, commanded his steward to lay him against a tree, but in such sort, that he might die with his face toward the enemy; as indeed he did. I may not omit this other example, as remarkable for this consideration, as any of the precedent. The Emperor Maximilian, great grandfather to Philip, now King of Spain, was a Prince highly endowed with many notable qualities, and amongst others with a well-nigh matchless beauty and comeliness of body; but with other customs of his, he had this one much contrary to other Princes, who to dispatch their weightiest affairs make often their close stool, their regal Throne or Councel-chamber, which was, that he would not permit any groom of his chamber (were he never so near about him) to see him in his inner-chamber, who if he had occasion but to make water, would as nicely and as religiously withdraw himself as any maiden, and never suffer so much as a Physician, much less any other whatsoever, to see those privy parts that all in modesty seek to keep secret and unseen. Myself, that am so broad-mouthed and lavish in speeches, am notwithstanding naturally touched with that bashfulness. And unless it be by the motion of necessity or of voluptuousness, I never willingly imparted those actions and parts (which custom willeth to be concealed) to the view of any creature. I endure more compulsion, than I deem befitting a man, especially of my profession. But he grew to such superstition, that by express words in his last will and testament, he commanded, that being dead, he should have linnen-slops put about them. He should by codicile have annexed unto it, that he who should put them on, might have his eyes hoodwinked. The instruction which Cyrus giveth his children, that neither they nor any other should either see or touch his body, after the breath were once out of it; I ascribe it unto some motive of devotion in him. For both his historian and himself, amongst many other notable qualities they are endued with, have throughout all the course of their life seemed to have a singular respect and awful reverence unto religion. That story displeased me very much, which a noble man told me of a kinsman of mine (a man very famous & well known both in peace and war) which is, that dying very aged in his court, being much tormented with extreme pangs of the stone, he with an earnest and unwearied care, employed all his last hours, to dispose the honour and ceremony of his funerals, and summoned all the nobility that came to visit him to give him assured promise to be as assistants, and to convey him to his last resting place. To the very same Prince, who was with him at his last gasp, he made very earnest suit, he would command all his household to wait upon him at his interrement, enforcing many reasons, and all eaging diverse examples, to prove that it was a thing very convenient, and fitting a man of his quality: which assured promise when he had obtained, & had at his pleasure marshaled the order how they should march, he seemed quietly and contentedly to yield up the ghost. I have seldom seen a vanity continue so long. This other curiosity mere opposite unto it (which to prove I need not labour for home-examples) seemeth in my opinion cousin-german to this that is, when one is ever ready to breath his last, carefully and passionately to endeavour, how to reduce the convoy of his obsequies unto some particular & unwonted parsimony, to one servant and to one lantern: I hear the humour and appointment of Marcus Aemilius Lepidus commended, who expressly forbade his heirs to use those ceremonies about his interrement, which in such cases were formerly accustomed: Is it temperance and frugality, to avoid charge and voluptuousness, the use and knowledge of which is inperceptable unto us? Lo here an easy reformation and of small cost. Were it requisite to appoint any, I would be of opinion, that as well in that, as in all other actions of man's life, every man should refer the rule of it to the quality of his fortune. And the Philosopher Lycon did wisely appoint his friends to place his body, where they should think it fittest and for the best: and for his obsequies, they should neither be superfluous and over-costly, nor base and sparing. For my part, I would wholly rely on custom, which should dispose this ceremony, and would yield myself to the discretion of the first or next, into whose hands I might chance to fall. Totus hic locus est contemnendus in nobis, non negligendus in nostris. All this matter should be despised of us, but not neglected of ours. And religiously said a holy man: Curatio funeris, justini. ci● dei. l. 1. c. 12. verb. apost. ser. 32. conditio sepulturae, pompa exequiarum, magis sunt vivorum solatia, quam subsidia mortuorum. The procuration of funerals, the manner of burial, the pomp of obsequies, are rather comforts to the living, than helps to the dead. Therefore Socrates answered Criton, who at the hour of his death, asked him, how he would be buried: Even as you please, said he: were I to meddle further with this subject, I would deem it more gallant, to imitate those who yet living and breathing, undertake to enjoy the order and honour of their sepulchers, and that please themselves to behold their dead countenance in Marble. Happy they that can rejoice and gratify their senses with insensibility, and live by their death! A little thing would make me conceive an inexpiable hatred against all popular domination; although it seem most natural and just unto me: when I call to mind that inhuman injustice of the Athenians, who without further trial or remission, yea without suffering them so much as to reply or answer for themselves, condemned those noble and worthy captains, that returned victoriously from the sea-battell, which they (near the Isles Arginusae) had gained of the Lacedæmonians; the most contested, bloody, and greatest fight the Grecians ever obtained by sea with their own forces: forsomuch as after the victory, they had rather followed those occasions, which the law of war presented unto them, for their avail, than to their prejudice stayed to gather and bury their dead men. And the success of Diomedon makes their ruthless execution more hateful, who being a man of notable and exemplar virtue, both military and politic, and of them so cruelly condemned; after he had heard the bloody sentence, advancing himself forward to speak, having fit opportunity and plausible audience; he, I say, in stead of excusing himself, or endeavouring to justify his cause, or to exasperate the evident iniquity of so cruel a doom, expressed but a care of the judges preservation, earnestly beseeching the Gods to turn that judgement to their good, praying that for want of not satisfying the vows, which he and his companions had vowed in acknowledgement and thanksgiving for so famous a victory, and honourable fortune, they might not draw the wrath and revenge of the Gods upon them, declaring what their vows were. And without more words, or urging further reasons, courageously addressed himself to his execution. But fortune some years after punished him alike, and made him taste of the very same sauce. For Chabrias, Captain General of their sea-fleet, having afterward obtained a famous victory of polis, Admiral of Sparta, in the I'll of Naxos, lost absolutely the benefit of it, and only contented with the day (a matter of great consequence for their affairs) fearing to incur the mischief of this example, and to save a few dead carcases of his friends, that floated up and down the sea, gave leisure to an infinite number of his living enemies, whom he might easily have surprised, to sail away in safety, who afterward made them to purchase their importunate superstition, at a deere-deere rate. Quaeris, quo ●ac●as, post obitum, loco? S●●. Tr●as. chor. 2. 30. Quo non nata jacent. Where shall you lie when you are dead? Where they lie that were never bred: This other restores the sense of rest unto a body without a soul. Cic. Tusc. qu. lib. 1. E●●●. Neque sepulchrum, quo recipiat, habeat portum corporis: Vbi, remissa humana vita, corpus requiescat à malis. To turn in, as a haven, have he no grave, Where life left, from all grief he rest may have. Even as Nature makes us to see, that many dead things, have yet certain secret relations unto life. Wine doth alter and change in sellers, according to the changes and alterations of the seasons of its vineyard. And the flesh of wild beasts and venison doth change quality and taste in the powdering-tubbes, according to the nature of living flesh, as some say that have observed it. The fourth Chapter. How the soul dischargeth her passions upon false objects, when the true fail it. A Gentleman of ours exceedingly subject to the gout, being instantly solicited by his Physicians, to leave all manner of salt-meates, was wont to answer pleasantly, that when the fits or pangs of the disease took him, he would have some body to quarrel with; and that crying and cursing, now against Bolonie-sausege, and sometimes by railing against salt neats-tongues, and gammons of bacon, he found some ease. But in good earinest even as the arm being lifted up to strike, if the stroke hit not, but fall void, we feel some pain in it, and many times strike it out of joint; and that to yield our sight pleasant, ● must not be lost and dispiersed in the vast air, but ought rather to have a limited bound to sustain it by a reasonable distance. Venius ut amittit vires, nisi robore densae Luca●. lib. 3. 362. Occurrant siluae, spatio diffusus inani. As winds in empty air diffused, strength lose, Unless thick-old-growne woods of their strength oppose. So seems it that the soul moved and tossed, if she have not some hold to take, looseth itself in itself, and must ever be stored with some object, on which it may light and work. Plutarch saith fitly of those who affectionate themselves to Monkeys and little Dogs, that the loving part which is in us, for want of a lawful hold, rather than it will be idle, doth forge a false and frivolous hold unto itself. And we see that the soul in her passions doth rather deceive itself, by framing a false and fantastical subject unto itself, yea against her own conceit, than not to work upon something. So doth their own rage transport beasts, to set upon the stone or weapon that hath hurt them; yea and sometimes with ireful teeth to revenge themselves against themselves, for the hurt or smart they feel. Pannonis haud aliter post ictum saevior ursa Luca● lib 6. 2●0. Cui iaculum parva Lybis amentavit babena, Se rotat in vulnus, telúmque irat a receptum Impedit, & secum fugientem circuit hastam. Even so the wound-enraged Austrian bear, On whom a Moor hath thir'ld his slinged spear, Wheels on her wound, and raging bites the dart, Circling that flies with her, and can not part. What causes do we not invent, for the crosses that happen unto us? be it right, or wrong: what take we not hold of, to have something to strive withal? It is not the golden locks thou tearest, nor the whiteness of the breast, which thou through vexation so cruelly dost smite, that have by means of an unlucky bullet, lost thy deere-beloved brother: on something else shouldest thou wreak thyself. Livius speaking of the Roman army in Liu. di●. 3. lib. 5. Spain, after the loss of two great Captains that were brethren. Flere omnes repent, & offensare capita: They all wept and often beat their heads. It is an ordinary custom: And the Philosopher Byon, was very pleasant with the king, that for grief tore his hair, when he said, Doth this man think, that baldness will assuage his grief? who hath not seen some to chew and swallow cards, and well-nigh choke themselves with bales of dice, only to be revenged for the loss of some money? Xerxes' whipped the Sea, and writ a cartel of defiance to the hill Athos: And Cyrus for many days together ammused his whole army to be revenged of the river Gyndus, for the fear he took passing over the same: And Caligula caused a very fair house to be defaced, for the pleasure his mother had received in the same. When I was young, my countrymen were wont to say, That one of our neighbour-Kings, having received a blow at God's hand, swore to be revenged on him, and ordained, that for ten years space no man should pray unto him, nor speak of him, not so long as he were in authority, believe in him. By which report, they do not so much publish the sottishness, as the ambitious glory, peculiar unto that nation of whom it was spoken. They are vices that ever go together: But in truth such actions incline rather unto self-conceit, than to fondness. Augustus Caesar having been beaten by a tempest on the sea, defied the God Neptune, and in the celebration of the Circensian games, that so he might be avenged on him, he caused his image to be removed from-out the place, where it stood amongst the other Gods; wherein he is also less excusable, than the former, and less than he was afterward, when having lost a battle, under Quintilius Varus in Germany, all in a rage and desperate, he went up and down beating his head against the walls, mainly crying out: Oh! Varus, restore me my Soldiers again: For, those exceed all folly, (forsomuch as impiety is joined unto it) that will wreak themselves against God, or fortune, as if she had ears subject to our battery: In imitation of the Thracians, who when it lightens or thunders, begin with a Titanian revenge to shoot against heaven, thinking by shooting of arrows to draw God to some reason. Now, as saith that ancient Poet in Plutarch. Point ne se faut corroucer aux affairs, Plutar. Il ne leur chaut de toutes noz choleres. We ought not angry be at what God doth, For he cares not who bears an angry tooth. But we shall never rail enough against the disorder and unruliness of our mind. The fifth Chapter. Whether the Captain of a place besieged aught to sally forth to parley. LVcius Marcius Legate of the Romans, in the war against Perseus' King of Macedon, desirous to get so much time, as he wanted to prepare his army, gave out some motives of accord, wherewith the King inveigled, yielded unto a truce for certain days: by which means he furnished his enemy with opportunity & leisure to arm himself: whereof proceeded the King's last ruin and overthrow. Yet is it, that the elders of the Senate, mindful of their forefathers customs, condemned this practice as an enemy to their ancient proceedings, which was, said they▪ to fight with virtue, and not with craft, nor by surprises, or stratagems by night, nor by set-flights, and unlookt-for approaches, never undertaking a war, but after it was proclaimed, yea many times after the appointed hour and place of the battle. With this conscience did they send back to Pyrrhus his traitorous Physician, and to the Phalis●i their disloyal schoolmaster. These were true Roman proceedings, and not Grecian policies, nor Punic wiles, with whom to vanquish by force is less glorious than to conquer by treachery. To deceive may serve for the instant, but he only is judged to be overcome, that knows he was not vanquished by craft or deceit, nor by fortune or chance, but by mere valour, between troop and troop, in an overt and just war. It appeareth manifestly by the speech of these good men, they had not yet received this sentence. — Dolus, an virtus, quis in host requirat? Virg Aeneid. lib. 2. 390. Deceit, or virtue, either, in foes, it skill's not whether. The Achaians, saith Polybius, detested all manner of deceit in their wars, deeming that no victory, where their enemy's courages were not quelled. Eam vir sanctus, & sapiens sciat esse victoriam veram, quae salva fide, & integra dignitate parabitur. A wise and religious man will know that is victory indeed, which shall be attained with credit unimpeached, and dignity untainted, saith another. Vos ne velit, an me regnare hera, quid-veferat for'rs, Cic Offic. lib. 1. ex Enn. de Pyrrh. Virtute experiamur. If fortune will have you to reign, or me, And what chance bring's, let virtues trial be. In the Kingdom of Ternates, among those nations, which we so full-mouthed, call Barbarous, the custom beareth, that they never undertake a war, before the same be denounced; thereunto adding an ample declaration of the means they have to employ therein, what manner, and how many men, what munition, and what Arms either offensive or defensive: which done, they also establish as a law, that without reproach or imputation, it shall be lawful for any man, in their wars, to use what advantage soever, may in any sort further or help them to vanquish. The ancient Florentines were so far from desiring any advantage of their enemies by sudden surprises, that a month before they could bring their Army into the field, they would give them warning, by the continual sound of their common bell, which they called Mar●●nella. As for us, who are less superstitious, and deem him to have the honour of the war, that hath the profit of it, and according to Lisander, say, that Where the Lions-skinne will not suffice, we must add a scantling of the Foxes; the most ordinary occasions of surprises are drawn from this practice, and as we say, there is no time, wherein a Captain ought to be more wary and circumspect to look about him, than that of parleys, and treaties of accord: And therefore is it a common rule in the mouth of all our modern men of war, that the Governor or Commander of a besieged place, ought never to sally forth himself to parley. In the time of our forefathers, the same was cast in the teeth, (as a reproach) unto the Lord of Montmor● and Assigni, who defended Mou●●●, against the Earl of Nanseaw. Yet in this case it were excusable in him, that should so sally out, that the assurance and advantage, might still be on his side. As did the Earl Gu●●o R●ngom in the City of Reggio (if credit may be given to Bellay: for Guicci●●●● affirmeth, that it was himself) when as the Lord of Escute, coming to parley made his approaches unto it; for he did so little forsake his fort that whilst they were in parley, a commotion being raised, the Lord of Escute and the troops which came with him, in that tumult found himself to be the weakest, so that Alexander Trivultio was there slain, and he deeming it the safest way, was forced to follow the Earl, and on his word to yield himself to the mercy and shelter of blows, into the City. Eumenes in the City of Nora, being urged by Antigonus, that besieged him, to sally forth to parley, alleging that there was reason he should come to him, sith he was the better man, and the stronger: after he had made this noble answer, I will never think any man better than myself, so long as I can hold or rule my sword; nor did he ever yield until Antigonus had delivered him Ptolomey, his own nephew for a pledge, whom he required. Yet shall we see some to have prospered well in sallying forth of their holds to parley, upon the word and honour of the assailant; witness Henry of Vaulx, a knight of champaign, who being beleaguered by the Englishmen in the Castle of Commercie, and Bartholomew of Bones, who at that siege commanded as Chief, having caused the greatest part of the Castle to be undermined, so that there wanted nothing but the giving of fire, utterly to subvert the same, under the ruins of it, summoned the said Henry to issue out, and for his own good to parley with him, which he did, accompanied but with three more, who manifestly seeing the evident ruin, wherein he was undoubtedly like to fall, acknowledged himself infinitely beholding to his enemy, unto whose discretion, after he had yielded together with his troop, and that fire was given to the Mine, the main props of the Castle failing, it was utterly overthrown and carried away. I am easily persuaded to yield to other men's words and faith, but hardly would I do it, when I should give other men cause to imagine, that I had rather done it through despair and want of courage, than of a free and voluntary choice, and confidence in his honesty and well-meaning. The sixth Chapter. That the hour of parleys is dangerous. NOtwithstanding I saw lately, that those of Musidan, a place not far from me, who with others of their party, were by our forces compelled to dislodge thence, exclaimed, they were betrayed, because during the speech of accord, and the treaty yet continuing, they had been surprised and defeated; which thing might happily, in other ages have had some appearance of truth; but, as I say, our manner of proceeding in such cases, is altogether differing from these rules, and no man ought to expect performance of promise from an enemy, except the last seal of bond be fully annexed thereunto, wherein notwithstanding is then much care and vigilancy required, and much ado shall be found. And it was ever a dangerous counsel to trust the performance of word or oath given unto a City, that yields unto gentle and favourable composition, and in that fury to give the needy, blood-thirsty, and pray-greedy Soldier free entrance into it, unto the free choice and licence of a victorious army. Lucius Aemilius Regillus a Roman Praetor, having lost his time in attempting by force to take the City of the Phocens by reason of the singular prowess, which the inhabitants showed, in stoutly defending themselves, covenanted to receive them as friends unto the people of Rome, and to enter their City as a place confederate, removing all fear of hostile-action from them. But to the end he might appear more glorious, and dreadful, having caused his army to enter with him, do what he might, he could not bridle the rage of his Soldiers; and with his own eyes saw most part of the City ransacked and spoiled: the rights of covetousness and revenge supplanting those of his authority and military discipline. (Cleomenes was wont to say, that What hurt soever a man might do his enemies in time of war, was beyond justice, and not subject unto it, as well towards the Gods as towards men: who for seven days having made truce with those of Argos, the third night, whilst they were all asleep mistrusting no harm, he charged and overthrew them, alleging for his excuse, that in the truce no mention had been made of nights.) But the Gods left not his perfidious policy unrevenged: For during their enter-parlie and business about taking hostages, the City of Casilinum was by surprise taken from him: which happened in the times of the justest Captains, and of the most perfect Roman discipline: For it is not said, that time and place serving, we must not make use and take advantage of our enemies foolish oversight, as we do of their cowardice. And verily war hath naturally many reasonable privileges to the prejudice of reason. And here fails the rule. Neminem id agere, ut ex alterins praedetur inscitia. That no man should endeavour to Cic. Offic. lib 3. pray upon another man's ignorance. But I wonder of the scope that Xenophon allows them, both by his discourse, and by divers exploits of his perfect Emperor: an Author of wonderful consequence in such things, as a great Captain and a Philosopher, and one of Socrates' chiefest Disciples, nor do I altogether yield unto the measure of his dispensation. The Lord of Aubigny besieging Capua, after he had given it a furious battery, the Lord Fabritius Colonna, Captain of the town, having from under a bastion or sconce begun to parley, and his men growing negligent and careless in their offices and guard, our men did suddenly take the advantage offered them, entered the town, overranne it, and put all to the sword. But to come to later examples, yea in our memory, the Lord julio Romero at Yvoy, having committed this oversight to issue out of his hold, to parley with the Constable of France, at his return found the Town taken, and himself jacks-out-of-doore. But that we may not pass unrevenged, the Marquis of Pescara beleagering Genova, where Duke Octavian Fregoso, commanded under our protection, and an accord between them having so long been treated, and earnestly solicited, that it was held as ratified, and upon the point of conclusion, the Spaniards being entered the Town, and seeing themselves the stronger, took their opportunity, and used it as a full and complete victory: and since at Lygny in Barroe, where the Earl of Brienne commanded, the Emperor having besieged him in person, and Bartholemy Lieutenant to the said Earl being come forth of his hold to parley, was no sooner out, whilst they were disputing, but the Town was surprised, and he excluded, They say, Furio il vincer sempre may laudabil cosa, Arist. cant 15. stan. 1. Vincasi per fortuna ô per ingegno. To be victorious, evermore was glorious, Be we by fortune or by wit victorious. But the Philosopher Chrysippus would not have been of that opinion; nor I neither, for he was wont to say, That those who run for the mastery may well employ all their strength to make speed, but it is not lawful for them to lay hands on their adversaries, to stay him, or to cross legs, to make him trip or fall. And more generously answered Alexander the great, at what time Polypercon persuaded him to use the benefit of the advantage which the darkness of the night afforded him, to charge Darius; No no, said he, it fits not me to Curt. lib. 4. hunt after night-stolne victories: Malo me fortunae poeniteat, quam victoriae pudeat. I had rather repent me of my fortune, than be ashamed of my victory. Atque idem fugientem haud est dignatus Orodem Virg. Aen. lib. 10. 732. Mezent. Sternere, nec ●actacaecum dare cuspide vulnus: Obuius adversóque occurrit, séque viro vir Contulit, haud fur to meliôr, sed fortibus armis. He deigned not to strike down Orodes flying, Or with his throwne-launce blindely-wound him running: But man to man affront himself applying, Met him, as more esteemed for strength then cunning. The seventh Chapter. That our intention judgeth our actions. THE common saying is, that Death acquits us of all our bonds. I know some that have taken it in another sense. Henry the seventh, King of England made a composition with Philip son to Maximilian the Emperor, or to give him a more honourable title, father to the Emperor Charles the fifth, that the said Philip should deliver into his hands, the Duke of Suffolk, his mortal enemy, who was fled out of England, and saved himself in the Low countries, always provided the King should attempt nothing against the Duke's life; which promise notwithstanding, being near his end, he expressly by will and testament commanded his succeeding-sonne, that immediately after his decease, he should cause him to be put to death. In the late tragedy, which the Duke of Alva presented us withal at Brussels, on the Earls of Horn and Egmond, were many remarkable things, and worthy to be noted: and amongst others, that the said Count Egmond, upon whose faithful word and assurance, the Earl of Horn was come in & yielded himself to the Duke of Alva, required very instantly to be first put to death, to the end his death might acquit and free him of the word and bond, which he ought and was engaged for, to the said Earl of Horn. It seemeth that death hath no whit discharged the former of his word given, and that the second, without dying, was quit of it. We cannot be tied beyond our strength, and means. The reason is, because the effects and executions, are not any way in our power, and except our will, nothing is truly in our power: on it only are all the rules of man's duty grounded and established by necessity. And therefore Count Egmond, deeming his mind and will indebted to his promise, howbeit the power to effect it, lay not in his hands, was no doubt clearly absolved of his debt and duty, although he had survived the Count Horn. But the King of England failing of his word by his intention, cannot be excused, though he delayed the execution of his disloyalty until after his death. No more than Herodotus his Mason who during his natural life, having faithfully kept the secret of his Master the King of Egypt's treasure when he died, discovered the same unto his children. I have in my days seen many convicted by their own conscience, for detaining other men's goods, yet by their last will and testament to dispose themselves, after their decease to make satisfaction. This is nothing to the purpose. Neither to take time for a matter so urgent, nor with so small interest or show of feeling, to go about to establish an injury. They are indebted somewhat more. And by how much more they pay incommodiously and chargeably, so much the more just and meritorious is their satisfaction. Penitence ought to charge, yet do they worse, who reserve the revealing of some heinous conceit or affection towards their neighbour, to their last will and affection, having whilst they lived ever kept it secret. And seem to have little regard of their own honour, by provoking the party offended against their own memory, and less of their conscience, since they could never for the respect of death cancel their ill-grudging affection, and in extending life beyond theirs. Oh wicked and ungodly judges, which refer the judgement of a cause to such time as they have no more knowledge of causes! I will as near as I can prevent, that my death reveal or utter any thing, my life hath not first publicly spoken. The eight Chapter. Of Idleness. AS we see some idle-fallow grounds, if they be fat and fertile, to bring forth store & sundry roots of wild and unprofitable weeds, and that to keep them in urewe must subject and employ them with certain seeds for our use and service. And as we see some women, though single and alone, often to bring forth lumps of shapeless flesh, whereas to produce a perfect and natural generation, they must be manured with another kind of seed: So is it of minds, which except they be busied about some subject, that may bridle and keep them under, they will here and there wildly scatter themselves through the vast field of imaginations. Sicut aquae tremulum labris ubi lumen ahenis V●g A●n. lib. 8. 22. Sole repercussum, aut radiantis imagine L●nae, Omnia pervolit at latè loca, iámque sub auras Erigitur, summique ferit laquearia tecti. As trembling light reflected from the Sun, Or radiant Moon on water-fild brass lavers, Flies over all, in air unpraised soon, Strikes housetop beams, betwixt both strangely wavers. And there is no folly, or extravagant raving, they produce not in that agitation. Hor. art. po●t. 7. — veluti agrisomnia, van● Finguntur species. Like sick men's dreams, that feign Imaginations vain. The mind that hath no fixed bound, will easily lose itself: For, as we say, To be every where, is to be no where. Quisquis ubique habitat, Maxim, ●●squam habitat. Mars. lib. 7. spi. 72. 6. Good sir, he that dwells every where, No where can say, that he dwells there. It is not long since I retired myself unto mine own house, with full purpose, as much as lay in me, not to trouble myself with any business, but solitarily, and quietly to wear out the remainder of my well-nigh-spent life; where me thought I could do my spirit no greater favour, than to give him the full scope of idleness, and entertain him as he best pleased, and withal, to settle himself as he best liked: which I hoped he might now, being by time become more settled and ripe, accomplish very easily: but I find, Variam semper dant otia mentem. Luca. lib. 4. 704 Evermore idleness, Doth wavering minds address. That chose playing the skittish and loose-broken jade, he takes a hundred times more career and liberty unto himself, than he did for others, and begets in me so many extravagant chimeras, and fantastical monsters, so orderless, and without any reason, one huddling upon an other, that at-leasure to view the foolishness and monstrous strangeness of them, I have begun to keep a register of them, hoping, if I live, one day to make him ashamed, and blush at himself. The ninth Chapter. Of Liars. THere is no man living, whom it may less beseem to speak of memory, than myself, for to say truth, I have none at all: and am fully persuaded that no-man's canbe so weak and forgetful as mine. All other parts are in me common and vile, but touching memory, I think to carry the prize from allother, that have it weakest, nay and to gain the reputation of it, besides the natural want I endure (for truly considering the necessity of it, Plato hath reason to name it A great and mighty Goddess) In my country, if a man will imply that one hath no sense, he will say, such a one hath no memory: and when I complain of mine, they reprove me & will not believe me, as if I accused myself to be mad & senseless. They make no difference between memory & wit; which is an impairing of my market: But they do me wrong, for chose, it is commonly seen by experience, that excellent memories do rather accompany weak judgements. Moreover they wrong me in this (who can do nothing so well as to be a perfect friend) that the same words which accuse my infirmity, represent ingratitude. From my affection they take hold of my memory, & of a natural defect, they infer a want of judgement or conscience. Some will say, he hath forgotten this entreaty, or request, or that promise, he is not mindful of his old friends, he never remembered to say, or do, or conceal this or that, for my sake. Verily I may easily forget, but to neglect the charge my friend hath committed to my trust, I never do it. Let them bear with my infirmity, and not conclude it to be a kind of malice; which is so contrary an enemy to my humour. Yet am I somewhat comforted. First, because it is an evil, from which I have chiefly drawn the reason to correct a worse mischief, that would easily have grown upon me: that is to say, ambition; which defect is intolerable in them that meddlewith worldly negotiations. For as diverse like examples of nature's progress, say, she hath happily strengthened other faculties in me, according as it hath grown weaker and weaker in me, and I should easily lay down and wiredraw my mind and judgement, upon other men's traces, without exercising their proper forces, if by the benefit of memory, foreign inventions & strange opinions were present with me. That my speech is thereby shorter: For the Magazine of Memory, is peradventure more stored with matter, than is the storehouse of Invention. Had it held out with me, I had ere this wearied all my friends with prattling: the subjects rousing the mean faculty I have to manage and employ them, strengthening and wresting my discourses. It is pity; I have assayed by the trial of some of my private friends: according as their memory hath ministered them a whole and perfect matter, who recoil their narration so farre-backe, and stuff-it with so many vain circumstances, that if the story be good, they smother the goodness of it: if bad, you must needs either curse the good fortune of their memory, or blame the misfortune of their judgement. And it is no easy matter, being in the midst of the career of a discourse, to stop cunningly, to make a sudden period, and to cut-it-off. And there is nothing whereby the clean strength of a horse is more known, than to make a ready and clean stop. Among the skilful I see some, that strive, but can not stay their race. Whilst they labour to find the point to stop their course, they stagger and falter, as men that faint through weakness. Above all, old men are dangerous, who have only the memory of things passed left them, and have lost the remembrance of their repetitions. I have heard some very pleasant reports become most irksome and tedious in the mouth of a certain Lord, forsomuch as all the bystanders had many times been cloyed with them. Secondly, (as said an ancient Writer) that, I do not so much remember injuries received. I had need have a prompter as Darius had, who not to forget the wrong he had received of the Athenians, whensoever he sat down at his table, caused a page to sing unto him, Sir, remember the Athenians, and that the places or books which I read-over, do ever smile upon me, with some new novelty. It is not without reason, mensay, that he who hath not a good and ready memory, should never meddle with telling of lies, and fear to become a liar. I am not ignorant how the Grammarians make a difference between speaking untrue and lying; and say that to speak untruly, is to speak that which is false, but was reputed true; and that the definition of the Latin word, mentiri, whence the French word, mentir, is derived, which in English is to lie, implieth and meaneth to go against ones conscience: and by consequence it concerneth only those, who speak contrary to that which they know, of whom I speak. Now these, either invent, seal, stamp and all, or else they disguise and change a true ground. When they disguise or change, if they be often put to the repetition of one thing, it is hard for them to keep still in one path, and very strange if they lose not themselves: because the thing, as it is, having first taken up her stand in the memory, and there by the way of knowledge and witting, imprinted itself, it were hard it should not represent itself to the imagination, displacing and supplanting falsehood, which therein can have no such footing, or settled fastness: and that the circumstances of the first learning, still diving into the mind, should not cause it to disperse the remembrance of all false or bastardising parts gotten together. Where they altogether invent, forsomuch as there is no certain impression, to front their falsehood, they seem to have so much the lesser fear to mistake or forget themselves, which also notwithstanding being an airy body, and without holdfast may easily escape the memory, except it be well assured: whereof I have often (to my no small pleasure) seen the experience, at the cost of those, who profess never to frame their speech, but as best shall fit the affairs they negotiate, and as best shall please the great men they speak unto. For the circumstances to which they will subject their credit and conscience, being subject to many changes, their speech must likewise diversify and change with them, whence it followeth that of one selfsame subject they speak diversely, as now yellow, now grey, to one man thus, and thus to another. And if peradventure these kind of men hoard-up their so contrary instructions, what becomes of this goodly art? Who beside, often most foolishly forget themselves, and run at random: For, what memory shall suffice them, to remember so many different forms they have framed to one same subject? I have in my days seen diverse that have envied the reputation of this worthy kind of wisdom, who perceive not, that if there be a reputation, there can be no effect. Verily, lying is an ill and detestablevice. Nothing makes us men, & no other means, keeps us bound one to another, but our word; knew we but the horror and weight of it, we would with fire and sword pursue and hate the same, and more justly than any other crime. I see all men generally busied (and that very improperly) to punish certain innocent errors in children, which have neither impression nor consequence, and chastise and vex them for rash and fond actions. Only lying, and stubborness somewhat more, are the faults whose birth and progress I would have severely punished and cut off; for they grow and increase with them: and if the tongue have once gotten this ill habit, good Lord how hard, nay how impossible it is to make her leave it? whereby it ensueth, that we see many very honest men in other matters, to be subject and enthralled to that fault. I have a good lad to my tailor, whom I never heard speak a truth; no not when it might stand him in stead of profit. If a lie had no more faces but one, as truth hath; we should be in far better terms than we are: For, whatsoever a li●r should say, we would take ●●● in a contrary sense. But the opposite of truth hath many many shapes, and an undefinite field. The Pythagoreans make good to be certain and ●●nite, and evil to be 〈◊〉 and uncertain. A thousand byways miss the mark, one only hits thesame. Surely I can never assure myself to come to a good end, to warrant an extreme and evident danger, by a shameless and solemnly. An ancient Father saith, We are better in the company of a known dog, than in a man's society, whose speech is unknown to us. V● externus al●ono non si● hominis vice. A stranger to a P●●n. ●a●. hist. l 7. c. 1. strange 〈…〉 not ●ake a man. And how much is a false speech less sociable than silence? King Francis the first, vaunted himself to have by this means brought Francis Taverna, Ambassador to Francis S●orz●, Duke of Milan to a non plus; a man very famous for his rare eloquence, and facility in speech, who had been dispatched to excuse his master, toward his Majesty, of a matter of great importance, which was this. The King to keep ever some intelligence in Italy, whence he had lately been expelled, but especially in the Dukedom of M●●ane, thought it expedient to entertain a Gentleman of his about the Duke; in effect as his Ambassador, but in appearance as a private man; who should make show to reside there about his particular affairs, forsomuch as the Duke, who depended much more of the Emperor (chiefly then that he was treating a marriage with his niece, daughter of the King of Denmark, who is at this day Dowager of Lorraine) could not without great prejudice unto himself discover to have any correspondency and conference with us. For which commission and purpose a Gentleman of Milan, named Merveille, then serving the King in place of one of the Quires of his Quierie, was deemed ●t. This man being dispached with secret letters of credence, and instructions of an Ambassador, together with other letters of commendation to the Duke in savour of his particular affairs, as a mask and pretence of his proceedings, continued so long about the Duke, that the Emperor began to have some suspicion of him; which as we suppose was cause of what ensued, which was, that under colour of a murder committed, the Duke one night caused the s●●d Merveille to be beheaded, having ended his process in two days. Master Francis b●●ng come to the Court, fraught with a long counterfeit deduction of this s●orie (for the King had addressed himself to all the Princes of Christendom, yea and to the Duke himself for justice, for such an outrage committed upon his servant) had one morning audience in the King's councel-chamber: who for the foundation of his cause having established and to that end projected many goodly and colourable apparences of the fact: namely, that the Duke his master, had never taken Merveille for other than a private gentleman, and his own subject, and who was come thither about his private business, where he had never lived under other name, protesting he had never known him to be one of the King's household, nor never heard of him, much less taken him for his Majesty's Agent. But the King urging him with diverse objections and demands, and charging him on every side, pr●st ●im so far with the execution done by night, and as it were by stealth, that the ●eely man, being much entangled and suddenly surprised, as if he would set an innocent face on the matter, answered, that for the love and respect of his Majesty, the Duke his Master, would have been very loath that such an execution should have been done by day. here every man may guess whether he were taken short or no, having tripped before so goodly a 〈…〉 as was that of our King Francis the first. Pope julius the second, having sent an Ambassador to the King of England to animate him against our foresaid King: the Ambassador having had audience touching his charge, and the King in his answer urging and insisting upon the difficulty he found & foresaw in levying such convenient forces, as should be required to withstand so mighty, and set upon so puissant a King, and alleging certain pe●●ment reasons: The Ambassador fond and unfitly replied, that himself had long before maturely considered them, and had told the Pope of them. By which answer so far from his proposition (which was with all speed, & without more circumstances to undertake and ungergoe a dangerous war) the King of England took hold of the first argument which in effect he afterward found true, which was, that the said Ambassador, in his own particular intent, was more affected to the French side, whereof advertising his master, his goods were all confiscate, himself disgraced, and he very hardly escaped with life. The tenth Chapter. Of ready or slow speech. One ne furent à tous toutes grace's donnes. All Gods good graces are not gone To all, or of all any one. So do we see that in the gift of eloquence, some have such a facility and promptitude, and that which we call utterance, so easy and at command, that at all assays, and upon every occasion, they are ready and provided; and others more slow, never speak any thing except much laboured and premeditated. As Ladies and dainty Dames are taught rules to take recreations and bodily exercises, according to the advantage of what they have fairest about them. If I were to give the like counsel, in those two different advantages of eloquence whereof Preachers and pleading lawyers of our age seem to make profession; the slow speaker in mine opinion should be the better preacher, and the other the better lawyer. For somuch as charge of the first allowes-him as much leisure as he pleaseth to prepare himself; moreover his career continueth still in one kind without interruption: whereas the Lawyer's occasions urging him still upon any accident to be ready to enter the lists: and the unexpected replies & answers of his advers party, do often divert him from his purpose, where he is enforced to take a new course. Yet isit, that at the last interview which was at Marseilles between Pope Clemens the seventh, and Francis the first, our King, it happened cleane-contrarie, where Monsieur Poyet, a man of chief reputation & all days of his life brought up to plead at the bar, whose charge being to make an Oration before the Pope, and having long time before premeditated and conned the same by rote, yea, & as some report, brought it with him ready-penned from Paris; the very same day it should have been pronounced; the Pope suspecting he might happily speak something, might offend the other Prince's Ambassadors, that were about him, sent the argument, which he at that time and place thought fittest to be treated of, to the king, but by fortune clean contrary to that which Poyet, had so much studied for: So that his Oration was altogether frustrate, and he must presently frame another. But he perceiving himself unable forit, the Cardinal Bellay was faineto supply his place and take that charge upon him. The Lawyer's charge is much harder than the Preachers: (yet in mine opinion) shall we find more passable Lawyers then commendable Preachers at least in France. It seemeth to be more proper to the mind, to have her operation ready & sudden, and more incident to the judgement, to have it slow and considerate. But who remaineth mute, if he have no leisure to prepare himself, and he likewise to whom leisure giveth no advantage to say better, are both in one self degree of strangeness. It is reported that Severus Cassius spoke better extempore, and without premeditation. That he was more beholding to fortune, then to his diligence; that to be interrupted in his speech redounded to his profit: & that his adversaries feared to urge-him, lest his sudden anger should redouble his eloquence. I know this condition of nature by experience, which cannot abide a vehement and laborious premeditation: except it hold a free, a voluntary, and self-pleasing course, it can never come to a good end. We commonly say of some compositions, that they smell of the oil, & of the lamp, by reason of a certain harshness, and rudeness, which long plodding labour imprints in them that be much elaborated. But besides the care of well-doing, and the contention of the mind, overstretched to her enterprise, doth break and impeach thesame; even as it happeneth unto water, which being closely pent-in, through its own violence and abundance, can not find issue at an open gullet. In this condition of nature, whereof I now speak, this also is joined unto it, that it desireth not to be pricked forward by these strong passions, as the anger of Cassius (for that motion would be over-rude) it ought not to be violently shaken, but yeeldingly solicited: it desireth to be roused and pricked forward by strange occasions, both present and casual. If it go all-alone, it doth but languish and loiter behind: agitation is her life and grace. I cannot well contain myself in mine own possession and disposition, chance hath more interest in it than myself; occasion, company, yea the change of my voice, draws more from my mind than I can find therein, when by myself I second and endeavour to employ the same. My words likewise are better than my writings, if choice may be had in so worthless things. This also happeneth unto me, that where I seek myself, I find not myself: and I find myself more by chance, than by the search of mine own judgement. I shall perhaps have cast-foorth some subtlety in writing, happily dull and harsh for another, but sinooth and curious for myself. Let us leave all these compliments and quaintness. That is spoken by every man, according to his own strength. I have so lost it, that I wot not what I would have said, and strangers have sometimes found it before me. Had I always a razor about me, where that happeneth, I should clean raze myself out. Fortune may at some other time make the light thereof appear brighter unto me, than that of midday, and will make me wonder at mine own faltering or sticking in the mire. The eleventh Chapter. Of Prognostications. As touching Oracles it is very certain, that long before the coming of our Saviour jesus Christ, they had begun to lose their credit: for we see that Cicero laboureth Ci●. divin. lib. 2. to find the cause of their declination: and these be his words: Cur isto modo iam oracula Delphis non eduntur non modo nostra aetate, sediamdiu, ut nihil possit esse contemptius? Why in like sort are not Oracles now uttered, not only in our times, but a good while since, so as now nothing can be more contemptible? But as for other Prognostikes, that were drawn from the anatomy of beasts in sacrifice, to which Plato doth in some sort ascribe the natural constitution of the internal members of them, of the scraping of chickens, of the sight of birds, Aves quasdam Id. nat. deo●. rerum augurandarum causa natas esse putamus. We are of opinion, certain birds were even bred to prognosticate some things; of thunders, of turnings and backe-recourse of rivers. Multa cernunt Id. ib. l. ●. aruspices: multa augurs provident: multa oraculis declarantur: multa vaticinationibus: multa s●●nnijs: multa portentis. Soothsayers see much: bird-prophets foore-see as much: much is foretold by Oracles; much by prophecies; much by dreams; much by portentous signs, and others, upon which antiquity grounded most of their enterprises, as well public as private: our religion hath abolished them. And albeit there remain yet amongst us some means of divination in the stars, in spirits, in shapes of the body, in dreams, and elsewhere a notable example of the mad and found curiosity of our nature, ammusing itself to preoccupate future things, as if it had not enough to do to digest the present. Luca●. lib. 2. 4. — cur hanc tibirector Olympi Sollicitis visum mort alibus addere curam, Noscant venture as ut dira per omnia clades? Sit subitum quodcunque paras, sit caeca futuri 14. Mens heminum fati, liceat sperare timenti. Why pleased it thee, thou ruler of the spheres, To add this care to mortals care-cloged mind, That they their misery know, ere it appears? Let thy drifts sudden come; let men be blind Towards future fate: oh let him hope that fears. Ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit: Miserum est enim nihil preficientem angi. It is not Cic. nat. Deor. lib. 3. so much as profitable for us, to know what is to come, for it is a miserable thing, a man should fret and be vexed, and do no good. Yet is it of much less authority, lo here wherefore the example of Francis Marquis of Saluzzo hath seemed remarkable unto me: who being Lieutenant General unto Francis our King, and over all his forces, which he then had beyond the Mountains in Italy, a man highly favoured in all our court, and otherwise infinitely beholding to the King for that very Marquisate, which his brother had forfeited: and having no occasion to do it, yea and his mind and affections contradicting the same, suffered himself to be frighted and deluded (as it hath since been manifestly proved) by the fond prognostications, which then throughout all Europe were given out to the advantage of the Emperor Charles the fifth, and to our prejudice and disadvantage (but specially in Italy, where these foolish predictions had so much possessed the Italians, that in Rome were laid great wagers, and much money given out upon the exchange, that we should utterly be overthrown) that after he had much condoled, yea and complained with his secret friends, the unavoidable miseries, which he foresaw prepared by the fates against the Crown of France, and the many friends he had there, he unkindly revolted, and became a turne-cote on the Emperor's ●●de, to his intolerable loss and destruction, notwithstanding all the constellations then reigning. But was drawn unto it as a man encompassed and beset by diverse passions; for having both strong castles, and all manner of munition and strength in his own hands, the enemy's army under Antonio L●va about three paces from him, and we nothing mistrusting him, it was in his power to do worse than he did. For notwithstanding his treason we lost neither man nor town, except Fossan: which long after was by us stoutly contested and defended. Prudens futuri temporis exitum Hor. li. 3. ●d. 2●. 29. Caliginosâ nocte premit Deus, Ridétque, si mortalis ultra. Fas trepida.— Ourwise God hides in pitch dark night Of future time th'event decreed, And laughs at man, if man affright Fear more, than he to fear hathneed. Ille potens sui Laetúsque deget, cuilicet in diem Dixisse, vixi, cras vel atrâ 41. Nube pol●m pater occupato, Vel sole puro. He of himself lives merrily, Who each day, I have lied, can say, To morrow let God charge the sky With dark clouds, or fair sun-shine-ray. Laetus in praesens animus, quod ultra est, Oderit curare. Ib. 2. od. 16. 25. For present time a merry mind Hates to respect what is behind. And those which take this word in a contrary sense are in the wrong. Ista sic reciprocantur, Cic. divi. l. 1. ●. ut & si divinatio sit, dij sint: & dij sint, sit divinatio. This consequence is so reciprocal, as if there be any divination, there are Gods: and if there be Gods, there is divination. Much more wisely Pacuvius. Nam ist is qui linguam anium intelligunt, Ib. ●. Pac. Plúsque ex alieno i●cere sapiunt, quam ex suo, Magis audiendum, quam auscult andum censeo. Who understand what language birds express, By their own, than beastes-livers knowing less, They may be heard, not hearkned-to, I guess. This so famous art of divination of the Tuskanes grew thus. A husbandman digging very deep into the ground, with his ploughshare, saw Tages, a demigod appear out of it, with an infantine face, yet fraught with an aged-like wisdom. All men ran to seehim, and both his words and knowledge were for many ages-after remembered, and collected, containing the principles and means of this art. An offspring suitable to her progress. I would rather direct affairs by the chance of dice, then by such frivolous dreams. And truly in all commonwealths, men have ever ascribed much authority unto lot. Plate in the policy which he imagineth by discretion, ascribeth the deciding of many important effects unto it, and amongst other things would have marriages between the good to be contrived by lot. And giveth so large privileges unto this casual election, that he appoints the children proceeding from them to be brought up in the country; and those borne of the bad to be banished and sent abroad. Notwithstanding if any of those so exiled shall by fortune happen, whilst he is growing, to show some good hope of himself, that he may be revoked and sent-for back, and such amongst the first as shall in their youth give small hope of future good to be banished. I see some that study, plod, and gloss their Almanacs, and in all accidents allege their authority. A man were as good to say, they must needs speak truth and lies. Quis est enim qui totum diem iaculans, non aliquando conlineet? Cic. diu. lib. 2. For who is he that shooting all day, sometimes hits not the white? I think not the better of them, though what they say prove sometimes true. It were more certain, if there were either a rule or a truth to lie ever. Seeing no man recordeth their fables, because they are ordinary and infinite; and their predictions are made to be of credit, because they are rare, incredible and prodigious. So answered Diagoras surnamed the Atheist (being in Samothrace) to him, who in showing him diverse vows and offerings hanging in the Temple, brought thither by such as had escaped shipwreck, said thus unto him: You that think the Gods to have no care of human things, what say you by so many men saved by their grace and help? Thus is it done, answered he: Those which were drowned far exceeding their number, are not here setforth. Cicero saith, That amongst all other Philosophers that have avowed & acknowledged the Gods, only Xenophanes, the Colophonian hath gone about to root out all manner of divination. It is so much the less to bewondred at, if at any time we have seen some of our Prince's minds to their great damage, rely upon such like vanities. I would to God, I had with mine own eyes seen those two wonders, mentioned in the book of joachin the Abbot of Calabria, who foretold all the Popes that should ensue, together with their names and shapes: And that of Leo the Emperor, who forespoke all the Emperors and patriarchs of Greece. This have I seen with mine own eyes, that in public confusions, men amazed at their own fortune, give themselves headlong, as it were to all manner of superstition, to search in heaven the causes and ancient threats of their ill-luck; and in my time are so strangely successful therein, as they have persuaded me, that it is an ammusing of sharp and idle wits, that such as are enured to this subtlety, by folding and unfolding them, may in all other writings be capable to find out what they seeke-after. But above all, their dark, ambiguous, fantastical, and prophetical gibberish, mends the matter much, to which their authors never give a plain sense, that posterity may apply what meaning and construction it shall please unto it. The Daemon of Socrates was peradventure a certain impulsion or will, which without the advice of his discourse presented itself unto him. In a mind so well purified, and by continual exercise of wisdom and virtue so well prepared, as his was, it is likely, his inclinations (though rash and inconsiderate) were ever of great moment, and worthy to be followed. Every man feeleth in himself some image of such agitations, of a prompt, vehement and casual opinion. It is in me to give them some authority, that afford so little to our wisdom. And I have had some, equally weak in reason, and violent in persuasion and dissuasion (which was more ordinary to Socrates) by which I have so happily and so profitably suffered myself to be transported, as they might perhaps be thought to contain some matter of divine inspiration. The twelfth Chapter. Of Constancy. The law of resolution and constancy implieth not, we should not, as-much as lieth in our power shelter ourselves from the mischiefs and inconveniences that threaten-us, nor by consequence fear, they should surprise-us. chose, all honest means for a man to warrant himself from evils, are not only tolerable, but commendable. And the part of constancy is chiefly acted, in firmly bearing the inconveniences, against which no remedy is to be sound. So that, there is no nimbleness of body, nor wealding of hand-weapons, that we will reject, if it may in any sort defendus from the blow, meant atus. Many most warlike nations in their conflicts and fights, used retreating and flight as a principal advantage, and showed their backs to their enemy much more dangerously than their faces. The Turks at this day retain something of that humour. And Socrates in Plato doth mock at Laches, because he had defined fortitude, to keep herself steady in her rank against her enemies; What, saith he, were it then cowardice to beat them in giving them place? And allegeth Homer against him, who commendeth in Aencas his skill in flying and giving ground. And because Laches being better advised, avoweth that custom to be amongst the Scythians, and generally amongst all horsemen, he allegeth further unto him the example of the Lacedaemonian footmen (a nation above all other used to fight on foot) who in the battle of Plateae, unable to open and to put to rout the Persian Phalanx, advised themselves to scatter and put themselves back, that so by the opinion of their sight, they might if they should pursue them, rush in upon them, and put that so combined-masse to rout. By which means they gained the victory. Touching the Scythians, it is reported, that when Darius went to subdue them, he sent their King many reproachful speeches, for so much as he ever saw him retire and give ground before him, and to avoid the main battle. To whom Indathirsez (for so was his name) answered, that, They did it not for fear of him, nor any other man living, but that it was the fashion of his nation to march thus: as having neither cities, nor houses, nor manured land to defend, or to fear their enemies should reap any commodity by them. But if he had so great a desire to feed on them, he might draw nearer to view the place of their ancient sepulchres, and there he should meet with whom to speak his bellyful. Notwithstanding when a man is once within reach of cannon-shot, and as it were pointblank before them, as the fortune of war doth divers times bring men unto, it ill beseemeth a resolute mind to start-aside, or be daunted, at the threat of a shot, because by the violence and suddenness thereof we deem it inevitable: and there are some, who by lifting up of a hand, or stooping their head, have sometimes given their fellows cause of laughter: yet have we seen, that in the voyage, the Emperor Charles the fifth made against us in Provence, the Marquis of Guasto, being gone out to survey the city of Arles, and shown himself out of a windmill, under colour of which he was come somewhat near the Town, he was discovered by the Lord of Bonevall, and the Seneschal of Agenois, who were walking upon the Theatre Aux arenes (so called in French because it is full of sand) who showing him to the Lord of Villiers, Commissarie of the Artillery, he mounted a culuérin so level, that had not the Marquis perceived the fire, and so started aside, it was constantly affirmed, he had been shot through the body. Likewise not many years before, Lorence of Medicis, Duke of Urbin, and father to the Queen-mother of France, besieging Mondolphe, a place in Italy, in the province name Vicariate, seeing fire given to a piece that stood upright upon him, stooped his head, and well befell him that he played the duck, for otherwise the bullet, which went right over, and within a little of his head, had doubtless shot him through the paunch. But to say truth, I will never think these motions were made with discourse, for what judgement can you give of an aim, either high or low in a matter so sudden? It may rather be thought that fortune favoured their fear: and which an other time might as well be a mean to make them fall into the cannons-mouth, as to avoid the same. I cannot choose, if the crack of a musket do suddenly streeke mine ears, in a place where I lest look for it, but I must needs start at-it: which I have seen happen to men of better sort than myself. Nor do the Stoics mean, that the Soul of their wisest man in any sort resist the first visions and sudden fantasies, that surprise the same: but rather consent that, as it were unto a natural subjection, he yields and shrinks unto the loud clattering and roar of heaven, or of some violent downfall; for example-sake, unto paleness, and contraction. So likewise in other passions, always provided, his opinion remains safe and whole, and the situation of his reason, admit no tainting or alteration whatsoever: and he no whit consent to his fright and sufferance. Touching the first part; the same happeneth to him, that is not wise, but far otherwise concerning the second. For the impression of passions doth not remain superficial in him: but rather penetrates even into the secret of reason, infecting and corrupting the same. He judgeth according to them, and conformeth himself to them. Consider precisely the state of the wise Stoic: Mens immota manet, lachrymae volvuntur inanes. Virg. A●n. lib. 4. 449. His mind doth firm remain, Tears are distilled in vain. The wise Peripatetic doth not exempt himself from perturbations of the mind, but doth moderate them. The thirteenth Chapter. Of Ceremonies in the interview of Kings. THere is no subject so vain, that deserveth not a place in this rhapsody. It were a notable discourtesy unto our common rules, both towards an equal, but more toward a great person, not to meet with you in your house, if he have once warned you that he will come: And Margaret Queen of Navarre, was wont to say to this purpose, That it was a kind of incivility in a gentleman, to depart from his house, as the fashion is, to meet with him that is coming to him, how worthy soever he be: and that it more agreeth with civility and respect, to stay for him at home, and there to entertain him: except it were for fear the stranger should miss his way: and that it suffioeth to company and wait upon him, when he is going away again. As for me, I oftentimes forget both these vain offices; as one that endeavoureth to abolish all manner of ceremonies in my house. Some will be offended at it, what can I do withal? I had rather offend a stranger once, than myself every day; for it were a continual subjection. To what end do men avoid the servitude of Courts, and entertain the same in their own houses? Moreover it is a common rule in all assemblies, that he who is the meaner man, cometh first to the place appointed, forsomuch as it belongs to the better man to be staid-for, and waited upon by the other. Nevertheless we saw that at the interview, prepared at Merceilles between Pope Clement the seventh, and Francis the first, King of France, the King having appointed all necessatie preparations, went himself out of the Town, and gave the Pope two or three dayes-leasure, to make his entry into it, and to refresh himself, before he would come to meet him there. Likewise at the meeting of the said Pope with the Emperor at Bologna, the Emperor gave the Pope advantage and leisure to be first there, and afterward came himself. It is (say they) an ordinary ceremony at enterparlies between such Princes, that the better man should ever come first to the place appointed; yea before him in whose country the assembly is: and they take it in this sense, that it is, because this complement should testify, he is the better man, whom the meaner goeth to seek, and that he sueth unto him. Not only each country, but every City, yea and every vocation hath his own particular decorum. I have every carefully been brought up in mine infancy, and have lived in very good company, because I would not be ignorant of the good manners of our country of France, and I am persuaded I might keep a school of them. I love to follow them, but not so cowardly, as my life remain thereby in subjection. They have some painful forms in them, which if a man forget by discretion, and not by error, he shall no whit be disgraced. I have often seen men prove unmannerly by too much manners, and importunate by overmuch courtesy. The knowledge of entertainment is otherwise a profitable knowledge. It is, as grace and beauty are, the reconciler of the first accoasting of society and familiarity: and by consequence, it openeth the entrance to instruct us by the example of others, and to exploit and produce our example, if it have any instructing or communicable thing in it. The fourteenth Chapter. Men are punished by toomuch opiniating themselves in a place without reason. VAlour hath his limits, as other virtues have: which if a man outgo, he shall find himself in the train of vice: in such sort, that unless a man know their right bounds, which in truth are not on a sudden, easily hit upon, he may fall into rashness, obstinacy, and folly. For this consideration grew the custom we hold in wars, to punish, and that with death, those who wilfully opiniate themselves to defend a place, which by the rules of war, cannot be kept. Otherwise upon hope of impunity, there should be no cottage, that might not entertain an Army. The Lord Constable Momorancie at the siege of Pavia, having been appointed to pass over the river T●si●e, and to quarter himself in the suburbs of Saint Antony, being impeached by a tower, that stood at the end of the bridge, and which obstinately would needs hold out, yea and to be battered, caused all those that were within it, to be hanged. The same man afterward, accompanying my Lord the Dolphin of France in his journey beyond the Alps, having by force taken the castle of Villain, and all those that were within the same, having by the ●urie of the Soldiers been put to the sword, except the Captain, and his Ancient, for the same reason, caused them both to be hanged and strangled: As did also, Captain Martin du Bellay, the Governor of Turin, in the same country, the Captain of Saint Bony: all the rest of his men having been massacred at the taking of the place. But for somuch as the judgement of the strength or weakness of the place, is taken by the estimate and counterpoise of the forces that assail it (for some man might justly opinionate himself against two culverins, that would play the madman to expect thirty cannons) where also the greatness of the Prince conquering must be considered, his reputation, and the respect that is due unto him: there is danger a man should somewhat bend the balance on that side. By which terms it happeneth, that some have so great an opinion of themselves, and their means, and deeming it unreasonable, any thing should be worthy to make head against them, that so long as their fortune continueth, they overpass what hill or difficulty soever they find to withstand or resist them: As is seen by the forms of sommoning, and challenges, that the Princes of the East, and their successors yet remaining have in use, so fierce, so haughty, and so full of a barbarous kind of commandment. And in those places where the Portugals abated the pride of the Indians, they found some states observing this universal and inviolable law, that what enemy soever he be, that is overcome by the King in person, or by his Lieutenant, is exempted from all composition of ransom or mercy. So above all, a man who is able should take heed, lest he fall into the hands of an enemie-judge, that is victorious and armed. The fifteenth Chapter. Of the punishment of cowardice I Have heretofore heard a Prince, who was a very great Captain, hold opinion, that a soldier might not for cowardice of heart be condemned to death: who sitting at his table heard report of the Lord of Veruins sentence, who for yielding up of bolein, was doomed to lose his head. Verily there is reason a man should make a difference between faults proceeding from our weakness, and those that grow from our malice. For in the latter we are directly bandied against the rules of reason, which nature hath imprinted in us; and in the former it seemeth, we may call the same nature, as a warrant, because it hath left-us in such imperfection and defect. So as diverse nations have judged, that no man should blame us for any thing we do against our conscience. And the opinion of those which condemn heretics and miscreants unto capital punishments, is partly grounded upon this rule: and the same which establisheth, that a judge or an advocate may not be called to account for any matter committed in their charge through oversight or ignorance. But touching cowardice, it is certain, the common fashion is, to punish the same with ignominy and shame. And some hold that this rule was first put in practice by the Lawgiver Charondas, and that before him the laws of Greece were wont to punish those with death, who for fear did run away from a Battle: where he only ordained, that for three days together, clad in women's attire, they should be made to sit in the marketplace: hoping yet to have some service at their hands, and by means of this reproach, they might recover their courage again. Suffundere malis hominis sanguinem quam effundere: Rather move a man's blood to blush in his face, than remove it by bleeding from his body. It appeareth also that the Roman laws did in former times punish such as had runaway, by death. For Animianus Marcellinus reporteth, that julian the Emperor condemned ten of his Soldiers, who in a charge against the Parthians, had but turned their backs from it; first to be degraded, & then to suffer death, as he saith according to the ancient laws, who nevertheless, condemneth others for a like fault, under the ensign of bag and baggage to be kept amongst the common prisoners. The sharp punishment of the Romans against those Soldiers that escaped from Cannae: and in the same war, against those that accompanied Ca Fuluius in his defeat, reached not unto death, yet may a man fear, such open shame may make them despair, and not only prove faint and cold friends, but cruel and sharp enemies. In the time of our forefathers, the Lord of Franget, Whilom Lieutenant of the Marshal of chastilions company, having by the Marshal of Chabanes been placed Governor of Fontarabie, instead of the Earl of Lude, and having yielded the same unto the Spaniards, was condemned to be degraded of all Nobility, and not only himself, but all his succeeding posterity declared villains and clowns, taxable and incapable to bear arms; which severe sentence was put in execution at Lions. The like punishment did afterward all the Gentlemen suffer, that were within Guise, when the Earl of Nansaw entered the town: and others since. Nevertheless if there were so gross an ignorance, and so apparent cowardice, as that it should exceed all ordinary, it were reason it should be taken for a sufficient proof of inexcusable treachery, and knavery, and for such to be punished. The sixteenth Chapter. A trick of certain Ambassadors. IN all my travels I did ever observe this custom, that is, always to learn something by the communication of others (which is one of the bests schools that may be) to reduce those I confer withal, to speak of that wherein they are most conversant and skilful. Basti all nochiero ragionar de'venti, Idem Propert. l. 2. d. 1. 43. Albifolco de'●ori, & lesue piaghe Conti ill guerrier, conti il pastor gl' armenti. Sailors of winds ploughmen of beasts take keep, Let Soldiers count their wounds, shepherds their sheep. For commonly we see the contrary, that many choose rather to discourse of any other trade than their own; supposing it to be so much new reputation gotten: witness the quip Archidamus gave Periander saying that he forsook the credit of a good Physician, to become a paltry Poet. Note but how Caesar displaieth his invention at large, when he would have us conceive his inventions how to build bridges, and devises, how to frame other warlike engines; and in respect of that how close and succinct he writes, when he speaketh of the offices belonging to his profession, of his valour, and of the conduct of his warrefare. His exploits prove him a most excellent Captain, but he would be known for a skilful Ingenier, a quality somewhat strange in him. Dionysius the elder was a very great chieftain and Leader in war, as a thing best sitting his fortune: but he greatly laboured, by means of Poetry, to assume high commendation unto himself, howbeit he had but little skill in it. A certain Lawyer was not long since brought to see a study, stored with all manner of books, both of his own, and of all other faculties, wherein he found no occasion to entertain himself withal, but like a fond cunning clerk earnestly busied himself to gloss and censure a fence or barricado, placed over the screw of the study, which a hundred Captains and Soldiers see every day, without observing, or taking offence at them. Optat ephippia b●s piger, optat arare caballus. Hor. lib. 1. epist. 14. 43. The Ox would trappings wear, The Horse, ploughs-yoake would bear. By this course you never come to perfection, or bring any thing to good pass. Thus must a man indevor to induce the Architect, the Painter, the Shoemaker to speak of their own trade, and so of the rest, every man in his vocation. And to this purpose am I wont, in reading of histories (which is the subject of most men) to consider who are the writers: If they be such as profess nothing but bare learning, the chief thing I learn in them, is their style, and language: if Physicians: I believe them in whatsoever they shall report concerning the temperateness of the air, the health and complexion of Princes, or of hurts and infirmities: If Lawyers, we should observe the controversies of rights, titles, and pretences of laws and customs, the establishments of policies, and such like things: If Divines, we may note the affairs of the Church, the Ecclesiastical censures, dispensations, cases of conscience, and marriages: If Courtiers, manners, compliments, ceremonies, and entertainments: if Warriors, what belongs unto their charge, but chiefly the managing and conduct of the achievements or exploits wherein they have been themselves in person: If Ambassadors, the negotiations, intelligences, practices, policies, and manner how to direct, complot, and conduct them. And therefore, what in an other Writer I should peradventure have cursory passed over, I have with some advisedness considered and marked the same in the history of the Lord of Langey, a man most expert, and intelligent in such matters: which is, that after he had exactly set down and declared those glorious, and far-fetched remonstrances of the Emperor Charles the fifth made in the consistory of Rome, in the presence of the Bishop of Mascon, and the Lord of Velly, our Ambassadors; wherein he intermixed many bitter and outrageous words against us; and amongst others, that if his Captains and Soldiers were not of much more faithfulness, and sufficiency in the art of war, than our Kings, he would forthwith tie a rope about his neck, and go ask him mercy: whereof he seemed to believe some thing: for afterward whilst he lived, he chanced twice or thrice to utter the very same words. Moreover, that he had challenged the king to fight with him, man to man in his shirt, with Rapier and Dagger in a boat. The said Lord of Langey, following his story, addeth that the said Ambassadors making a dispatch of what had passed unto the king, dissembled the chiefest part unto him, yea and concealed the two precedent articles from him. Now me thought it very strange, that it should lie in the power of an Ambassador to dispense with any point, concerning the advertisements he should give unto his Master, namely of such consequence, coming from such a person, and spoken in so great an assembly, whereas me seemed it should have been the office of a trusty servant, truly and exactly to set down things as they were, and in what manner they had succeeded: to the end the liberty of disposing, judging and choosing, might wholly lie in the master. For, to alter and conceal the truth from him, for fear he should construe and take it otherwise than he ought, and le●t that might provoke him to some bad resolution; and in the mean while to suffer him to be ignorant of his own affairs, me thought should rather have appertained to him, that giveth the law, than to him that receiveth the same; to the Master or overseer of the school, and not to him who should think himself inferior, as well in authority, as in wisdom and good counsel. Howsoever it were, I would be loath to be so used in mine own small and particular business, we do so willingly upon every slight occasion and pretence neglect and forego commandment, and are so far from obeying, that we rather usurp a kind of mastery, and free power: every man doth so naturally aspire unto liberty and authority, that no profit ought to be so dear unto a superior, proceeding from those that serve him, as their simple and natural obedience. Whosoever obeyeth by discretion, and not by subjection, corrupteth and abuseth the office of commanding. And P. Crassus he whom the Romans deemed five times happy, when he was Consul in Asia, having sent a Grecian Engineer, to bring the greatest of two ship-masts before him, which he had seen in Athens, therewith to frame an engine of battery: This man under colour of his skill, presumed to do otherwise than he was bidden, and brought the lesser of the two masts which according to his art's reason he deemed the fittest. Crassus' having patiently heard his reasons and allegations, caused him to be well whipped; preferring the interest of true discipline, before that of the work. On the other side a man might also consider, that this so strict obedience, belongs but to precise and prefixed commandments. Ambassadors have a more scopefull and free charge, which in many points dependeth chiefly of their disposition. They do not merely execute, but frame and direct by their own advice and council, the will of their Master. I have in my days seen some persons of commandment, checked and found fault withal, because they had rather obeyed the literal sense, and bare words of the King's letters, than the occasions of the affairs they had in hand. Men of understanding and experience do yet at this day condemn the custom of the Kings of Persia, which was to mince the instructions given to their Agents, and Lieutenants so small, that in the least accident they might have recourse to their directions and ordinances: This delay, in so farre-reaching a scope of domination, having often brought great prejudice, and notable damage unto their affairs. And Crassus writing unto a man of that profession, and advertising him of the use whereto he purposed the foresaid mast; seemeth he not to enter into conference with him concerning his determination, and wish him to interpose his censure or advise of it. The seventeenth Chapter. Of fear. Obstupui, steterùntque comae, & vox faucibus haesit. Virg. A●n. lib. ●. 77●. I stood aghast, my hair on end, My jaw-tide tongue no speech would lend. I Am no good Naturalist (as they say) and I know not well by what springs fear doth work in us: but well I wot it is a strange passion: and as Physicians say, there is none doth sooner transport our judgement out of his due seat. Verily I have seen diverse become mad and senseless for fear: yea and in him, who is most settled, and best resolved, it is certain that whilst his fit continueth, it begetteth many strange dazelings, and terrible amazements in him. I omit to speak of the vulgar sort, to whom it sometimes representeth strange apparitions, as their fathers and grandfathers ghosts, risen out of their graves, and in their winding sheets: and to others it sometimes showeth Larves, Hobgoblins Robbin-good-fellowes, and such other bugbeares and chimeras. But even amongst Soldiers, with whom it ought to have no credit at all, how often hath she changed a flock of sheep into a troop of armed men? Bushes and shrubs into mens-at-arme and lancers? our friends into our enemies? and a red cross into a white? At what time the Duke of Bourbon took Rome, an Ancient that kept sentinel, in the borough Saint Peter, was at the first alarm surprised with such terror, that with his colours in his hand, he suddenly threw himself through the hole of a breach out of the City, and fell just in the midst of his enemies, supposing the way to go strait in the hart of the City: but in the end, he no sooner perceived the Duke of Bourbon's troops, advancing to withstand him, imagining it to be some sally the Citizens made that way, he better be-thinking himself, turned head, and the very same way, he came out, he went into the town again, which was more than three hundred paces distance towards the fields. The like happened, but not so successfully unto Captain julius-his ensign-baerer at what time Saint Paul was taken from us by the Earl of Bures, and the Lord of Reu, who was so frighted with fear, that going about to cast himself over the town walls, with his Ancient in his hand, or to creep through a spike-hole, he was cut in pieces by the assailants. At which siege likewise, that horror and fear is very memorable, which so did choke, seize upon, and freeze the hart of a gentleman, that having received no hurt at all, he fell down starke-dead upon the ground before the breach. The like passion rage doth sometimes possess a whole multitude. In one of the encounters that Germanicus had with the Germans, two mighty troops were at one instant so frighted with fear, that both betook themselves to their heels, and ran away two contrary ways, the one right to that place whence the other fled. It sometimes addeth wings unto our heels, as unto the first named, and other times it takes the use of feet from us: as we may read if Theophilus the Emperor, who in a battle he lost against the Agarenes, was so amazed and astonished, that he could not resolve to scape away by flight: adeò pavor etiam auxilia formidat: Fear is so afraid even of that should help. Until such time as Manuel, one of the chief leaders in his army, having roused and shaken him, as it were out of a dead sleep, said unto him, Sir, if you will not presently follow me, I will surely kill you, for better were it you should lose your life, than being taken prisoner, lose your Empire and all. Then doth she show the utmost of her power, when for her own service, she casts us off unto valour, which it hath exacted from our duty and honour. In the first set battle, the Romans lost against Hannibal, under the Consul Sempronius, a troop of well-nigh ten thousand footmen, was so surprised with fear, that seeing no other way to take, nor by what other course to give their baseness free passage, they headlong bent their flight toward the thickest and strongest squadron of their enemies, which with such fury it routed and broke through, as it disranked, and slew a great number of the Carthaginians: purchasing a reproachful and disgraceful flight, at the same rate it might have gained a most glorious victory. It is fear I stand most in fear of. For, in sharpness it surmounteth all other accidents. What affection can be more violent and just than that of Pompey's friends, who in his own ship were spectators of that horrible massacre? yet is it, that the fear of the Egyptian sails, which began to approach them, did in such sort daunt and scare them, that some have noted, they only busied themselves to hasten the mariners, to make what speed they could, and by main strength of oars to save themselves, until such time, as being arrived at tire, and that they were free from fear, they had leisure to bethink themselves, of their late loss, and give their plaints and tears free passage, which this other stronger passion had suspended and hindered. Tum pavor sapientiam omnem mihi ex animo expectorat. 1. Ci●. Tusc. q. li. 4. ex E●●. de Orat. l. 3. Fear then unbreasts all wit, That in my mind did ●it. Those who in any skirmish or sudden bickering of war have been thoroughly scared, sorehurt, wounded, and gored as they be, are many times the next day after, brought to charge again. But such as have conceived a true fear of their enemies, it is hard for you to make them look them in the face again. Such as are in continual fear to lose their goods, to be banished, or to besubdued, live in uncessant agony and languor; and thereby often loose both their drinking, their eating, and their rest. Whereas the poor, the banished, and silly servants, live often as carelessly and as pleasantly as the other. And so many men, who by the impatience and urging of fear, have hanged, drowned, and head long tumbled down from some rock, have plainly taught us, that fear is more importunate and intolerable than death. The Grecians acknowledge an other kind of it, which is beyond the error of our discourse: proceeding, as they say, without any apparent cause, and from an heavenly impulsion. Whole Nations and Armies are often seen surprised with it. Such was that, which brought so wonderful a desolation to Carthage, where nothing was heard but lamentable outcries, and frightful exclamations: the inhabitants were seen desperately to run out of their houses, as to a sudden alarm, and furiously to charge, hurt, and ent●●▪ kill one another; as if they had been enemies come to usurp and possess their City. All things were there in a disordered confusion, and in a confused fury, until such time as by prayers and sacrifices, they had appeased the wrath of their Gods. They call it to this day, the Panike terror. ●●as. chil. 2. cent. 10. ad. 19 chil. 3. ce●. 7. ad. 3. The eighteenth Chapter. That we should not judge of our happiness, until after our death. — scilicet ultima semper Expectanda dies homini est, dicique beatus O●id. M●●. lib. 3. 235. Ante obitum nemo, supremáqué funera deb●t. We must expect of man the latest day, Nor ere he die, he's happy, can we say. THe very children are acquainted with the story of Croesus to this purpose: who being taken by Cyrus, & by him condemned to die, upon the point of his execution, cried out aloud: Oh Solon, Solon! which words of his, being reported to Cyrus, who enquiring what he meant by them, told him, he now at his own cost verified the advertisement Solon had before times given him: which was, that no man, what cheerful & blandishing countenance soever fortune showed them, may rightly deem himself happy, till such time as he have passed the last day of his life, by reason of the uncertainty and vicissitude of human things, which by a very light motive, and slight occasion, are often changed from one to another clean contrary state and degree. And therefore Agesilaus answered one that counted the King of Persia happy, because being very young, he had gotten the garland of so mighty and great a dominion: yea but said he, Priam at the same age was not unhappy. Of the Kings of Macedon, that succeeded Alexander the great, some were afterward seen to become joiners and Scriveners at Rome: and of Tyrants of Sicily, Schoolmasters at Corinth: One that had conquered half the world, and been Emperor over so many Armies, became an humble, and miserable suitor to the rascally officers of a king of Egypt: At so high a rate did that great Pompey purchase the irksome prolonging of his life but for five or six months. And in our father's days, Lodowick Sforce, tenth Duke of Milan, under whom the state of Italy had so long been turmoiled and shaken, was seen to die a wretched prisoner at Loches in France, but not till he had lived and lingered ten years in thraldom, which was the worst of his bargain. The fairest Queen, wife to the greatest King of Christendom, was she not lately seen to die by the hands of an executioner? Oh unworthy and barbarous cruelty! And a thousand such examples. For, it seemeth that as the sea-billowes and surging waves, rage and storm against the surly pride, and stubborn height of our buildings. So is there above, certain spirits that envy the rising prosperities and greatness here below. Vsque adeò res humanas res abdita quaedam L●●ret. lib. 5. 12. 43. Obterit, & pulchros fasces sauásque secures Proculcare, ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur. A hidden power so men's states hath out worn Fair sword, fierce sceptres, signs of honours borne, It seems to trample and deride in scorn. And it seemeth Fortune doth sometimes narrowly watch the last day of our life, thereby to show her power, and in one moment to overthrow, what for many years together she had been erecting, and makes us cry after Laberius, Nimirum hac die una plus vixi, mihi quam vivendum fuit. Thus it is, I have lived longer by this one day, than I should. So may that good advice of Solon be taken with reason. But for somuch as he is a Philosopher, with whom the favours or disfavours of fortune, and good or ill luck have no place, and are not regarded by him; and puissances and greatnesses, and accidents of quality, are well nigh indifferent: I deem it very likely he had a further reach, and meant that the same good fortune of our life, which dependeth of the tranquility and contentment of a well-born mind, and of the resolution and assurance of a well ordered soul, should never be ascribed unto man, until he have been seen play the last act of his comedy, and without doubt the hardest. In all the rest there may bosom mask: either these sophistical discourses of Philosophy are not in us but by countenance, or accidents that never touch us to the quick, give us always leisure to keep our countenance settled. But when that last part of death, and of ourselves comes to be acted, than no dissembling will avail, then is it high time to speak plain english, and put off all vizards: than whatsoever the pot containeth must be shown, be it good or bad, foul or clean, wine or water. Nam verae voces tum demum pectore ab imo L●●res. lib. 3. 57 Eijciuntur, & eripitur persona, manet res. For then are sent true speeches from the heart, We are ourselves, we leave to play a part. Lo here, why at this last cast, all our lives other actions must be tried and touched. It is the master-day, the day that judgeth all others: it is the day, saith an ancient Writer, that must judge of all my forepast years. To death do I refer the essay of my studies fruit. There shall we see whether my discourse proceed from my heart, or from my mouth. I have seen diverse, by their death, either in good or evil, give reputation, to all their forepast life. Scipio, father in law to Pompey, in well dying, repaired the ill opinion, which until that hour men had ever held of him. Epaminondas being demanded, which of the three he esteemed most, either Chabrias, or Iphicrates, or himself; It is necessary, said he, that we be seen to die, before your question may well be resolved. Verily we should steal much from him, if he should be weighed without the honour and greatness of his end. God hath willed it, as he pleased: but in my time three of the most execrable persons, that ever I knew in all abomination of life, and the most infamous, have been seen to die very orderly and quietly, and in every circumstance composed even unto perfection. There are some brave and fortunate deaths. I have seen her cut the twine of some man's life, with a progress of wonderful advancement, and with so worthy an end, even in the flower of his growth, and spring of his youth, that in mine opinion, his ambitious and haughty courageous designs, thought nothing so high, as might interrupt them: who without going to the place where he pretended, arrived there more gloriously and worthily, than either his desire or hope aimed at. And by his fall forwent the power and name, whether by his course he aspired. When I judge of other men's lives, I ever respect, how they have behaved themselves in their end; and my chiefest study is, I may well demean myself at my last gasp, that is to say, quietly, and constantly. The nineteenth Chapter. That to Philosophy, is to learn how to die. CIcero saith, that to Philosophy is no other thing, than for a man to prepare himself to death: which is the reason, that study and contemplation doth in some sort withdraw our soul from us, and severally employ it from the body, which is a kind of apprentisage and resemblance of death; or else it is, that all the wisdom and discourse of the world, doth in the end resolve upon this point, to teach us, not to fear to die. Truly either reason mocks us, or it only aimeth at our contentment, and in fine, bends all her travel to make us live well, and as the holy Scripture saith, at our ease. All the opinions of the world conclude, that pleasure is our end, how be it they take diverse means unto, and for it, else would men reject them at their first coming. For; who would give ear unto him, that for its end would establish our pain and disturbance? The dissensions of philosophical sects in this case, are verbal: Transcurramus solertissimas nugas: Let us run over such over-fine fooleries, and subtle trifles. There is more wilfulness and wrangling among them, than pertains to a sacred profession▪ But what person a man undertakes to act, he doth ever therewithal personate his own. Although they say, that in virtue itself, the last scope of our aim is voluptuousness. It pleaseth me to importune their ears still with this word, which so much offends their hearing: And if it imply any chief pleasure or exceeding contentments, it is rather due to the assistance of virtue, than to any other supply, voluptuousness being more strong, sinnowie; sturdy, and manly, is but more seriously voluptuous. And we should give it the name of pleasure, more favourable, sweeter, and more natural; and not term it vigour, from which it hath his denomination. Should this base sensuality deserve this fair name, it should be by competency, and not by privilege. I find it less void of incommodities and crosses, than virtue. And besides that, her taste is more fleeting, momentary, and fading, she hath her fasts, her eves, and her travels, and both sweat and blood. Furthermore she hath particularly so many wounding passions and of so several sorts, and so filthy and loathsome a society waiting upon her, that she is equivalent to penitency. We are in the wrong, to think her incommodities serve her as a provocation, & seasoning to her sweetness, as in nature one contrary is vivified by another contrary: and to say, when we come to virtue, that like successes and difficulties over-whelme it, and yield it austere and inaccessible. Where as much more properly then unto voluptuousness, they ennobled, sharpen, animate, and raise that divine and perfect pleasure, which it mediates and procureth us. Truly he is very unworthy her acquaintance, that counterballanceth her cost to his fruit, and knows neither the graces nor use of it. Those who go about to instruct us; how her pursuit is very hard and laborious, and her jovisance well pleasing and delightful: what else tell they us, but that she is ever unpleasant and irksome? For, what human mean did ever attain unto an absolute enjoying of it? The perfectest have been content but to aspire and approach her, without ever possessing her. But they are deceived; seeing that of all the pleasures we know, the pursuit of them is pleasant. The enterprise is perceived by the quality of the thing, which it hath regard unto: for it is a good portion of the effect, and consubstantial. That happiness and felicity, which shineth in virtue, replenisheth her approaches and appurtenances, even unto the first entrance and utmost bar. Now of all the benefits of virtue, the contempt of death is the chiefest, a mean that furnisheth our life with an easeful tranquility, and gives us a pure and amiable taste of it: without which every other voluptuousness is extinguished. Lo, here the reasons why all rules encounter and agree with this article. And albeit they all lead us with a common accord to despise grief, poverty, and other accidental crosses, to which man's life is subject, it is not with an equal care: as well because accidents are not of such a necessity, for most men pass their whole life without feeling any want or poverty, and othersome without feeling any grief or sickness, as Xenophilus the physician, who lived a hundred and six years in perfect and continual health: as also if the worst happen, death may at all times, and whensoever it shall please us, cut off all other inconveniences, and crosses. But as for death, it is inevitable. Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium Hor. lib. 3. ●●. 3. 25. Versatur urna, serius, ocyus Sors exitura, & nos inaeter- num exitium impositura cymbae. All to one place are driven, of all Shaked is the lot-pot, wherehence shall Sooner or later drawn lots fall, And to death's boat for aye enthrall. And by consequence, if she make us afeard, it is a continual subject of torment, and which can no way be eased. There is no starting-hole will hide us from her, she will find us wheresoever we are, we may as in a suspected country start and turn here and there: qua quasi Cic. fin. lib. 1. saxum Tantalo semper impendet: Which evermore hangs like the stone over the head of Tantalus: Our laws do often condemn and send malefactors to be executed in the same place where the crime was committed: to which whilst they are going, lead them along the fairest houses, or entertain them with the best cheer you can, non Siculae dapes Hor. l. 3. od. 1. 18. Dulcem elaborabunt saporem: Non avium, cithaeraeque cantus Somnum reducent. Not all King Denys dainty fare, Can pleasing taste for them prepare: No song of birds, no musics sound Can lullaby to sleep profound. Do you think they can take any pleasure in it? or be any thing delighted? and that the final intent of their voyage being still before their eyes, hath not altered and altogether distracted their taste from all these commodities and allurements? Audit iter, number átque dies, spatióque viarum Claud in Ruff. 1. 2. 1. 137. Metitur vitam, torquetur pest futura. He hears his journey, count's his days, so measures he His life by his ways length, vexed with the ill shallbe. The end of our career is death, it is the necessary object of our aim: if it affright us, how is it possible we should step one foot further without an ague? The remedy of the vulgar sort is, not to think on it. But from what brutal stupidity may so gross a blindness come upon him? he must be made to bridle his Ass by the tail, Qui capite ipse suo instituit vest igia retro. Who doth a course contrary run With his head to his course begun. It is no marvel if he be so often taken tripping; some do no sooner hear the name of death spoken of, but they are afraid, yea the most part will cross themselves, as if they heard the Devil named. And because mention is made of it in men's wills and testaments, I warrant you there is none will set his hand to them, till the Physician have given his last doom, and utterly forsaken him. And God knows, being then between such pain and fear, with what sound judgement they endure him. For so much as this syllable sounded so unpleasantly in their ears, and this voice seemed so illboding and unlucky, the Romans had learned to allay and dilate the same by a Periphrasis. In lieu of saying, he is dead, or he hath ended his days, they would say, he hath lived. So it be life, be it past or no, they are comforted: from whom we have borrowed our phrases quondam, alias, or late such a one. It may happily be, as the common saying is, the time we live, is worth the money we pay for it. I was borne between eleven of the clock and noon, the last of February 1533. according to our computation, the year beginning the first of januarie. It is but a fortnight since I was 39 years old. I want at least as much more. If in the mean time I should trouble my thoughts with a matter so far from me, it were but folly. But what? we see both young and old to leave their life after one self-same condition. No man departs otherwise from it, than if he but now came to it, seeing there is no man so crazed, bedrell, or decrepit, so long as he remembers Met husalem, but thinks he may yet live twenty years. Moreover, silly creature as thou art, who hath limited the end of thy days? Happily thou presumest upon physicians reports. Rather consider the effect and experience. By the common course of things, long since thou livest by extraordinary favour. Thou hast already overpast the ordinary terms of common life: And to prove it, remember but thy acquaintances and tell me how many more of them have died before they came to thy age, than have either attained or outgone the same: yea and of those that through renown have ennobled their life, if thou but register them, I will lay a wager, I will find more that have died before they came to five and thirty years, than after. It is consonant with reason and piety, to take example by the humanity of jesus Christ, who ended his human life at three and thirty years. The greatest man that ever was being no more than a man, I mean Alexander the great, ended his days, and died also of that age. How many several means and ways hath death to surprise us. Quid quisque vitet, nunquum homini satis Hor. lib. 2. od. 13. 13. Cautum est in horas. A man can never take good heed, Hourly what he may shun and speed. jomit to speak of agues and pleurisies; who would ever have imagined, that a Duke of Brittany should have been stifled to death in a throng of people, as Whilom was a neighbour of mine at Lions, when Pope Clement made his entrance there? Hast thou not seen one of our late Kings slain in the midst of his sports? and one of his ancestors die miserably by the chocke of an hog? Eschilus' fore-threatned by the fall of an house, when he stood most upon his guard, strucken dead by the fall of a Tortoise shell, which fell out of the talons of an Eagle flying in the air? and another choked with the kernel of a grape? And an Emperor die by the scratch of a comb, whilst he was combing his head: And Aemylius Lepidus with hitting his foot against a doore-seele? And Aufidius with stumbling against the Consull-Chamber door as he was going in thereat? And Cornelius Gallus the Praetor, Tigillinus Captain of the Roman watch, Lodowick son of Guido Gonzaga, Marquis of Mantua, end their days between women's thighs? And of a far worse example Speusippus the Plantonian Philosopher and one of our Popes? Poor Bebius a judge whilst he demurreth the suit of a plaintiff but for eight days, behold his last expired; And Caius julius a Physician, whilst he was anointing the eyes of one of his patients, to have his ownesight closed for ever by death. And if amongst these examples, I may add one of a brother of mine, called Captain Saint Martin, a man of three and twenty years of age, who had already given good testimony of his worth and forward valour, playing at tennis, received a blow with a ball, that hit him a little above the right care, without appearance of any contusion, bruise, or hurt, and never sitting or resting upon it, died within six hours after of an Apoplexy, which the blow of the ball caused in him. These so frequent and ordinary examples, happening, and being still before our eyes, how is it possible for man to forego or forget the remembrance of death? and why should it not continually seem unto us, that she is still ready at hand to take us by the throat? What matter is it, will you say unto me, how and in what manner it is, so long as a man do not trouble and vex himself therewith? I am of this opinion, that howsoever a man may shroud or hide himself from her dart, yea were it under an oxhide, I am not the man would shrink back: it sufficeth me to live at my ease; and the best recreation I can have, that do I evertake; in other matters, as little vainglorious, and exemplare as you list. — praetulerim delirus inérsque videri, Id. 2. epi. 2. 126. Dum mea delectent mala me, vel denique fallant, quam sapere & ringi. A dotard I had rather seem, and dull, So me my faults may please make me a gull, Than to be wise, and beat my vexed skull. But it is folly to think that way to come unto it. They come, they go, they trot, they dance: but no speech of death. All that is good sport. But if she be once come, and on a sudden and openly surprise, either them, their wives, their children, or their friends, what torments, what outcries, what rage, and what despair doth then overwhelm them? saw you ever any thing so drooping, so changed, and so distracted? A man must look to it, and in better times foresee it. And might that brutish carelessness lodge in the mind of a man of understanding (which I find altogether impossible) she sells us her ware at an over dear rate: were she an enemy by man's wit to be avoided, I would advise men to borrow the weapons of cowardliness: but since it may not be: and that be you either a coward or a runaway, an honest or valiant man, she overtakes you, Nempe & sugacempersequitur virum, Id. 3 ●d. 2. 14. Nec parcit imbellis inventa Poplitibus, timidóque tergo. She persecutes the man that flies, She spares not weak youth to surprise, But on their hams and back turned plies. And that no temper of cuirace may shield or defend you, Ille licet ferro cautus se condat & aere, Propat. l. 3. & 17. 25. Mors tamen inclusum protrahet inde caput. Though he with iron and brass his head impale, Yet death his head enclosed thence will hale. Let us learn to stand, and combat her with a resolute mind. And begin to take the greatest advantage she hath upon us from her, let us take a clean contrary way from the common, let us remove her strangeness from her, let us converse, frequent, and acquaint ourselves with her, let us have nothing so much in mind as death, let us at all times and seasons, and in the ugliest manner that may be, yea with all faces shapen and represent the same unto our imagination. At the stumbling of a horse, at the fall of a stone, at the least prick with a pin, let us presently ruminate and say with ourselves, what if it were death itself? and thereupon let us take heart of grace, and call our wits together to confront her. A midst our banquets, seasts, and pleasures, let us ever have this restraint or object before us, that is, the remembrance of our condition, and let not pleasure so much misled or transport us, that we altogether neglect or forget, how many ways, our joys, or our feastings, be subject unto death, and by how many hold-fasts she threatens us and them. So did the Egyptians, who in the midst of their banquet, and in the full of their greatest cheer, caused the anatomy of a dead man to be brought before them, as a memorandum and warning to their guests. Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum, Hor. lib. 1. epi. 4. 13. Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur hora. Think every day shines on thee as thy last, Welcome it will come, whereof hope was passed. It is uncertain where death looks for us; let us expect her every where: the premeditation of death, is a forthinking of liberty. He who hath learned to die, hath unlearned to serve. There is no evil in life, for him that hath well conceived, how the privation of life, is no evil. To know how to die, doth freeus from all subjection and constraint. Paulus Aem●●us answered one, whom that miserable king of Macedon his prisoner sent to entreat him, he would not lead him in triumph, let him make that request unto himself. Verily, if Nature afford not some help, in all things, it is very hard that art and industry should go far before. Of myself, I am not much given to melancholy, but rather to dreaming and sluggishness. There is nothing wherewith I have ever more entertained myself, than with the imaginations of death, yea in the most licentious times of my age. jucundum, cum aetas florida ver ageret. Catul. ●leg. 4. 16 When my age flourishing Did spend its pleasant spring. Being amongst fair Ladies, and in earnest play, some have thought me busied, or musing with myself, how to digest some jealousy, or meditating on the uncertainty of some conceived hope, when God he knows, I was entertaining myself with the remembrance of some one or other, that but few days before was taken with a burning fever, and of his sudden end, coming from such a feast or meeting where I was myself, and with his head full of idle conceits, of love, and merry glee; supposing the same, either sickness or end to be as near me as him. jam fuerit, nec post, unquam revocare licebit. Lucr, lib. 3. 947 Now time would be, no more You can this time restore. I did no more trouble myself or frown at such a conceit, then at any other. It is impossible, we should not apprehend or feel some motions or start at such imaginations at the first, and coming suddenly upon us: but doubtless, he that shall manage and meditate upon them with an impartial eye, they will assuredly, in tract of time, become familiar to him: Otherwise for my part, I should be in continual fear and agony; for no man did evermore distrust his life, nor make less account of his continuance: Neither can health, which hitherto I have so long enjoyed, and which so seldom hath been crazed, lengthen my hopes, nor any sickness shorten them of it. At every minute me thinks I make an escape. And I uncessantly record unto myself, that whatsoever may be done another day, may be effected this day. Truly hazards and dangers do little or nothing approach us at our end: And if we consider, how many more there remain, besides this accident, which in number more than millions seem to threaten us, and hang over us; we shall find, that be we sound or sick, lusty or weak, at sea or at land, abroad or at home, fight or at rest, in the midst of a battle or in our beds, she is ever alike near unto us. Nemo altero fragilior est, nemo in crastinum sui certior. No man is meaker than other; none surer of himself (to live) till to morrow. Whatsoever I have to do before death, all leisure to end the same, seemeth short unto me, yea were it but of one hour. Some body, not long since turning over my writing tables, found by chance a memorial of something I would have done after my death: I told him (as indeed it was true,) that being but a mile from my house, and in perfect health and lusty, I had made haste to write it, because I could not assure myself I should ever come home in safety; As one that am ever hatching of mine own thoughts, and place them in myself: I am ever prepared about that which I may be: nor can death (come when she please) put me in mind of any new thing. A man should ever, as much as in him lieth, be ready booted to take his journey, and above all things, look he have then nothing to do but with himself. Quid brevifortes iaculamur aevo Hor. l. 2. ●d. 16. Multa? To aim why are we ever bold, At many things in so short hold? For than we shall have work sufficient, without any more accrease. Some man complaineth more that death doth hinder him from the assured course of an hoped for victory, than of death itself; another cries out, he should give place to her, before he have married his daughter, or directed the course of his children's bringing up; another bewaileth he must forego his wife's company: another moaneth the loss of his children the chiefest commodities of his being. I am now, by means of the mercy of God, in such a taking, that without regret or grieving at any worldly matter, I am prepared to dislodge, whensoever he shall please to call me: I am every where free: my farewell is soon taken of all my friends except of myself. No man did ever prepare himself to quit the world more simply, and fully, or more generally spoke of all thoughts of it, than I am fully assured I shall do. The deadest deaths are the best. — Miser o miser (aiunt) omnia ademit, Lucr. lib. 3. 942 una dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae: O wretch, O wretch, (friends cry) one day, All joys of life hath ta'en away: And the builder, — maneant (saith he) opera interrupta, minaeque Virg. A●n. lib. 4. 88 Murorumingentes. The works unfinished lie, And walls that threatened high. A man should design nothing so long afore hand, or at least with such an intent, as to passionate himself to see the end of it; we are all borne to be doing. cum moriar, medium soluar & inter opus. ovid. am. lib. 2. ●l. 10. 36. When dying I myself shall spend. Ere half by business come to end. I would have a man to be doing, and to prolong his lives offices, as much as lieth in him, and let death seize upon me, whilst I am setting my cabiges, careless of her dart, but more of my unperfect garden. I saw one die, who being at his last gasp, uncessantly complained against his destiny, and that death should so unkindly cut him off in the midst of an history which he had in hand, and was now come to the fifteenth or sixteenth of our Kings. Illud in his rebus non addunt, nec tibi earum, L●cr. lib. 3. 944 jam desiderium rerum super insidet una. Friends add not that in this case, now no more Shalt thou desire, or want things wished before. A man should rid himself of these vulgar and hurtful humours. Even as Churchyards were first placed adjoining unto churches, and in the most frequented places of the City, to enure (as Lycurgus said) the common people, women and children, not to be scared at the sight of a dead man, and to the end that continual spectacle of bones, skulls, tombs, graves; and burials, should forewarn us of our condition, and fatal end. Quin etiam exhilarare viris convivia caede Syl. ●●a●. l. 11. 51. Mos olim, & miscere epulis spectacula dira. Certantum ferro, saepe & super ipsa cadentum Pocula, resper sis non parco sanguine mensis. Nay more, the manner was to welcome guests, And with dire shows of slaughter to mix feasts. Of them that fought at sharp, and with boards tainted Of them with much blood, who o'er full cups fainted. And even as the Egyptians after their feastings and carowsing, caused a great image of death to be brought in and showed to the guests and bystanders, by one that cried aloud, Drink and be merry, for such shalt thou be when thou art dead: So have I learned this custom or lesson, to have always death, not only in my imagination, but continually in my mouth. And there is nothing I desire more to be informed of, than of the death of men: that is to say, what words, what countenance, and what face they show at their death; and in reading of histories, which I so attentively observe. It appeareth by the shuffling and huddling up of my examples, I affect no subject so particularly as this. Were I a composer of books, I would keep a register, commented of the divers deaths, which in teaching men to die, should after teach them to live. Dicearcus made one of that title, but of an other and less profitable end. Some man will say to me, the effect exceeds the thought so far, that there is no fence so sure, or cunning so certain, but a man shall either lose or forget, if he come once to that point; let them say what they list: to premeditate on it, giveth no doubt a great advantage: and is it nothing, at the least to go eso far without dismay or alteration, or without an ague? There belongs more to it: Nature herself lends her hand, and gives us courage. If it be a short and violent death, we have no leisure to fear it; if otherwise, I perceive that according as I engage myself in sickness, I do naturally fall into some disdain and contempt of life. I find that I have more ado to digest this resolution, that I shall die when I am in health, than I have, when I am troubled with a fever: forsomuch as I have no more such fast hold on the commodities of life, whereof I begin to lose the use and pleasure, and view death in the face with a less undaunted look, which makes me hope, that the further I go from that, and the nearer I approach to this, so much more easily do I enter in composition, for their exchange, Even as I have tried in many other occurrences, which Caesar affirmed, that often somethings seem greater, being far from us, than if they be near at hand: I have found that being in perfect health, I have much more been frighted with sickness, than when I have felt it. The jollity wherein I live, the pleasure and the strength, make the other seem so disproportionable from that, that by imagination I amplify these commodities by one moiety, and apprehended them much more heavy and burdensome, than I feel them when I have them upon my shoulders. The same I hope will happen to me of death. Consider we by the ordinary mutations, and daily declinations, which we suffer, how Nature deprives us of the night of our loss and impairing: what hath an aged man left him of his youth's vigour, and of his forepast life? Heu senibus vitae portio quanta manet! Cor. Gal. lib. 1. 16. Alas to men in years, how small A part of life is left in all? Caesar to a tired and crazed Soldier of his guard, who in the open street came to him, to beg leave, he might cause himself to be put to death; viewing his decrepit behaviour, answered pleasantly: Dost thou think to be alive then? Were man all at once to fall into it, I do not think we should be able to bear such a change, but being fair and gently led on by her hand, in a slow, and as it were unperceived descent, by little and little, and step by step, she rolls us into that miserable state, and day by day seeks to acquaint us with it. So that when youth fails in us, we feel, nay we perceive no shaking or transchange at all in ourselves: which in essence and verity is a harder death, then that of a languishing and irksome life, or that of age. Forsomuch as the leap from an ill being, unto a not being, is not so dangerous or steeple; as it is from a delightful and flourishing being, unto a painful and sorrowful condition. A weak bending, and faint stooping body hath less strength to bear and undergo a heavy burden: So hath our soul. She must be roused and raised against the violence and force of this adversary. For, as 〈…〉 s impossible, she should take any rest whilst she feareth: whereof if she be assured (which is a thing exceeding human condition) she may boast that it is impossible, unquietness, torment, and fear, much less the least displeasure should lodge in her. Non vulius instantis tyranni Hor. lib. 3. ●d. 3. Mente quatit solida, neque Auster, Dux inquieti turbidus Adriae, Nec fulminantis magna jovis manus. No urging tyrants threatening face, Where mind is sound can it displace, No troublous wind the rough seas Master, Nor joves great hand the thunder-caster. She is made Mistress of her passions, and concupiscence, Lady of indulgence, of shame of poverty, and of all fortunes injuries. Let him that can, attain to this advantage: Herein consists the true and Sovereign liberty, that affords us means wherewith to jest and make a scorn of force and in justice, and to deride imprisonment, gives, or fetters. — in manicis, & Li. 1. epi. 16. 76. Compedibus, saevo te sub custode tenebo▪ Ipse Deus simul atque volam, me solvet: opinor, Hoc sensit moriar, mor● ultima linearerum est. In gyves and fetters I will hamper thee, Under a jailer that shall cruel be: Yet, when I will, God me deliver shall, He thinks, I shall die: death is end of all. Our religion hath had no surer human foundation, than the contempt of life. Discourse of reason doth not only call and summon us unto it. For why should we fear to lose a thing, which being lost, cannot be moaned? but also, since we are threatened by so many kinds of death, there is no more inconvenience to fear them all, than to endure one: what matter is it when it cometh, since it is unavoidable? Socrates answered one that told him, The thirty Tyrants have condemned thee to death; And Nature them, said he. What fondness is it to cark and care so much, at that instant and passage from all exemption of pain and care? As our birth brought us the birth of all things, so shall our death the end of all things. Therefore is it as great folly to weep, we shall not live a hundred years hence, as to wail we lived not a hundred years ago. Death is the beginning of another life. So wept we, and so much did it cost us to enter into this life; and so did we spoil us of our ancient vail in entering into it. Nothing can be grievous that is but once. Is it reason so long to fear, a thing of so short time? Long life or short life is made all one by death. For long or short is not in things that are no more. Aristotle saith, there are certain little beasts alongst the river Hyspanis, that live but one day; she which dies at 8. a clock in the morning, dies in her youth, & she that dies at 5. in the afternoon, dies in her decrepitude, who of us doth not laugh, when we shall see this short moment of continuance to be had in consideration of good or ill fortune? The most & the least in ours, if we compare it with eternity, or equal it to the lasting of mountains, rivers, stars, and trees, or any other living creature, is no less ridiculous. But nature compels us to it. Depart saith she, out of this world, even as you came into it. The same way you came from death, to life return without passion or amazement, from life to death: your death is but a piece of the world's order, and but a parcel of the world's life. — inter se mortales mutua vivunt, Lucr. 2. 74. 77. Et quasi cursores vitai lampada tradunt. Mortal men live by mutual intercourse: And yield their life-torch, as men in a course. Shall I not change this goodly contexture of things for you? It is the condition of your creation: death is a part of yourselves: you fly from yourselves. The being you enjoy, is equally shared between life and death. The first day of your birth doth aswell address you todie, as to live. Prima quae vitam dedit, hora carpsit. Sen. Her. f●r. ch●r. 3. The first hour, that to men Gave life, straight, cropped it then. Nascentes morimur, finisque ab origine pendet: Manil. as●●●li. 4 As we are borne we die; the end Doth of th'original depend. All the time you live, you steal it from death: it is at her charge. The continual work of your life, is to contrive death; you are in death, during the time you continue in life: for, you are after death, when you are no longer living. Or if you had rather have it so, you are dead after life: but during life, you are still dying: & death doth more rudely touch the dying, than the dead, and more lively and essentially. If you have profited by life, you have also been fed thereby, depart then satisfied. Cur non ut plenus vitae conviva recedis? Lucr. l. 3 982. Why like a full-fed guest, Depart you not to rest? If you have not known how to make use of it: if it were unprofitable to you, what need you care to have lost it? to what end would you enjoy it longer? — cur amplius addere quaris Lucr. l. 3. 985. Rursum quod pereat malè, & ingratum occidat omne? Why seek you more to gain, what must again All perish ill, and pass with grief or pain? Life in itself is neither good nor evil: it is the place of good or evil, according as you prepare it for them. And if you have lived one day, you have seen all: one day is equal to all other days: There is no other light, there is no other night. This Sun, this Moon, these Stars, and this disposition, is the very same, which your forefathers enjoyed, and which shall also entertain your posterity. Non alium ●id●re patres: aliúmue nepotes Aspicient. No other saw our Sires of old, No other shall their sons behold. And if the worst happen, the distribution and variety of all the acts of my comedy, is performed in one year. If you have observed the course of my four seasons; they contain the infancy, the youth, the virility, & the old age of the world. He hath played his part: he knows no other wiliness belonging to it, but to begin again, it will ever be the same, and no other, — Versamur ibidem, atque insumus usque, 3. We still in one place turn about, Still there we are, now in, now out. Atque inse sua per vestigia volvitur annus. ●. 2. The year into itself is cast By those same steps, that it hath past. I am not purposed to devise you other new sports. Nam tibi praeterea quod machiner, inveniámque ●. 2. 978. Quod placeat, nihil est, eadem sunt omnia semper. Else nothing, that I can devise or frame, Can please thee, for all things are still the same. Make room for others, as others have done for you. Equality is the chief groundwork of equity, who can complain to be comprehended where all are contained? So may you live long-enough, you shall never diminish any thing from the time you have to die: it is bootless; so long shall you continue in that state, which you fear, as if you had died being in your swathing-clothes, and when you were sucking. — licet, quot vis, vivendo vincere secla, Mors aeterna tamen, nihil ominus illa manebit. Though years you live, as many as you will, Death is eternal, death remaineth still. And I will so please you, that you shall have no discontent. In vera nescis nullum fore morte alium te, Qui possit vivus tibi te lugere peremptum, Stánsque iacnetem. Thou knowst no there shall be not other thou, When thou art dead indeed, that can tell how Alive to wail thee dying, Standing to wail thee lying. Nor shall you wish for life, which you so much desire. Nec sibi enim quisquam tum se vitámque requirit, Nec desiderium nostri nos afficit ullum. For than none for himself himself or life requires: 9TH. Nor are we of ourselves affected with desires. Death is less to be feared than nothing, if there were any thing less, than nothing. — multo mortem minus ad nos esse putandum, Si minus esse potest quám quod nihil esse videmus. Death is much less to us, we ought esteem, 970. If less may be, than what doth nothing seem. Nor alive, nor dead, it doth concern you nothing. Alive, because you are: Dead, because you are no more. Moreover, no man dies before his hour. The time you leave behind was no more yours, then that which was before your birth, and concerneth you no more. Respice enim quam nil ad nos anteacta vetustas 1016. Temporis aeterni fuerit, For mark, how all antiquity foregone Of all time ere we were, to us was none. Wheresoever your life endeth, there is it all. The profit of life consists not in the space, but rather in the use. Some man hath lived long, that hath had a short life. Follow it whilst you have time. It consists not in number of years, but in your will, that you have lived long enough. Did you think you should never come to the place, where you were still going? There is no way but hath an end. And if company may solace you, doth not the whole world walk the same path? — Omnia te vita perfuncta sequenter. 1012. Life past, all things at last Shall follow thee as thou hast passed. Do not all things move as you do, or keep your course? Is there any thing grows not old together with yourself? A thousand men, a thousand beasts, and a thousand other creatures die in the very instance that you die. Nam nox nulla diem, neque noctem aurora secuta est, lib. 2. 587. Quae non audierit mistos vagitibus aegris Ploratus mortis comites & funeris atri. No night ensued day light: no morning followed night Which heard not moaning mixed with sick-men's groaning With deaths and funerals joined was that moaning. To what end recoil you from it, if you cannot go back? You have seen many who have found good in death, ending thereby many many miseries. But have you seen any that hath received hurt thereby? Therefore is it mere simplicity to condemn a thing you never proved, neither by yourself nor any other. Why dost thou complain of me and of destiny? Do we offer thee any wrong? is it for thee to direct us, or for us to govern thee? Although thy age be not come to her period, thy life is. A little man, is a whole man, as well as a great man. Neither men nor their lives are measured by the Ell. Chiron refused immortality, being informed of the conditions thereof, even by the God of time and of continuance, Saturn his father. Imagine truly how much an ever during life would be less tolerable and more painful to a man, then is the life which I have given him: Had you not death, you would then uncessantly curse, and cry out against me, that I had deprived you of it. I have of purpose and wittingly blended some bitterness amongst it, that so seeing the commodity of its use, I might hinder you from over greedily embracing, or indiscreetly calling for it. To continue in this moderation, that is neither to fly from life, nor to run to death (which I require of you) I have tempered both the one and other between sweetness & sourness. I first taught Thales the chiefest of your Sages and Wise men, that to live & die, were indifferent, which made him answer one very wisely, who asked him, wherefore he died not; Because, saith he, it is indifferent. The water, the earth, the air, the fire, and other members of this my universe, are no more the instruments of thy life, then of thy death. Why fearest thou thy last day? He is no more guilty, and conferreth no more to thy death, than any of the others. It is not the last step that causeth weariness: it only declares it. All days march towards death, only the last comes to it. Behold here the good precepts of our universal mother Nature. I have oftentimes bethought myself whence it proceedeth, that in times of war, the visage of death (whether we see it in us or in others) seemeth without all comparison much less dreadful and terrible unto us, then in our houses, or in our beds, otherwise it should be an army of Physicians and whiners, and she ever being one, there must needs be much more assurance amongst contrie-people and of base condition, then in others. I verily believe, these fearful looks, and astonishing countenances wherewith we encompass it, are those that more amaze and terrify us then death: a new form of life: the outcries of mothers; the wailing of women and children; the visitation of dismayed and swooning friends: the assistance of a number of pale-looking, distracted, and whining servants; a dark chamber: tapers burning round about; our couch beset round with Physicians and Preachers; and to conclude, nothing but horror and astonishment on every side of us: are we not already dead and buried? The very children are afraid of their friends, when they see them masked; and so are we: The mask must as well be taken from things, as from men, which being removed, we shall find nothing hid under it, but the very same death, that a silly varlet, or a simple maide-servant, did lately suffer without amazement or fear. Happy is that death, which takes all leisure from the preparations of such an equipage. The twentieth Chapter. Of the force of Imagination. FOrtis imaginatio generat casum: A strong imagination begetteth chance, say learned clerk. I am one of those that feel a very great conflict and power of imagination. All men are shocked therewith, and some overthrown by it. The impression of it pierceth me, and for want of strength to resist her, my endeavour is to avoid it. I could live with the only assistance of holy and merry hearted men. The sight of others anguishes doth sensibly drive me into anguish; and my sense hath often usurped the sense of a third man. If one cough continually, he provokes my lungs and throat. I am more unwilling to visit the sick duty doth engage me unto, than those to whom I am little beholding, and regard least. I apprehend the evil which I study, and place it in me. I deem it not strange that she brings both agues and death to such as give her scope to work her will, and applaud her. Simon Thomas was a great Physician in his days. I remember upon a time coming by chance to visit a rich old man that dwelled in Tholouse, and who was troubled with the cough of the lungs, who discoursing with the said Simon Thomas of the means of his recovery, he told him, that one of the best was, to give me occasion to be delighted in his company, and that fixing his eyes upon the livelines and freshness of my face, and setting his thoughts upon the jollity and vigour, wherewith my youthful age did then flourish, and filling all his senses with my flourishing estate, his habitude might thereby be amended, and his health recovered. But he forgot to say, that mine might also be impaired and infected. Gallus Vibius did so well enure his mind to comprehend the essence and motions of folly, that he so transported his judgement from out his seat, as he could never afterward bring it to his right place again: and might rightly boast, to have become a fool through wisdom. Some there are, that through fear anticipate the hangman's hand; as he did, whose friends having obtained his pardon, and putting away the cloth wherewith he was hoodwinked, that he might hear it read, was found stark dead upon the scaffold, wounded only by the stroke of imagination. We sweat, we shake, we grow pale, and we blush at the motions of our imaginations; and wallowing in our beds we feel our bodies agitated and turmoiled at their apprehensions, yea in such manner, as sometimes we are ready to yield up the spirit. And burning youth (although asleep) is often therewith so possessed and enfoulded, that dreaming it doth satisfy and enjoy her amorous desires. Vt quasi transactis saepe omnibu'rebu' profundant Fluminis ingentes fluctus, vest émque cruentent. Lucr. li. 4. 1027 And if all things were done, they power forth streams, And bloody their night-garment in their dreams. And although it be not strange to see some men have horns growing upon their head in one night, that had none when they went to bed: notwithstanding the fortune or success of Cyppus' King of Italy is memorable, who because the day before he had with earnest affection, assisted and been attentive at a bul-ba●ting, and having all night long dreamt of horns in his head, by the very force of imagination brought them forth the next morning in his forehead. An earnest passion gave the son of Croesus his voice, which nature had denied him. And Antiochus got an ague, by the excellent beauty of Stratonic● so deeply imprinted in his mind. Pliny reporteth to have seen Lucius Cossitius upon his marriage day to have been transformed from a woman to a man. Pontanus and others recount the like Metamorphosies to have happened in Italy these ages past: And through a vehement desire of him and his mother, V●tapuer solvit, quae foemina voverat Iphis. Iphis a boy, the vows then paid, Guid. M●tam. lib. 9 ●94. Which he vowed when he was a maid. Myself travelling on a time by Vitry in France, happened to see a man, whom the Bishop of S●iss●●● had in confirmation, named German, and all the inhabitants there about have both known and seen to be a woman child, until she was two and twenty years of age, called by the name of Marie. He was, when I saw him, of good years, and had a long beard, and was yet unmarried. He saith, that upon a time leaping, and straining himself to over leap an other, he wot not how, but where before he was a woman, he suddenly felt the instrument of a man to come out of him; and to this day the maidens of that town and country have a ●ong in use, by which they warn one another, when they are leaping, not to strain themselves overmuch, or open their legs to wide, for fear they should be turned to boys, as Marie German was. It is no great wonder, that such accidents do often happen, for if imagination have power in such things, it is so continually annexed, and so forcibly fastened to this subject, that lest she should so often fall into the relapse of the same thought, and sharpness of desire, it is better one time for all, to incorporate this virile part unto wenches. Some will not stick to ascribe the scars of King Dagobert, or the cicatrices of Saint Francis unto the power of Imagination. Othersome will say, that by the force of it, bodies are sometimes removed from their places. And Celsus reports of a Priest, whose soul was ravished into such an ecstasy, that for a long time the body remained void of all respiration and sense. Saint Augustine speaketh of an other, who if he but heard any lamentable and wailful cries, would suddenly fall into a swoon, and be so forcibly carried from himself, that did any chide and brawl never so loud, pinch and thump him never so much, he could not be made to stir, until he came to himself again. Then would he say, he had heard sundry strange voices, coming as it were from a far, and perceiving his pinches and bruises, wondered at them. And that it was not an obstinate conceit, or wilful humour in him, or against his feeling sense, it plainly appeared by this, because during his ecstasy, he seemed to have neither pulse nor breath. It is very likely that the principal credit of visions, of enchantments, and such extraordinary effects, proceedeth from the power of imaginations, working especially in the minds of the vulgar sort, as the weakest and s●●liest, whose conceit and belief is so seized upon, that they imagine to see what they see not. I am yet in doubt, these pleasant bonds, wherewith our world is so fettered, and France so pestered, that nothing else is spoken of, are happily but the impressions of apprehension, and effects of fear. For I know by experience, that someone, for whom I may as well answer as for myself, and in whom no manner of suspicion either of weakness or enchantment might fall, hearing a companion of his make report of an extraordinary faint swooning, wherein he was fallen, at such a time, as he lest looked for it, and wrought him no small shame, whereupon the horror of his report did so strongly strike his imagination, as he ran the same fortune, and fell into a like drooping: And was thence forward subject to fall into like fits: So did the passionate remembrance of his inconvenience possess and tyrannize him; but his fond doting was in time remedied by an other kind of ●aving. For himself avowing and publishing aforehand the infirmity he was subject unto, the contention of his soul was solaced upon this, that bearing his evil as expected, his duty thereby diminished, and he grieved less thereat. And when at his choice, he hath had law and power (his thought being cleared and unmasked, his body finding itself in his right due and place) to make the same to be felt, seized upon, and apprehended by others knowledge: he hath fully and perfectly recovered himself. If a man have once been capable, he cannot afterward be incapable, except by a just and absolute weakness. Such a mischief is not to be feared, but in the enterprises, where our mind is beyond all measure bend with desire and respect; and chiefly where opportunity comes unexpected and requires a sudden dispàtch. There is no means for a man to recover himself from this trouble; I know some, who have found to come unto it with their bodies as it were half glutted elsewhere, thereby to stupefy or allay the heat of that fury, and who through age, find themselves less unable, by how much more they be less able: And another, who hath also found good, in that a friend of his assured him to be provided with a counterbattery of forcible enchantments, to preserve him in any such conflict: It is not amiss I relate how it was. An Earl of very good place, with whom I was familiarly acquainted, being married to a very fair Lady, who had long been solicited for love, by one assisting at the wedding, did greatly trouble his friends; but most of all an old Lady his kinswoman, who was chief at the marriage, and in whose house it was solemnised, as she that much feared such sorceries and witchcrats: which she gave me to understand, I comforted her as well as I could, and desired her to rely upon me: I had by chance a piece of golden plate in my trunk, wherein were engraven certain celestial figures, good against the Sunbeams, and for the headache, being fitly laid upon the suture of the head: and that it might the better be kept there, it was sewed to a ribbon, to be fastened under the chin. A fond doting conceit, and cosin-germane to that we now speak of▪ james Peletier had whilst he lived in my house, bestowed that singular gift upon me; I advised myself to put it to someuse, and told the Earl, he might happily be in danger, and come to some misfortune as others had done, the rather because some were present, that would not stick to procure him some ill luck, and which was worse, some spiteful shame▪ but nevertheless I willed him boldly to go to bed: For I would show him the part of a true friend, and in his need, spare not for his good to employ a miracle, which was in my power; always provided, that on his honour he would promise me faithfully to keep it very secret; which was only, that when about midnight he should have his caudle brought him, if he had had no good success in his business, he should make such and such a sign to me. It fell out, his mind was so quailed, and his ears so dulled, that by reason of the bond wherewith the trouble of his imagination had tied him, he could not run on post: and at the hour appointed, made the sign agreed upon between us, I came and whispered him in the ear, that under pretence to putus all out of his chamber, he should rise out of his bed, and in jesting manner take my nightgown which I had on, and put it upon himself (which he might well do, because we were much of one stature) and keep it on till he had performed my appointment, which was, that when we should be gone out of the Chamber, he should withdraw himself to make water, and using certain jestures, I had showed him, speak such words thrice over. And every time he spoke them he should gird the ribbon, which I put into his hands, and very carefully place the plate thereto fastened, just upon his kidneys, and the whole figure, in such a posture. All which when he had accordingly done, and the last time so fastened the ribbon, that it might neither be untied nor stirred from his place, he should then boldly and confidently return to his charge, and not forget to spread my nightgown upon his bed, but so as it might cover them both. These fopperies are the chief of the effect. Our thought being unable so to free itself, but some strange means will proceed from some abstruse learning: Their inaniti● gives them weight and credit. To conclude, it is most certain, my Characters proved more venerean than solare, more in action, than in prohibition. It was a ready and curious humour drew me to this effect, far from my nature. I am an enemy to crafty and feigned actions, and hate all subtlety in my hands, not only recreative, but also profitable. If the action be not vicious, the course unto it, is faulty. Amasis' king of Egypt, took to wife Laodice, a very beauteous young virgin of Greece, and he that before had in every other place found and showed himself a lusty gallant, found himself so si ort, when he came to grapple with her, that he threatened to kill her, supposing it had been some charm or sorcery. As in all things that consist in the fantasy, she addressed him to devotion. And having made his vows and promises to Venus, he found himself divinely freed, even from the first night of his oblations and sacrifices. Now they wrong us, to receive and admit us with their wanton, squeamish, quarrelous countenances, which setting us a fire, extinguish us. Pythagoras' his niece was wont to say, That a woman which lies with a man, ought, together with her petie-coate, leave off all bashfulness, and with her petie-coate, take the same again. The mind of the assailant molested with sundry different alarms, is easily dismayed. And he whom imagination hath once made to suffer this shame (and she hath caused the same to be felt but in the first acquaintances; because they are then burning and violent, and in the first acquaintance and coming together, or trial a man gives of himself, he is much more afraid and acquaint to miss the mark he shoots at) having begun ill he falls into an ague or spite of this accident, which afterward continueth in succeeding occasions. Married men, because time is at their command, and they may go to it when they list, ought never to press or importune their enterprise, unless they be ready. And it is better undecently to fail in hanseling the nuptial bed, full of agitation and fits, by waiting for some or other fitter occasion, and more private opportunity, lest sudden and alarmed, then to fall into a perpetual misery, by apprehending an astonishment and desperation of the first refusal. Before possession taken, a patient aught by sallies, and diverse times, lightly assay and offer himself without vexing or opiniating himself, definitively to convince himself. Such as know their members docile and tractable by nature, let them only endeavour to countercosin their fantasy. Men have reason to check the indocile liberty of this member, for so importunately insinuating himself when we have no need of him, and so importunately, or as I may say impertinently failing, at what time we have most need of him; and so imperiously contesting by his authority, with ou● will, refusing with such fierceness and obstinacy our solicitations both mental and manual. Nevertheless if a man inasmuch as he doth gourmandize and devour his rebellion, and draws a trial by his condemnation, would pay me for to plead his cause▪ I would peradventure make other of our members to be suspected to have (in envy of his importance, and sweetness of his use) devised this imposture, and framed this set quarrel against him, and by some malicious complot armed the world against him, enviously charging him alone with a fault common to them all. For I refer it to your thought, whether there be any one particular part of our body, that doth not sometimes refuse her particular operation to our will and wish, and that doth not often exercise and practise against our will▪ All of them have their proper passions, which without any leave of ours do either awaken or lull them asleep. How often do the forced motions and changes of our faces, witness the secretest and most lurking thoughts we have, and bewray them to bystanders? The same cause that doth animate this member, doth also, unwitting to us, embolden our heart, our lungs, and our pulses. The sight of a pleasing object, reflecting imperceptibly on us, the flame of a contagious or aguish emotion. Is there nought besides these muscles and veins, that rise and fall without the consent, not only of our will, but also of our thought? We cannot command our hair to stand an end, nor our skin to startle for desire or fear. Our hands are often carried where we direct them not. Our tongue and voice are sometimes to seek of their faculties, the one looseth her speech, the other her nimbleness. Even when we have nothing to feed upon, we would willingly forbid it: the appetites to eat, or list to drink, do not leave to move the parts subject to them, even as this other appetite, and so, though it be out of season, forsaketh us, when he thinks good. Those instruments that serve to discharge the belly, have their proper compressions and dilatations, besides our intent, & against our meaning, as these are destined to discharge the kidneys. And that which, the better to authorize our wills power, Saint Augustin allegeth, to have seen one, who could at all times command his posterior, to let as many s●apes as he would, and which Vives endeareth by the example of an other in his days, who could let tuneable and organized ones, following the tune of any voice propounded unto his ears, inferreth the pure obedience of that member: than which▪ none is commonly more indiscreet and tumultuous. Seeing myself know one so skittish and mutinous, that these forty years keeps his master in such awe, that will he, or nill he, he will with a continual breath, constant and unintermitted custom break wind at his pleasure, and so brings him to his grave. And would to God I knew it but by Histories, how that many times our belly, being restrained thereof, brings us even to the gates of a pining and languishing death: And that the Emperor, who gave us free leave to vent at all times, and every where, had also given us the power to do it. But our will, by whose privilege we advance this reproach, how much more likely, and consonant to truth may we tax it of rebellion, and accuse it of sedition, by reason of its unruliness and disobedience? Will she at all times do that, which we would have her willingly to do? Is she not often willing to effect that, which we forbid her to desire? and that to our manifest prejudice and damage? Doth she suffer herself to be directed by the conclusions of our reason? To conclude, I would urge in defence of my client, that it would please the judges to consider, that concerning this matter, his cause being inseparably conjoined to a consort, and indistinctly: yet will not a man address himself but to him, both by the arguments and charges, which can no way appertain to his said consort. For, his effect is indeed sometime importunately to invite, but to refuse never: and also to invite silently and quietly. Therefore is the saw●inesse and illegality of the accusers seen. Howsoever it be, protesting that advocates and judges may wrangle, contend, and give sentence, what, and how they please, Nature will in the mean time follow her course: who, had she endued this member with any particular privilege, yet had she done but right, and showed but reason. Author of the only immortal work, of mortal men. Divine work according to Socrates; and love, desire of immortality, and immortal Daemon himself. Some man peradventure, by the effects of imagination, leaveth the pox or Kings evil here, which his companion carrieth into Spain again: lo here why in such cases men are accustomed to require a prepared mind, wherefore do Physicians labour and practise before hand the conceit and credence of their patients, with so many false promises of their recovery and health, unless it be that the effect of imagination may supple and prepare the imposture of their decoction? They knew that one of their trades-master hath left written, how some men have been found, in whom the only sight of a potion hath wrought his due operation: All which humour or caprice is now come into my mind, upon the report which an Apothecary, whilom a servant in my father's house, was wont to tell me, a man by knowledge simple, and by birth a Swisser▪ a nation little vainglorious, and not much given to lying, which was, that for a long time he had known a merchant in Tholouse, sickish, and much troubled with the stone, and who often had need of glisters, who according to the ●●ts and occurrences of his evil, caused them diversely to be prescribed by Physicians. Which being brought him, no accustomed form to them belonging was omitted, and would often taste whether they were too hot, and view them well, and lying along upon his bed, on his bellue, and all compliments performed, only injection excepted, which ceremony ended, the Apothecary gone, and the patient lying in his bed, even as if he had received a glister indeed, he found and felt the very same effect, which they do that have effectually taken them. And if the Physician saw it had not wrought sufficiently, he would accordingly give him two or three more in the same manner. My witness protesteth, that the sick man's wife, to save charges (for he paid for them as if he had received them) having sometimes assayed to make them only with luke warm water, the effect discovered the craft, and being found not to work at all, they were forced to return to the former, and use the Apothecary. A woman supposing ●o have swallowed a pin with her bread, cried and vexed herself, even as if she had felt an intolerable pain in her throat, where she imagined the same to stick; but because there appeared n●●ther swelling or alteration, a skilful man deeming it to be but a fantasy conceived, or opinion, apprehended by eating of some gretty piece of bread, which happily night prick her in the swallow, made her to vomit, and unknown to her, cast a pin in that which she had vomited. Which the woman perceiving, & imagining she had cast the same, was presently eased of her pain. I have known a Gentleman, who having feasted a company of very honest Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, in his own house, by way of sport, and in jest, boasted two or three days after (for there was no such thing) that he had made them ea●e of a baked Cat; whereat the Gentlewoman of the company apprehended such horror, that falling into a violent ague and distemper of her stomach, she could by no means be recovered. Even brute beasts, as well as we, are seen to be subject to the power of imagination; witness some Dogs, who for sorrow of their Master's death are seen to die, and whom we ordinarily see to startle and bark in their sleep, and horses to neigh and struggle. But all this may be referred to the narrow suture of the Spirit and the body, entercommunicating their fortunes one unto another. It is another thing, that imagination doth sometimes work, not only against her own body, but also against that of others. And even as one body ejecteth a disease to his neighbour, as doth evidently appear by the plague, pox, or sore eyes, that go from one to another. Dum spectant oculi ●●sos, ●aeduntur & ipsi: ●uid. am. lib. 2. 219. Multáque corporibus transitione nocent. Eyes become sore, while they look on sore eyes: By passage many ills our limbs surprise. Likewise the imagination moved and tossed by some vehemence, doth cast some da●●, that may offend a strange object. Antiquity hath held, that certain women of Scythia, being provoked and vexed against some men, had the power to kill them, only with their look. The Tortoises and the Estriges hatch the●● eggs with their looks only, a sign that they have some ejaculative virtue. And concerning witches they are said to have offensive and harm working eyes. Virg. buc. ●●●. 3▪ ●03. Nescio quis teneros oculus mi●i fascinat agnos. My tender Lambs I cannot see, By what bad eye, bewitched be. Magicians are but ill respondents for me. So it is, that by experience we see women to transfer diverse marks of their fantasies, unto children they bear in their wombs: witness she that brought forth a Blacke-a-more. There was also presented unto Charles king of Bohemia, an Emperor, a young girl, borne about Pisa, all shagd and hairy over and over, which her mother said, to have been conceived so, by reason of an image of Saint john Baptist, that was so painted, & hung over her bed. That the like is in beasts, is witnessed by Jacob's sheep, and also by partridges and hares▪ that grow white by the snow upon mountains. There was lately seen a cat about my own house, so earnestly eyeing a bird, sitting upon a tree, that he seeing the Cat, they both so wistly fixed their looks one upon another, so long, that at last, the bird tell down as dead in the Cat's paws, either drunken by his own strong imagination, or drawn by some attractive power of the Cat. Those that love hawking, have happily heard the Falconers tale, who earnestly fixing his sight upon a Kite in the air, laid a wager that with the only force of his look, he would make it come stooping down to the ground, and as some report did it many times. The Histories I borrow, I refer to the consciences of those I take them from. The discourses are mine, and hold together by the proof of reason, not of experiences: each man may add his example to them: and who hath none, considering the number and variety of accidents, let him not leave to think, there are store of them. If I come not well for myself, let another come for me. So in the study wherein I treat of our manners and motions, the fabulous testimonies, always provided they be likely and possible, may serve to the purpose, as well as the true, whether it happened or no, be it at Rome, or at Paris, to john or Peter, it is always a trick of human capacity, of which I am profitably advised by this report. I see it and reap profit by it, as well in shadow as in body. And in diverse lessons that often histories afford, I commonly make use of that, which is most rare and memorable. Some writers there are, whose end is but to relate the events. Mine, if I could attain to it, should be to declare, what may come to pass, touching the same. It is justly allowed in schools, to suppose similitudes, when they have none. Yet do not I so, and concerning that point, in superstitious religion, I exceed all historical credit. To the examples I here set down, of what I have read, heard, done, or seen, I have forbid myself so much as to dare to change the least, or alter the idlest circumstances. My conscience doth not falsify the least jot. I wot not whether my insight doth. Concerning this subject I do sometimes enter into conceit, that it may well become a Divine, a Philosopher, or rather men of exquisite conscience, and exact wisdom, to write histories. How can they otherwise engage their credit upon a popular reputation? How can they answer for the thoughts of unknown persons? And make their bare conjectures pass for currant payment? Of the actions of diverse members, acted in their presence, they would refuse to bear witness of them, if by a judge they were put to their corporal oath. And there is no man so familiarly known to them, of whose inward intention they would undertake to answer at full I hold it le●●e hazardous to write of things past, then present; forasmuch as the writer is not bound to give account but of a borrowed truth. Some persuade me to write the affairs of my time, imagining, I can see them with a sight less blinded with passion, than other men, and perhaps nearer, by reason of the access which fortune hath given me to the chiefest of diverse factions. But they will not say, how for the glory of Sallust, I would not take the pains; as one that am a vowed enemy to observance, to assiduity, and to constancy, and that there is nothing so contrary to my style, as a continued narration. I do so often for want of breath break off and interrupt myself. I have neither composition nor explication of any worth. I am as ignorant as a child of the phrases and vowels belonging to common things. And therefore have I attempted to say what I can, accommodating the matter to my power. Should I take any man for a guide, my measure might differ from his. For, my liberty being so far, I might happily publish judgements, agreeing with me, and consonant to reason, yet unlawful and punishable. Plutarch would peradventure tell us of that which he hath written, that it is the work of others, that his examples are in all and everiewhere true, that they are profitable to posterity, and presented with a lustre, that lights and directs us unto virtue, and that is his work. It is not dangerous, as in a medicinable drug, whether in an old tale or report, be it thus or thus, so or so. The one and twentieth Chapter. The profit of one man is the d●mage of an other. DEmades the Athenian condemned a man of the City, whose trade was to sell such necessaries as belonged to burials, under colour, he asked too much profit for them: and that such profit could not come unto him without the death of many people. This judgement seemeth to be ill taken, because no man profiteth but by the loss of others: by which reason a man should condemn all manner of gain. The Merchant thrives not but by the licentiousness of youth; the Husband man by dearth of corn; the Architect but by the ruin of houses; the Lawyer by suits and controversies between men: Honour itself, and practise of religious Ministers, is drawn from our death and vices. No Physician delighteth in the health of his own friend, saith the ancient Greek Comike: nor no Soldier is pleased with the peace of his City and so of the rest. And which is worse, let every man sound his own conscience, he shall find, that our inward desires are for the most part nourished and bred in us by the loss and hurt of others; which when I considered, I began to think, how Nature doth not gainsay herself in this, concerning her general policy: for Physicians hold, that The birth, increase, and augmentation of every thing, is the alteration and corruption of another. Nam quodcunque suis mutatum finibus exit, Lucr li. 687. 813. li. 2. 762. li. 3. 536. Continuo hoc mors est illius, quod fuit ante. What ever from its bounds doth changed pass, That straight is death of that, which erst it was. The two and twentieth Chapter. Of custom, and how a received law should not easily be changed. MY opinion is, that he conveyed aright of the force of custom, that first invented this tale; how a country woman having enured herself to cherish and bear a young calf in her arms▪ which continuing, she got such a custom, that when he grew to be a great ox, she carried him still in her arms. For truly, Custom is a violent and deceiving school mistress. She by little and little, and as it were by stealth, establisheth the foot of her authority in us; by which mild and gentle beginning, if once by the aid of time, it have settled and planted the same in us, it will soon discover a furious and tyrannical countenance unto us, against which we have no more the liberty to lift so much as our eyes: we Pllu. epis. 20. may plainly see her upon every occasion to force the rules of Nature: Vsus efficacissimus rerum omnium magister. Use is the most effectual master of all things. I believe Plato's den mentioned in his common wealth, and the Physicians that so often quit their art's reason by authority; and the same King who by means of her, ranged his stomach to be nourished with poison; and the maiden that Albert mentioneth to have accustomed herself to live upon spiders: and now in the new found world of the Indians, there were found divers populous nations, in far differing climates, that lived upon them; made provision of them, and carefully fed them; as also of grasshoppers, pissemires, lizards, and night-bats; and a toad was sold for six crowns in a time that all such meats were scarce amongst them, which they boil, roast, bake, and dress with diverse kinds of sauces. Others have been found to whom our usual flesh and other meats were mortal and venomous. Consuetudinis Cic. Tusc. q●. 2. magna est vis, Perno●tant venatores in nive, in montibus uri se patiuntur: Pugiles caestibus contusi, ne ingemiscunt quidem. Great is the force of custom: Huntsmen wilwatch all night insnow, and endure to be scorched on the hills: Fencers bruised with (and-bags or cudgels, do not so much as groave. These foreign examples are not strange, if we but consider what we ordinarily find by travel, and how custom quaileth and weakeneth our customary senses. We need not go seek what our neighbour's report of the Cataracts of Nile; and what Philosophers deem of the celestial music, which is, that the bodies of its circles, being solid smooth, and in their rolling motion, touching and rubbing one against another, must of necessity produce a wonderful harmony: by the changes and entercaprings of which, the revolutions, motions, cadences, and carols of the asters and planets are caused and transported. But that universally the hearing senses of these low world's creatures, dizzied and lulled a sleep, as those of the Egyptians are, by the continuation of that sound, how loud and great soever it be, can not sensibly perceive or distinguish the same. Smiths, M●llers, Forgers, Armourers, and such other, could not possibly endure the noise that commonly rings in their ears, if it did pierce them as it doth us. My perfumed jerkin serveth for my nose to smell unto, but after I have worn it three or four days together, not I, but others have the benefit of it. This is more strange, that notwithstanding long intermissions, custom may join and establish the effect of her impression upon our senses; as they prove that dwell near to bells or steeples. I have my lodging near unto a tower▪ where both evening and morning a very great bell doth chime Ave marry and Cover-f●w, which jangling doth even make the tower to shake; at first it troubled me much, but I was soon acquainted with it, so that now I am nothing offended with it, and many times it can not waken me out of my sleep. Plato did once chide a child for playing with nuts, who answered him. Thou chidest me for a small matter. Custom replied Plato, is no small matter. I find that our greatest vices, make their fitst habitein us, from our infancy, and that our chief government and education, lieth in our nurse's hands. Some mothers think it good sport to see a child wring off a chickius-necke, and strive to beat a dog or cat. And some fathers are so fond foolish, that they will construe as a good Augur or fore-boding of a martial mind to see their sons misuse a poor peasant, or tug a lackey, that doth not defend himself; and impute it to a ready wit, when by some wily disloyalty, or crafty deceit, they see them cousin and overreach their fellows: yet are they the true seeds, or roots of cruelty, of tyranny, and of treason. In youth they bud, and afterward grow to strength, and come to perfection by means of custom. And it is a very dangerous institution, to excuse so base and vile inclinations, with the weakness of age, and lightness of the subject. First it is nature that speaketh, whose voice is then thriller, purer, and more native, when it is tender, newer, and youngest. secondly, the deformity of the crime consisteth not in the difference between crowns and pings; it depends of itself. I find it more just to conclude thus. Why should not he as well deceive one of a crown, as he doth of a pin? Then as commonly some do, saying, alas, it is but a pin. I warrant you, he will not do so with crowns. A man would carefully teach children to hate vices of their own genuity, and so distinguish the desormity of them, that they may not only eschew them in their actions, but above all, hate them in their hearts: and what coloursoever they bear, the very conceit may seem odious unto them. I know well, that because in my youth, I have ever accustomed myself to tread a plain beaten path; and have ever hated to intermeddle any manner of deceit of cousoning-craft, even in my childith sports (for truly it is to be noted, that children's plays are not sports, and should be deemed as their most serious actions.) There is no pastime so slight, that inwardly I have not a natural propension, and serious care, yea extreme contradiction, not to use any deceit. I shuffle and handle the cards, as earnestly for counters, and keep as strict an account, as if they were double ducats, when playing with my wife or children, it is indifferent to me whether I win or lose, as I do when I play in good earnest. How and wheresoever it be, mine own eyes will suffice to keep me in office; none else do watch me so narrowly; nor that I respect more. It is not long since in mine own house, I saw a little man, who at Na●●●s, was borne without arms, and hath so well fashioned his feet to those services, his hands should have done him, that in truth they have almost forgotten their natural office. In all his discourses he nameth them his hands, he carveth any meat, he chargeth and shoots off a pistol, he threads a needle, he soweth, he writeth, puts off his cap, combeth his head, playeth at cards and dice; shuffleth and handleth them with a great dexterity as any other man that hath the perfect use of his hands: the money I have sometimes given him, he hath carried away with his feet, as well as any other could do with his hands. I saw another, being a Child, that with the bending and winding of his neck, (because he had no hands) would brandish a two-hand-Sword, & manage a Halberd, as nimbly as any man could do with his hands: he would cast them in the air, then receive them again, he would throw a Dagger, and make a whip to yark and lash, as cunningly as any Carter in France. But her effects are much better discovered in the strange impressions, which it worketh in our minds where it meets not so much resistance. What cannot she bring to pass in our judgements, and in our conceits? Is there any opinion so fantastical, or conceit so extravagant (I omit to speak of the gross imposture of religions, wherewith so many great nations and so many worthy & sufficient men have been besotted, and drunken: For, being a thing beyond the compass of our human reason, it is more excusable if a man that is not extraordinarily illuminated thereunto by divine favour, do loose & miscarry himself therein) or of other opinions, is there any so strange, that custom hath not planted and established by laws in what regions soever it hath thought good? And this ancient exclamation is most just: Non pudet physicum, id est speculatorem venatorémque naturae, ab animis consuetudine imbutis quaerere testimonium veritatis? Is it not a shame for a natural Philosopher, that is the Cic. Nat De. l. 1. watchman and huntsman of nature, to seek the testimony of truth, from minds endued and double died with custom? I am of opinion, that no fantasy so mad can fall into human imagination, that meets not with the example of some public custom, and by consequence that our reason doth not ground and bring to a stay. There are certain people, that turn their backs towards those they salute, and never look him in the face whom they would honour or worship. There are others, who when the King spiteth, the most favoured Lady in his court stretched forth her hand; and in an other country, where the noblest about him, stoup to the ground to gather his ordure in some fine linen cloth: Let us here by the way insert a tale. A French Gentleman was ever wont to blow his nose in his hand, (a thing much against our fashion) maintaining his so doing; and who in witty jesting was very famous. He asked me on a time, what privilege this filthy excrement had, that we should have a dainty linen cloth or handkerchief to receive the same; and which is worse, so carefully fold it up, and keep the same about us, which should be more loathsome to one's stomach, than to see it cast away, as we do all our other excrements and filth. Me thought he spoke not altogether without reason: and custom had taken from me the discerning of this strangeness, which being reported of an other country we deem so hideous. Miracles are according to the ignorance wherein we are by nature, and not according to nature's essence; use brings the ●ight of our judgement a sleep. The barbarous heathen are nothing more strange to us, than we are to them: nor with more occasion, as every man would avow, if after he had traveiled through these far-fetched examples, he could stay himself upon the discourses, and sound confer them. human reason is a tincture in like weight and measure, infused into all our opinions and customs, what form soever they be of: infinite in matter: infinite in diversity. But I will return to my theme. There are certain people, where, except his wife and children, no man speaketh to the King, but through a trunk. Another nation, where virgins show their secret parts openly, and married women diligently hide and cover them. To which custom, this fashion used in other places, hath some relation: where chastity is nothing regarded but for marriage sake; and maidens may at their pleasure lie with whom they list; and being with child, they may without fear of accusation, spoil and cast their children, with certain medicaments, which they have only for that purpose. And in another country, if a Merchant chance to marry, all other Merchants that are bidden to the wedding, are bound to lie with the bride before her husband, and the more they are in number, the more honour and commendation is hers, for constancy and capacity: the like if a gentleman or an officer marry; and so of all others: except it be a day-labourer, or some other of base condition; for than must the Lord or Prince lie with the bride; amongst whom (notwithstanding this abusive custom) loyalty in married women is highly regarded, and held in special account, during the time they are married. Others there are, where public brothel-houses of men are kept, and where open mart of marriages are ever to be had: where women go to the wars with their husbands, and have place, not only in fight, but also in command, where they do not only wear jewels at their noses, in their lips, and cheeks, and in their toes, but also big wedges of gold through their paps and buttocks, where when they eat, they wipe their fingers on their thighs, on the bladder of their genitories, and the soles of their feet, where not children, but brethren and nephews inherit; and in some places, the nephews only, except in the succession of the Prince. Where to order the community of goods, which amongst them is religiously observed, certain Sovereign Magistrates have the general charge of husbandry and telling of the lands, and of the distribution of the fruits, according to every man's need, where they howl and weep at their children's deaths, and joy and feast at their old men's decease. Where ten or twelve men lie all in one bed with all their wives, where such women as lose their husbands, by any violent death, may marry again, others not: where the condition of women is so detested, that they kill all the maiden children, so soon as they are borne, and to supply their natural need, they buy women of their neighbours. Where men may at their pleasure, without alleging any cause put away their wives, but they (what just reason soever they have) can never put away their husbands. Where husbands may lawfully sell their wives, if they be barren. Where they cause dead bodies first to be boiled, and then to be brayed in a mortar, so long till it come to a kind of pap, which afterward they mingle with their wine, and so drink it. Where the most desired sepulchre that some wish for, is to be devoured of dogs, and in some places of birds. Where some think, that blessed souls live in all liberty, in certain pleasant fields stored with all commodities, and that from them proceeds that Echo, which we hear. Where they fight in the water, and shoot exceeding true with their bows as they are swimming. Where in sign of subjection men must raise their shoulders, and stoop with their heads, and put off their shoes when they enter their king's houses. Where eunuchs that have religious women in keeping, because they shall not be loved, have also their noses and lips cut off. And Priests that they may the better acquaint themselves with their Demons, and take their Oracles, put out their eyes▪ Where every man makes himself a God of what he pleaseth: the hunter of a Lion or a Fox; the fisher, of a certain kind of Fish; and frame themselves Idols of every human action or passion: the Sun, the Moon, and the earth are their chiefest Gods: the form of swearing is, to touch the ground, looking upon the Sun, and where they eat both flesh and fish raw. Where th● greatest oath is to swear by the name of some deceased man, that hath lived in good reputat on in the country, touching his grave with the hand. Where the newyears gifts that Kings send unto Princes their vassals every year, is some fire, which when it is brought, all the old fire is clean put out: of which new fire all the neighbouring people are bound upon pain laesae matestatis, to fetch for their uses. Where, when the King (which often cometh to pass) wholly to give himself unto devotion, giveth over his charge, his next successor is bound to do like, and convaieth the right of the kingdom unto the third heir. Where they diversify the form of policy, according as their affairs seem to require: and where they depose their Kings, when they think good, and appoint them certain ancient grave men to undertake and wealde the kingdom's government, which sometimes is also committed to the commonalty, Where both men and women are equally circumcised, and alike baptized. Where the Soldier, that in one or diverse combat hath presented his King with seven enemy's heads, is made noble. Where somelive under that so ra●e and unsociable opinion of the mortality of souls. Where women are brought a bed without pain of grief. Where women on both their legs wear greaus of Copper: and if a louse bite them, they are bound by duty of magnanimity to bite it again: and no maid dare marry, except she have first made offer of her Virginity to the King. Where they salute one another laying the forefinger on the ground, and then lifting it up toward heaven: where all men bear burdens upon their head, and women on their shoulders. Where women piss standing, and men cowering. Where in sign of true friendship they send one another some of their own blood, and offer insense to men which they intent to honour, as they do to their Gods: where not only kindred and consanguinity in the fourth degree, but in any furthest off, can by no means be tolerated in marriages: where children suck till they be four, and sometimes twelve years old, in which place they dame it a dismal thing to give a child suck the first day of his birth Where fathers have the charge to punish their male-childrens, and mother's only maide-childrens, and whose punishment is to hang them up by the feet, and so to smoke them. Where women are circumcised; where they eat all manner of herbs, without other distinction, but to refuse those that have ill savour: where all things are open, and how fair and rich soever their houses be, they have neither doors nor windows, nor any chests to lock; yet are all thieves much more severely punished there, than any where else; where, as monkeys do, they kill louse with their teeth, and think it a horrible matter to see them crushed between their naples; where men so long as they live never cut their hair, nor pair their nails: another place where they only pair the nails of their right hand, and those of the left are never cut, but very curiously maintained: where they endeavour to cherish all the hair growing on the right side, as long as it will grow: and very often shave away that of the left side: where in some Provinces near unto us, some women cherish their hair before, and othersome that behind, and shave the contrary: where fathers lend their children, and husbands their wives to their guests, so that they pay ready money: where men may lawfully get their mothers with child: where fathers may lie with their daughters, and with their sons: where, in solemn assemblies and banquets, without any distinction of blood or alliance, men will lend one another their children. In some places men feed upon human flesh, and in others, where it is deemed an office of piety in children to kill their fathers at a certain age: in other places fathers appoint what children shall live, and be preserved, and which die and be cast out, whilst they are yet in their mother's womb: where old husbands lend their wives to young men, for what use soever they please: In other places, where all women are common without sin or offence: yea in some places, where for a badge of honour, they wear as many frienged tassells, fastened to the skirt of their garment as they have lain with several men. Hath not custom also made a several commonwealth of women? hath it not taught them to manage Arms? to leavie Armies, to marshal men, and to deliver battles? And that which strickt-searching Philosophy could never persuade the wisest, doth she not of her own natural instinct teach it to the grofest headed vulgar? For we know whole nations, where death is not only condemned, but cherished; where children of seven years of age, without changing of countenance, or showing any ●igne of dismay endured to be whipped to death; where riches and worldly pelf was so despised and holden so contemptible, that the miserablest and need est wretch of a City would have scorned to stoop for a pursefull of gold. Have we not heard of diverse most fertile regions, plenteously yielding all manner of necessary victuals, where nevertheless the most ordinary cates and daintiest dishes, were but bread, watercresses, & water? Did not custom work this wonder in Chios, that during the space of seven hundred years it was never found or heard of, that any woman or maiden had her honour or honesty called in question? And to conclude, there is nothing in mine opinion, that either she doth not, or can not: and with reason doth Pindarus, as I have heard say, Call her the Queen and Empress of all the world. He that was met beating of his father, answered, It was the custom of his house; that his father had so beaten his grandfather, and he his great-grandfather; and pointing to his son, said, this child shall also beat me, when he shall come to my age. And the father, whom the son haled and dragged through thick and thin in the street, commanded him to stay at a certain door, for himself had dragged his father no further: which were the bounds of the hereditary and injurious demeanours the children of that family were wont to show their fathers. By custom, saith Aristotle, as often as by sickness, do we see women tug and tear their hairs, bite their nails, and eat coal and earth: and more by custom then by nature do men meddle and abuse themselves with men. The laws of conscience, which we say to proceed from nature, rise and proceed of custom: every man holding in special regard, and inward veneration the opinions approved, and customs received about him, can not without remorse leave them, nor without applause apply himself unto them: when those of Crete would informer ages curse any man, they besought the Gods to engage him in some bad custom. But the chiefest effect of her power is to seize upon us, and so to entangle us, that it shall hardly lie in us, to free ourselves from her holde-fast, and come into our wits again, to discourse and reason of her ordinances; verily, because we suck them with the milk of our birth, and forasmuch as the worlds visage presents itself in that estate unto our first view, it seemeth we are borne with a condition to follow that course. And the common imaginations we find in credit about us, and by our father's seed infused in our soul, seem to be the general and natural. Whereupon it followeth, that whatsoever is beyond the compass of custom, we deem likewise to be beyond the compass of reason. God knows how for the most part, unreasonably. If as we, who study ourselves, have learned to do, every man that heareth a just sentence, would presently consider, how it may in any sort belonging unto his private state, each man should find, that this is not so much a good word, as a good blow to the ordinary sottishness of his judgement. But men receive the admonitions of truth and her precepts, as directed to the vulgar, & never to themselves; and in lieu of applying them to their manners, most men most foolishly and unprofitably apply them to their memory. But let us return to custom's sovereignty, such as are brought up to liberty, and to command themselves, esteem all other form of policy, as monstrous and against nature. Those that are enured to Monarchy do the like. And what facility soever fortune affordeth them to change, even when with great difficulty they have shaken off the importunity of a tutor, they run to plant a new one with semblable difficulties, because they can not resolve themselves to hate tutorship. It is by the meditation of custom, that every man is contented with the place, where nature hath settled, him: and the savage people of Scotland have nought to do with Touraine, nor the Scythians with Thessaly. Darius' demanded of certain Grecians, For what they would take upon them the Indians custom, to eat their diseased fathers. (For such was their manner, thinking they could not possibly give them a more noble and favourable tomb, than in their own bowels) they answered him, That nothing in the world should ever bring them to embrace so inhuman a custom: But having also attempted to persuade the Indians to leave their fashion, and take the Grecians, which was to burn their corpses, they were much more astonished thereat. Every man doth so, forsomuch as custom doth so blear us that we can not distinguish the true visage of things. Nil adeo magnum, nec tam mirabile quicquam Luc. l. x. 1037. Principio, quod no● minuant mirarier omnes Paulatim. Nothing at first so wondrous is, so great, But all, t'admire, by little slake their heat. Having other times gone about to endear, and make some one of our observations to be of force, and which was with resolute authority received in most parts about us, and not desiring, as most men do, only to establish the same by the force of laws and examples, but having ever been from her beginning, I found the foundation of it so weak, that myself, who was to confirm it in others, had much ado to keep my countenance. This is the receipt by which Plato undertaketh to banish the unnatural and preposterous loves of his time; and which he esteemeth Sovereign and principal. To wit, that public opinion may condemn them; that Poets, and all men else may tell horrible tales of them. A receipt by means whereof the fairest Daughters win no more the love of their fathers, nor brethren most excellent in beauty, the love of their sisters. The very fables of Thyestes, of Oedipus and of Macareus, having with the pleasure of their songs infused this profitable opinion, in the tender conceit of children. Certes, chaftitie is an excellent virtue, the commodity whereof is very well known: but to use it, and according to nature to prevail with it, is as hard as it is easy, to endear it and to prevail with it according to custom, to laws and precepts. The first and universal reasons are of a hard perscutation. And our Masters pass them over in gleaning, or in not daring so much as to taste them, at first sight cast themselves headlong into the liberty or sanctuary of custom. Those that will not suffer themselves to be drawn out of his original source, do also commit a greater error, and submit themselves to savage opinions, witness Chrysippus; who in so many several places of his compositions, inserted the small account he made of conjunctions, how incestuous soever they were. He that will free himself from this violent prejudice of custom, shall find diverse things received with an undoubted resolution, that have no other anchor but the hoary head and frowning wrimples of custom, which ever attends them: which mask being pulled off, & referring all matters to truth and reason, he shall perceive his judgement, as it were overturned, and placed in a much surer state. As for example, I will then ask him, what thing can be more strange than to see a people bound to follow laws, he never understood? Being in all his domestical affairs, as marriages, donations, testaments, purchases, and sales, necessarily bound to costo? marry rules, which forsomuch as they were never written nor published in his own tongue, he cannot understand, and whereof he must of necessity purchase the interpretation and use. Not according to the ingenious opinion of Isocrates, who counseleth his King to make the Trafikes and negotiations of his subiests, free, enfranchised and gainful, and their debates, centroversies, and quarrels burdensome, and charged with great subsidies, and impositions: But according to a prodigious opinion, to make open sale, and traffic of reason itself, and to give laws a course of merchandise, is very strange. I commend fortune, for that (as our Historians report) it was a Gentleman of Gaskonie, and my Countryman, that first opposed himself against Charles the great, at what time he went about to establish the Latin and Imperial laws amongst us. What is more barbarous than to see a nation, where by lawful custom the charge of judging is sold, and judgements are paid for with ready money; and where justice is lawfully denied him, that hath not wherewithal to pay for it; and that this merchandise hath so great credit, that in a political government there should be set up a fourth estate of Lawyers, breath-sellers, and pettifoggers, and joined to the three ancient states, to wit, the Clergy, the Nobility, and the Commonalty; which fourth state having the charge of laws, and sometimes authority of goods and lives, should make a body, apart, and several from that of Nobility, whence double Laws must follow; those of honour, and those of justice; in many things very contrary do those as rigorously condemn a lie pocketed up, as these a lie revenged: by the law and right of arms he that putteth up an injury shallbe degraded of honour and nobility; and he that revengeth himself of it, shall by the civil Law incur a capital punishment? He that shall address himself to the Laws to have reason for some offence done unto his honour, dishonoureth himself. And who doth not so, is by the Laws punished and chastised. And of these so different parts, both nevertheless having reference to one head; those having peace, these war committed to their charge; those having the gain, these the honour: those knowledge, these virtue: those reason, these strength: those the word, these action: those justice, the sevalour: those reason these force: those a long gown, & these a short coat, in partage and share. Touching indifferent things, as clothes and garments, whosoever will reduce them to their true end, which is the service and commodity of the body, whence dependeth their original grace and comeliness, for the most fantastical to my humour that may be imagined, amongst others I will give them our square caps; that long hood of plaited velvet, that hangs over our women's heads, with his particoloured trail and that vain & unprofitable model of a member, which we may not so much as name with modesty, whereof notwithstanding we make public show, and open demonstration. These considerations do nevertheless never distract a man of understanding from following the common guise? Rather on the contrary, me seemeth, that all several, strange, and particular fashions proceed rather of folly, or ambitious effectation, than of true reason: and that a wise man ought inwardly to retire his mind from the common press, and hold the same liberty and power to judge freely of all things, but for outward matters, he ought absolutely to follow the fashions and form customarily received. Public society hath nought to do with our thoughts; but for other things, as our actions, our travel, our fortune, and our life, that must be accommodated and left to its service and common opinions: as that good and great Socrates, who refused to save his life by disobeying the magistrate, yea a magistrate most wicked and unjust. For that is the rule of rules, and general law of laws, for every man to observe those of the place wherein he liveth. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Gnom. Grac. ●. Laws of the the native place, To follow, is a grace. Lo here some of another kind. There riseth a great doubt, whether any so evident profit may be found in the change of a received law, of what nature soever, as there is hurt in removing the same; forsomuch as a well settled policy, may be compared to a frame or building of divers parts joined together with such a ligament as it is impossible to stir or displace one, but the whole body must needs be shaken, and show a feeling of it. The Thurians Lawgiver instituted, that, whosoever would go about, either to abolish any one of the old Laws, or attempt to establish a new, should present himself before the people with a rope about his neck, to the end, that if his invention were not approved of all men, he should presently be strangled. And he of Lacedaemon laboured all his life to get an assured promise of his citizens that they would never insringe any one of his ordinances. That Ephore or Tribune, who so rudely cut off the two strings, that Phrin●s had added unto music, respecteth not whether music be better or no with them, or whether the accords of it be better filled, he hath sufficient reason to condemn them, because it is an alteration of the old form. It is that which the old rusty sword of justice of Mars●ille did signify. I am distasted with novelty, what countenance soever it show: and I have reason so to be, for I have seen very hurtful effects follow the same. That which so many years since doth so presseus, hath not yet exploited all But some may allege with appearance, that by accident, it hath produced and engendered all, yea both the mischiefs and ruins, that since are committed without and against it: it is that a man should blame and find fault with. Heu pati●r telis vulnera facta meis, Ovid. epist. Phyl. 48. A 'las I suffer smart Procured by mine one dart. Those which attempt to shake an Estate, are commonly the first overthrown by the fall of it: he that is first mover of the same, reapeth not always the fruit of such troubles; he beats and troubleth the water for others to fish in. The contexture and combining of this monarchy, and great building, having been dismissed and dissolved by it, namely in her old years, giveth as much overture and entrance as a man will to like injuries. Royal Majesty doth more hardly fall from the top to the middle, than it tumbleth down from the middle to the bottom. But if the inventors are more damageable, the imitators are more vicious, to cast themselves into examples, of which they have both felt and punished the horror and mischief. And if there be any degree of honour, even in ill doing, these are indebted to others for the glory of the invention, and courage of the first attempt. All sorts of new licentiousness do happily draw out of this original and fruitful source, the images and patterns to trouble our commonwealth. We may read in our very laws, made for the remedy of the first evil, the apprentisage and excuse of all sorts of wicked enterprises: And in favour of publikevices, they are named with new and more pleasing words for their excuses, bastardising & allaying their true titles: yet it is to reform our consciences and our conceits, Honest a oratio est. It is an honest speech and well said. But the best pretence of innovation Teren. And. act. 1. sce. 1. or novelty is most dangerous: Adeò nihil motum ex antiquo probabile est. So nothing moved cut of the first place is allowable: Yet me seemeth (if I may speak boldly) that it argueth a great self-love and presumption, for a man to esteem his opinions so far, that for to establish them, a man must be feign to subvert a public peace, and introduce so many inevitable mischiefs, and so horrible a corruption of manners, as civil wars, and alterations of a state bring with them, in matters of such consequence, and to bring them into his own country. It is not ill husbanded to advance so many certain and known vices, for to combat contested and debatable errors? Is there any worse kind of vices, than those which shock a man's own conscience and natural knowledge? The Senate durst give this defeat in payment about the controversies between it and the people for the mystery of their religion: Ad deos, id magis quam ad se pertinere: ipsos visuros, ne sacra suapolluantur: That that did rather belong to the Gods than to them, and the Gods should look to it, that their due rites were not polluted. Agreeing with that, which the Oracle answered those of Delphos▪ in the Median war, fearing the invasions of the Persians. They demanded of that God what they should do with the treasures consecrated to his Temple, whether hide, or carry them away: who answered them, that they should remove nothing, but take care of themselves, for he was able to provide for all things that were fit for him. Christian religion hath all the marks of extreme justice & profit, but none more apparent than the exact commendation of obedience due unto magistrates, and manutention of policies: what wonderful example hath divine wisdom left us, which to establish the welfare of human kind, and to conduct this glorious victory of hers against death and sin, would not do it but at the mercy of our politic order, and hath submitted the progress of it, and the conduct of so high and worthy effect, to the blindness and injustice of our observations and customs, suffering the innocentbloud of so many her favoured elect to run, and allowing a long loss of years for the ripening of this inestimable fruit? There is much difference between the cause of him that followeth the forms and laws of his country, and him that undertaketh to govern and change them. The first allegeth for his excuse, simplicity, obedience, and example; whatsoever he doth cannot be malice, at the most it is but ill luck. Quis est enim, quem non move at Ci●. di●. l. 1. clarissimis monument is testata consignataque antiquita? For who is he whom antiquity will not move, being witnessed & signed with former monuments? Besides that which Isocrates saith, that defect hath more part in moderation, then hath excess. The other is in much worse case. For he that meddleth with choosing and changing, usurpeth the authority of judging: and must resolve himself, to see the fault of what he hunteth for, and the good of what he bringeth in. This so vulgar consideration hath confirmed me in my state, and restrained my youth, that was more rash, from burdening my shoulders with so filthy a burden, as to make myself respondent of so important a science. And in this to dare, what in sound judgement I durst not in the easiest of those wherein I had been instructed, and wherein the rashness of judging is of no prejudice. Seeming most impious to me, to go about to submit public constitutions and unmoveable observances, to the instability of a private fantasy (private reason is but a private jurisdiction) and to undertake that on devine-lawes, which no policy would tolerate in civil law. Wherein although man's reason have much more commerce, yet are they soverainly judges of their judges: and their extreme sufficiency, serveth to expound custom and extend the use, that of them is received, and not to divert and innovate the same. If at any time divine providence hath gone beyond the rules, to which it hath necessary constrained us, it is not to give us a dispensation from them. They are blows of liar divine hand, which we ought not imitate, but admire: as extraordinary examples, marks of an express and particular avowing of the several kinds of wonders, which for a testimony of her omnipotency it offereth us, beyond our orders and forces, which it is folly and impiety to go about to represent, and which we ought not follow but contemplate with admiration, and meditate with astonishment. Acts of her parsonage, and not of ours. Co●ta protesteth very opportunely. Quum de religione agitur, T. Coruncanum, P. Seipionem, P. Scaevolam, Pontifices Ci●. De Nat. l. 3 p. maximos, non Zenonem, aut Cleanthem, aut Chrysippum, sequor. When we talk of religion, I follow Titus Coruncanus, Publius Scipio, P. Scaevola, and the professors of religion, not Zeno, Cleanthes. or Chrysippus. May God know it in our present quarrel, wherein are a hundred articles, yea, great and deep articles, to be removed and altered, although many there are, who may boast to have exactly survaid the reasons and foundations of one and other faction. It is a number, if it be a number, that should have no great mean to trouble us. But whither goeth all this other throng? Under what colours doth it quarter itself? It followeth of theirs, as of other weak and ill applied medicines, the humours, that it would have purged in us, it hath inflamed exasperated, and sharpened, by her conflict, and still do remain in our bodies. It could not by reason of her weakness purge us, but hath rather weakened us; so that we cannot now, void it, and by her operation we reap nothing but long, continual, and intestine griefs and aches, yet is it, that fortune, ever reserving her authority above our discourses, doth sometimes present us the urgent necessity, that laws must needs yield her some place: And when a man resisteth the increase of an innovation, brought in by violence, to keep himself each-where and altogether in rule and bridle against those that have the keys of fields, to whom all things are lawful, that may in any sort advance their design, that have not law, nor order, but to follow their advantage, it is a dangerous obligation and prejudicial inequality. Aditum nocendi perfido praestat fides. Sen. Oed. Act. 3. se●. 1. Trust in th'untrusty, may To hurt make open way. For so much as the ordinary discipline of an estate, that hath his perfect health, doth not provide for these extraordinary accidents, it presupposeth a body holding itself in his principal members and offices, and a common consent to observe and obey it. Lawful proceeding, is a cold, dull, heavy, and forced proceeding: and is not like to hold out against a licentious and unbridled proceeding. It is yet as all men know, a reproach to those two great personages, Octavius and Cato, in their civil wars; the one of Scylla, the other of Caesar, because they rather suffered their country to incur all extremities, then by her laws to aid her, or to innovate any thing. For truly in these last necessities, where nothing is left to take hold by, it were peradventure better, to shrug the shoulders, stoop the head, and somewhat yield to the struck, then beyond possibility to make head and resist, and be nothing the better, and give violence occasion to trample all underfoot: and better were it to force the laws to desire but what they may, since they may not what they would. So did he that ordained them to sleep four and twenty hours: And he who for a time removed one day from the Calendar: And another who of the month of june made a second May. The Lacedæmonians themselves, so strict observers of their country's ordinances, being urged by their Laws, which precisely forbade and inhibited to choose one man twice to be their Admiral, and on the other side their affairs necessarily requiring, that Lysander should once more take that charge upon him, they created one Aracus Admiral, but instituted Lysander superintendant of all maritine causes. And with the same subtlety, one of their Ambassadors being sent to the Athenians for to obtain the change of some ordinance, Pericles alleging, that it was expressly forbid to remove the table, wherein a law had once been set down, persuaded him but to turn it, for that was not forbidden. It is that whereof Plutarch commendeth Philopaemen, who being borne to command, could not only command according to the laws, but the laws themselves, whensoever public necessity required it. The three and twentieth Chapter. divers events from one self same counsel. I Ames Amiot, great Almoner of France, did once tell me this story, to the honour of one of our Princes. (And so he was indeed by very good tokens, albeit by offspring he were a stranger) that during our first troubles, at the siege of Roan, the said Prince being advertised by the Queen-mother of a conspiracy and enterprise, that should be attempted against his life, and by letters particularly informed him of the party that should perform it, who was a gentleman of An●ow, or Manse, and who to that purpose did ordinarily frequent the said Princes court; he never imparted that secret or communicated that warning to any man, but the next morrow walking upon Saint Catherins' hill, whence our battery played against the town (for it was, at what time we laid siege to Roan) with the said Lord great Almoner: and another Bishop by his side, he chanced to descry the said gentleman, whom the Queen-mother had described unto him, and caused him to be called, who being come before his presence, said thus unto him, perceiving him already to wax pale, and tremble at the alarms of his conscience: Master, such a one, I am fully persuaded you fore-imagine what I will charge you with, and your countenance doth plainly show it, you can conceal nothing from me: for I am so well instructed of your business, that would you go about to hide it, you should but mar all you have perfect knowledge of this and this thing, (which were the chiefest props and devises of the secretest drifts of his complot and conspiracy) fail not therefore as you tender your life, to confess the truth of all your purpose. When the silly man saw himself so surprised and convicted (for the whole matter had been discovered unto the Queen by one of the complices) he had no other way, but to lift up his hands, and beg for grace and mercy at the Prince's hands, at whose feet he would have prostrated himself, but that he would not let him: thus following his discourse. Come hither my friend, said he, Did I ever do you any displeasure? Have I ever through any particular hatred, wronged or offended any friend of yours? It is not yet three weeks since I knew you, what reason might move you to conspire and enterprise my death? The Gentleman with a faint-trembling voice, and self-accusing look answered him, that no particular occasion had ever moved him to that, but the interest of the general cause of his faction, and that some of them had persuaded him, that to root out, and in what manner soever, to make away so great an enemy of their religion, would be an execution full of piety, and a work of supererogation. Then said the Prince, I will show you how much the religion which I profess is more mild, than that whereof you make profession: yours hath persuaded you to kill me, without hearing me, having never been offended by me: and mine, commands me to pardon you, convicted as you are, that you would so treacherously and without cause have killed me. Go your way, withdraw yourself, let me never see you here again, and if you be wise, henceforward in your enterprises take bonester men for your counsellors, than those of your religion. The Emperor Augustus being in Gaul, received certain advertisement of a conspiracy, that L. Cinna complotted against him, whereof he purposed to be avenged, and for that purpose sent to all his friends against the next morrow for advise and counsel, but passed the foregoing night with great anxiety and unrest, considering that following his intent, he should bring a young Gentleman, well borne, of a noble house, and great Pompey's nephew, to his death: which perplexity produced diverse strange discourses and consideration in him. What? said he unto himself, Shall it ever be reported, that I do live in fear, and suffer mine enemy to walk at his pleasure and liberty? Shall he then go free, that hath attempted and resolved to deprive me of my life, which both by sea and land I have saved from so many civil wars, and from so many battles? And now that I have established an universal peace in the world, shall he be absolved and go unpunished, that hath, not only determined to murder, but to sacrifice me? (For, the complot of the conspiracy was to murder him, when he should be at sacrifice.) After that, having taken some rest with himself, he with a louder voice began to exclaim and cry out against himself, saying, Why livest thou, if the lives of so many depend on thy death? Shall thy vengeance and cruelties never have an end? Is thy life of that worth, as it may counter vail the sundry mischiefs that are like to ensue, if it be preserved? Livia his wife being in bed with him, perceiving his agony, and hearing his speeches, said thus unto him: And may not women's counsels be admitted? Do as Physicians are wont, who when their ordinary receipts will not work, have recourse to the contrary. Hitherto thou couldst never do any good with severity: Lepidus hath followed Savidienus, Murena Lepidus, Coepio Murena, Egnatius Scoepio, begin now to prove what good lenity and clemency will do thee. Cinna is convicted, pardon him: To annoy or hurt thee now, he is not able, and thou shalt thereby increase thy glory. Augustus seemed very glad to have found an Advocate of his humour, and having thanked his wife, and countermanded his friends, whom he had summoned to the Counsel, commanded Cinna to be brought before him alone. Then sending all men out of his chamber, and a chair prepared for Cinna to sit in, he thus bespoke him: First Cinna, I require to have gentle audience, and that thou wilt not interrupt my speech, which ended, I will give thee time and leisure to answer me: Thou knowest (oh Cinna) that when I had taken thee prisoner in mine enemy's camp, who wast not only become, but borne my foe; I saved thee, then put thee in quiet possession of thy goods, and at last, have so enriched thee, and placed thee in so high a degree, that even the conquerors are become envious over the conquered. The priests office, which thou beggedst at my hands, I freely bestowed on thee, having first refused the same to others, whose fathers and friends had in many battles shed their blood for me: After all which benefits, and that I had in duty tied thee so fast unto me, thou hast notwithstanding undertaken to kill me. To whom Cinna replied, crying aloud, That he had never so much as conceived so wicked a thought, much less entertained the same. Oh Cinna, this is not according to thy promise, answered then Augustus, which was, that thou wouldst not interrupt me: What I say, is true, thou hast undertaken to murder me, in such a place, on such a day, in such a company, and in such manner: and seeing him so amazed in heart, and by his evidence strucken dumb, moved thereunto, not by the condition of his promise, but by the guilt of his self-accusing conscience; why wouldst thou do it, replied he, is it because thou wouldst be Emperor? Truly the commonwealth is but in hard condition, if none but myself hinder thee from the Empire. The● canst not so much as defend thine own house, and didst but lately lose a process, only by the favour of aseely libertine. What? hast thou no mean or power in any other matter, but to attempt Caesar's life? I quit it, if there be no man but myself to impeach thy hopes. Supposest thou that Paulus, that Fabius, that the Cossenians or the Servillianes will ever permit thee? And so great a troop of noble men, noble, not only in name, but such as by their virtues honour their nobility, will ever suffer it? After many other such like discourses (for he talked with him more than two hours) he said unto him; Away, oh Cinna, that life which once I gave thee, as to an enemy, I now give thee again, as to a traitor, and a patricide: let a true friendship from this day forward begin between us, let us strive together, which of us two with a better faith shall outgo the other, and whether I have given thy life, or thou hast received the same with great confidence: and so left him. Shortly after he gave him the Consulship, blaming him that he durst not ask it of him. And ever after held him as his dear friend, and made him alone, heir and executor of his goods. Now after this accident, which happened to Augustus in the xl. year of his age, there was never any conspiracy or enterprise attempted against him; and he received a just reward for his so great clemency. But the like succeeded not to our Prince, for his mildness and lenity, could not so warrant him, but that afterward he fell into the snares of the like treason: so vain and frivolous a thing is human wisdom: and contrary to all projects, devises, counsels, & precautions, fortune doth ever keep a full sway and possession of all events. We count those Physicians happy and successful, that successfully end a desperate cure, or come to a good issue: as if there were no other art but theirs, that could not subsist of itself, and whose foundations were too feeble, to stand and rely upon her own strength: and as if there were none but it, that stands in need of fortunes helpe-affoording hand, for the effecting of her operations. My conceit of it, is both the worst and the best a man may imagine: for thanks be to God, there is no commerce between us: I am contrary to others; for I ever despise it, and when I am sick, in stead of entering into league or composition with it, I then begin to hate and fear it most: and answer such as urge me to take Physic, that at least they will tarry till such time as I have recovered my health and strength again; that then I may the better be enabled to endure the violence and hazard of their potions. I let nature work, and presuppose unto myself, that she hath provided herself, both of teeth and claws, to defend herself from such assaults as shall beset her, and to maintain this contexture or frame, whose dissolution it so much hateth. In lieu of bringing help unto her, when she most striveth, and is combated by sickness, I greatly fear lest I bring succour unto her adversary, and surcharge her with new enemies. Now I conclude, that not only in Physic, but likewise in sundry more certain arts, fortune hath great share in them. The Poetical furies, which ravish and transport their Author beyond himself, why shall we not ascribe them to his good fortune, since himself confesseth, that they exceed his strength and sufficiency, and acknowledgeth to proceed from elsewhere, than from himself, and that they are not in his power, no more than Orators say to have those strange motions and extraordinary agitations, that in their art transport them beyond their purpose? The like we see to be in painting, for sometimes the Painter's hand shall draw certain lines or draughts, so far exceeding his conception or skill, that himself is forced to enter into admiration and amazement. But fortune yet doth much more evidently show, the share she hath in all their works, by the graces and beauties that often are found in them, not only beyond the intent, but besides the very knowledge of the workman. A heedy Reader shall often discover in other men's compositions, perfections farre-differing from the Author's meaning, and such as haply he never dreamt of, and illustrateth them with richer senses, and more excellent constructions. As for military enterprises, no man is so blind but seethe what share fortune hath in them: even in our counsels and deliberations, some chance or good luck must needs be joined to them, for whatsoever our wisdom can effect, is no great matter. The sharper and quicker it is, more weakness finds it in itself, and so much the more doth it distrust itself. I am of Silla's opinion: and when I nearest consider the most glorious exploits of war, me thinks I see, that those who have the conduct of them, employ neither counsel nor deliberation about them, but for fashion-sake, and leave the best part of the enterprise to fortune, and on the confidence they have in her aid, they still go beyond the limits of all discourse. Casual rejoicings, and strange furies ensue among their deliberations, which for the most induce them to take the counsel least grounded upon appearance or reason, and which quail their courage beyond reason; whence it hath succeeded unto divers great Captains, by giving credit to such rash counsels, and alleging to their soldiers, that by some divine inspiration, and other signs and prognostications, they were encouraged to such and such enterprises. Lo here wherefore in this uncertainty and perplexity, which the impuissances and inability doth bring us to see and choose what is most commodious, for the difficulties which the diverse accidents and circumstances of every thing draw with them: the surest way, if other considerations did not invite us thereto, is, in my conceit, to follow the party, wherein is most honesty and justice; and since a man doubteth of the nearest way, ever to keep the right. As in these two examples I have lately mentioned, there is no doubt, but that it was more commendable and generous in him, who had received the offence, to remit and pardon the same, than to have done otherwise. If the first had but ill success, his good intent is not to be blamed; and no man knoweth, had he taken the contrary way, whether he should have escaped the end, to which his destiny called him; and then had he lost the glory and commendations, of so seld-seen humanity. Sundry men possessed with this fear, are read-of in ancient Histories; the greatest part of which have followed the way of forerunning the conspiracies, which were complotted against them, by revenge or tortures, but I see very few, that by this remedy have received any good; witness so many Roman Emperors. He that perceiveth himself to be in this danger, ought not much to rely upon his power, or hope in his vigilancy. For, how hard a matter is it, for a man to warrant and safeguard himself from an enemy, that masks under the visage of the most officious and heartie-seeming friend we have? And to know the inward thoughts and minde-concealed meanings of such as daily attend, and are continually with us? It will little avail him to have foreign nations to his guard, and ever to be encircled about with troops of Armed men; whosoever he be that resolveth to condemn his own life, may at any time become master of other men's lives. Moreover that continual suspicion, which makes the Prince to mistrust every body, should be a wonderful vexation to his mind. And therefore when Dion was advertised that calippus watched to kill him, could never find in his heart to inform himself of it: affirming; He had rather die once, than ever live in fear and misery, and to guard himself not only from his enemies, but from his very friends. Which thing Alexander presented more lively and undauntedly by effect, who by a letter of Parme●●o having received advertisement, that Philip his nearest and best regarded Physician, had with money been suborned and corrupted by Darius, to poison him, who at the very instant that he gave Philip the letter to read, swallowed down a potion he had given him: was it not to express his resolution, that if his friends would kill him, he would not shun them, but consent to their treachery? This Prince is the Sovereign pattern of hazardous attempts: yet know I not whether in all his life, he showed an act of more resolute constancy, than this, nor an ornament so many ways famous. Those which daily preach and buzz in Princes ears, under colour of their safety a hee●y diffidence and ever-warie distrustfulness, do nought but tell them of their ruin, and further their shame and downfall. No noble act is achieved without danger. I know one by his own complexion of a right martial courage, and ready for any resolution, whose good and hopeful fortune is daily corrupted by such verbal persuasions; as first to keep close with his friends; never to listen to any reconciliation with his old enemies: to stand upon his own guard; never to commit himself to any stronger than himself, what fair promse soever they make him, or whatsoever apparent profit they seem to contain. I also know another, who because he did ever follow the contrary counsel, and would never listen to such schoole-reasons, hath beyond all hope raised his fortune above the common reach. That boldness wherewith they so greedily gape after glory, is always at hand, when ever need shall be, as gloriously in a doublet as in an armour; in a cabinet as in a camp; the arm held down, as lifted up. A wisdom so tenderly-precise, and so precisely-circumspect, is a mortal enemy to haughty executions. Scipio, to sound the depth of Syphax intent, and to discover his mind; leaving his army, and abandoning the yet unsettled country of Spain, which under his new conquest of it, was likely to be suspected, he I say, could pass into Africa only with two simple ships or small barks, to commit himself in a strange and foe country, to engage his person, under the power of a barbarous King, under an unknown faith, without either hostage, or letters of credence, yea without any body, but only upon the assurance of the greatness of his courage, of his successful good fortune, and of the promise of his high-raised hopes. Habita fides ipsam plerumque fidem obligat. Most commonly trusting obligeth trustiness. To an ambitious and fameaspiring mind, chose, a man must yield little, and carry a hard hand against suspicions: Fear and distrust draw on offences and allure them. The most mistrustful of our Kings established his affairs, and settled his estate, especially because he had voluntarily given over, abandoned and committed his life and liberty, to the hands and mercy of his enemies: Seeming to put his whole confidence in them, that so they might likewise conceive an undoubted affiance in him. Caesar did only confront his mutinous legions, and oppose his hardly-ruled Armies, with the minde-quelling authority of his countenance, and awemooving fierceness of his words: and did so much trust himself and his fortune, that he no whit feared to abandon and commit himself to a seditious and rebellious Army. — stetit aggere ful●● Lucan. li. 5. 296. Caspitis, intrepitus vultu, meruitque timeri Nil metuens. He on arampart stood of turf upreared, Fearless, and fearing none was to be feared. True it is, that this undaunted assurance can not so fully and lively be represented, but by those in whom the imagination or apprehension of death, and of the worst that may happen, can strike no amazement at all: for, to represent it fearefully-trembling, doubtful and uncertain, for the service of an important reconciliation, is to effect no great matter: It is an excellent motive to gain the heart and good will of others, for a man to go and submit himself to them, provided it be done freely, and without constraint of any necessity, and in such sort, that a man bring a pure and unspotted confidence with him, and at least his countenance void of all scruple. Being yet a child, I saw a gentleman, who had the command of a great City, and by a commotion of a seditiously-furious people greatly put to his plunges, who to suppress the rising-fire of this tumult, resolved to sally out from a strongly-assured place, where he was safe, and yield himself to that many-headed monster mutinous rout; thrived so ill by it, that he was miserably slain amongst them: yet deem I not his oversight to have been so great an issuing out, his memory being of most men condemned, as because he took a way of submission, and remissness, and attempted to extinguish that rage and hurly burly, rather by way of following, than of guiding, and by requiring suit, than by demonstrative resolution: and I deem a gratiously-milde severity, with a military commandment, full of confidence and security, beseeming his rank, and the dignity of his charge, had better availed him, had been more successful, at least with more honour, and well seeming comeliness. There is nothing less to be expected or hoped for at the hands of this monstrous-faced-multitude, thus agitated by fury, than humanity and gentleness; it will much sooner receive reverence, and admit fear. I might also blame him, that having undertaken a resolution (in my judgement, rather brave then rash) to cast himself inconsiderately, weak and unarmed, amidst a tempestuous Ocean of senseless and mad men, he should have gone throughstitch with it, and not leave the person he represented in the briars, whereas, after he had perceived the danger at hand, he chanced to bleed at the nose; and then to change that demisse and flattering countenance he had undertaken, into a dismayed and drooping look, filling both voice and eyes with astonishment and repentance: and seeking to squat himself, he the more inflamed, and called them upon him. It was determined, there should be a general muster made of diverse troops of armed men (a place fittest for secret revenges, and where they may safest be achieved) there were most apparent reasons, that the place was very unsure, or at least, to be suspected, by such as were to have the principal and necessary charge to survey them. Divers counsels were proposed, sundry opinions heard, as in a subject of great difficulty, and on which depended so many weighty consequences. My advice was, they should carefully avoid to give any testimony of suspicion, or show of doubt, and that our troops should be as full as might be, and the Files orderly ranked, and every Soldier show an undaunted carriage, and undismaied countenance, and in stead of keeping some of our forces back (which thing most opinions aimed at) all Captains should be put in mind to admonish their Soldiers to make their sallies as orderly and as strong as might be, in honour of the assistance; and spare no powder, which would serve as a gratification toward these suspectful troops, which afterward caused a mutual and profitable confidence. I find the course that Iu●●●s Caesar held to be the best a man may take: First he asseved by clemency to purchase the love of his very enemies, contenting himself in the conspiracies that were discovered unto him, simply to show they were not unknown to him, but had perfect notice of them. That done, he took a most noble resolution, which was, without dread or dismay, or any care-taking, to attend whatsoever might betide him, wholly abandoning and remitting himself into the hands of the Gods and of fortune. For certainly, it is the state wherein he was, when he was murdered in the Senate. A stranger having published every where, that he could teach Dionysius the tyrant of Siracusa away to understand and discover the very certainty of all the practices, his subjects or any else should practise against him, if he would bestow a good sum of money upon him: Dionysius being thereof advertised, sent for him, to discover the secret and understand the truth of so necessary an art for his preservation: the stranger told him, there was no other skill in his art, but that he should deliver him a talon, and then boast he had learned the use of so unvaluable a secret of him. Dionysius allowed of his invention, and forthwith caused six hundred crowns to be delivered him. It is not likely that ever he would have given so great a sum of money to an unknown man, but in reward of a most profitable instruction; for by way of this reputaion he kept his enemies still in awe. And therefore do Princes wisely publish such advertisements as they receive of the plots conspired, and treasons, practised against their lives and states, thereby to make men believe, that nothing can be attempted against them, but they shall have knowledge of it. The Duke of Athens committed many fond oversights in the establishing of his late tyranny upon the Florentines, but this the chiefest, that having received the first advertisement of the Monopolies and Complots the Florentines contrived against him, by Matthew, surnamed Morozo, one of the complices, thinking to suppress this warning, and conceal that any in the City were offended at him, or grudged at his rule, caused him immediately to be put to death. I remember to have heretofore read the story of a Roman (a man of special dignity) who flying the tyranny of the triumvirate, had many times by the subtlety of his invention, escaped those who pursued him. It fortuned upon a day, that a troop of horsemen, who had the charge to apprehend him, passing alongst a hedge, under which he lay lurking, had well nigh discovered him; which he perceiving, and considering the dangers and difficulties he had so long endured, thinking, to save himself from the continual and daily searches that every where were made after him, and calling to mind the small pleasure he might hope of such a life, and how much better it were for him to die once, than live in such continual fear and agony, himself called them, and voluntarily discovered his lurking hole, and that he might rid them and himself from further pursuit and care, did willingly yield unto their cruelty. For a man to call his enemies to aid him, is a counsel somewhat rash, yet think I, it were better to embrace it, than remain still in the continual fit of such a fever that hath no remedy. But since the provisions of man may apply unto it, are full of unquietness and uncertainty, much better is it with a full assurance to prepare himself patiently to endure whatsoever may happen, and draw some comfort from that, which a man is never sure shall come to pass. The four and twentieth Chapter. Of Pedantisme. I Have in my youth oftentimes been vexed, to see a Pedant brought in, in most of Italian comedies, for a vice or sporte-maker, and the nicke-name of Magister to be of no better signification amongst us. For, myself being committed to their tuition, how could I choose but be somewhat jealous of their reputation? In deed I sought to excuse them by reason of the natural disproportion, that is between the vulgar sort, and rate and excellent men, both in judgement and knowledge: forsomuch as they take a clean contrary course one from another. But when I considered, the choicest men were they, that most contemned them, I was far to seek, and as it were lost myself, witness our good Bellaye: Mais ie hay par sur tout unscavoir pedantesque. Bellay. A pedant knowledge, I Detest out of all cry. Yet is this custom very ancient; for Plutarch saith, that Greek and Scholar, were amongst the Romans, words of reproach and imputation. And coming afterwards to years of more discretion, I have found they had great reason, and that, magis magnos clericos, non sunt magis magnos sapientes. The most greatest Clerks is not the most wisest men. But whence it may proceed, that a mind rich in knowledge, and of so many things, becometh thereby never livelier nor more quicksighted; and a grose-headed, and vulgar spirit, may without amendment, contain the discourse and judgement of the most excellent wits, the world ever produced, I still remain doubtful. To receive so many, so strange, yea and so great wits, it must needs follow (said once a Lady unto me, yea one of our chiefest Princesses, speaking of some body) that a man's own wit, force, droop, and as it were diminish itself, to make room for others. I might say, that as plants are choked by overmuch moisture, and lamps dammed with too much oil, so are the actions of the mind overwhelmed by over-aboundance of matter and study: which occupied and entangled with so great a diversity of things, looseth the mean to spread and clear itself; and that surcharge keepeth it low-drooping and faint. But it is otherwise, for our mind stretcheth the more by how much more it is replenished. And in examples of former times, the contrary is seen, of sufficient men in the managing of public affairs, of great Captains, and notable Counsellors in matters of estate, to have been therewithal excellently wise. And concerning Philosophers, retired from all public negotiations, they have indeed sometimes been vilified, by the comike liberty of their times, than opinions and demeanours yielding them ridiculous. Will you make them judges of the right of a process, or of the actions of a man? They are ready for it. They inquire whether there be any life yet remaining, whether any motion. Whether man be any thing but an Ox, what working or suffering is; what strange beasts law and justice are. Speak they of the Magistrate, or speak they unto him? They do it with an unreverent and uncivil liberty. Hear they a Prince or a King commended? He is but a shepherd to them, as idle as a Swain busied about milking of his cattle, or shearing of his sheep: but yet more rudely. Esteem you any man the greater for possessing two hundred acres of land? They scoff at him, as men accustomed to embrace all the world, as their possession. Do you boast of your Nobility, because you can blazon your descent of seven or eight rich Grandfathers? They will but little regard you, as men that conceive not the universal image of nature, and how many predecessors every one of us hath had, both rich and poor, kings and grooms, greeks and Barbarians. And were you lineally descended in the fiftieth degree from Hercules, they deem it a vanity to vaunt or allege this gift of fortune. So did the vulgar sort disdain them as ignorant of the first and common things, and as presumptuous and insolent. But this Platonical lustre is far from that which our men stand in need of. They were envied as being beyond the common sort, as despising public actions, as having proposed unto themselves a particular and inimitable life, aiming and directed at certain high discourses, and from the common use: these are disdained as men beyond the ordinary fashion, as incapable of public charges, as leading an unsociable life, and professing base and abject customs, after the vulgar kind. Odi homines ignavos opera, Philosophos sententia. Pac●●i●s Lip●. l. 1. c. 10. I hate men that are fools in working, and Philosophers in speaking. As for those Philosophers, I say, that as they were great in knowledge, so were they greater in all action. And even as they report of that Syracusan Geometrician, who being taken from his bookish contemplation, to show some practice of his skill, for the defence of his country, reared suddenly certain terror-moving engines, and showed effects far exceeding all men's conceit, himself notwithstanding disdaining all this his handie-worke, supposing he had thereby corrupted the dignity of his art; his engines and manual works being but the apprenticeships, and trials of his skill in sport. So they, if at any time they have been put to the trial of any action, they have been seen to fly so high a pitch, and with so lofty a flight, that men might apparently see their minds and spirits were through the intelligence of things, become wonderfully rich and great. But some perceiving the seat of politic government possessed by unworthy and incapable men, have withdrawn themselves from it. And he who demanded of Crates, how long men should Philosophise, received this answer, until such time as they who have the conduct of our Armies be no longer blockish asses. Heraclitus resigned the royalty unto his brother. And to the Ephesians, who reproved him for spending his time in playing with children before the temple: he answered, And is it not better to do so, then to govern the public affairs in your company? Others having their imagination placed beyond fortune and the world, found the seat of justice, and the thrones of Kings, to be but base and vile. And Empedocles refused the royalty, which the Agrigentines offered him. Thales sometimes accusing the cark and care men took about good husbandry, and how to grow rich; some replied unto him, that he did as the Fox, because he could not attain unto it himself: which hearing, by way of sport he would needs show by experience how he could at his pleasure become both thrifty and rich; and bending his wits to gain and profit, erected a traffic, which within one year brought him such riches, as the skilfullest in the trade of thriving, could hardly in all their life devise how to get the like. That which Aristotle reporteth of some, who called both him, and Anaxagoras, and such like men, wise, and not prudent, because they cared not for things more profitable: beside, I do not very well digest this nice difference of words, that serveth my find-fault people for no excuse: and to see the base and needy fortune, wherewith they are content, we might rather have just cause to pronounce them, neither wise nor prudent. I quit this first reason, and think it better to say, that this evil proceedeth from the bad course they take to follow sciences; and that respecting the manner we are instructed in them, it is no wonder if neither Scholars nor Masters, howbeit they prove more learned, become no whit more sufficient. Verily the daily care, and continual charges of our fathers, aimeth at nothing so much, as to store our heads with knowledge and learning; as for judgement and virtue, that is never spoken of. If a man pass by, cry out to our people; Oh what a wise man goeth yonder? And of another: Oh what a good man is yonder? He will not fail to cast his eyes and respect toward the former. A third crier were needful, to say, Oh what blocke-heads are those! We are ever ready to ask, Hath he any skill in the Greek and Latin tongue? can he write well? doth he write in prose or verse? But whether he be grown better or wiser, which should be the chiefest of his drift, that is never spoken of, we should rather inquire who is better wise, than who is more wise. We labour, and toil, and plod to fill the memory, and leave both understanding and conscience empty. Even as birds flutter and skip from field to field to peck up corn, or any grain, and without tasting the same, carry it in their bills, therewith to feed their little ones; so do our pedants glean and pick learning from books, and never lodge it further than their lips, only to degorge and castit to the wind. It is strange how fitly sottisnnesse takes hold of mine example. Is not that which I do in the greatest part of this composition, all one and self same thing? I am ever here and there picking and culling, from this and that book, the sentences that please me, not to keep them (for I have no storehouse to reserve them in) but to transport them into this: where, to say truth, they are no more mine, then in their first place: we are (in mine opinion) never wise, but by present learning, not by that which is past, and as little by that which is to come. But which is worse, their Scholars, and their little ones are never a whit the more fed or better nourished: but passeth from hand to hand, to this end only, thereby to make a glorious show, therewith to entertain others, and with its help to frame some acquaint stories, or pretty tales, as of a light and counterfeit coin, unprofitable for any use or employment, but to reckon and cast acompts. Apud alios loqui didicerunt, non ipsi secum. Non Se●. epist. 108. est loquendum, sed gubernandum. They have learned to speak with others, not with themselves, speaking is not so requisite as government. Nature, to show that nothing is savage in whatsoever she produceth, causeth oftentimes, even in rudest and most unarted nations, productions of spirits to arise, that confront and wrestle with the most artist productions. As concerning my discourse, is not the Gaskonie proverb, drawn from a bagpipe, pretty and acquaint? Bouha prou bouha, mas à remuda lous dits quèm. You may blow long enough, but if once you stir your fingers, you may go seek. We can talk and prate, Cicero saith thus, These are Plato's customs, These are the very words of Aristotle; but what say we ourselves? what do we? what judge we? A Peroquet would say as much. This fashion puts me in mind of that rich Roman, who to his exceeding great charge had been very industrious to find out the most sufficient men in all sciences, which he continually kept about him, that if at any time, occasion should be moved amongst his friends to speak of any matter pertaining to Scholarship, they might supply his place, and be ready to assist him: some with discourse, some with a verse of Homer, othersome with a sentence, eachone according to his skill or profession; who persuaded himself that all such learning was his own, because it was contained in his servants minds. As they do whose sufficiency is placed in their sumptuous libraries. I know some, whom if I ask what he knoweth, he will require a book to demonstrate the same, and durst not dare to tell me that his posteriors are seabious, except he turn over his Lexicon to see what posteriors and scabious is, we take the opinions and knowledge of others into our protection, and that is all: I tell you they must be enfeoffed in us, and made our own. We may very well be compared unto him, who having need of fire, should go fetch some at his neighbour's chimney, where finding a good fire, should there stay to warm himself, forgetting to carry some home, what avails it us to have our bellies full of meat, if it be not digested? if it be not transchanged in us? except it nourish, augment, and strengthen us? May we imagine that Lucullus, whom learning made and framed so great a Captain without experience, would have taken it after our manner? We rely so much upon other men's arms, that we disannul our own strength. Will I arm myself against the fear of death? it is at Senecaes' cost: will I draw comfort either for myself, or any other? I borrow the same of Cicero. I would have taken-it in myself, had I been exercised unto it, I love not this relative and begd-for sufficiency. Suppose we may be learned by other men's learning. Sure I am, we can never be wise, but by our own wisdom. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Proverb ●amb. That wise man I cannot abide, That for himself cannot provide, Ex quo Ennius: Nequidquam sapere sapientem, qui ipsi sibi prodesse non quiret. Whereupon Ennius. saith Ennius. That wise man is vainly wise, who could not profit himself. — si cupidus, si juvenal Sat. 8. 14. Vanus, & Euganeâ quantumvis vilior agnâ. If covetous, if vain (not wise) Then any lamb more base, more nice. Non enim paranda nobis solùm, sed fruenda sapientia est. For, we must not only purchase wisdom, Cic. Finib. lib. 1. p. but enjoy and employ the same. Dionysius scoffeth at those grammarians, who ploddingly labour to know the miseries of Ulysses, and are ignorant of their own; mocketh those musicans, that so attentively tune their instruments, and never accord their manners; derideth those Orators, that study to speak of justice, and never put it in execution. Except our mind be the better, unless our judgement be the sounder, I had rather my scholar had employed his time in playingat Tennis; I am sure his body would be the nimbler. See but one of these our university men or bookish scholars return from school, after he hath there spent ten or twelve years under a Pedants charge: who is so unapt for any matter? who so unfit for any company? who so to seek if he come into the world? all the advantage you discover in him, is, that his Latin and Greek, have made him more sottish, more stupid, and more presumptuous, then before he went from home. Whereas he should return with a mindfull-fraught, he returns with a wind-puft conceit: in stead of plum-feeding the same, he hath only sponged it up with vanity. These Masters, as Plato speaketh of Sophisters (their cousin germans) of all men, are those, that promise to be most profitable unto men, and alone, amongst all, that not only amend not what is committed to their charge, as doth a carpenter or a mason, but impair and destroy the same, and yet they must full dearly be paid. If the law which Protagoras proposed to his disciples, were followed, which was, that either they should payhim according to his word, or swear in the temple, how much they esteemed the profit they had received by his discipline, and accordingly satisfy him for his pains, my Pedagogues would be aground, especially if they would stand to the oath of my experience. My vulgar Perigordin-speech doth very pleasantly term such self-conceited wizards, Letter-ferits, as if they would say letter strucken men, to whom (as the common saying is) letters have given a blow with a mallet. Verily for the most part they seem to be distracted even from common sense. Note but the plain husbandman, or the unwilie shoemaker, and you see them simply and naturally plod on their course, speaking only of what they know, and no further; whereas these letter-puft pedants, because they would feign raise themselves aloft, and with their literal doctrine which floateth up and down the superficies of their brain, arm themselves beyond other men, they uncessantly intricate and entangle themselves: they utter lofty words, and speak golden sentences, but so that another man doth place, fit, and apply them. They are acquainted with Galen, but know not the disease. They will stuff your head with laws, when God wot they have not yet conceived the ground of the case. They know the theoric of all things, but you must seek who shall put it in practice. I have seen a friend of mine, in mine own house, who by way of sport talking with one of these pedantical gulls, counterfeited a kind of fustian tongue, and spoke a certain gibberish, without rhyme or reason, sans head or foot, a hodgepodge of divers things, but that he did often interlace it with inke-pot terms, incident to their disputations, to ammuse the bookish sot for a whole day long with debating and contending; ever thinking he answered the Objections made unto him; yet was he a man of letters, and reputation, a graduate, and wore a goodly formal long gown. Vos o patritius sanguis quos vivere par est Pers. sat. 1. 61. Occipiticaeco, posticae occurrite sannae. You noble bloods, who with a noddle blind, Should live, meet with the mock that's made behind. Whosover shall narrowly look into this kind of people, which far and wide hath spread itself, he shall find (as I have done,) that for the most part, they neither understand themselves, nor others, and that their memory is many times sufficiently full fraught, but their judgement ever hollow & empty: except their natural inclination have of itself otherwise fashioned them. As I have seen Adrianus Turnebus, who having never professed any thing but study and letters, wherein he was, in mine opinion, the worthiest man that lived these thousand years, and who notwithstanding had no Pedantical thing about him, but the wearing of his gown, and some external fashions, that could not well be reduced, and incivilized to the courtiers cut; things of no consequence. And I naturally hate our people, that will more hardly endure a long robe uncuriously worn, than a cross skittish mind: & that observe what leg, or reverence he makes, note his garb or demeanour, view his boots, or his hat, and mark what manner of man he is. For his inward parts, I deem him to have been one of the most unspotted and truly honest minds that ever was. I have sundry times of purpose urged him to speak of matters forth est from his study, wherein he was so clear-sighted, and could with so quick an apprehension conceive, and with so sound a judgement distinguish them, that he seemed never to have professed or studied other faculty than war, and matters of state. Such spirits, such natures may be termed worthy, goodly, and solid. — queis arte benigna juven sat. 14. 34. Et meliore luto fi●xit praecordia Titan, Whose bowels heavens-bright-Sunne composed Of better ● old, art well-disposed, That maintain themselves against any bad institution. Now it sufficeth not that our institution mar us not, it must change us to the better. There are some of our Parliaments and Courts, who when they are to admit of any officers, do only examine them of their learning; others, that by presenting them the judgement of some law cases, endeavour to sound their understanding. Me thinks the latter keep the better style: And albeit these two parts are necessary, and both aught to concur in one, yet truly should that of learning be less prized than judgement, this may well be without the other, and not the other without this. For as the Greek verse saith. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Com●● Gr●●. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Learning nought worth doth lie, Be not discretion by. Whereto serveth learning, if understanding be not joined to it? Oh would to God, that for the good of our justice, the societies of Lawyers were as well stored with judgement, discretion, and conscience, as they are with learning and wit. Non vitae, sed scholae discimus. We ●●n epist. 106. f. learn not for our life, but for the school. It is not enough to join learning and knowledge to the mind, it should be incorporated unto it: it must not be sprinkled, but died with it; and if it change not and better her estate (which is imperfect) it were much better to leave it. It is a dangerous Sword, and which hindereth and offendeth her master, if it be in a weak hand, and which hath not the skill to manage the same: Vt fuerit melius non didicisse: So as it were better that we had not learned. It is peradventure the cause, that neither we, nor divinity require not much learning in women; and that Francis Duke of Britanny, son to john the fifth, when he was spoken unto for a marriage between him and Isabel a daughter of Scotland; and some told him she was but meanly brought up, and without any instruction of learning, answered, he loved her the better for it, and that a woman was wise enough, if she could but make a difference between the shirt and doublet of her husbands. It is also no such wonder (as some say) that our ancestors did never make any great account of Letters, and that even at this day (except it be by chance) they are not often found in our Kings or Princes chiefest counsels and consultations: And if the end to grow rich by them, which nowadays is altogether proposed unto us by the study of Law, of Physic, of Pedantisme, and of Divinity; did not keep them in credit, without doubt you should see them as beggarly and needy, and as much vilified as ever they were. And what hurt I pray you, since they neither teach us to think well, nor do well? Postquam docti prodiderunt, boni desunt. Se●. epist. 95. Since men became learned, good men failed. Each other science is prejudicial unto him, that hath not the science of goodness. But may not the reason I whilom sought for, also proceed thence? That our study in France, having as it were no other aim but profit, but those less whom nature hath produced to more generous offices, then lucrative, giving themselves unto learning, or so briefly (before they have apprehended any liking of them, retired unto a profession that hath no community with books) there are then none left, altogether to engage themselves to study and Books, but the meaner kind of people, and such as are borne to base fortune, and who by learning and letters seek some mean to live, and enrich themselves. The minds of which people being both by natural inclination, by example, and familiar institution, of the basest stamp, do falsely reap the fruit of learning. For it is not in her power to give light unto the mind, that hath none, nor to make a blind man to see. The mystery of it is not to afford him sight, but to direct it for him, to address his goings, always provided he have feet of his own, and good, strait, and capable legs. Knowledge is an excellent drug, but no drug is sufficiently strong to preserve itself without alteration or corruption, according to the fault of the vessel, that contains it. Some man hath a clear sight, that is not right-sighted; and by consequence seeth what good is, and doth not follow it; and seeketh knowledge, but makes no use of it. The chiefest ordinance of Plato in his common wealth is, to give unto his Citizens their charge, according to their nature. Nature can do all, and doth all. The crooked backed, or deformed, are unfit for any exercise of the body, and crooked and misshapen minds unproper for exercises of the mind. The bastard and vulgar sort are unworthy of Philosophy. When we see a man ill shod, if he chance to be a Shoemaker, we say it is no wonder, for commonly none goes worse shod than they. Even so it seems, that experience doth often show us, a Physician less healthy, a Divine less reform, and most commonly a Wiseman less sufficient than an other. Aristo Chius had heretofore reason to say, that Philosophers did much hurt to their auditors, forasmuch as the greatest number of minds are not apt to profit by such instructions, which, if they take not a good, they will follow a bad course: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Aristippi, acerbos ex Zenonis schola Cic. Nat. Deor. li. 3. exire. They proceed licentious out of the School of Aristippus, but bitter out of the School of Zeno. In that excellent institution which Zenophon giveth the Persians, we find, that as other Nations teach their children Letters, so they taught theirs virtue. Plato said the eldest borne son, in their royal succession, was thus taught. As soon as he was borne, he was delivered, not to women, but to such eunuchs, as by reason of their virtue were in chiefest authority about the King. Their special charge was first to shapen his limbs and body, goodly, and healthy; and at seven years of age, they instructed and enured him to sit on horseback, and to ride a hunting: when he came to the age of fourteen, they delivered him into the hands of four men, that is to say, the wisest, the justest, the most temperate, and the most valiant of all the nation. The first taught him religion; the second, to be ever upright and true; the third, to become Master of his own desires; and the fourth, to fear nothing. It is a thing worthy great consideration, that in that excellent, and as I may term it, matchless policy of Lycurgus, and in truth, by reason of her perfection, monstrous, yet notwithstanding, so careful for the education of children, as of her principal charge, and even in the Muse's bosom and restingplace, there is so little mention made of learning: as if that generous youth disdaining all other yokes but of virtue, ought only be furnished, in lieu of tutors of learning, with masters of valour, of justice, of wisdom, and of temperance. An example which Plato hath imitated in his Laws. The manner of their discipline was, to propound questions unto them, teaching the judgement of men and of their actions: and if by way of reason or discourse, they condemned or praised, either this man, or that deed, they must be told the truth and best: by which means at once they sharpened their wits, and learned the right. Af●●ages in Zenophon calleth Cyrus to an account of his last lesson: It is (saith he) that a great lad in our School, having a little coat, gave it to one of his fellows, that was of lesser stature than himself, and took his coat from him, which was too big for him: our Master having made me judge of that difference, I judged that things must be left in the state they were in, and that both seemed to be better fitted as they were; whereupon he showed me, I had done ill; because I had not only considered the comeliness, where I should chiefly have respected justice, which required, that none should be forced in any thing which properly belonged to him, and said, he was whi●t for it, as we are in our countrie-townes, when we have forgotten the first preterperfect tense or A●rist●e of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. My Regent might long enough make me a prolix and cunning Oration in genere demonstrativo, in the oratory kind of praise or dispraise, before ever he should persuade me his School is worth that. They have gone about to make the way shorter: and since Sciences (even when they are right taken) can teach us nothing but wisdom, honesty, integrity, and resolution; they have at first sight, attempted to put their children to the proper of effects, and instruct them, not by hearsay, but by assay of action, lively modeling and framing them, not only by precepts and words, but principally by examples and works, that it might not be a Science in their mind, but rather his complexion and habitude; not a purchase, but a natural inheritance. To this purpose when Agesilaus was demanded, what his opinion was, children should learn: answered, What they should do being men. It is no marvel, if such an institution have produced so admirable effects. Some say, that in other Cities of Greece they went to seek for Rhetoricians, for Painters, and for Musicians▪ whereas in L●●●d●m●●, they fought for Lawgivers, for Magistrates, and Generals of a 〈…〉 s: In A44Span●●s men learned to say well, but here, to do well: there to resolve a sophistical argument, and to confound the imposture and amphibology of words, captiously interlaced together; here to shake off the allurements of voluptuousness, and with an undaunted courage to contemn the threats of fortune, and reject the menaces of death: those busied and laboured themselves about idle words, these after martial things: there the tongue was ever in continual exercise of speaking, here the mind in an uncessant practice of well-doing. And therefore was it not strange, if Antipater requiring fifty of their children for hostages, they answered clean contrary to that we would do, that they would rather deliver him twice so many men; so much did they value and esteem the loss of their country's education. When Agesilau● inv●t●●h Xenophon to send his children to Sparta, there to be brought up; it is not, because they should learn Rhetoric, or Logic, but, as himself saith, to the end they may learn the worthiest and best science that may be ●●o wit, the knowledge how to obey, and the skill how to command. It is a sport to see Socrates, after his blunt manner, to mock Hippias, who reporteth unto him, what great sums of money he had gained, especially in certain little Cities, and small towns of Sicily, by keeping school, and teaching letters, and that at Sparta he could not get a shilling. That they were but Idiots and foolish people, who can neither measure nor esteem; nor make no account of Grammar, or of Rhythms; and who only ammuse themselves to know the succession of Kings, the establishing and declination of estates, and such like trash of flim-flam tales. Which done, Socrates forcing him particularly to allow the excellency of their form of public government, the happiness and virtue of their private life, remits unto him to guess the conclusion of the unprofitableness of his arts. Examples teach us both in this martial policy, and in all such like, that the study of sciences doth more weaken and esteminate men's minds, then corroborate and adapt them to war. The mightiest, yea the best settled estate, that is now in the world, is that of the Turks, a nation equally instructed to the esteem of arms, and disesteem of letters. I find Rome to have been most valiant, when it was least learned. The most warlike nations of our days, are the rudest and most ignorant. The Scythians, the Parthians, and Tamburlaine, serve to verify my saying. When the Goths overran and ravaged Greece; that which saved all their Libraries from the fire, was, that one among them, scattered this opinion, that such trash of books and papers must be left untouched and whole for their enemies, as the only mean, and proper instrument to divert them from all military exercises, and ammuse them to idle, secure, and sedentary occupations. When our King Charles the eight, in a manner without vnsheathing his sword, saw himself absolute Lord of the whole kingdom of Naples, and of a great part of Thuscanie, the Princes and Lords of his train, ascribed this sudden, and unhoped for victory, and facility of so noble and prodigious a conquest, only to this, that most of the Princes and nobility of Italy ammused themselves rather to become ingenious and wise by learning, then vigorous and warriors by military exercises. The five and twentieth Chapter. Of the institution and education of Children; to the Lady Diana of Foix, Countess of Gurson. I Never knew father, how crooked and deformed soever his son were, that would either altogether cast him off, or not acknowledge him for his own: and yet (unless he be merely besotted or blinded in his affection) it may not be said, but he plainly perceiveth his defects, and hath a feeling of his imperfections. But so it is, he is his own. So is it in myself. I see better than any man else, that what I have set down, is nought but the fond imaginations of him, who in his youth hath tasted nothing but the paring, and seen but the superficies of true learning: whereof he hath retained but a general and shapeless form: a smack of every thing in general, but nothing to the purpose in particular: After the French manner. To be short, I know there is an art of Physic; a course of laws; four parts of the Mathematics; and I am not altogether ignorant, what they tend unto. And perhaps I also know the scope and drift of Sciences in general, to be for the service of our life. But to wade further, or that ever I tired myself with plodding upon Aristotle (the Monarch of our modern doctrine) or obstinately continued in the search of any one science: I confess I never did it. Nor is there any one art, whereof I am able so much as to draw the first lineaments. And there is no scholar (be he of the lowest form) that may not repute himself wiser than I, who am not able to appose him in his first lesson: and if I be forced to it, I am constrained very impertinently to draw in matter from some general discourse, whereby I examine, and give a guess at his natural judgement: a lesson as much unknown to them, as theirs is 〈…〉. I ●●ve not dealt or had commerce with any excellent book, except Plutarch or Sene●●, from whom (as the Dan●ïdes) I draw my water, uncessantly filling, and as fast emptying: some thing whereof I fasten to this paper, but to myself nothing at all. And touching books: History is my chief studi●, Poesy my only delight, to which I am particularly affected: ●or as Cl 〈…〉 s said, that as the voice being forcibly penned in the narrow g 〈…〉 t of a trumpet, at last issueth forth more strong and shriller, some seems, that a sentence cunningly and closely couched in measure-keeping Posy, darts itself forth more furiously, and ●ou●ds me even to the quick. And concerning the natural faculties that are in me, (whereof behold here an essay) I perceive them to faint under their own burden; my conceits, and my judgement march but uncertain, and as it were groping, straggering, and stumbling at every rush: And when I have gone as far as I can, I have no whit pleased myself: for the further I sail, the more land I descry, and that so dimmed with fogs, and overcast with clouds, that my sight is so weakened, I cannot distinguish the same. And then undertaking to speak indifferently of all that presents itself unto my fantasy, and having nothing but mine own natural means to employ therein, if it be my hap (as commonly it is) among good Authors, to light upon those very places which I have undertaken to treat off, as even now I did in Plutarch, reading his discourse of the power of imagination, wherein in regard of those wise men, I acknowledge myself so weak, and so poor, so dull and grose-headed, as I am forced both to pity and disdain myself, yet am I pleased with this, that my opinions have often the grace to jump with theirs, and that I follow them a loof off, and thereby possess at least, that which all other men have not; which is, that I know the utmost difference between them and myself: all which notwithstanding I suffer my inventions to run abroad, as weak and faint, as I have produced them, without bungling and botching the faults, which this comparison hath discovered to me in them. A man had need have a strong back, to undertake to march foot to foot with these kind of men. The indiscreet writers of our age, amidst their trivial compositions, intermingle and wrest in whole sentences taken from ancient Authors, supposing by such filching-theft to purchase honour and reputation to themselves, do clean contrary. For, this infinite variety and dissemblance of lustres, makes a face, so wan, so ill-favoured, and so ugly, in respect of theirs, that they lose much more than gain thereby. These were two contrary humours: The Philosopher Chrysippus was wont to foist-in amongst his books, not only whole sentences, and other long long discourses, but whole books of other Authors, as in one, he brought in Euripides his Medea. And Appollodorus was wont to say of him, that if one should draw from out his books, what he had stolen from others, his paper would remain blank. Where as Epicurus clean contrary to him in three hundred volumes, he left behind him, had not made use of one allegation. It was my fortune not long since to light upon such a place: I had languishingly traced after some French words, so naked and shallow, and so void either of sense or matter, that at last I found them to be nought but mere French words; and after a tedious and wearisome travel, I chanced to stumble upon an high, rich, and even to the clouds-raised piece, the descent whereof had it been somewhat more pleasant or easy, or the ascent reaching a little further, it had been excusable, and to be borne-withall; but it was such a steepy downfall, and by mere strength hewn out of the main rock, that by reading of the first six words, me thought I was carried into another world: whereby I perceive the bottom whence I came to be so low and deep, as I durst never more adventure to go through it; for, if I did stuff any one of my discourses with those rich spoils, it would manifestly cause the sottishness of others to appear. To reprove mine own faults in others, seems to me no more unsufferable, then to reprehend (as I do often) those of others in myself. They ought to be accused everywhere, and have all places of Sanctuary taken from them: yet do I know how overboldly, at all times I adventure to equal myself unto my filchings, and to march hand in hand with them; not without a fond-hardie hope, that I may perhaps be able to blear the eyes of the judges from discerning them. But it is as much for the benefit of my application, as for the good of mine invention and force. And I do not furiously front, and body to body wrestle with those old champions: it is but by sleights, advantages, and false-offers I seek to come within them, and if I can, to give them a fall. I do not rashly take them about the neck, I do but touch them, nor do I go so far as by my bargain I would seem to do; could I but keep even with them, I should then be an honest man; for I seek not to venture on them, but where they are strongest. To do as I have seen some, that is, to shroud themselves under others arms, not daring so much as to show their fingers ends unarmed, and to botch up all their works (as it is an easy matter in a common subject, namely for the wiser sort) with ancient inventions, here and there hudled-up together. And in those who endeavoured to hide what they have filched from others, and make it their own, it is first a manifest note of injustice, than a plain argument of cowardliness; who having nothing of any worth in themselves to make show of, will yet under the countenance of others sufficiency go about to make a fair offer: Moreover (oh great foolishness) to seek by such cozening tricks to forestall the ignorant approbation of the common sort, nothing fearing to discover their ignorance to men of understanding (whose praise only is of value) who will soon trace out such borrowed ware. As for me, there is nothing I will do less. I never spoke of others, but that I may the more speak of myself. This concerneth not those mingle-mangles of many kinds of stuff, or as the Grecians call them Rhapsodies, that for such are published, of which kind I have (since I came to years of discretion) seen diverse most ingenious and witty; amongst others, one under the name of Capilupus; besides many of the ancient stamp. These are wits of such excellence, as both here and elsewhere they will soon be perceived, as our late famous writer Lipsius, in his learned and laborious work of the Polit●kes: yet whatsoever come of it, for so much as they are but follies, my intent is not to smother them, no more than a bald and hoary picture of mine, where a Painter hath drawn not a perfect visage, but mine own. For, howsoever, these are but my humours and opinions, and I deliver them but to show what my conceit is, and not what ought to be believed. Wherein I aim at nothing but to display myself, who peradventure (if a new prenticeship change me) shall be an other to morrow. I have no authority to purchase belief, neither do I de●ire it; knowing well that I am not sufficiently taught to instruct others. Some having read my precedent Chapter, told me not long since in mine own house, I should somewhat more have extended myself in the discourse concerning the institution of children. Now (Madam) if there were any sufficiency in me, touching that subject, I could not better employ the same, then to bestow it as a present upon that little lad, which ere long threateneth to make a happy issue from out your honourable womb: for (Madam) you are too generous to begin with other than a man child. And having had so great a part in the conduct of your successful marriage, I may challenge some right and interest in the greatness and prosperity of all that shall proceed from it: moreover, the ancient and rightful possession, which you from time to time have ever had, and still have over my service, urgeth me with more than ordinary respects, to wish all honour, welfare and advantage to whatsoever may in any sort concern you and yours. And truly, my meaning is, but to show, that the greatest difficulty, and importing all human knowledge, seemeth to be in this point, where the nurture and institution of young children is in question. For, as in matters of husbandry the labour that must be used before sowing, setting, and planting, yea in planting itself, is most certain and easy. But when that which was sown, set, and planted, cometh to take life; before it come to ripeness, much ado, and great variety of proceeding belongeth to it. So in men, it is no great matter to get them, but being borne, what continual cares, what diligent attendance, what doubts and fears, do daily wait on their parents and tutors, before they can be nurtured and brought to any good? The foreshew of their inclination whilst they are young is so uncertain, their humours so variable, their promises so changing, their hopes so false, and their proceedings so doubtful, that it is very hard, (yea for the wisest) to ground any certain judgement, or assured success upon them. Behold Cymon, view Th●●●istocles, and a thousand others, how they have differed, and fallen to better from themselves, and deceive the expectation of such as knew them. The young whelps both of Dogs and Bears, at first sight show their natural disposition, but men headlong embracing this custom or fashion, following that humour or opinion, admitting this or that passion, allowing of that of this law, are easily changed, and soon disguised; yet is it hard to force the natural propension or readiness of the mind, whereby it followeth, that for want of heedy foresight in those that could not guide their course well, they often employ much time in vain, to address young children in those matters, whereunto they are not naturally addicted. All which difficulties notwithstanding, mine opinion is, to bring them up in the best and proclaim'st studies, and that a man should slightly passover those fond presages, and deceiving prognostikes, which we over-precisely gather in their infancy. And (without offence be it said) me thinks, that Plato in his commonwealth alloweth them too▪ too much authority. Madame, Learning joined with true knowledge is an especial and graceful ornament, and an implement of wonderful use and consequence, namely in persons raised to that degree of fortune, wherein you are. And in good truth, learning hath not her own true form, nor can she make show of her beauteous lineaments, if she fall into the hands of base and vile persons. [For, as famous Torquato Tasso saith; Philosomphie being a rich and noble Queen, and knowing her own worth, graciously smileth upon, and lovingly embraceth Princes and noble men, if they become suitors to her, admitting them as her minions, and gently affording them all the favours she can; whereas upon the contrary, if she be wooed, and sued unto by clowns, mechanical fellows, and such base kind of people, she holds herself disparaged and disgraced, as holding no proportion with them. And therefore see we by experience, that if a true Gentleman, or nobleman follow her with any attention, and wooed her with importunity, he shall learn and know more of her, and prove a better scholar in one year, than an ungentle, or base fellow shall in seven, though he pursue her never so attentively.] She is much more ready and fierce to lend her furtherance and direction in the conduct of a war, to attempt honourable actions, to command a people, to treat a peace with a prince of foreign nation, than she is to form an argument in Logic, to devise a Syllogisine, to canvas a case at the bar, or to prescribe a receipt of pills. So (noble Lady) forsomuch as I cannot persuade myself, that you will either forget or neglect this point, concerning the institution of yours, especially having tasted the sweetness thereof, and being descended of so noble and learned a race. For we yet possess the learned compositions of the ancient and noble Earls of Foix, from out whose heroic loins your husband and you take your offspring. And Francis Lord of Candale your worthy uncle, doth daily bring forth such fruits thereof, as the knowledge of the matchless quality of your house shall hereafter extend itself to many ages; I will therefore make you acquainted with one conceit of mine, which contrary to the common use I hold, and that is all I am able to afford you, concerning that matter. The charge of the Tutor, which you shall appoint your son, in the choice of whom consisteth the whole substance of his education and bringing-up; on which are many branches depending, which (forasmuch as I can add nothing of any moment to it) I will not touch at all. And for that point, wherein I presume to advise him, he may so far forth give credit unto it, as he shall see just cause. To a gentleman borne of noble parentage, and heir of a house, that aimeth at true learning, and in it would be disciplined, not so much for gain or commodity to himself (because so abject an end is far unworthy the grace and favour of the Muses, and beside, hath a regard or dependency of others) nor for external show and ornament, but to adorn and enrich his inward mind, desiring rather to shape and institute an able and sufficient man, than a bare learned man. My desire is therefore, that the parents or overseers of such a gentleman be very circumspect, and careful in choosing his director, whom I would rather commend for having a well composed and temperate brain, than a full stuffed head, yet both will do well. And I would rather prefer wisdom, judgement, civil customs, and modest behaviour, then bare and mere literal learning; and that in his charge he hold a new course. Some never cease brawling in their scholars ears (as if they were still pouring in a tonell) to follow their book, yet is their charge nothing else, but to repeat, what hath been told them before. I would have a tutor to correct this part, and that at first entrance, according to the capacity of the wit he hath in hand, he should begin to make show of it, making him to have a smack of all things, and how to choose and distinguish them, without help of others, sometimes opening him the way, other times leaving him to open-it by himself. I would not have him to invent and speak alone, but suffer his disciple to speak when his turn cometh. Socrates, and after him Arc●silaus, made their scholars to speak first, and then would speak them-selves. Obest plerumque iis qui discere volunt, auctoritas eorum, qui docent. Most ●●c. D● Nat. lib. 1. commonly the authority of them that teach, hinders them that would learn●. It is therefore meet, that he make him first trot-on before him, whereby he may the better judge of his pace, and so guess how long he will hold out, that accordingly he may fit his strength: for want of which proportion, we often marre-all. And to know how to make a good choice, and how far forth one may proceed (still keeping a due measure) is one of the hardest labours I know. It is a sign of a noble, and effect of an undaunted spirit, to know how to second, and how far forth he shall condescend to his childish proceedings, and how to guide them. As for myself, I can better and with more strength walk up, then down a ●ill. Those which according to our common fashion, undertake with one selfsame lesson, and like manner of education, to direct many spirits of divers forms and different humours, it is no marvel if among a multitude of children, they scarce meet with two or three, that reap any good fruit by their discipline, or that come to any perfection. I would not only have him to demand an account of the words contained in his lesson, but of the sense and substance thereof, and judge of the profit he hath made ofit, not by the testimony of his memory, but by the witness of his life. That what he lately learned, he cause him to set forth and portray the same into sundry shapes, and then to accommodate-it to as many different and several subjects; whereby he shall perceive, whether he have yet apprehended the same, and therein enfeoffed himself, at due times taking his instruction from the institution given by Plato. It is a sign of crudity and indigestion for a man to yield up his meat, even as he swallowed the same: the stomach hath not wrought his full operation, unless it have changed form, and altered fashion of that which was given him to boil and concoct. [We see men gape after no reputation but learning, and when they say, such a one is a learned man, they think they have said enough;] Our mind doth move at others pleasure, as tied and forced to serve the fantasies of others, being brought under by authority, and forced to stoop to the lure of their bare lesson; we have been so subjected to harp upon one string; that we have no way left-us to descant upon voluntary: our vigour and liberty is clean extinct. Nunquam tutelae suae fiunt. They never come to their own tuition. It was my hap to be familiarly acquainted with an honest man at Pisa, but such an Aristotelian, as he held this infallible position; that a conformity to Aristotle's doctrine was the true touchstone and squire of all solid imaginations, and perfect verity; for, whatsoever had no coherency withit, was but fond chimeras, and idle humours; in as much as he had knowne-all, seen-all, and said-all. This proposition of his, being somewhat over-amply and injuriously interpreted by some, made him a long time after to be troubled in the inquisition of Rome, I would have him make his scholar narrowly to sift all things with discretion, and harbour nothing in his head by mere authority, or upon trust. Aristotle's principles shall be no more axioms unto him, than the stoics or Epicurians. Let this diversity of judgements be proposed unto him, if he can, he shall be able to distinguish the truth from falsehood, if not, he will remain doubtful. Che non men i saper dubbiar m'aggrada. Dant inferno, Can●. 12. 48. No less it pleaseth me, To doubt, then wise to be. For if by his own discourse he embrace the opinions of Xenophon, or of Plato, they shall be no longer theirs, but his. He that merely followeth another, traceth nothing, and seeketh nothing: Non sumus sub Rege, sibi quisque se vindicet. We are not under a King's command, S●●. epist. 33. every one may challenge himself, for let him at least know that he knoweth. It is requisite he indevor as much to feed himself with their conceits, as labour to learn their precepts; which, so he know how to apply, let him hardly forget, where, or whence he had them. Truth and reason are common to all, and are no more proper unto him that spoke them heretofore, than unto him that shall speak them hereafter. And it is no more according to Plato's opinion, than to mine, since both he and I understand and see alike. The Be●s do here and there suck this, and cull that flower, but afterward they produce the honey, which is peculiarly their own, then is it no more Thyme or Majoram. So of pieces borrowed of others, he may lawfully alter, transform, and confound them, to shape out of them a perfect piece of work, altogether his own; always provided, his judgement, his travel, study, and institution tend to nothing, but to frame the same perfect. Let him hardly conceal, where, or whence he hath had any help, and make no show of any thing, but of that which he hath made himself. Pirates, filchers, and borrowers, make a show of their purchases and buildings, but not of that which they have taken from others: you see not the secret fees o● bribe's Lawyers take of their Clients, but you shall manifestly discover the alliances they make, the honours they get for their children, and the goodly houses they build. No man makes open show of his receit●, but every one of his gettings. The good that comes of study (or at least should come) is to prove better, wiser, and honester. It is the understanding power (said Epicharmus) that seeth and heareth, it is it, that profiteth all, and disposeth all, that moveth, swayeth, and ruleth all: all things else are but blind, senseless, and without spirit. And truly in barring him of liberty to do any thing of himself, we make him thereby more servile and more coward. Who would ever inquire of his scholar what he thinketh of Rhetoric, of Grammar, of this, or of that sentence of Cicero? Which things thoroughly feathered (as if they were oracles) are let fly into our memory; in which both letters and syllables are substantial parts of the subject. To know by rote is no perfect knowledge, but to keep what one hath committed to his memories charge, is commendable: what a man directly knoweth, that will he dispose-of, without turning still to his book, or looking to his pattern. A mere bookish sufficiency is unpleasant. All I expect of it, is an imbellishing of my actions, and not a foundation of them, according to Plato's mind, who saith, constancy, faith, and sincerity, are true Philosophy; as for other Sciences, and tending elsewhere, they are but garish paintings. I would feign have Paluel or P●mpey, those two excellent dancers of our time, with all their nimbleness, teach any man to do their lofty tricks, and high capers, only with seeing them done, and without stirring out of his place, as some Pedantical fellows would instruct our minds without moving or putting it in practice. And glad would I be to find-one, that would teach us how to manage a horse, to toss a pike, to shoote-off a piece, to play upon the l●te, or to warble with the voice, without any exercise, as these kind of men would teach us to judge, and how to speak well, without any exercise of speaking or judging. In which kind of life, or as I may term it, Prenticeship, what action or object soever presents itself unto our eyes, may serveus instead of a sufficient book. A pretty prank of a boy, a knavish trick of a page, a foolish part of a lackey, an idle tale or any discourse-else, spoken either in jest or earnest, at the table or in company, are even as new subjects forus to worke-upon: for furtherance whereof, commerce or common society among men, visiting of fortaine countries, and observing of strange fashions, are very necessary, not only to be able (after the manner of our young gallants of France) to report how many paces the Church of S●●ta Rotonda is in length or breadth, or what rich garments the courtesan Signora Livia weaveth, and the worth of her hosen; or as some do, nicely to dispute how much longer or broader the face of Nero is, which they have seen in some old ruins of Italy, then that which is made for him in other old monuments elsewhere. But they should principally observe, and be able to make certain relation of the humours and fashions of those countries they have seen, that they may the better know, how to correct and prepare their wits by those of others. I would therefore have him begin even from his infancy to travel abroad; and first, that at one shoot he may hit two marks, he should see neighbour-countries, namely where languages are most different from ours; for, unless a man's tongue be fashioned unto them in his youth, he shall never attain to the true pronunciation of them, if he once grow in years. Moreover, we see it received as a common opinion of the wiser sort, that it agreeth not with reason, that a child be always nuzzled, cockered, dandled, and brought up in his parent's lap or sight; forsomuch as their natural kindness, or as I may call it tender fondness causeth often, even the wisest, to prove so idle, so overnice, and so baseminded. For parents are not capable, neither can they find in their hearts to see them checked, corrected, or chastised, nor endure to see them brought up so meanly, and so far from daintiness, and many times so dangerously, as they must needs be. And it would grieve them to see their children come home from those exercises, that a Gentleman must necessarily acquaint himself with, sometimes all wet and bemyred, other times sweaty, and full of dust, and to drink being either extreme hot, or exceeding cold; and it would trouble them to see him ride a rough-untamed horse, or with his weapon furiously encounter a skilful Fencer, or to handle and shoote-off a musket; against which there is no remedy, if he will make him prove a sufficient, complete, or honest man: he must not be spared in his youth; and it will come to pass, that he shall many times have occasion and be forced to shock the rules of Physic. Vitamque sub dio & trepidis agate H●r. li. 1. od. 2. 4. In rebus.— Lead he his life in open air, And in affairs full of despair. It is not sufficient to make his mind strong, his muscles must also be strengthened: the mind is overborne if it be not seconded: and it is too much for hi● alone to discharge two offices. I have a feeling how mine panteth, being joined to so tender and sensible a body, and that lieth so heavy upon it. And in my lecture, I often perceive how my Authors in their writings sometimes commend examples for magnanimity and force, that rather proceed from a thick skin and hardness of the bones. I have known men, women and children borne of so hard a constitution, that a blow with a cudgel would less hurt them, than a fillip would do me, and so dull and blockish, that they will neither stir tongue nor kickshaws, beat them never so much. When wrestlers go about to counterfeit the Philosopher's patience, they rather show the vigour of their sinews, then of their hart. For the custom to bear travel, is to tolerate grief: Labour callum obducit dolori. Labour worketh a Cic. Tus. qu li. 2 hardness upon sorrow. He must be endured to suffer the pain and hardness of exercises, that so he may be induced to endure the pain of the colic, of cautery, of false, of sprains, and other diseases incident to man's body: yea, if need require, patiently to bear imprisonment, and other tortures, by which sufferance he shall come to be had in more esteem and account: for according to time and place, the good as well as the bad man may happily fall into them; we have seen it by experience. Whosoever striveth against the laws, threats good men with mischief and extortion. Moreover, the authority of the Tutor (who should be sovereign over him) is by the cockering and presence of the parents, hindered and interrupted: besides the awe and respect, which the household bears him, and the knowledge of the means, possibilities, and greatness of his house, are in my judgement, no small lets in a young Gentleman. In this school of commerce, and society among men, I have often noted this vice, that in am of taking acquaintance of others, we only indevor to make ourselves known to them: and we are more ready to utter such merchandise as we have, then to engross & purchase new commodities. Silence and modesty are qualities very convenient to civil conversation. It is also necessary, that a young man be rather taught to be discrectly-sparing, and close-handed, then prodigally-wastfull and lavish in his expenses, and moderate in husbanding his wealth when he shall come to possess it. And not to take pepper in the nose for every foolish tale that shall be spoken in his presence, because it is an uncivil importunity, to contradict, whatsoever is not agreeing to our humour: let him be pleased to correct himself. And lethim not seem to blame that in others, which he refuseth to do himself, nor go about to withstand common fashions. Licet sapere sine pompa, sine invidia. A man may be Sen. ipist. 103 f. wise without ostentation, without envy. Let him avoid those imperious images of the world, those uncivil behaviours, and childish ambition, wherewith God-wot, tootoo many are possessed: that is, to make a fair show of that, which is not in him: endeavouring to be reputed other then indeed he is; and as if reprehension and new devises were hard to come by, he would by that mean acquire unto himself, the name of some peculiar virtue. As it pertaineth but to great Poets to use the liberty of arts; so isit tolerable but in noble minds, and great spirits to have a pre-eminence above ordinary fashions. Si quid Socrates & Aristippus Cic. Off. lib 1. contra morem & consuetudinem fecerunt, idem sibi ne arbitretur licere: Magis enim illi & divinis bonis hanc licentiam assequebantur. If Socrates and Aristippus have done aught against custom or good manner, let not a man think he may do the same: for they obtained this licence by their great and excellent good parts: He shall be taught, not to enter rashly into discourse or contesting, but when he shall encounter with a Champion, worthy his strength; And then would I not have him employ all the tricks that may fit his turn, but only such as may stand him in most stead. That he be taught to be curious in making choice of his reasons, loving pertinency, and by consequence brevity. That above all, he be instructed to yield, yea to quit his weapons unto truth, as soon as he shall discern the same, whether it proceed from his adversary, or upon better advice from himself; for, he shall not be preferred to any place of eminency above others, for repeating of a prescript pa●t; and he is not engaged to defend any cause, further than he may approve it; nor shall he be of that trade, where the liberty for a man to repent and re-advise himself is sold for ready money. Neque, ut omnia, Cic. Acad. q●. lib. 4. que praescripta & imperata sint, defendat, necessitate ulla cogitur. Nor is he enforced by any necessity to defend and make good all that is prescribed and commanded him. If his tutor agree with my humour, he shall frame his affection, to be a most loyal and true subject to his Prince, and a most affectionate and courageous Gentleman, in all that may concern the honour of his Sovereign, or the good of his country. And endeavour to suppress in him all manner of affection to undertake any action, otherwise then for a public good and duty. Besides many inconveniences, which greatly prejudice our liberty, by reason of these particular bonds; the judgement of a man that is waged and bought, either it is less free and honest, or else it is blemished with oversight and ingratitude. A mere and precise Courtier, can neither have law nor will to speak or think, otherwise then favourably of his Master, who among so many thousands of his subjects, hath made choice of him alone, to institute and bring himup with his own hand. These favours, with the commodities that follow minion Courttiers, corrupt (not without some colour of reason) his liberty, and dazzle his judgement. It is therefore commonly seen, that the Courtiers-language differs from other men's, in the same state, and to be of no great credit in sunch matters. Let therefore his conscience and virtue shine in his speech, and reason be his chief direction. Let him be taught to confess such faults as he shall discover in his own discourses, albeit none other perceive them but himself; for it is an evident show of judgement, and effect of sincerity, which are the chiefest qualities he aimeth at. That wilfully to strive, and obstinately to contest in words, are common qualities, most apparent in basest minds: That to re-advise and correct himself, and when one is most earnest, to leave an ill opinion; are rare, noble, and philosophical conditions. Being in company, he shall be put in mind, to cast his eyes round about, and everywhere: For I note, that the chief places are usually seized upon by the most unworthy, and less capable; and that height of fortune is seldom joined with sufficiency. I have seen, that whilst they at the upper end of a board were busy entertaining themselves, with talking of the beauty of the hangings about a chamber, or of the taste of some good cup of wine, many good discourses at the lower end, have utterly been lost. He shall weigh the carriage of every man in his calling, a Herdsman, a Mason, a Stranger, or a traveller; all must be employed; every one according to his worth; for all helps to makeup household; yea, the folly and the simplicity of others, shall be as instructions to him. By controlling the graces and manners of others, he shall acquire unto himself envy of the good, and contempt of the bad. Let him hardly be possessed with an honest curiosity to search out the nature and causes of all things: let him survey what soever is rare and singular about him; a building, a fountain, a man, a place where any battle hath been fought, or the passages of Caesar or Charlemaint. Quae tellus sit l●●ta gelu, quae putris ab aestu, Prop▪ ●i. 4 ●●. 3. 39 Ventus in Italiam quis bene vela ferat. What land is parched with heat, what clogged with frost, What wind drives kindly to th' Italian coast. He shall endeavour to be familiarly acquainted with the customs, with the means, with the state, with the dependences and alliances of all Princes; they are things soon and pleasant to be learned, and most profitable to be known. In this acquaintance of men, my meaning is, that he chiefly comprehend them, that live but by the memory of books. He shall, by the help of Histories, inform himself of the worthiest minds that were in the best ages. It is a frivolous study, if a man list, but of unvaluable worth, to such as can make use of it. And as Plato saith, the only study the Lacedæmonians res●●ved for themselves. What profit shall he not reap, touching this point, reading the lives of our Plutarch? Always conditioned, the master bethink himself whereto his charge tendeth, and that he imprint not so much in his scholars mind the date of the ru●●e of Carthage, as the manners of H●nniball and Scipio, nor so much where Marc●llus died, as because he was unworthy of his devoir he died there: that he teach him not somuch to know Histories, as to judge of them. It is, amongst things that best agree with my humour, the subject to which our spirits do most diversely apply themselves. I have read in T 〈…〉 Livi●s a number of things, which peradventure others never read, in whom Plutarch haply read a hundred ●ore, then ever I could read, and which perhaps the author himself did never intend to ●●t down. To some kind of men, it is a mere gramaticall study, but to others a perfect anatomy of Philosophy; by means whereof, the secretest part of our nature is searched-into. There are in Plutarch many ample discourses most worthy to be known: for in my judgement▪ he is the chief workmaster of such works, whereof there are a thousand, whereat he hath but slightly glanced; for with his finger he doth but point us out a way to walk in, if we list; and is sometimes pleased to give but a touch at the quickest and main point of a discourse, from whence they are by diligent study to be drawn, and so brought into open marke●. As that saying of his. That the inhabitants of Asia, served but one alone, because they could not pronounce one only syllable, which is Non gave perhaps both subject and occasion to my friend Beotie to compose his book of voluntary servitude. If it were no more but to see Plutarch wrest a slight action to man's life; or a word that seemeth to bear no such sense, it will serve for a whole discourse. It is p 〈…〉 en of understanding should so much love brevity, without doubt their reputation is thereby better, but we the worse▪ Plutarch had rather we should commend him for his judgement, then for his knowledge, he loveth better to leave a kind of longing-desire in us of him, than a satiety. He knew very well, that even in good things, too much may be said: and that Alexandridas did justly reprove him, who spoke very good sentences to the Ephores, but they were overtedious. Oh stranger, quoth he, thou speakest what thou oughtest, otherwise than thou shouldest. Those that have lean and thin body's stuff them up with bombasting. And such as have but poor matter, will puffe-it up with lofty words. There is a marvellous clearness, or as I may terme-it an enlightening of man's judgement drawn from the commerce of men, and by frequenting abroad in the world: we are all so contrived and compact in ourselves, that our sight is made shorter by the length of our nose. When Socrates was demanded whence he was, he answered, not of Athens, but of the world; for he, who had his imagination more full, and farther stretching, embraced all the world for his native City, and extended his acquaintance, his society, and affections to all mankind: and not as we-do, that look no further than our feet. If the frost chance to n●p the vines about my village, my Priest doth presently argue, that the wrath of God hangs over our head, and threateneth all mankind▪ and judgeth that the pip is already ●al●e upon the Cannibals. In viewing these intestine and civil broils of ours, who doth not exclaim, that this world's vast-frame is near unto a dissolution, and that the day of judgement is ready to fall on us? never remembering that many worse revolutions have been seen, and that whilst we are plunged in grief, and overwhelmed in sorrow, a thousand other parts of the worldbesides, are blessed with all happiness, and wallow in pleasures, and never think on us? whereas, when I behold our lives, our licence, and impunity, I wonder to see them so mild and easy. He on whose head it haileth, thinks all the Hemisphere beside to be in a storm and tempest. And as that dull-pated Savoyard said, that if the seely king of France could cunningly have managed his fortune, he might very well have made himself chief Steward of his Lord's household, whose imagination conceived no other greatness than his Masters; we are all insensible of this kind of error: an error of great consequence and prejudice. But whosoever shall present unto his inward eyes, as it were in a Table, the Idea of the great image of our universall-mother Nature, attired in her richest robes, sitting in the throne of her Majesty, and in her visage shall read, so general, and so constant a variety; he that therein shall view himself, not himself alone, but a whole kingdom, to be in respect of a great circle; but the smallest point that can be imagined, he only can value things according to their essential greatness and proportion. This great universe (which some multiply as Species under one Genus) is the true looking-glass wherein we must look, if we will know whether we be of a good stamp, or in the right byase. To conclude, I would have this worlds-frame to be my scholars choise-booke: So many strange humours, sundry sects, varying judgements, divers opinions, different laws, and fantastical customs teachus to judge rightly of ours, and instruct our judgement to acknowledge his imperfections and natural weakness, which is no easy an apprenticeship: So many innovations of estates, so many falls of Princes, and changes of public fortune, may, and aught to teach us, not to make so great account of ou●s: So many names, so many victories, and so many conquests buried in dark oblivion, makes the hope to perpetuate our names, but ridiculous, by the surprising of ●en Argo lettiers, or of a small cottage, which is known but by his fall. The pride and fierceness of so many strange and gorgeous shows: the pride-puft majesty of so many courts, and of their greatness, aught to confirm and assure our sight, undauntedly to bear the affronts and thunderclaps of ours, without ceiling our eyes: So many thousands of men, low-laide in their graves afore-us, may encourage-us, not to fear, or be dismayed to go meet so good company in the other world; and so of all things else. Our life (said Pythagoras) drawes-neare unto the great and populous assemblies of the Olympike games, wherein some, to get the glory, and to win the goal of the games, exercise their bodies with all industry; others, for greediness of gain, bring thither marchand see to sell: others there are (and those be not the worst) that seek after no other good, but to mark, how, wherefore, and to what end, all things are done: and to be spectators or observers of other men's lives and actions, that so they may the better judge and direct their own. Unto examples may all the most profitable Discourses of Philosophy be sorted, which ought to be the touchstone of human actions, and a rule to square them by, to whom may be said, — quid fas optare, quid asper Pers. sat. 3. 69. V●●le ●ummus habet, patriae charisque propinquis Quantum elargiri deceat, quem te Deus esse jussis, & humana qua part locatus es in re, Quid sumus, aut quidnam victuri gignimur:— What thou mayest wish, what profit may come clear, 67. From new-stampt coin, to friends and country dear, What thou ought'st give: whom God would have thee be, And in what part 'mongst men he placed thee. What we are, and wherefore, To live here we were boar. What it is to know, and not to know (which ought to be the scope of study) what valour, what temperance, and what justice-is: what difference thereis between ambition and avarice, bondage and freedom, subjection and liberty, by which marks a man may distinguish true and perfect contentment, and how farforth one ought to fear or apprehend death, grief, or shame. Et quo quemque modo fugiátque ferátque laborem. Virg A●n. lib. ● 853. How every labour he may ply, And bear, or every labour fly. What wards or springs move-us, and the causes of so many motions in-us: For me seemeth▪ that the first discourses, wherewith his conceit should be sprinkled, aught to be those, that rule his manners, and direct his sense; which will both teach him to know himself, and how to live, and how to die-well. Among the liberal Sciences, let us begin with that which makesus free: Indeed, they may all in some sort stead-us, as an instruction to our life, and use ofit; as all other things-else serve the same to some purpose or other. But let us make especial choice of that; which may directly and pertinently serve the same. If we could restrain and adapt the appurtenances of our life to their right byase and natural limits, we should find the best part of the Sciences that now are in use, clean out of fashion with us: yea, and in those that are most in use, there are certain byways and deep-●lows most profitable, which we should do-well to leave, and according to the institution of Socrates, limit the course of our studies in those where profit is wanting▪ — sapere aude, Incipe: vivendi qui rectè prorogat ●oram, Hor. lib. 1. epist. 2. 40. Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis, at ille Labitur, & lab●tur in omne volubilis aevum. Be bold to be wise: to begin, be strong, He that to live well doth the time prolong, Clowne-like expects, till down the stream be run; That runs, and will run, till the world be done. It is more simplicity to teach our children. Quid moveant Pisces, animosáque signa Leonis, Lotus & Hesperia quid Capricornus aq●●. Prop. li. 4. ●● 1. 85. What Pisces move, or hot-breathed L●os beams, Or Capricornus bathed in western streams. The knowledge of the stars, and the motion of the eightspheare, before their own. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 What longs it to the seven stars, and me, Or those about Boôtes be. Anaximenes' writing to Pythagoras, saith, with what sense can I ammuse myself to the secrets of the Stars, having continually ●eath or bondage before mine eyes? For at that time the Kings of Persia were making preparations to war against his Country. All men ought to say so. Being beaten, with ambition, with avarice, with rashness, and with superstition, and having such other enemies unto life within him. Wherefore shall I study and take care about the mobility and variation of the world? When he is once taught what is fit to make him better and wiser, he shallbe entertained with Logic, natural Philosophy, Geometry, and Rhetoric, then having settled his judgement, look what science he doth most addict himself unto, he shall in short time attain to the perfection of it. His lecture shall be sometimes by way of talk and sometimes by book: his tutor may now & then supply him with the same Author, as an end & motive of his institution: sometimes giving him the pith & substance of it ready chewed. And if of himself he be not so thoroughly acquainted with books, that he may readily find so many notable discourses as are in them to effect his purpose, it shall not be amiss, that some learned man being appointed to keep him company, who at any time of need, may furnish him with such munition, as he shall stand in need of; that he may afterward distribute and dispense them to his best use. And that this kind of lesson be more easy and natural then that of Gaza, who will make question? Those are but harsh, thorny, and unpleasant precepts; vain▪ idle & immaterial words, on which small hold may be taken; wherein is nothing to quicken the mind. In this, the spirit findeth substance to bide and feed upon. A fruit without all comparison much better, and that will soon be ripe. It is a thing worthy consideration, to see what state things are brought unto in this our age; and how Philosophy, even to the wisest, and men of best understanding, is but an idle, vain and fantastical name, of small use, and less worth, both in opinion and effect. I think these Sophistries are the cause of it, which have forestalled the ways to come unto it: They do very ill, that go about to make it seem as it were inaccessible for children to come unto, setting it forth with a wrimpled, ghastly, and frowning visage; who hath ●asked her with so counterfeit, pale, and hideous a countenance? There is nothing more beauteous, nothing more delightful, nothing more gamesome; and as I may say, nothing more fond wanton: for she presenteth nothing to our eyes, and preacheth nothing to our ears, but sport and pastime. A sad and lowering look plainly declareth, that that is not her haunt. Demetrius the Grammarian, finding a company of Philosophers sitting close together in the Temple of Delphos, said unto them, Either I am deceived, or by your plausible and pleasant looks, you are not in any serious and earnest discourse amongst yourselves; to whom one of them named Heracleon the Megarian answered, That belongeth to them, who busy themselves in seeking, whether the future tense of the verb 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hath a double ●, or that labour to find the derivation of the comparatives, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and of the superlatives 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 it is they, that must chafe in entertaining themselves with their science: as for discourses of Philosophy they are wont to glad, rejoice, and not to vex and molest those that use them. Deprendas animi torment a latentis in aegro I●●●● sa●. 9 18. Corpore, deprendas & gaudia, sumit v●rumqu● Ind ●abitum facies. You may perceive the torments of the mind, Hid in sick body, you the joys may find, The face such habit takes in either kind. That mind which harboureth Philosophy, aught by reason of her sound health, make that body also sound and healthy: it ought to make her contentment to through-shine in all exterior parts: it ought to shapen and model all outward demeanours to the model of it: and by consequence arm him that doth possess it, with a gracious stoutness, and lively audacity, with an active and pleasing gesture, and with a settled and cheerful countenance. The most evident token, and apparent sign of true wisdom, is a constant, and unconstrained rejoicing, whose estate is like unto all things above the Moon, that is, ever clear, always bright. It is Baroco and Baralip●on, that makes their followers prove so base and idle, and not Philosophy; they know hi●not, but by hearsay; what? Is it not she, that cleareth all storms of the mind? And teacheth misery, 'samine, and sickness to laugh? Not by reason of some imaginary Epicicles, but by natural and palpable reasons. She aimeth at nothing but virtue: it is virtue she seeks after; which as the school saith, is not pitched on the top of an high, steepy, or inaccessible hill; for they that have come unto her, affirm, that cleane-contrarie, she keeps her stand, and holds her mansion, in a fair, flourishing, and pleasant plain, whence as from an high watch tower, she survaieth all things, to be subject unto her, to whom any man may with great sacilitie come; if he but know the way or entrance to her palace: for, the paths that lead unto her, are certain fresh, and shady green allies, sweet and flowage ways, whose ascent is even, easy, and nothing wearisome, like unto that of heavens-vaults. Forsomuch as they have not frequented this virtue, who gloriously, as in a throne of Majesty sits sovereign, goodly, triumphant, lovely, equally delicious, and courageous, protesting herself to be a professed and irreconcilable enemy to all sharpness, austerity, fear, and compulsion; having nature for her guide, fortune and voluptuousness for her companions; they according to their weakness have imaginarily feigned her, to have a foolish, sad, grim, quarelous, spiteful, threatening, and disdainful visage, with an horrid and unpleasant look; and have placed her, upon a craggy, sharp, and unfrequented rock, amidst desert cliffs, and uncouth crags, as a scarecrow, or bugbear, to affright the common people with. Now the tutor, which ought to know, that he should rather seek to fill the mind, and store the will of his disciple, as much, or rather more, with love and affection, then with awe, and reverence unto virtue, may show and tell him, that Poets follow common humours, making him plainly to perceive, and as it were palpably to feel, that the Gods have rather placed labour and sweat at the entrances, which lead to V●nus chambers, then at the doors, that direct to Pallas cabinets. And when he shall perceive his scholar to have a sensible feeling of himself, presenting Bradamant, or Angelica before him, as a Mistress to enjoy, embellished with a natural, active, generous, and unspotted beauty, not ugly, or Giantlike, but blithe and lively, in respect of a wanton, soft, affected, and artificiall-flaring beauty; the one attired like unto a young man, coyfed with a bright-shining helmet, the other disguised and dressed about the head like unto an impudent harlot, with embroideries, frizelings, and carcanets of pearls: he will no doubt deem his own love to be a man and no woman, if in his choice he differ from that effeminate shepherd of Phrigia. In this new kind of lesson, he shall declare unto him, that the prize, the glory, and height of true virtue, consisteth in the facility, profit, & pleasure of his exercises: so far from difficulty, and encumbrances, that children as well as men, the simple as soon as the wise, may come unto her. Discretion and temperance, not force or waywardnesse are the instruments to bring him unto her. Socrates (virtues chief favourite) that he might the better walk in the pleasant, natural, and open path, of her progresies, doth voluntarily and in good earnest, quit all compulsion. She is the nurse and softer-mother of all human pleasures, who in making them just and upright, she also makes them sure and sincere. By moderating them, she keepeth them in ure and breath. In limiting and cutting them off, whom she refuseth; she whets-us-on toward those she leaveth unto us; and plenteously leaves-us them, which Nature pleaseth, and like a kind mother giveth us over unto satiety, if not unto wearisomeness, unless we will peradventure say, that the rule and bridle, which stayeth the drunkard before drunkenness, the glutton before surfeiting, and the lecher before the losing of his hair, be the enemies of our pleasures. If common fortune faile-hir, it clearly escapes her; or she cares not for her, or she frames another unto herself, altogether her own, not so fleeting, nor so rolling. She knoweth the way how to be rich, mighty and wise, and how to lie in sweet-perfumed beds. She loveth life; she delights in beauty, in glory, and in health. But her proper and particular office is, first to know how to use such goods temperately, and how to lose them constantly. An office much more noble, then severe, without which, all course of life is unnatural, turbulent, and deformed, to which one may lawfully join those rocks, those encumbrances, and those hideous monsters. If so it happen, that his Disciple prove of so different a condition, that he rather love to give▪ ear to an idle fable, then to the report of some noble voyage, or other notable and wise discourse, when he shall hear it; that at the found of a Drum, or clang of a Trumpet, which are wont to rouse and arm the youthly heat of his companions, turneth to another that calleth him to see a play, tumbling, juggling tricks, or other idle loose-time sports; and who for pleasures-sake doth not deem it more delightsome to return all sweaty and weary from a victorious combat, from wrestling, or riding of a horse, than from a Tennis-court, or dancing school, with the prize or honour of such exercises; The best remedy I know for such a one, is, to put him prentice to some base occupation, in some good town or other, yea, were he the son of a Duke; according to Plato's rule, who saith, That children must be placed, not according to their father's conditions, but the faculties of their mind. Since it is Philosophy that teacheth us to live, and that infancy as well as other ages, may plainly read her lessons in the same, why should it not be imparted unto young Scholars? Vdum & molle lutum est, nunc nunc properandus, & acri Pers. sa●. ●●23. Fingendus fine fine rota. He's moist and soft mould, and must by and by Be cast, made up, while wheel whirl's readily. We are taught to live, when our life is well-nigh spent. Many scholars have been infected with that loathsome and marrow-wasting disease, before ever they came to read Aristotle's treatise of Temperance. Cicero was wont to say, That could be outlive the lives of two men, he should never find leisure to study the Lyrike Poets. And I find these Sophisters both worse and more unprofitable. Our child is engaged in greater matters; And but the first fifteen or sixteen years of his life, are due unto Pedantisme, the rest unto action: let us therefore employ so short time, as we have to live in more necessary instructions. It is an abuse; remove these thorny quiddities of Logic, whereby our life can no whit be amended, and betake ourselves to the simple discourses of Philosophy; know how to choose and fitly to make use of them: they are much more easy to be conceived then one of Becace his tales. A child coming from nurse is more capable of them, than he is to learn to read or write. Philosophy hath discourses, whereof infancy as well as decaying old-age may make good use. I am of Plutarkes' mind, which is, that Aristotle did not so much ammuse his great Disciple about the arts how to frame syllogisms, or the principles of Geometry, as he endeavoured to instruct-him with good precepts, concerning valour, prowess, magnanimity, and temperance, and an undaunted assurance not to fear any thing; and with such munition he sent him, being yet very young, to subdue the Empire of the world, only with 30000. footmen, 4000 horsemen, and 42000. Crowns in money. As for other arts and sciences▪ he saith Alexander honoured them, and commended their excellency and comeliness; but for any pleasure he took in them, his affection could not easily be drawn to exercise them. — petite hinc invenésque senésque S●t. 5.64. Finem animo certum, miserîsque viatica canis. Young men and old, draw hence (in your affairs) Your minds set mark, provision for graire hairs. It is that which Epicurus said in the beginning of his letter to Meniceus: Neither let the youngest shun, nor the oldest weary himself in philosophying, for who doth otherwise seemeth to say, that either the season to live happily is not yet come, or is already past. Yet would I not have this young gentleman pent-up, nor carelessly castoff to the heedless choler, or mesancholie humour of the hasty Schoolmaster. I would not have his budding spirit corrupted with keeping-him fast-tied, and as it were labouring fourteen or fifteen hours a day poring on his book, as some do, as if he were a day-labouring man; neither do I thinke-it fit, if at any time, by reason of some solitary or melancholy complexion, he should be seen with an over-indiscreet application given to his book, it should be cherished in him; for, that doth often makehim both unapt for civil conversation, and distracts him from better employments: How many have I seen in my days, by an over-greedie desire of knowledge, become as it were foolish? Carneades was so deeply plunged, and as I may say besotted in it, that he could never have leisure to cut his hair, or pair his nails: nor would I have his noble manners obscured by the incivility and barbarisine of others. The French wisdom hath long since proverbially been spoken-of, as very apt to conceive study in her youth, but most unapt to keep it long. In good truth, we see at this day, that there is nothing lovelier to behold, than the young children of France; but for the most part, they deceive the hope which was fore-apprehended of them: for when they once become men, thereis no excellency at all in them. I have heard men of understanding hold this opinion, that the Colleges to which they are sent (of which there are store) do thus besot-them: whereas to our scholar, a cabinet, a gardin, the table, the bed, a solitariness, a company, morning and evening, and all hours shall be alike unto him, all places shall be a study for him: for Philosophy (as a former of judgements, and modeler of customs) shall be his principal lesson, having the privilege to intermeddle herself with all things, and in all places. Isocrates the Orator, being once requested at a great banquet to speak of his art, when all thought he had reason to answer, said, It is not now time to do what I can, and what should now be done, I cannot do it; For, to present orations, or to enter into disputation of Rhetoric, before a company assembled together to be merry, and make good cheer, would be but a medley of harsn and jarring music. The like may be said of all other Sciences. But touching Philosophy, namely in that point where it treateth of man, and of his duties, and offices, it hath been the common judgement of the wisest, that in regard of the pleasantness of her conversation, she ought not to be rejected, neither at banquets, nor at sports. And Plato having invited her to his solemn feast, we see how kindly she entertaineth the company with a mild behaviour, fitly suiting herself to time and place, notwithstanding it be one of his learned'st and profitable discourses. Aequè pauperibus prodest, loc●pletibus aequè, Hor. lib. 1 epis●. 125. Et neglecta aequè pueris senibúsque nocebit. Poor men alike, alike rich men it easeth, Alike it scorned, old and young displeaseth. So doubtless he shall less be idle than others; for even as the paces we bestow walking in a gallery, although they be twice as many more, wearie-us not so much as those we spend in going a set journey: So our lesson being passed over, as it were, by chance, or way of encounter, without strict observance of time or place, being applied to all our actions, shall be digested, and never felt. All sports and exercises shall be a part of his study; running, wrestling, music, dancing, hunting, and managing of arms, and horses. I would have the exterior demeanour or decency, and the dispolition of his person to be fashioned together with his mind: for, it is not a mind, it is not a body that we erect, but it is a man, and we must not make two parts of him. And as Plato saith, They must not be erected one without another, but equally be directed, no otherwise then a couple of horses matched to draw in one selfsame ●eem●. And to heare-him, doth he not seem to employ more time and care in the exercises of his body: and to think that the mind is together with the same exercised, and not the contrary? As for other matters, this institution ought to be directed by a sweet-severe mildness; Not as some do, who in lieu of gently-bidding children to the banquet of letters, present them with nothing but horror and cruelty. Let me have this violence and compulsion removed, there is nothing that, in my seeming, doth more bastardise and dizzy a well-born, and gentle nature: If you would have him stand in awe of shame and punishment, do not so much enure him toit: accustom him patiently to endure sweat and cold, the sharpness of the wind, the heat of the sun, and how to despise all hazards. Remove from him all niceness and quaintness in clothing, in lying, in eating, and in drinking: fashion him to all things; that he prove not a fair and wanton-puling boy, but a lusty and vigorous boy: When I was a child, being a man, and now am old, I have ever judged & believed the same. But amongst other things, I could never away with this kind of discipline used in most of our Colleges. It had peradventure been lesse-hurtfull, if they had somewhat inclined to mildness, or gentle entreaty. It is a very prison of captivated youth, and proves dissolute, in punishing it before it be so. Come upon them when they are going to their lesson, and you hear nothing but whipping and brawling, both of children tormented, and masters besotted with anger and chafing. How wide are they, which go about to allure a child's mind to go to his book, being yet but tender and fearful, with a stearne-frowning countenance, and with handsfull of rods? Oh wicked and pernicious manner of teaching! which Quintilian hath very well noted, that this imperious kind of authority, namely, this way of punishing of children, draws many dangerous inconveniences within. How much more decent were it, to see their school-houses and forms strewed with green boughs and flowers, then with bloody burchen-twigs? If it lay in me, I would do as the Philosopher Speusippus did, who caused the pictures of Gladness and joy, of Flora, and of the Graces, to be setup round about his school-house. Where their profit lieth, there should also be their recreation. Those meats ought to be sugred-over, that are healthful for children's stomachs, and those made bitter that are hurtful for them. It is strange to see how careful Plato showeth himself in framing of his laws about the recreation & pastime of the youth of his City, and how far he extends himself about their exercises, sports, songs, leaping, and dancing, whereof he faith, that severe antiquity gave the conduct and patronage unto the Gods themselves, namely, to Apollo, to the Muses, and to Munerva. Mark but how farforth he endevoreth to give a thousand precepts to be kept in his places of exercises both of body and mind. As for learned Sciences, he stands not much upon them, and seemeth in particular to commend Poesy, but for Musickes-sake. All strangeness and self particularity in our manners, and conditions, is to be shunned, as an enemy to society and civil conversation. Who would not be astonished at Demophons' complexion, chief steward of Alexander's household, who was wont to sweat in the shadow, and quiver for cold in the sun? I have seen some to startle at the smell of an apple, more than at the shot of a piece; some to be frighted with a mouse, some ready to cast their gorge at the sight of a mess of cream, and others to be scared with seeing a featherbed shaken: as Germanicus, who could not abide to see a cock, or hear his crowing. There may happily be some hidden property of nature, which in my judgement might easily be removed, if it were taken in time. Institution hath gotten this upon me (I must confess with much a do) for, except beer, all things else that are man's food agree indifferently with my taste. The body being yet supple, aught to be accommodated to all fashions and customs; and (always provided, his appetites & desires be kept under) let a young man boldly be made fit for all Nations and companies-yea, if need be, for all disorders and sorfeting; let him acquaint himself with all fashions; That he may be able to do all things, and love to do none but those that are commendable. Some strict Philosophers commend not, but rather blame Calisthenes, for losing the good favour of his Master Alexander, only because he would not pledge him as much as he had drunk to him. He shall laugh, jest, dally, and debauch himself with his Prince. And in his debauching, I would have him outgo all his fellows in vigour and constancy, and that he omit not to do evil, neither for want of strength or knowledge, but for lack of will. Multum interest, utrum peccare quis nolit, aut nesctat. There is a great difference, whether one have no will, or no wit to do amiss. I thought to have honoured a gentleman (as great a stranger, & as far from such riotous disorders as any is in France) by inquiring of him in very good company, how many times in all his life he had been drunk in Germany, during the time of his abode there, about the necessary affairs of our King; who took it even as I meant it, and answered three times, telling the time and manner how. I know some, who for want of that quality, have been much perplexed when they have had Ho. epist. 17. 23. occasion to converse with that nation. I have often noted with great admiration, that wonderful nature of Alcibiades, to see how easily he could suit himself to so diverse fashions, and different humours, without prejudice unto his health; sometimes exceeding the sumptuousness and pomp of the Persians, and now and then surpassing the austerity and frugality of the Lacedæmonians, as reform in Sparta, as voluptuous in Icnia. Omnis Aristippum decuit colour, & status, & res. 25. All colours, states, and things are fit For courtly Aristippus wit. Such a one would I frame my Disciple, — quem duplici panno patientia velat. 29. Mirabor, vitae via si conversa decebit, Whom patience clothes with suits of double kind, I muse, if he another way will find. Personamque feret non inconcinnus utramque. He not unfitly may, Both parts and persons play. Loe-heer my lessons, wherein he that acteth them, profiteth more, than he that but knoweth them, whom if you see, you hear, and if you hear him, you see him. God forbid, saith some body in Plato, that to Philosophise, be to learn many things, and to exercise the arts. Hanc amplissimam omnium artium bcne vivendi disciplinam, vita magis quam litter is persecuti Ci●. Tusc. q●. lib. 4. sunt. This discipline of living well, which is the amplest of all other arts, they followed rather in their lives, then in their learning or writing. Leo Prince of the Phliasians, inquiring of Heraclides Ponticus, what art he professed, he answered. Sir, I profess neither art nor science; but I am a Philosopher. Some reproved Diogenes, that being an ignorant man, he did nevertheless meddle with Philosophy, to whom he replied, so much the more reason have I, and to greater purpose doc I meddle withit. Hegesias prayed him upon a time to read some book unto him; You are a merry man, said he: As you choose natural and not painted, right and not counterfeit figs to eat, why do you not likewise choose, not the painted and written, but the true and natural exercises? He shall not so much repeat, as act his lesson. In his actions shall he make repetition of the same. We must observe, whether there be wisdom in his enterprises, integrity in his demeanour, modesty in his jestures, justice in his actions, judgement and grace in his speech, courage in his sickness, moderation in his sports, temperance in his pleasures, order in the government of his house, and indifferency in his taste, whether it be flesh, fish, wine, or water, or whatsoever he feedeth upon. Qui disciplinam Ci●. ib. lib. 2. suam non ost entationem scientiae, sed legem vitae putet: quique obtemperet ipse sibi, & aecretis pareat. Who thinks his learning not an ostentation of knowledge, but a law of life, and himself obeys himself, and doth what is decreed. The true mirror of our discourses, is the course of our lives. Xeuxidamus answered one that demanded of him, why the Lacedæmonians did not draw into a book, the ordinances of prowess, that so their young men might read them; it is, saith he, because they would rather accustom them to deeds and actions, then to books and writings, Compare at the end of fifteen or sixteen years one of these collegiall Latinizers, who hath employed all that while only in learning how to speak, to such a one as I mean. The world is nothing but babbling and words, and I never saw man, that doth not rather speak more than he ought, then less. Notwithstanding half our age is consumed that way. We are kept four or five years learning to understand bare words, and to join them into clauses, then as long in proportioning a great body extended into four or five parts; and five more at least, ere we can succinctly know how to mingle, join, & interlace them handsomely into a subtle fashion, and into one coherent orb. Letus leaveit to those, whose profession is to do nothing else. Being once on my journey toward Orleans, it was my chance to meet upon that plain that lieth on this side Clery, with two Masters of Arts, travelling toward Bordeaux, about fifty paces one from another far-off behind them, I descried a troop of horsemen, their Master riding foremost, who was the Earl of Rochefocault; one of my servants inquiring of the first of those Masters of arts, what Gentleman he was that followed him; supposing my servant had meant his fellow-scholler, for he had not yet seen the Earl's train, answered pleasantly, He is no gentleman Sir, but a Grammarian, and I am a Logician. Now, we that chose seek not to frame a Grammarian, nor a Logician, but a complete gentleman, let us give them leave to misspend their time; we have elsewhere, and somewhat else of more import to do. So that our Disciple be well and sufficiently stored with matter; words will follow apace, and if they will not follow gently, he shall hale themon perforce. I hear some excuse themselves, that they cannot express their meaning, and make a semblance that their heads are so full-stuft with many goodly things, but for want of eloquence they can neither utter nor make show of them. It is a mere foppery. And will you know what? in my seeming, the cause is, They are shadows and chimeras, proceeding of some formelesse conceptions, which they cannot distinguish or resolve within, and by consequence are not able to produce them, in as much as they understand not themselves: And if you but mark their earnestness, and how they stammer & labour at the point of their delivery, you would deem, that what they go withal, is but a conceiving, and therefore nothing near down-lying; and that they do but lick that imperfect and shapeless lump of matter, As for me, I am of opinion and Socrates would have it so, that he who hath a clear and lively imagination in his mind, may easily produce and utter the same, although it be in Bergamask, or Welsh, and if he be dumb, by signs and tokens. Vertáque praevisam rem non invita sequentur. Hor. art. poet. 311. When matter we foreknow, Words voluntary flow. As one said, as poetically in his prose, cum res animum occupavere, verba ambiunt. When Sen. contr●u. lib. 7. proae. matter hath possessed their minds, they hunt after words: and another: Ipsae res verba rapiunt. Things themselves will catch and carry words: He knows neither Ablative, Conjunctive, Substantive, nor Gramar, no more doth his Lackey, nor any Oyster wife about the streets, and yet if you have a mind to it, he will entertain you your fill, and peradventure stumble as little and as seldom against the rules of his tongue, as the best Master of arts in France. He hath no skill in Rhetoric, nor can he with a preface forestall and captivate the Gentle Readers good will: nor careth he greatly to know it. In good sooth, all this garish painting is easily defaced, by the lustre of an inbred, and simple truth; for these dainties and acquaint devises, serve but to ammuse the vulgar sort, unapt and incapable to taste the most solid, and firm meat: as Afer very plainly declareth in Cornelius Tacitus. The Ambassadors of Samos being come to Cleomenes King of Sparta, prepared with a long prolix Oration, to stir him up to war against the tyrant Polycrates, after he had listened a good while unto them, his answer was: Touching your Exordium or beginning I have forgotten it; the middle I remember not; and for your conclusion I will do nothing in it. A fit, and (to my thinking) a very good answer; and the Orators were put to such a shift, as they knew not what to reply. And what said another? the Athenians from out two of their cunning Architects, were to choose one to erect a notable great frame: the one of them more affected and self-presuming, presented himself before them, with a smooth fore-premeditated discourse, about the subject of that piece of work, and thereby drew the judgements of the common people unto his liking; but the other in few words, spoke thus: Lords of Athens, what this man hath said, I will perform. In the greatest earnestness of Cicero's eloquence many were drawn into a kind of admiration; But Cato jesting at it, said, Have we not a pleasant Consul? A quick cunning Argument, and a witty saying, whether it go before, or come after, it is never out of season. If it have no coherence with that which goeth before, nor with what cometh after; it is good and commendable in itself. I am none of those that think a good Rhyme, to make a good Poem; let him hardly (if so he please) make a short syllable long, it is no great matter: if the invention be rare and good, and his wit and judgement have cunningly played their part. I will say to such a one; he is a good Poet, but an ill Versifier. Emunctae naris, durus componere versus. ●●r. lib 1. Cat. 4. 8. Lucil. A man whose sense could finely pierce, But harsh and hard to make a verse. Let a man (saith Horace) make his work lose all seams, measures, and joints. Tempora certa modósque, & quod prius ordine verbum est, 58. Posterius facias, praeponens ultima primis: 62. Invenias etiam disiecti membra Poetae. Set times and moods, make you the first word last, The last word first, as if they were new cast: Yet find th'unjointed Poets joints stand fast. He shall for all that, nothing gainsay himself, every piece will make a good show. To this purpose answered Menander those that chid him, the day being at hand, in which he had promised a Comedy, and had not begun the same, Tut-tut, said he, it is already finished, there wanteth nothing but to add the verse untoit: for, having ranged and cast the plot in his mind, he made small account of feet, of measures, or cadences of verses, which indeed are but of small import in regard of the rest. Since great Ronzarde and learned Bellay, have raised our French Poesy unto that height of honour, where it nowis: I see not one of these petty-ballad-makers, or prentise-dogrell rymers, that doth not bombast his labours with high swelling and heaven-disimbowelling words, and that doth not marshal his cadences very near as they do. Plus sonat quam valet. The sound is more than the weight or worth. And Sen. epist. 40. for the vulgar sort, there were never so many Poets, and so few good: but as it hath been easy for them to represent their rhymes, so come they far short in imitating the rich descriptions of the one, and rare inventions of the other. But what shall he do, if he be urged with sophistical subtleties about a syllogism? A gammon of Bacon makes a man drink, drinking quencheth a man's thirst, Ergo, a gammon of bacon quencheth a man's thirst. Let him mock at-it, it is more witty to be mocked at, then to be answered. Let him borrow this pleasant counter-craft of Aristippus; Why shall I unbind that, which being bound doth so much trouble me? Some one proposed certain Logical quiddities against Cleanthes, to whom Chrysippus said; use such juggling tricks to play with children, and divert not the serious thoughts of an aged man to such idle matters. If such foolish wiles, Contorta & aculeata sophismata, Ci●. Acad. qu. lib. 4. Intricate and fiinged sophisms, must persuade a lie, it is dangerous; but if they prove void of any effect, and move him but to laughter, I see not why he shall beware of them. Some there are so foolish that will go a quarter of a mile out of the way to hunt after a acquaint new word, if they once get in chase; Aut qui non verba rebus aptant, sedres extrinsecus arcessunt, quibus verba conveniant. Or such as fit not words to matter, but fetch matter from abroad, whereto words be fitted. And another, Qui a●icuius verbi decore placentis, vocentur ad id quod non proposuerunt Sen. epist. 59 scribere. Who are alured by the grace of some pleasing word, to write that they intended not to write. I do more willingly wind up a witty notable sentence, that so I may sew-it upon me, then unwind my thread to go fetch it. chose, it is for words to serve and wait upon the matter, and not for matter to attend upon words, and if the French tongue cannot reach untoit, let the Gaskonie, or any other. I would have the matters to surmount, and so fill the imagination of him that harkneth, that he have no remembrance at all of the words. It is a natural, simple, and unaffected speech that I love, so written as it is spoken, and such upon the paper, as it is in the mouth, a pithy, sinnowie, full, strong, compendious, and material speech, not so delicate and affected, as vehement and piercing. Haec demum sapiet dictio, quae feriet. Epitaph. L●ca●. 6. In fine, that word is wisely fit, Which strikes the sense, the mark doth hit. Rather difficult then tedious, void of affection, free, loose and bold, that every member ofit seem to make a body; not Pedantical, nor Friar-like, nor Lawyerlike, but rather downright, soldier-like. As Suetonius calleth that of julius Caesar, which I see no reason wherefore he calleth it. I have sometimes pleased myself in imitating that licentiousness or wanton humour of our youths, in wearing of their garments; as carelessly to let their cloaks hang down over one shoulder; to wear their cloaks scarf or bawdrikewise, and their stockings loose-hanging about their legs. It represents a kind of disdainful fierceness of these foreign embellish, and neglect carelessness of art: But I commend it more being employed in the course and form of speech. All manner of affectation, namely in the liveliness and liberty of France, is unseemly in a Courtier. And in a Monarchy every Gentleman ought to address himself unto a Courtier's carriage. Therefore do we well somewhat to incline to a native and careless behaviour. I like not a contexture, where the seams and pieces may be seen: As in a well compact body, what need a man distinguish and number all the bones and veins severally? Quae veritati operam Sen. epist. 40. m 75. p. dat oratio, incomposita sit & simplex. Quis accuratè loquitur, nisi qui vult putidè l●qui? The speech that intendeth truth must be plain and unpolished: Who speaketh elaborately, but he that means to speak unsavouredly? That eloquence offereth injury unto things, which altogether drawes-us to observe-it. As in apparel, it is a sign of pusillanimity for one to mark himself, in some particular and unusual fashion: so likewise in common speech, for one to hunt after new phrases, and unaccustomed-quaint words, proceedeth of a scholastical and childish ambition. Let me use none other than are spoken in the hals of Paris. Aristophanes' the Grammarian was somewhat out of the way, when he reproved Epicurus, for the simplicity of his words, and the end of his art oratory, which was only perspicuity in speech. The imitation of speech, by reason of the facility of it, followeth presently a whole nation. The imitation of judging and inventing, comes more slow. The greater number of Readers, because they have found one selfsame kind of gown, suppose most falsely to hold one like body. Outward garments and cloaks may be borrowed, but never the sinews and strength of the body. Most of those that converse with me, speak like unto these Essays; but I know not whether they think alike. The Athenians (as Plato averreth) have for their part great care to be fluent and eloquent in their speech; The Lacedæmonians endeavour to be short and compendious; And those of Crect labour more to be plentiful in conceits, then in language. And these are the best. Zeno was wont to say, That he had two sorts of disciples; the one he called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, curious to learn things, and those were his darlings, the other he termed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, who respected nothing more than the language. Yet can no man say, but that to speak well, is most gracious and commendable, but not so excellent as some make it: and I am grieved to see how we employ most part of our time about that only. I would first know mine own tongue perfectly, than my neighbours with whom I have most commerce. I must needs acknowledge, that the Greek and Latin tongues, are great ornaments in a gentleman, but they are purchased at over-high a rate. Vse-it who list, I will tell you how they may be gotten better cheap, and much sooner than is ordinarily used, which was tried in myself. My late father, having by all the means and industry, that is possible for man, sought amongst the wisest, and men of best understanding, to find a most exquisite and ready way of teaching, being advised of the inconveniences then in use; was given to understand, that the lingering while, and best part of our youth, that we employ in learning the tongues, which cost them nothing, is the only cause we can never attain to that absolute perfection of skill and knowledge, of the greeks, and Romans. I do not believe that to be the only cause. But so itis', the expedient my father found-out, was this; that being yet at nurse, and before the first losing of my tongue, I was delivered to a German (who died since, a most excellent Physician in France) he being then altogether ignorant of the French tongue, but exquisitely ready and skilful in the Latin. This man, whom my Father had sent-for of purpose, and to whom he gave very great entertainment, had me continually in his arms, and was mine only overseer. There were also iojned unto him two of his countrymen, but not so learned; whose charge was to attend, and now and then, to play with me; and all these together did never entertain me with other than the Latin tongue. As for others of his household, it was an inviolable rule, that neither himself, nor my mother, nor man, nor maide-servant, were suffered to speak one word in my company, except such Latin words, as every one had learned to chat and prattle with me, It were strange to tell how every one in the house profited therein. My Father and my Mother learned so much Latin, that for a need they could understandit, when they heardit spoken, even so did all the household servants, namely such as were nearest and most about-me. To be short, we were all so Latinized, that the towns round about us had their share ofit; insomuch as even at this day, many Latin names both of workmen and of their tools, are yet in use among them. And as for myself, I was about six years old, and could understand no more French or Perigordine, than Arabike, and that without art, without books, rules, or grammar, without whipping or whining. I had gotten as pure a Latin tongue as my Master could speak; the rather because I could neither mingle or confound the same with other tongues. If for an Essay they would give me a Theme, whereas the fashion in Colleges is, to give it in French, I had it in bad Latin, to reduce the same into good. And Nicholas Grucchi, who hath written, De comitijs Romanorum, Williám G●erenti, who hath commented Aristotle: George Buchanan, that famous Scottish Poet, and Marke-Antonie Muret, whom (while he lived) both France and Italy to this day, acknowledge to have been the best Orator: all which have been my familiar tutors, have often told me, that in mine infancy I had the Latin tongue so ready and so perfect, that themselves feared to take me in hand. And Buchanan, who afterward I saw attending on the Marshal of Brissacke, told me, he was about to write a treatise of the institution of children, and that he took the model and pattern from mine: for, at that time he had the charge and bringing up of the young Earl of Brissack, whom since we have seen prove so worthy and so valiant a captain. As for the Greek, wherein I have but small understanding, my father purposed to make me learne-it by art; But by new and uncustomed means, that is, by way of recreation and exercise. We did toss our declinations, and conjugations to and fro, as they do, who by way of a certain game at tables learn both Arithmetic and Geometry. For, amongst other things he had especially been persuaded to make me taste and apprehend the fruits of duty and science by an unforced kind of will, and of mine own choice; and without any compulsion or rigour to bring me up in all mildness and liberty: yea with such kind of superstition, that, whereas some are of opinion, that suddenly to awaken young children, and as it were by violence to startle and fright them out of their dead sleep in a morning (wherein they are more heavy and deeper plunged than we) doth greatly trouble and distemper their brains, he would every morning cause me to be awakened by the sound of some instrument; and I was never without a servant; Who to that purpose attended upon me. This example may serve to judge of the rest; as also to commend the judgement and tender affection of so careful and loving a father: who is not to be blamed, though he reaped not the fruits answerable to his exquisite toil, and painful manuring. Two things hindered the same; first the barrenness and unfit soil: for howbeit I were of a ●ound and strong constitution, and of a tractable and yielding condition, yet was I so heavy, so sluggish, and so dull, that I could not be roused (yea were-it to go to play) from-out mine idle drowsiness. What I saw, I saw it perfectly; and under this heavy, and as it were Lethe-complexion did I breed hardy imaginations, and opinions farre-above my years. My spirit was very slow, and would go no further than it was led by others; my apprehension blockish, my invention poor; and beside, I had a marvellous defect in my weak memory: it is therefore no wonder, if my father could never bring me to any perfection. Secondly, as those that in some dangerous sickness, moved with a kind of hopeful & greedy desire of perfect health again, give ear to every leach or Empiric, and follow all counsels, the goodman being exceedingly fearful to commit any oversight, in a matter he took so to heart, suffered himself at last to be led away by the common opinion, which like unto the Cranes, followeth ever those that go before, and yielded to custom: Having those no longer about him, that had given him his first directions, and which they had brought out of Italy. Being but six years old I was sent to the College of Guienne, then most flourishing and reputed the best in France, where it is impossible to add any thing to the great care he had, both to choose the best and most sufficient Masters, that could be found, to read unto me, as also for all other circumstances pertaining to my education; wherein contrary to usual customs of Colleges, he observed many particular rules. But so it is, it was ever a College. My Latin tongue was forthwith corrupted, whereof by reason of discontinuance, I afterward lost all manner of use: which new kind of institution, stood me in no other stead, but that at my first admittance, it made me to over-skip some of the lower forms, and to be placed in the highest. For at thirteen years of age, that I left the College, I had read over the whole course of Philosophy (as they call it) but with so small profit, that I can now make no account of it. The first taste or feeling I had of books, was of the pleasure I took in reading the fables of Ovid's Metamorphosies; for, being but seven or eight years old, I would steal and sequester myself from all other delights, only to read them: Forsomuch as the tongue wherein they were written was to me natural; and it was the easiest book I knew, and by reason of the matter therein contained, most agreeing with my young age. For of King Arthur, of Lancelot du Lake, of Amadis, of Huon of Bordeaux, and such idle time-consuming, and wit-besotting trash of books wherein youth doth commonly ammuse itself, I was not so much as acquainted with their names, and to this day know not their bodies, nor what they contain: So exact was my discipline. Whereby I became more careless to study my other prescript lessons. And well did it fall out for my purpose, that I had to deal with a very discreet Master, who out of his judgement could with such dexterity wink▪ at, and second my untowardliness, and such other faults that were in me. For by that means, I read-over Virgil's Aeneades, Terence, Plautus, and other Italian Comedies, alured thereunto by the pleasantness of their several subjects: Had he been so foolishly-severe, or so sverely froward as to cross this course of mine, I think verily I had never brought any thing from the College, but the hate and contempt of Books, as doth the greatest part of our Nobility. Such was his discretion, and so warily did he behave himself, that he saw and would not see: he would foster and increase my longing: suffering me but by stealth, and by snatches to glut myself with those Books; holding ever a gentle hand over me, concerning other regular studies. For, the chiefest thing my father required at their hands (unto whose charge he had committed me) was a kind of well-conditioned mildness, and facility of complexion. And, to say truth, mine had no other fault, but a certain dull-languishing, and heavy slothfulness. The danger was not, I should doill, but that I should do nothing. No man did ever suspect, I would prove a bad, but an unprofitable man: foreseeing in me rather a kind of idleness, than a voluntary craftiness. I am not so self-conceited but I perceive what hath followed. The complaints that are daily buzzed in mine ears are these; that I am idle, cold, and negligent in offices of friendship, and duty to my parents, and kinsfolks; and touching public offices, that I am over-singular and disdainful. And those that are most injurious cannot ask, wherefore I have taken, and why I have not paid? but may rather demand, why I do not quit, and wherefore I do not give? I would take it as a favour, they should wish such effects of supererogation in me. But they are unjust and over-partiall, that will go about to exact that from me, which I owe not, with more rigour than they will exact from themselves that which they owe; wherein if they condemn me, they utterly cancel, both the gratifying of the action, and the gratitude, which thereby would be due to me. Whereas the active well-doing should be of more consequence, proceeding from my hand, in regard I have no passive at all. Wherefore I may so much the more freely dispose of my fortune, by how much more it is mine, and of myself that am most mine own. Notwithstanding, if I were a great blazoner of mine own actions, I might peradventure bar such reproaches, and justly upbraid some, that they are not so much offended, because I do not enough, as for that I may, and it lies in my power to do much more than I do. Yet my mind ceased not at the same time to have peculiar unto itself well-settled motions, true and open judgements, concerning the objects, which it knew; which alone, and without any help or communication it would digest. And amongst other things I verily believe, it would have proved altogether incapable, and unfit to yield unto force, or stoop unto violence. Shall I account or relate this quality of my infancy, which was, a kind of boldness in my looks, and gentle softness in my voice, and affability in my gestures, and a dexterity in conforming myself to the parts I undertook? for before the age of the Altar ab undecimo tum me vix ceperat annus: Virg. Buc. ●cl. 8. 39 Years had I (to make even.) Scarce two above eleven. I have unde-rgone and represented the chiefest parts in the Latin Tragedies of Buchanan, Guerenti, and of Muret; which in great state were acted and played in our college of Guienne: wherein Andreas Goveanus our Rector principal; who as in all other parts belonging to his charge, was without comparison the chiefest Rector of France, and myself (without ostentation be it spoken) was reputed, if not a chief master, yet a principal Actor in them. It is an excercise I rather commend than disallow in young gentlemen: and have seen some of our Princes (in imitation of some of former ages) both commendably and honestly, in their proper persons act and play some parts in Tragedies. It hath heretofore been esteemed a lawful exercise, and a tolerable profession in men of honour, namely in Greece. Aristoni tragico actori rem aperit: huic & genus & fortuna honesta erant: nec ars quia nihil tale apud Graecos Lib dec. 3. l. 4. pudori est, ea deformaebat. He imparts the matter to Ariston a Player of tragedies, whose progeny and fortune were both honest; nor did his profession disgrace them, because no such matter is a disparagement amongst the Grecians. And I have ever accused them of impertinency, that condemn and disallow such kinds of recreations, and blamed those of injustice, that refuse good and honest Comedians, (or as we call them) Players, to enter our good towns, and grudge the common people such public sports. Politic and wel-ordered commonwealths, endeavour rather carefully to unite and assemble their Citizens together; as in serious offices of devotion, so in honest exercises of recreation. Common society and loving friendship is thereby cherished and increased. And beside, they cannot have more formal and regular pastimes allowed them, than such as are acted and represented in open view of all, and in the presence of the magistrates themselves: And if I might bear sway, I would think it reasonable, that Princes should sometimes, at their proper charges, gratify the common people with them, as an argument of a fatherly affection, and loving goodness towards them: and that in populous and frequented cities, there should be Theatres & places appointed for such spectacles; as a diverting of worse inconveniences, and secret actions. But to come to my intended purpose, there is no better way then to allure the affection, and to entice the appetite: otherwise a man shall breed but asses laden with Books. With jerkes of rods they have their satchels full of learning given them to keep. Which to do well, one must not only harbour in himself, but wed and marry the same with his mind. The six and twentieth Chapter. It is folly to refer Truth or Falsehood to our sufficiency. IT is not peradventure without reason, that we ascribe the facility of believing and easiness of persuasion, unto simpl● c●tie and ignorance: For me seemeth to have learn theretofore, that belief was, as it were an impression conceived in our mind, and according as the same was found either more soft, or of leave resistance, it was easier to imprint any thing therein. Venecesse est lancem in libra po●deribus impositis deprimi: sic animum perspicuis cedere. As it is Cic. Acad. qu. l. 4 necessary a scale must go down the balla●●c when weights are put into it, so must a mind yield to things that are manifest. Forasmuch therefore, as the mind being most empty and without counterpoise, so much the more easily doth it yield under the burden of the first persuasion. And that's the reason why children, those of the common sort, women, and sickefolks, are so subject to be n●is-led, and so easy to swallow gudgeons. Yet on the other side it is a sottish presumption to disdain and condemn that for false, which unto us seemeth to bear no show of likelihood or truth: which is an ordinary fault in those who persuade themselves to be of more sufficiency than the vulgar sort. So was I sometimes wont to do, and if I heard any body speak, either of ghosts walking, of foretelling future things, of enchantments, of witchcrafts, or any other thing reported, which I could not well conceive, or that was beyond my reach, Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas, Hor. lib. 2. ep. 2. 208. Nocturnos lemures, portentáque Thessali- Dreams, magic terrors, witches, uncouth-wonders, Nightwalking spirits, Thessalian conjured thunders. I could not but feel a kind of compassion to see the poor and silly people abused with such follies. And now I perceive, that I was as much to be moaned myself: Not that experience hath since made me to discern any thing beyond my former opinions: yet was not my curiosity the cause of it, but reason hath taught me, that so resolutely to condemn a thing for false, and impossible, is to assume unto himself the advantage, to have the bounds and limits of Gods will, and of the power of our common mother Nature tied to his sleeve: And that there is no greater folly in the world, then to reduce them to the measure of our capacity▪ and bounds of our sufficiency▪ If we term those things monsters or miracles to which our reason cannot attain, how many such do daily present themselves unto our sight? Let us consider through what clouds, and how blindefolde we are led to the knowledge of most things, that pass our hands: verily we shall find, it is rather custom, than science that removeth the strangeness of them fromus: — iam nemo fessus saturúsque viden●i, Lucr. li. 2. Suspicere in caeli dignatur lucida templa. Now no man tired with glut of contemplation Deigns to have heavens bright Church in admiration. And that those things, were they newly presented unto us, we should doubtless deem them, as much, or more unlikely, and incredible, than any other. — si nunc primùm mortalibus adsint 1042: Ex improviso, ceu sint obiecta repentè, Nil magis his rebus poterat mirabile dici, Aut minus antè quod auderent fore credere gentes. If now first on a sudden they were here 'mongst mortal men, object to eye or care, Nothing, than these things, would more wondrous be, Or that, men durst less think, ever to see. He who had never seen a river before, the first he saw, he thought it to be the Ocean: and things that are the greatest in our knowledge, we judge them to be the extremest that nature worketh in that kind. Scilicet & fluvius qui non est maximus, ei est Lib. 6. 671. Qui non antè aliquem maior em vidit, & ingens Arbour homóque videtur, & omnia de genere omni Maxima quae vidit quisque, haec ingentia fingit. A stream none of the greatest, may so seem To him, that never saw a greater stream. Trees, men, seem huge, and all things of all sorts, The greatest one hath seen, he huge reports. Consuetudine oculorum assuescunt animi, neque admirantur, neque requirunt rationes carum Cic. Nat. D●. l. 2 rerum, quas semper vident. Minds are acquainted by custom of their eyes, nor do they admire, or inquire the reason of those things, which they continually behold. The novelty of things doth more incite us to search-out the causes, than their greatness: we must judge of this infinite power of nature, with more reverence, and with more acknowledgement of our own ignorance and weakness. How many things of small likelihood are there, witnessed by men, worthy of credit, whereof if we cannot be persuaded, we should at least leave them insuspence? For, to deem them impossible, is by rash presumption to presume and know how far possibility reacheth. If a man did well understand, what difference there is between impossibility, and that which is unwonted, and between that which is against the course of nature, and the common opinion of men, in not believing rashly, and in not disbeleeving easily; the rule of Nothing toomuch, commanded by Chilon, should be observed. When we find in Froysard, that the Earl of Foix, (being in Bearn▪) had knowledge of the defeature at juberoth, of king john of Castille, the morrow next it happened, and the means he allegeth for it, a man may well laugh at it: And of that which our Annals report, that Pope Honorius, the very same day, that King Philip Augustus died at Nantes, caused his public funerals to be solemnised, and commanded them to be celebrated throughout all Italy. For, the authority of the witnesses hath peradventure no sufficient warrant to restrain us. But what? if Plutarch, besides diverse examples which he allegeth of antiquity, saith to have certainly known, that in Domitian's time, the news of the battle lost by Antonius in Germanis many days journeys thence, was published at Rome, and divulged through the world, the very same day it succeeded: And if Caesar holds, that it hath many times happened, that report hath foregone the accident: Shall we not say, that those simple people have suffered themselves to be cozened and seduced by the vulgar sort, because they were not as clear-sighted as we? Is there any thing more dainty, more unspotted, and more lively than Pliny's judgement, whensoever it pleaseth him to make show of it? Is there any farther from vanity? I omit the excellency of his learning and knowledge, whereof I make but small reckoning: in which of those two parts do we exceed him? Yet there is no scholar so meanly learned, but will convince him of lying, & read a lecture of contradiction against him upon the progress of nature's works. When we read in Bouchet the miracles wrought by the relics of Saint Hilary, his credit is not sufficient to bar us the liberty of contradicting him: yet at random to condemn all such like histories, seemeth to me a notable impudency. That famous man Saint Augustine, witnesseth to have seen a blind child, to recover his sight, over the relics of Saint Gervase and Protaise at Milene: and a woman at Carthage, to have been cured of a canker, by the sign of the holy Cross, which a woman newly baptised made unto her: and Hesperius a familiar friend of his, to have expelled certain spirits, that molested his house, with a little of the earth of our saviours sepulchre; which earth being afterwards transported into a church, a Paralitike man was immediately therewith cured: and a woman going in procession, having as she past-by with a nosegay touched the case wherein Saint Stevens bones were, and with the same afterward rubbed her eyes, she recovered her sight, which long before she had utterly lost: & diverse other examples, where he affirmeth to have been an assistant himself. What shall we accuse him of, and two other holy Bishops, Aurelius and Maximinus, whom he calleth for his witnesses? Shall it be of ignorance, of simplicity, of malice, of facility, or of imposture? Is any man living so impudent, that thinks he may be compared to them, whether it be in virtue or piety, in knowledge or judgement, in wisdom or sufficiency? Qui vi rationem nullam afferrent, ipsa autoritate me frangerent: Who Cic▪ Di●. li. 1. though they alleged no reason, yet might subdue me with their very authority. It is a dangerous fond hardiness, and of consequence, besides the absurd temerity it draws with it, to despise what we conceive not. For, after that according to your best understanding, you have established the limits of truth, and bounds of falsehood, and that it is found, you must necessarily believe things, wherein is more strangeness, then in those you deny; you have already bound yourself to abandon them. Now that which me thinks brings as much disorder in our consciences, namely in these troubles of religion wherein we are, is the dispensation Catholics make of their belief. They suppose to show themselves very moderate and skilful, when they yield their adversaries any of those articles now in question. But besides that, they perceive not what an advantage it is for him that chargeth you, if you but once begin to yield & give them ground; and how much that encourageth him to pursue his point: those articles which they choose for the lightest, are oftentimes most important. Either a man must wholly submit himself to the authority of our Ecclesiastical policy, or altogether dispense himself from it: It is not for us to determine what part of obedience we owe unto it. And moreover, I may say it, because I have made trial of it, having sometimes used this liberty of my choice, and particular election, not regarding certain points of the observance of our Church, which seem to bear a face, either more vain, or more strange; coming to communicate them with wisemen, I have found that those things have a most solid and steady foundation, and that it is but foolishness and ignorance, makes us receive them with less respect and reverence then the rest. Why remember we not, what, and how many contradictions we find and feel even in our own judgement? How many things served us but yesterday as articles of faith, which to day we deem but fables? Glory and curiosity are the scourges of our souls. The latter induceth us to have an oar in every ship, and the former forbids us to leave any thing unresolved or undecided. The seven and twentieth Chapter. Of Friendship. COnsidering the proceeding of a Painter's work I have; a desire hath possessed me to imitate him: He maketh choice of the most convenient place and middle of every wall, there to place a picture, laboured with all his skill and sufficiency; and all void places about it he filleth up with antic Boscage or Crotesko works; which are fantastical pictures, having no grace, but in the variety and strangeness of them. And what are these my compositions in truth, other than antic works, and monstrous bodies, patched and huddled up together of diverse members, without any certain or well ordered figure, having neither order, dependency, or proportion, but casual and framed by chance? Desinit in piscem mulier formosa supernè. Hor. art. poe. 4. A woman fair for parts superior, Ends in a fish for parts inferior. Touching this second point I go as far as my Painter, but for the other and better part I am far behind: for my sufficiency reacheth not so far, as that I dare undertake, a rich, a polished, and according to true skill, and arte-like table. I have advised myself to borrow one of Steven de la Boitie, who with this kind of work shall honour all the world. It is a discourse he entitled, Voluntary Servitude, but those who have not known him, have since very properly rebaptized the same. The against one. In his first youth he writ, by way of essay, in honour of liberty against Tyrants. It hath long since been dispersed amongst men of understanding, not without great and well deserved commendations: for it is full of wit, and containeth as much learning as may be: yet doth it differ much from the best he can do. And if in the age I knew-him in, he would have undergone my design, to set his fantasies down in writing, we should doubtless see many rare things, and which would very nearly approach the honour of antiquity: for especially touching that part of nature's gifts, I know none may be compared to him. But it was not long of him, that ever this treatise, came to man's view, and I believe he never saw it since it first escaped his hands: with certain other notes concerning the edict of januarie, famous by reason of our intestine war, which haply may in other places find their deserved praise. It is all I could ever recover of his relics (whom when death seized, he by his last will and testament, left with so kind remembrance, heir and executor of his library and writings) besides the little book, I since caused to be published: To which his pamphlet I am particularly most bounden, for so much as it was the instrumental mean of our first acquaintance. For it was showed me long time before I saw him; and gave me the first knowledge of his name, addressing, and thus nourishing that unspotted friendship, which we (so long as it pleased God) have so sincerely, so entire and inviolably maintained between us, that truly a man shall not commonly hear of the like; and amongst our modern men no sign of any such is seen. So many parts are required to the erecting of such a one, that it may be counted a wonder, if fortunce once in three ages contract the like. There is nothing to which Nature hath more addressed us than to society. And Aristotle saith, that perfect Lawgivers have had more regardful care of friendship then of justice. And the utmost drift of its perfection is this. For generally, all those amities which are forged and nourished by voluptuousness or profit, public or private need, are thereby so much the less fair and generous, and so much the less true amities, in that they intermeddle other causes, scope, and fruit with friendship, than itself alone: Nor do those four ancient kinds of friendships; Natural, social, hospitable, and venerean, either particularly or conjointly beseem the same. That from children to parents may rather be termed respect: Friendship is nourished by communication, which by reason of the overgreat disparity cannot be found in them, and would haply offend the duties of nature: for neither all the secret thoughts of parents can be communicated unto children, lest it might engender an unbeseeming familiarity between them, nor the admonitions and corrections (which are the chiefest offices of friendship) could be exercised from children to parents. There have nations been found, where, by custom, children killed their parents, and others, where parents slew their children, thereby to avoid the hindrance of enter-bearing one another in after times: for naturally one dependeth from the ruin of another. There have Philosophers been found disdaining this natural conjunction, witness Aristippus, who being urged with the affection he ought his children, as proceeding from his loins, began to spit, saying, That also that excrement proceeded from him, and that also we engendered worms and lice. And that other man, whom Plutarch would have persuaded to agree with his brother, answered, I care not a straw the more for him, though he came out of the same womb I did. Verily the name of Brother is a glorious name, and full of loving kindness, and therefore did he and I term one another sworn brother: but this commixture, dividence, and sharing of goods, this joining wealth to wealth, and that the riches of one shall be the poverty of another, doth exceedingly distemper and distract all brotherly alliance, and lovely conjunction: If brothers should conduct the progress of their advancement and thrift in one same path and course, they must necessarily oftentimes hinder and cross one another. Moreover, the correspondency and relation that begetteth these true and mutually-perfect amities, why shall it be found in these? The father and the son may very well be of a far differing complexion, and so many brothers: He is my son, he is my kinsman; but he may be a fool, a bad, or a peevish-minded man. And then according as they are friendships, which the law and duty of nature doth commandus, so much the less of our own voluntary choice and liberty is there required unto it: And our genuine liberty hath no production more properly her own, then that of affection and amity. Sure I am, that concerning the same I have assayed all that might be, having had the best and most indulgent father that ever was, even to his extremest age, and who from father to son was descended of a famous house, and touching this rare-seene virtue of brotherly concord very exemplare: — & ipse Hor. l. 2. od. 2. 6. Notus in fratres animi paterni, To his brothers known so kind, As to bear a father's mind. To compare the affection toward women unto it, although it iproceed from our own free choice, a man cannot, nor may it be placed in this rank: Her fire, I confess it (— neque enim est de● nescta nostri Quae dulcem curis miscet amaritiem.) (Nor is that Goddess ignorant of me, Whose bitter sweets with my cares mixed be.) to be more active, more fervent, and more sharp. But it is a rash and wavering fire, waving and divers: the fire of an ague subject to fits and stints, and that hath but slender holdfast of us. In true friendship, it is a general & universal heat, and equally tempered, a constant and settled heat, all pleasure and smoothness, that hath no pricking or stinging in it, which the more it is in lustful love, the more is it but a ranging and mad desire in following that which flies us, Come segue la lepre il cacciatore Ariof. can. 10. ●●. 7. Al freddo, all caldo, alla montagna, all lito, Ne piu l'estima poiche presa vede, E sol dietro a chi sugge affrettail pied. Even as the huntsman doth the hare pursue, In cold, in heat, on mountains, on the shore, But cares no more, when he her ta'en espies, Speeding his pace, only at that which flies. As soon as it creepeth into the terms of friendship, that is to say, in the agreement of wills, it languisheth and vanisheth away: enjoying doth lose it, as having a corporal end, and subject to satiety. On the other side, friendship is enjoyed according as it is desired, it is neither bred, nor nourished, nor increaseth but in jovissance, as being spiritual, and the mind being refined by use and custom. Under this chief amity, these fading affections have sometimes found place in me, lest I should speak of him, who in his verses speaks but too much of it. So are these two passions entered into me in knowledge one of another, but in comparison never: the first flying a high, and keeping a proud pitch, disdainfully beholding the other to pass her points far under it. Concerning marriage, besides that it is a covenant which hath nothing free but the entrance, the continuance being forced and constrained, depending elsewhere then from our will, & a match ordinarily concluded to other ends: A thousand strange knots are there in commonly to be unknit, able to break the web, & trouble the whole course of a lively affection; whereas in friendship, there is no commerce or business depending on the same, but itself. Seeing (to speak truly) that the ordinary sufficiency of women, cannot answer this conference & communication, the nurse of this sacred bond: nor seem their minds strong enough to endure the pulling of a knot so hard, so fast, and durable. And truly, if without that, such a genuine and voluntary acquaintance might be contracted, where not only minds had this entire jovissance, but also bodies, a share of the alliance, and where a man might wholly be engaged: It is certain, that friendship would thereby be more complete and full: But this sex could never yet by any example attain unto it, and is by ancient schools rejected thence. And this other Greek licence is justly abhorred by our customs, which notwithstanding, because according to use it had so necessary a disparity of ages, and difference of offices between lovers, did no more sufficiently answer the perfect union and agreement, which here we require: Quis est enim iste amor Cic. Tusc. que. 4. amicitiae? curneque deformem adolescentem quisquam amat, neque for mosum senem? For, what love is this of friendship? why doth no man love either a deformed young man, or abeantifull old man? For even the picture the Academic makes of it, will not (as I suppose) disavow me, to say thus in her behalf: That the first fury, inspired by the son of Venus in the lover's hart, upon the object of tender youths-flower, to which they allow all insolent and passionate violences, an immoderate heat may produce, was simply grounded upon an external beauty; a false image of corpor all generation: for in the spirit it had no power, the sight whereof was yet concealed, which was but in his infancy, and before the age of budding. For, if this fury did seize upon a base minded courage, the means of its pursuit, where riches, gifts, favour to the advancement of dignities, and such like vile merchandise, which they reprove. If it fell into a most generous mind, the interpositions were likewise generous: Philosophical instructions, documents to reverence religion, to obey the laws, to die for the good of his country: examples of valour, wisdom and justice. The lover endevoring and studying to make himself acceptable by the good grace and beauty of his mind (that of his body being long since decayed) hoping by this mental society to establish a more firm and permanent bargain. When this pursuit attained the effect in dueseason, (for by not requiring in a lover, he should bring leisure and discretion in his enterprise, they require it exactly in the beloved; for as much as he was to judge of an internal beauty, of a difficile knowledge, & abstruse discovery) then by the interposition of a spiritual beauty was the desire of a spiritual conception engendered in the beloved. The latter was here chiefest; the corporal, accidental and second, altogether contrary to the lover. And therefore do they prefer the beloved, and verify that the gods likewise prefer the same: and greatly blame the Poet Aeschylus, who in the love between Achilles and Patroclus ascribeth the lover's part unto Achilles, who was in the first and beardless youth of his adolescency, and the fairest of the Grecians. After this general community, the mistress and worthiest part of it, predominant & exercising her offices (they say the most availeful commodity did thereby redound both to the private & public) That it was the force of countries received the use of it, and the principal defence of equity and liberty: witness the comfortable loves of Hermodiu and Aristogiton. Therefore name they it sacred and divine, and it concerns not them whether the violence of tyrants, or the demisnesse of the people be against them: To conclude, all can be alleged in favour of the Academy, is to say, that it was a love ending in friendship, a thing which hath no bad reference unto the Stoical definition of love: Amorem conatum esse amicitiae facienda ex Cic. ibid. pulehritudinis specie. That love is an endeavour of making friendship by the show of beauty. I return to my description in a more equitable & equal manner. Omnino amicitiae corroboratis iam confirmatis● Cic. Ami●. ingenijs & aetatibus indicandae sunt. Clearly friendships are to be judge by wits, and ages already strengthened and confirmed. As for the rest, those we ordinarily call friends and amities, are but acquaintances and familiarities, tied together by some occasion or commodities, by means whereof our minds are entertained. In the amity I speak of, they entermixe and confound themselves one in the other, with so universal a commixture, that they wear out, and can no more find the seam that hath conjoined them together. If a man urge me to tell wherefore I loved him, I feel it cannot be expressed, but by answering; Because it was he, because it was myself. There is beyond all my discourse, and besides what I can particularly report of it, I know not what inexplicable and fatal power, a mean and Mediatrix of this indissoluble union. We sought one another, before we had seen one another, and by the reports we heard one of another; which wrought a greater violence in us, than the reason of reports may well bear: I think by some secret ordinance of the heavens, we embraced one another by our names. And at our first meeting, which was by chance at a great feast, and solemn meeting of a whole towneship, we found ourselves so surprised, so known, so acquainted, and so combinedly bound together, that from thence forward, nothing was so near unto us, as one unto another. He writ an excellent Latin Satire; since published; by which he excuseth and expoundeth the precipitation of our acquaintance, so suddenly come to her perfection; Since it must continue so short a time, and begun so late (for we were both grown men, and he some years older than myself) there was no time to be lost. And it was not to be modeled or directed by the pattern of regular and remiss friendship, wherein so many precautions of a long and preallable conversation are required. This hath no other Idea than of itself, and can have no reference but to itself. It is not one especial consideration, nor two, nor three, nor four, nor a thousand: It is I wot not what kind of quintessence, of all this commixture, which having seized all my will, induced the same to plunge and lose itself in his, which likewise having seized all his will, brought it to lose and plunge itself in mine, with a mutual greediness, and with a semblable concurrence. I may truly say, loose, reserving nothing unto us, that might properly be called our own, nor that was either his, or mine. When Lelius in the presence of the Roman Consuls, who after the condemnation of Tiberius Gracchus, pursued all those that had been of his acquaintance, came to inquire of Caius Blosius (who was one of his chiefest friends) what he would have done for him, and that he answered: All things, What? All things? replied he: And what if he had willed thee to burn our Temples? Blosius answered, He would never have commanded such a thing. But what if he had done it? replied Lelius: The other answered, I would have obeyed him: If he were so perfect a friend to Gracchus, as Histories report, he needed not offend the Consuls with this last and bold confession, and should not have departed from the assurance he had of Gracchus his mind. But yet those, who accuse this answer as seditious, understand not well this mystery: and do not presuppose in what terms he stood, and that he held Gracchus his will in his sleeve, both by power and knowledge. They were rather friends than Citizens, rather friends than enemies of their country, or friends of ambition and trouble. Having absolutely committed themselves one to another, they perfecty held the reins of one another's inclination: and let this yoke be guided by virtue and conduct of reason (because without them it is altogether impossible to combine and proportion the same.) The answer of Blosius was such as it should be. If their affections miscarried, according to my meaning, they were neither friends one to other, nor friends to themselves. As for the rest, this answer sounds no more than mine would do, to him that would in such sort inquire of me; if your will should command you to kill your daughter, would you do it? and that I should consent unto it: for, that beareth no witness of consent to do it: because I am not in doubt of my will, and as little of such a friends will. It is not in the power of the world's discourse to remove me from the certainty I have of his intentions and judgements of mine: no one of its actions might be presented unto me, under what shape soever, but I would presently find the spring and motion of it. Our minds have jumped so vnitedly together, they have with so fervent an aflection considered of each other, and with like affection so discovered and sounded, even to the very bottom of each others heart and entrails, that I did not only know his, as well as mine own, but I would (verily) rather have trusted him concerning any matter of mine, than myself. Let no man compare any of the other common friendships to this. I have as much knowledge of them as another, yea of the perfectest of their kind: yet will I not persuade any man to confound their rules, for so a man might be deceived. In these other strict friendships a man must march with the bridle of wisdom and precaution in his hand: the bond is not so strictly tied, but a man may in some sort distrust the same. Love him (said Chilon) as if you should one day hate him again. Hate him as if you should love him again. This precept, so abominable in this sovereign and mistress Amity, is necessary and wholesome in the use of vulgar and customary friendships: toward which a man must employ the saying Aristotle was wont so often to repeat, Oh you my friends, there is no perfect friend. In this noble commerce, offices and benefits (nurses of other amities) deserve not so much as to be accounted of: this confusion so full of our wills is cause of it: for even as the friendship I bear unto myself, admits no accrease, by any succour I give myself in any time of need, whatsoever the Stoics allege; and as I acknowledge no thanks unto myself for any service I do unto myself, so the union of such friends, being truly perfect, makes them lose the feeling of such duties, and hate, and expel from one another these words of division, and difference; benefit, good deed, duty, obligation, acknowledgement, prayer, thanks, and such their like. All things being by effect common between them; wills, thoughts, judgements, goods, wives, children, honour, and life; and their mutual agreement, being no other than one soul in two bodies, according to the fit definition of Aristotle, they can neither lend or give aught to each other. See here the reason why Lawmakers, to honour marriage with some imaginary resemblance of this divine bond, inhibit donations between husband and wife; meaning thereby to infer, that all things should peculiarly be proper to each of them, and that they have nothing to divide and share together. If in the friendship whereof I speak, one might give unto another, the receiver of the benefit should bind his fellow. For, each seeking more than any other thing, to do each other good, he who yields both matter and occasion, is the man showeth himself liberal, giving his friend that contentment, to effect towards him what he desireth most. When the Philosopher Diogenes wanted money, he was wont to say; That he redemanded the same of his friends, and not that he demanded it: And to show how that is practised by effect, I will relate an ancient singular example. Eudamidas the Corinthian had two friends. Charixenus a Sycionian, and Aretheus a Corinthian; being upon his deathbed, and very poor, and his two friends very rich, thus made his last will and testament. To Aretheus, I bequeath the keeping of my mother, and to maintain her when she shall be ●lde: To Charixenus the marrying of my daughter, and to give her as great a dowry as he may: and in case one of them shall chance to die before, I appoint the survivor to substitute his charge, and supply his place. Those that first saw this testament, laughed and mocked at the same; but his heirs being advertised thereof, were very well pleased, and received it with singular contentment. And Charixenus one of them, dying five days after Eudamidas, the substitution being declared in favour of Aretheus, he carefully and very kindly kept and maintained his mother, and of five talents that he was worth, he gave two & a half in marriage to one only daughter he had, and the other two & a half to the daughter of Eudamidas, whom he married both in one day. This example is very ample, if one thing were not, which is the multitude of friends: For, this perfect amity I speake-of, is indivisible; each man doth so wholly give himself unto his friend, that he hath nothing left him to divide elsewhere: moreover he is grieved that he is double, triple, or quadruple, and hath not many souls, or sundry wills, that he might confer them all upon this subject. Common friendships may be divided; a man may love beauty in one, facility of behaviour in another, liberality in one, and wisdom in another, paternity in this, fraternity in that man, & so forth: but this amity which possesseth the soul, and sways it in all sovereignty, it is impossible it should be double. If two at one instant should require help, to which would you run? Should they crave contrary offices of you, what order would you follow? Should one commit a matter to your silence, which if the other knew would greatly profit him, what course would you take? Or how would you discharge yourself? A singular and principal friendship dissolveth all other duties, & freeth all other obligations. The secret I have sworn not to reveal to another, I may without perjury impart it unto him, who is no other but myself. It is a great and strange wonder for a man to double himself; & those that talk of tripling, know not, nor cannot reach unto the height of it. Nothing is extreme, that hath his like. And he who shall presuppose, that of two I love the one as well as the other, and that they enter-love one another, and love me as much as I love them: he multiplieth in brotherhood, a thing most singular, and alonely one, and then which one alone is also the rarest to be found in the world. The remainder of this history agreeth very well with what I said; for, Eudamidas giveth as a grace & favour to his friends to employ them in his need: he leaveth them as his heirs of his liberality, which consisteth in putting the means into their hands, to do him good. And doubtless, the force of friendship is much more richly shown in his deed, then in Aretheus. To conclude, they are imaginable effects, to him that hath not tasted them; and which makes me wonderfully to honour the answer of that young Soldier to Cyrus, who inquiring of him, what he would take for a horse, with which he had lately gained the prize of a race, and whether he would change him for a Kingdom? No surely my Liege (said he) yet would I willingly forego him to gain a true friend, could I but find a man worthy of so precious an alliance. He said not ill, in saying, could I but find. For, a man shall easily find men fit for a superficial acquaintance; but in this, wherein men negotiate from the very centre of their hearts, and make no spare of any thing, it is most requisite, all the wards and springs be sincerely wrought, and perfectly true. In confederacies, which hold but by one end, men have nothing to provide for, but for the imperfections, which particularly do interest and concern that end and respect. It is no great matter what religion my Physician and Lawyer is of: this consideration hath nothing common with the offices of that friendship they owe-mee. So do I in the familiar acquaintances, that those who serve-me contract with me. I am nothing inquisitive whether a Lackey be chaste or no, but whether he be diligent: I fear not a gaming Muletier, so much as if he be weak; nor a hot swearing Cook, as one that is ignorant and unskilful; I never meddle with saying what a man should do in the world; there are over many others that do it; but what myself do in the world. Mihi sic usus est: Tibi, ut opus est facto, face. Ter. Heau. act. ● scen. 1. 28. So is it requisite for me; Do thou as needful is for thee. Concerning familiar tabletalk, I rather acquaint myself with, and follow a merry conceited humour, than a wise man: And in bed I rather prefer beauty, than goodness; and in society or conversation of familiar discourse, I respect rather sufficiency, though without Preva ' hommie, and so of all things else. Even as he that was found riding upon an hobby-horse, playing with his children, besought him, who thus surprised him, not to speak ofit, until he were a father himself, supposing the tender fondness, and fatherly passion, which then would possess his mind, should make him an impartial judge of such an action. So would I wish to speak to such as had tried what I speak of: but knowing how far such an amity is from the common use, & how seld seen and rarely found, I look not to find a competent judge. For, even the discourses, which stern antiquity hath left us concerning this subject, seem to me but faint and forceless in respect of the feeling I have of▪ it: And in that point the effects exceed the very precepts of Philosophy. Nil ego contul●rim iucundo sanus amico. Hor. li. 1. Sat. 5. 44. For me, be I well in my wit, Nought, as a merry friend, so fit. Ancient Menander accounted him happy, that had but met the shadow of a true friend: verily he had reason to say so, especially if he had tasted of any: for truly, if I compare all the rest of my forepast life, which although I have by the mere mercy of God, past at rest and ease, and except the loss of so dear a friend, free from all grievous affliction, with an ever-quietnesse of mind, as one that have taken my natural and original commodities in good payment, without searching any others: if, as I say, I compare-it all unto the four years, I so happily enjoyed the sweet company, and deare-deare society of that worthy man, it is nought but a vapour, nought but a dark and irksome light. Since the time I lost him, quem semper acerbum, Virg. Aen. 5. 49. Semper honoratum (sic Di● voluistis) habebo, Which I shall ever hold a bitter day, Yet ever honoured (so my God t'obey) I do but languish, I do but sorrow: and even those pleasures, all things present-me with, in stead of yielding me comfort, do but redouble the grief of his loss. We were copartners in all things. All things were with us at half; me thinks I have stolen his part from him. — Nec fas esse v●●a me voluptate hîc frui Ter Heau. act. 1. scen 1. 97. D●crevi, tantisper dum ille abest meus particeps. I have set down, no joy enjoy I may, As long as he my partner is away. I was so accustomed to be ever two, and so enured to be never single, that me thinks I am but half myself. Hor. li. 2. ●d. 17. 5. Illam me● si partem animae tulit, Maturior vis, quid moror altera, Nec charits aequè nec superstes, Integer? Ille dies utramque Duxit ruinam. Since that part of my soul riper fate reft me, Why stay I here the other part he left me? Nor so dear, nor entire, while here I rest: That day hath in one ruin both oppressed. There is no action can betide me, or imagination possess me, but I hear him saying, as indeed he would have done to me: for even as he did excel me by an infinite distance in all other sufficiencies and virtues, so did he in all offices and duties of friendship. Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus, Lib. 1. ●d. 24. 1. Tam chari capitis? What modesty or measure may I bear, In want and wish of him that was so dear? O misero frater adempte mihi! Catul. ele. 4. 20. 92. 23. 95. Omnia tecumv● àperierunt gaudia nostra, Quae tuus in vita dulcis alebat amor. Tu mea, tu moriens fregisti commoda frater, 21 94 Tecum unà tota est nostra sepulta anima, Cuius ego interitu tota de mente fugavi Haec studia, atque omnes delicias animi. 25 Alloquar? audiero nunquam tua verba loquentem? Nunquam ego te vita frater amabili●r, Aspiciam post hac? at certè semper amabo. El. 1. 9 O brother reft from miserable me, All our delight's are perished with thee, Which thy sweet love did nourish in my breath▪ Thou all my good haste spoiled in thy death: With thee my soul is all and whole enshrinde, At whose death I have cast out of mind All my minds sweetmeats, studies of this kind; Never shall I, hear thee speak, speak with thee? Thee brother, than life dearer, never see? Yet shalt thou ever be beloved of me. but letus a little hear this young man speak, being but sixteen years of age. Because I have found this work to have since been published (and to an ill end) by such as seek to trouble and subvert the state of our commonwealth, nor caring whether they shall reform it or no; which they have fond inserted among other writings of their invention, I have revoked my intent, which was to place-it here. And lest the Author's memory should any way be interessed with those that could not thoroughly know his opinions and actions, they shall understand, that this subject was by him treated of in his infancy, only by way of exercise, as a subject, common, bare-worn, and wyer-drawne in a thousand books. I will never doubt but he believed what he writ, and writ as he thought: for he was so conscientious, that no lie did ever pass his lips, yea were it but in matters of sport or play: and I know, that had it been in his choice, he would rather have been borne at Venice, than at Sarlac; and good reason why: But he had an other maxim deeply imprinted in his mind, which was, carefully to obey, and religiously to submit himself to the laws, under which he was borne. There was never a better Citizen, nor more affected to the welfare and quietness of his country, nor a sharper enemy of the changes, innovations, newfangles, and hurly-burlies of his time: He would more willingly have employed the utmost of his endeavours to extinguish and suppress, then to favour or further them: His mind was modeled to the pattern of other best ages. But yet in exchange of his serious treatise, I will here set you down another, more pithy, material, and of more consequence, by him likewise produced in that tender age. The eight and twentieth Chapter. Nine and twenty Sonnets of Steven de la Boetie, to the Lady of Grammont, Countess of Guissen. Madam, I present you with nothing that is mine, either because it is already yours, or because I find nothing therein worthy of you. But wheresoever these verses shall be seen, for the honour which thereby shall redound to them, by having this glorious Corisand● of Andoms for their guide, I thought it good to adorn them with your worthy name. I have deemed this present fit for your Ladyship, forsomuch as there are few Ladies in France, that either can better judge of Poesy, or fitter apply the use of it, than your worthy self: and since in these her drooping days, none can give it more life, or vigorous spirit, than you, by those rich and high-tuned accords, wherewith amongst a million of other rar● beauties, nature hath richly graced you. Madame, these verses deserve to be cherished by you: and I am persuaded you will be of mine opinion, which is, that none have come out of Gaskonie, that either had more wit, or better invention, and that witness to have proceeded from a richer vain. And let no jealousy possess you, inasmuch as you have but the remainder of that, which whilom I caused to be printed under the name of my Lord of Foix, your worthy, noble and dear kinsman: For truly, these have a kind of liveliness, and more piercing Emphasis than any other, and which I can not well express: as he that made them in his April's youth, and when he was inflamed with a noble-glorious flame, as I will one day tell your honour in your care. The other were afterward made by him in favour of his wife, at what time he wooed and solicited her for marriage, and began to feel I wot not what martiall-chilnesse, and husbands-coldnesse. And I am one of those, whose opinion is, that divine Poesy doth no where fadge so well, and so effectually applaudeth, as in a youthful, wanton, and unbridled subject. The abovementioned nine and twenty Sons of Boetie, and that in the former impressions of this book were here set down, have since been printed with his other works. The nine and twentieth Chapter. Of Moderation. AS if our sense of feeling were infected, we corrupt by our touching, things that in themselves are fair and good. We may so seize on virtue, that if we embrace it with an over greedy and violent desire, it may become vicious. Those who say, There is never excess in virtue, because it is no longer virtue if any excess be in it, do but jest at words. Insani sapiens nomen ferat, aequus iniqui, Hor. lib. 1. epi. 6. 25. Vltra quam satis est, virtut 'em si pet at ipsam. A wise man mad, just unjust, may I name, More than is meet, even virtue if he claim. Philosophy is a subtle consideration. A man may love virtue too much, and excessively demean himself in a good action. God's holy word doth apply itself to this byase. Be not wiser than you should, and be soberly wise. I have seen some great men, blemish the reputation of their religion, by showing themselves religious beyond the example of men of their quality. I love temperate and indifferent natures. Immoderation towards good, if it offend me not, it amazeth, and troubleth me how I should call it. Neither Pausanias his mother, who gave the first instruction, and for her sons death brought the first stone: Not Posthumius the Dictator, that brought his own son to his end, whom the heat and forwardness of youth, had haply before his rank, made to charge his enemies, seem so just as strange unto me. And I neither love to persuade or follow so savage and so dear a virtue. The Archer that overshootes his mark, doth no otherwise than he that shooteth short. Mine eyes trouble me as much in climbing up toward a great light, as to go down in the dark. Caliscles in Plato saith, The extremity of Philosophy to be hurtful: and persuades no man to wade further into it, than the bounds of profit: And that taken with moderation, it is pleasant and commodious, but in the end it makes a man wild and vicious, disdainful of religion and of common laws: an enemy of civil conversation: a foe to human sensuality, and worldly pleasures: incapable of all politic administration; and unfit to assist others or to help himself: apt to be without revenge buffeted, and baffled. He saith true: for in her excess, she enthralleth our natural liberty, and by an importunate wile, diverts us from the fair and plain path, which nature traceth out for us. The love we bear to women, is very lawful; yet doth Divinity bridle and restrain the same. I remember to have read in Saint Thomas, in a place where he condemneth marriages of kinsfolks in forbidden degrees, this one reason amongst others: that the love a man beareth to such a woman may be immoderate; for, if the wedlock, or husband-like affection be sound and perfect, as it ought to be, and also surcharged with that a man oweth to alliance and kindred, there is no doubt, but that surcrease may easily transport a husband beyond the bounds of reason. Those Sciences that direct the manners of men, as Divinity and Philosophy, meddleth with all things. There is no action so private and secret may be concealed from their knowledge and jurisdiction. Well do they learn that search and censure their liberty. It is women communicate their parts as much as a man list to wantonize with them: but to physic them bashfulness forbids them. I will then in their behalf teach husbands this, if there be any too much fleshed upon them: which is, that the very pleasures they have by the familiarity of their wives, except moderately used; they are reproved: and not only in that, but in any other unlawful subjects, a man may trespass in licentiousness and offend in excess. Those shameless endearing, which the first heat suggests unto us in that sportful delight, are not only undecently, but hurtfully employed towards our wives. Let them at least learn impudency from another hand. They are ever broad-waking when we need them. I have used no means but natural and simple instruction. Marriage is a religious and devout bond: and that is the reason the pleasure a man hath of it, should be a moderate, stayed, and serious pleasure, and mixed with severity, it ought to be a voluptuousness somewhat circumspect and conscientious. And because it is the chiefest of generation, there are that make a question, whether it be lawful to require them of copulation, as well when we have no hope of children, as when they are overaged, or big with child. It is an homicide, according to Plato. Certain nations (and amongst others, the Mahometan) abhor Conjunction with women great with child. Many also with those that have their monthly disease. Zenobia received her husband but for one charge; which done, all the time of her conception, she let him go at random, and that past, she gave him leave to begin again: a notable and generous example of marriage. Plato borroweth the narration (of some needy and hunger-starven Poet) of this sport. That jupiter one day gave his wife so hot a charge, impatient to stay till she came to bed, he laid her along upon the floor, and by the vehemence of his pleasure forgot the urgent and weighty resolutions lately concluded upon with the other gods of his celestial court; boasting he found it as sweet at that time, as he had done, when first he spoilt her of her virginity, by stealth and unknown to their parents. The Kings of Persia, called for their wives, when they went to any solemn feast, but when much drinking and wine began to heat them in good earnest they sent them to their chambers, seeing they could no longer refrain, but must needs yield to sensual tie, lest they should be partakers of their immoderate lust; and in their stead sent for other women, whom this duty of respect might not concern. All pleasures and gratifications are not well placed in all sorts of people. Epaminondas had caused a dissolute young man to be imprisoned: Pelopidas entreated him, that for his sake he would set him at liberty, but he refused him, and yielded to free him at the request of an harlot of his, which likewise sued for his enlargement; saying, it was a gratification due unto a Courtesan, and not to a Captain. Sophocles being partner with Pericles in the Praetorship, seeing by chance a fair boy to pass by: Oh what a beauteous boy goeth yonder! said he to Pericles: That speech were more fitting another than a Praetor, answered Pericles, who ought not only to have chaste hands, but also unpolluted eyes. Aelius Verus the Emperor, his wife complaining that he followed the love of other women, answered he did it for conscience sake, for so much as marriage was a name of honour, and dignity, and not of foolish and lascivious lust. And our Ecclesiastical History, hath with honour preserved the memory of that wife, which sued to be divorced from her husband, because she would not second and consent to his over-insolent and lewd embracements. To conclude, there is no voluptuousness so just, wherein excess and intemperance is not reproachful unto us. But to speak in good sooth, is not a man a miserable creature? He is scarce come to his own strength by his natural conditions, to taste one only complete, entire and pure pleasure, but he laboureth by discourse to cut it off: he is not wretched enough, except by art and study he augment his misery. Fortunae miseras auximus arte vias. Propert. li. 3. cl. 6.32. Fortune's unhappy ill, We amplify by skill. human wisdom doth foolishly seek to be ingenious in exercising herself to abate the number, and diminish the pleasure of sensualities, that pertain to us: as it doth favourably and industriously in employing her devises, to paint and set a lustre on evils, before our eyes, and therewith to recreate our sense. Had I been chief of a faction, I would have followed a more natural course, which to say true, is both commodious and sacred, and should peradventure have made myself strong enough to limit the same. Although our spiritual and corporal Physicians: as by covenant agreed upon between them, find no way of recovery, nor remedies for diseases of body and mind, but by torment, grief and pain, watching, fasting, haire-shirts, far and solitary exile, perpetual prison, rods and other afflictions, have therefore been invented: But so, that they be truly afflictions, and that there be some stinging sharpness in them: And that the success be not as Gallios' was, who having been confined to the isle of Lesbos, news came to Rome, that there he lived a merry life; and what the Senate had laid upon him for a punishment, redounded to his commodity: whereupon they agreed to revoke him home to his own house and wife, strictly enjoining him to keep the same, thereby to accommodate their punishment to his sense and feeling. For he to whom fasting should procure health and a merry heart, or he to whom poison should be more healthy than meat, it would be no longer a wholesome receipt, no more than drugs in other medicines, are of no effect to him that takes them with appetite and pleasure. Bitterness and difficulty are circumstances fitting their operat on. That nature which should take rhubarb as familiar, should no doubt corrupt the use of it; it must be a thing that hurts the stomach, if it shall cure it: and here the common rule fails, that infirmities are cured by their contraries: for one ill cureth another. This impression hath some reference to this other so ancient, where some think they gratify both heaven and earth by killing and massacring themselves, which was universally embraced in all religions. Even in our father's age; Amurath at the taking of Isth●us, sacrificed six hundred young Grecians to his father's soul: to the end their blood might serve as a propitiation to expiate the sins of the deceased. And in the new countries discovered in our days yet uncorrupted, and virgins, in regard of ours, it is a custom well nigh received everiewhere. All their idols are sprinkled with human blood, not without diverse examples of horrible cruelty. Some are burnt alive, and half roasted drawn from the fire, that so they may pull out their hearts and entrails; othersome, yea women are flayed quick, and with their yet-bleeding skins, they invest and cover others. And no less of examples of constant resolution. For these wretched sacrifiable people, old men, women and children, some days before, go themselves begging their alms, for the offering of their sacrifice, and all of full glee, singing, and dancing with the rest, they present themselves to the slaughter. The Ambassadors of the Kings of Mexico, in declaring and magnifying the greatness of their Master to Fernando Cortes, after they had told him, that he had thirty vassals, whereof each one was able to levy a hundred thousand combatants, and that he had his residence in the fairest and strongest City under heaven, added moreover, that he had fifty thousand to sacrifice for every year: verily some affirm that they maintain continual wars with certain mighty neighbouring Nations, not so much for the exercise and training of their youth, as that they may have store of prisoners taken in war to supply their sacrifices. In another province, to welcome the said Cortes, they sacrificed fifty men at one clap. I will tell this one story more: Some of those people having been beaten by him, sent to know him, and to entreat him of friendship. The messengers presented him with three kinds of presents, in this manner: Lord, if thou be a fierce God, that lovest to feed on flesh and blood, here are five slaves, eat them, and we will bring thee more: if thou be a gently mild God, here is incense and feathers; but if thou be a man, take these birds and fruits, that here we present and offer unto thee. The thirtieth Chapter. Of the Cannibals. AT what time King Pyrrhus came into Italy, after he had survaide the marshalling of the Army, which the Romans sent against him: I w●● not, said he, what barbarous men these are (for so were the Grecians want to call all strange nations) but the disposition of this Army, which I see, is nothing barbarous. So said the Grecians of that which Flaminius sent into their country: And Philip viewing from a Tower the order and distribution of the Roman camp, in his kingdom under Publius Sulpitius Galba. Lo how a man ought to take heed, lest he overweeningly follow vulgar opinions, which should be measured by the rule of reason, and not by the common report. I have had long time dwelling with me a man, who for the space of ten or twelve years had dwelled in that other world, which in our age was lately discovered in those parts where Villegaignon first landed, and surnamed Antarctic France. This discovery of so infinite and vast a country, seemeth worthy great consideration. I wot not whether I can warrant myself, that some other be not discovered hereafter, sithence so many worthy men, and better learned than we are, have so many ages been deceived in this. I fear me our eyes be greater than our bellies, and that we have more curiosity than capacity. We embrace all, but we fasten nothing but wind. Plate maketh Solon to report, that he had learned of the Priests of the city of Sesse in Egypt, that whilom, and before the general Deluge, there was a great Island called Atlantis, situated at the Plat. Time. mouth of the strait of Gibraltar, which contained more firm land than Africa and Asia together. And that the Kings of that country, who did not only possess that Island, but had so far entered into the main land, that of the breadth of Africa, they held as far as Egypt; and of Europe's length, as far as Tus●ame: and that they undertook to invade Asia, and to subdue all the nations that compass the Mediterranean Sea, to the gulf of Mare-Maggiore, and to that end they traversed all Spain, France and Italy, so far as Greece, where the Athenians made head against them; but that a while after, both the Athenians themselves, and that great Island, were swallowed up by the Deluge. It is very likely this extreme ruin of waters wrought strange alterations in the habitations of the earth: as some hold that the Sea hath divided Sicily from Italy, Haecloca vi quondam, & vasta convulsa ruina Virg. A●n. lib. 3. 414. 416. Dissiluisse ferunt, cum protinus vtr aque tellus una foret. Men say, sometimes this land by that forsaken, And that by this, were split, and ruine-shaken, Whereas till then both lands as one were taken. Cypress from Soria, the Island of Negroponte from the main land of Be●tia, and in other places joined lands that were sundered by the Sea, filling with mud and sand the channels between them. — sterilisque diu palus apt áqueremis Hor. art. Poet. 65. Vi●inas urbes alit, & grave sentit aratrum. The fen long barren, to be rowed in, now Both feeds the neighbour towns, and feels the plow. But there is no great appearance, the said Island should be the new world we have lately discovered; for, it well-nigh touched Spain, and it were an incredible effect of inundation, to have removed the same more than twelve hundred leagues, as we see it is. Besides, our modern Navigations have now almost discovered, that it is not an Island, but rather firm land, and a continent, with the East India's on one side, and the countries lying under the two Poles on the other; from which if it be divided, it is with so narrow a strait, and intervalle, that it no way deserveth to be named an Island: For, it seemeth there are certain motions in these vast bodies, some natural, and other some febricitant, as well as in ours. When I consider the impression my river of Dordoigne worketh in my time, toward the right shore of her descent, and how much it hath gained in twenty years, and how many foundations of diverse houses it hath overwhelmed and violently carried away; I confess it to be an extraordinary agitation: for, should it always keep one course, or had it ever kept the same, the figure of the world had ere this been overthrown: But they are subject to changes and alterations. Sometimes they overflow and spread themselves on one side, sometimes on another; and other times they contain themselves in their natural beds or channels. I speak not of sudden ●●undations, whereof we now treat the causes. In Modoc alongst the Sea-coast, my brother the Lord of Arsacke, may see a town of his buried under the sands, which the Sea casteth up before it: The tops of some buildings are yet to be discerned. His Rents and Domains have been changed into barren pastures. The inhabitants thereabouts affirm, that some years since, the Sea encroacheth so much upon them, that they have lost four leagues of firm land: These sands are her forerunners. And we see great hillokes of gravel moving which march half a league before it, and usurp on the firm land. The other testimony of antiquity, to which some will refer this discovery, as in Aristotle (if at least that little book of unheard of wonders be his) where he reporteth that certain Carthaginians having sailed ad●wart the Atlant●●● Sea, without the straight of Gibraltar, after long time, they at last discovered a great fertile Island; all replenished with goodly woods, and watered with great and deep rivers, far distant from all land, and that both they and others, alured by the goodness and fertility of the soil, went thither with their wives, children, and household, and there began to inhabit and settle themselves. The Lords of Carthage seeing their country by little and little to be dispeopled, made a law and express inhibition, that upon pain of death no more men should go thither, and banished all that were gone thither to dwell, fearing (as they said) that in success of time, they would so mu tiply as they might one day supplant them, and overthrow their own estate. This narration of Aristotle, hath no reference unto our new found countries. This servant I had, was a simple and rough-hewen fellow: a condition fit to yield a true testimony. For, subtle people may indeed mark more curiously, and observe things more exactly, but they amplify and gloze them: and the better to persuade, and make their interpretations of more validity, they cannot choose but somewhat alter the story. They never represent things truly, but fashion and mask them according to the visage they saw them in; and to purchase credit to their judgement, and draw you on to believe them, they commonly adorn, enlarge, yea, and Hyperbolise the matter. Wherein is required either a most sincere Reporter, or a man so simple, that he may have no invention to build upon, and to give a true likelihood unto false devises, and be not wedded to his own will. Such a one was my man; who besides his own report, hath many times showed me diverse Mariners, and Merchants, whom he had known in that vovage. So am I pleased with his information, that I never inquire what Cosmographers say of it. We had need of Topographers to make us particular narrations of the places they have been in. For some of them, if they have the advantage of us, that they have seen Palestine, will challenge a privilege, to tell us news of all the world beside. I would have every man write what he knows, and no more: not only in that, but in all other subjects. For one may have particular knowledge of the nature of one river, and experience of the quality of one fountain, that in other things knows no more than another man: who nevertheless to publish this little scantling, will undertake to write of all the Physics. From which vice proceed diverse great inconveniences. Now (to return to my purpose) I find (as far as I have been informed) there is nothing in that nation, that is either barbarous or savage, unless men call that barbarism which is not common to them. As indeed, we have no other aim of truth and reason, than the example and Idea of the opinions and customs of the country we live in. There is ever perfect religion, perfect policy, perfect and complete use of all things. They are even savage, as we call those fruits wild, which nature of herself, and of her ordinary progress hath produced: where as indeed, they are those which ourselves have altered by our artificial divises, and diverted from their common order, we should rather term savage. In those are the true and most profitable virtues, and natural properties most lively and vigorous, which in these we have bastardized, applying them to the pleasure of our corrupted taste. And if notwithstanding, in diverse fruits of those countries that were never tilled, we shall find, that in respect of ours they are most excellent, and as delicate unto our taste; there is no reason, art should gain the point of honour of our great and puissant mother Nature. We have so much by our inventions, surcharged the beauties and riches of her works, that we have altogether over-choaked her: yet where ever her purity shineth, she makes our vain, and frivolous enterprises wonderfully ashamed. Et veniunt hederae sponte sua melius, Propert. l. 1. cl. 2. 10. Surgit & in solis formosior arbutus antris, Et volucres nulla duleius arte canunt. Ivies spring better of their own accord, Unhaunted plots much fairer trees afford, Birds by no art much sweeter notes record. All our endevous or wit, cannot so much as reach to represent the nest of the least birdlet, it's contexture, beauty, profit and use, no nor the web of a seely spider. All things (saith Plato) are produced, either by nature, by fortune, or by art. The greatest and fairest by one or other of the two first, the least and imperfect by the last. Those nations seem therefore so barbarous unto me, because they have received very little fashion from human wit, and are yet near their original naturality. The laws of nature do yet command them, which are but little bastardized by ours, And that with such purity, as I am sometimes grieved the knowledge of it came no sooner to light, at what time there were men, that better than we could have judged of it. I am sorry, Lycurgus & Plato had it not▪ for me seemeth that what in those nations we see by experience, doth not only exceed all the pictures wherewith licentious Poesy hath proudly embellished the golden age, & all her acquaint inventions to feign a happy condition of man, but also the conception & desire of Philosophy. They could not imagine a genuitie so pure and simple, as we s●e ●by experience; nor ever believe our society might be maintained with so little art and human combination. It is a nation, would I answer Plato, that hath no kind of traffic, no knowledge of Letters, no intelligence of numbers, no name of magistrate, nor of politic superiority; no use of service, of riches or of poverty; no contracts, no successions, no partitions, no occupation but idle; no respect of kindred, but common, no apparel but natural, no manuring of lands, no use of wine, corn, or mettle. The very words that import lying, falsehood, treason, dissimulations, covetousness, envy, detraction, and pardon, were never heard of amongst them. How dissonant would he find his imaginary common-weath from this perfection? Hos natura modes primùm dedit. Nature at first uprise, These manners did devise. Furthermore, they live in a country of so exceeding pleasant and temperate situation, that as my testimonies have told me, it is very rare to see a sick body amongst them; and they have further assured me, they never saw any man there, either shaking with the palsy, toothless, with eyes dropping, or crooked and stooping through age. They are seated alongst the sea-coast, encompassed toward the land with huge and steepy mountains, having between both, a hundred leagues or thereabout of open and champain ground. They have great abundance of fish and flesh, that have no resemblance at all with ours, and eat them without any sauces, or skill of Cookery, but plain boiled or broiled. The first man that brought a horse thither, although he had in many other voyages conversed with them, bred so great a horror in the land, that before they could take notice of him, they slew him with arrows. Their buildings are very long, and able to contain two or three hundred souls, covered with barks of great trees, fastened in the ground at one end, interlaced and joined close together by the tops, after the manner of some of our Granges; the covering whereof hangs down to the ground, and steadeth them as a flank. They have a kind of wood so hard, that ryving and cleaving the same, they make blades, swords, and grid-irons to broil their meat with. Their beds are of a kind of cotton cloth, fastened to the house-roofe, as our ship-cabbanes: everic one hath his several couch; for the women lie from their husbands. They rise with the Sun, and feed for all day, as soon as they are up: and make no more meals after that. They drink not at meat, as Suidas reporteth of some other people of the East, which drank after meals, but drink many times a day, and are much given to pledge carouses. Their drink is made of a certain root, and of the colour of our Claret wines, which lasteth but two or three days; they drink it warm: It hath somewhat sharp taste, wholesome for the stomach, nothing heady, but laxative for such as are not used unto it, yet very pleasing to such as are accustomed unto it. Instead of bread, they use a certain white composition, like unto Corianders confected. I have eaten some, the taste whereof is somewhat sweet and wallowish. They spend the whole day in dancing. Their young men go a hunting after wild beasts with bows and arrows. Their women busy themselves therewhil'st with warming of their drink, which is their chiefest office. Some of their old men, in the morning before they go to eating, preach in common to all the household, walking from one end of the house to the other, repeating one selfsame sentence many times, till he have ended his turn● (for their buildings are a hundred paces in length) he commends but two things unto his auditory, First, valour against their enemies, than lovingness unto their wives. They never miss (for their restraint) to put men in mind of this duty, that it is their wives which keep their drink lukewarm, and well-seasoned. The form of their beds, cords, sword, blades, and wooden bracelets, wherewith they cover their hand-wrists when they fight, and great Canes open at one end, by the sound of which they keep time and cadence in their dancing, are in many places to be seen, and namely in mine own house. They are shaved allover, much more close and cleaner than we are, with no other Razors than of wood or stone. They believe their souls to be eternal, and those that have deserved well of their Gods, to be placed in that part of heaven where the Sun riseth, and the cursed toward the West in opposition. They have certain Prophets and Priests, which commonly abide in the mountains, & very seldom show themselves unto the people; but when they come down, there is a great feast prepared, and a solemn assembly of many towneships together (each Grange as I have described maketh a village, and they are about a French league one from another.) The Prophet speaks to the people in public, exhorting them to embrace virtue, and follow their duty. All their moral discipline containeth but these two articles; first an undismaied resolution to war, than an inviolable affection to their wives. He doth also Prognosticate of things to come, and what success they shall hope for in their enterprises: he either persuadeth or dissuadeth them from war; but if he chance to miss of his divination, and that it succeed otherwise than he foretold them, if he be taken, he is hewn in a thousand pieces, and condemned for a false Prophet. And therefore he that hath once misreckoned himself is never seen again. Divination is the gift of God; the abusing whereof should be a punishable imposture. When the Divines amongst the Scythians had foretold an untruth, they were couched along upon hurdles full of heath or brushwood, drawn by oxen, and so manacled hand and foot, burned to death. Those which manage matters subject to the conduct of man's sufficiency, are excusable, although they show the utmost of their skill. But those that gull and conicatch us with the assurance of an extraordinary faculty, & which is beyond our knowledge, aught to be double punished; first because they perform not the effect of their promise, then for the rashness of their imposture and unadvisedness of their fraud. They war against the nations, that lie beyond their mountains, to which they go naked, having no other weapons than bows, or wooden swords, sharp at one end, as our broaches are. It is an admirable thing to see the constant resolutuion of their combats, which never end but by effusion of blood & murder: for they know not what fear or routs are. Every Victor brings home the head of the enemy he hath slain as a Trophy of his victory, and fasteneth the same at the entrance of his dwelling place. After they have long time used and entreated their prisoners well, and with all commodities they can devise, he that is the Master of them; summoning a great assembly of his acquaintance; tieth a cord to one of the prisoners arms, by the end whereof he holds him fast, with some distance from him, for fear he might offend him, and giveth the other arm, bound in like manner, to the dearest friend he hath, and both in the presence of all the assembly kill him with sword: which done, they roast, and then ear him in common, and send some slices of him to such of their friends as are absent. It is not as some imagine, to nourish themselves with it, (as anciently the Scythians want to do,) but to represent an extreme, and inexpiable revenge. Which we prove thus; some of them perceiving the Portugals, who had confederated themselves with their adversaries, to v●e another kind of death, when they took them prisoners; which was, to bury them up to the middle, and against the upper part of the body to shoot arrows, and then being almost dead, to hang them up; they supposed, that these people of the other world (as they who had sowed the knowledge of many vices amongst their neighbours, and were much more cunning in all kinds of evils and mischief than they) undertook not this manner of revenge without cause, and that consequently it was more smartfull, and cruel than theirs, and thereupon began to leave their old fashion to follow this. I am not sorry we note the barbarous horror of such an action, but grieved, that prying so narrowly into their faults we are so blinded in ours. I think there is more barbarism in eating men alive, then to feed upon them being dead; to mangle by tortures and torments a body full of lively sense, to roast him in pieces, to make dogs and swine to gnaw and tear him in mammocks (as we have not only read, but seen very lately, yea and in our own memory, not amongst ancient enemies, but our neighbours and fellow-citizens; and which is worse, under pretence of piety and religion) then to roast and eat him after he is dead. Chrysippus and Zeno, arch pillars of the Stoic sect, have supposed that it was no hurt at all, in time of need, and to what end soever, to make use of our carrion bodies, and to seed upon them, as did our forefathers, who being besieged by Caesar in the City of Alexia, resolved to sustain the famine of the siege, with the bodies of old men, women, & other persons unserviceable and unfit to fight. Vascones (fama est) alimentis talibus usi ●ure sat. 15 93 Produxere animas. Gascoynes (as same reports) Lived with meats of such sorts. And Physicians fear not, in all kinds of compositions availefull to our health, to make use of it, be it for outward or inward applications: But there was never any opinion found so unnatural and immodest, that would excuse treason, treachery, disloyalty, tyranny, cruelty, and such like, which are our ordinary faults. We may then well call them barbarous, in regard of reasons rules, but not in respect of v●●● at exceed them in all kind of barbarism. Their wars are noble and generous, and have as much excuse and beauty, as this human infirmity may admit: they aim at nought so much, and have no other foundation amongst them, but the mere jealousy of virtue. They contend not for the gaining of new lands; for to this day they yet enjoy that natural ubertie and fruitesulnesse, which without labouring toil, doth in such plenteous abundance furnish them with all necessary things, that they need not enlarge their limits. They are yet in that happy estate, as they desire no more, than what their natural necessities direct them: whatsoever is beyond it, is to them fuperfluous. Those that are much about one age, do generally enter-call one another brethren, and such as are younger, they call children, and the aged are esteemed as fathers to all the rest. These leave this full possession of goods in common, and without division to their heirs, without other claim or title, but that which nature doth plainly impart unto all creatures, even as she brings them into the world. If their neighbour's chance to come over the mountains to assail or invade them, and that they get the victory over them, the Victor's conquest is glory, and the advantage to be and remain superior in valour and virtue: else have they nothing to do with the goods and spoils of the vanquished, and so return into their country, where they neither want any necessary thing, nor lack this great port on, to know how to enjoy their condition happily, and are contented with what nature affordeth them. So do these when their turn cometh. They require no other ransom of their prisoners, but an acknowledgement and confession that they are vanquished. And in a whole age, a man shall not find one, that doth not rather embrace death, then either by word or countenance remissly to yield one jot of an invincible courage. There is none seen that would not rather be slain and devoured, then sue for life, or show any fear: They use their prisoners with all liberty, that they may so much the more hold their lives dear and precious, and commonly entertain them with threats of future death, with the torments they shall endure, with the preparations intended for that purpose, with mangling and slicing of their members, and with the feast that shall be kept at their charge. All which is done, to wrest some remiss, and exact some faint-yeelding speech of submission from them, or to possess them with a desire to escape or run away; that so they may have the advantage to have daunted and made them afraid, and to have forced their constancy. For certainly true victory consisteth in that only point. — Victoria nulla est 〈…〉 quam quae confessos animo quoque subingat hosts. No conquest such, as to suppress Foes hearts, the conquest to confess. The Hungarians, a most warlike nation, were whilom wont to pursue their prey no longer than they had forced their enemy to yield unto their mercy. For, having wrested this confession from-him, they set him at liberty without offence or ransom, except it were to make him swear, never after to bear arms against them. We get many advantages of our enemies, that are but borrowed and not ours: It is the quality of porterly-rascall, and not of virtue, to have stronger arms, and sturdier legs: Disposition is a dead and corporal quality. It is a trick of fortune to make our enemy stoop, and to blear his eyes with the Sunnes-light: It is a prank of skill and knowledge to be cunning in the art of fencing, and which may happen unto a base and worthless man. The reputation and worth of a man consisteth in his heart and will: therein consists true honour: Constancy is valour, not of arms and legs, but of mind and courage? it consisteth not in the spirit and courage of our horse, nor of our arms, but in ours. He that obstinately faileth in his courage, Si succiderit, de genu pugnat, If he slip or fall, he fights upon his knee. He that in danger of imminent death, is no whit daunted in his assuredness; he that in yielding up his ghost be holding his enemy with a scornful and fierce look, he is vanquished, not by us, but by fortune: he is slain, but not conquered. The most valiant, are often the most unfortunate. So are there triumphant losses in envy of victories. Not those foure-sister-victories, the fairest that ever the Sun beheld with his allseeing eye, of Salamis, of Plateae, of Micale, and of Sicilia, durst ever dare to oppose all their glory together, to the glory of the King L●onidas his discomsiture and of his men, at the passage of Thermopylae: what man did ever run with so glorious an envy, or more ambitious desire to the goal of a combat, than Captain Ischolas to an evident loss and overthrow? who so ingeniously or more politicly did ever assure himself of his welfare, than he of his ruin? He was appointed to defend a certain passage of Peloponesus against the Arcadians, which finding himself altogether unable to perform, seeing the nature of the place, and inequality of the forces, and resolving, that whatsoever should present itself unto his enemic, must necessarily be utterly defeated: On the other side, deeming it unworthy both his virtue and magnanimity, and the Lacedaemonian name, to ●a●le or faint in his charge, between these two extremities he resolved upon a mean and indifferent course, which was this. The yoongost and best disposed of his troop, he reserved for the service and defence of their country, to which he sent them back; and with those whose loss was least, and who might best be spared, he determined to maintain that passage, and by their death to force the enemy, to purchase the entrance of it as dear as possibly he could; as indeed it followed. For being suddenly environed round by the Arcadians: After a great slaughter made of them, both himself and all his were put to the sword. Is any Trophy assigned for conquerors, that is not more duly due unto these conquered? A true conquest respecteth rather an undaunted resolution: and honourable end, than a fair escape, and the honour of virtue doth more consist in combating then in beating. But to return to our history, these prisoners, howsoever they are dealt withal, are so far from yielding, that chose during two or three months that they are kept, they ever carry a cheerful countenace, and urge their keepers to hasten their trial, they outrageously defic, and injure them. They upbraid them with their cowardliness, and with the number of battles, they have lost again theirs. I have a song made by a prisoner, wherein is this clause, Let them boldly come altogether, and flock in multitudes, to feed on him; for with him they shall feed upon their fathers, and grandfathers, that heeretosore have served his body for food and nourishment: These muscles, (saith he) this flesh, and these veins, are your own; fond men as you are, know you not that the substance of your forefathers limbs is yet tied unto ours? Taste them well, for in them shall you find the relish of your own flesh: An invention, that hath no show of barbarism, Those that paint them dying, and that represent this action, when they are put to execution, delineate the prisoners spitting in their executioners faces, and making mows at them. Verily, so long as breath is in their body, they never cease to brave and defy them, both in speech and countenance. Surely, in respect of us these are very savage men: for either they must be so in good sooth, or we must be so indeed: There is a wondrous distance between their form and ours. Their men have many wives, and by how much more they are reputed valiant, so much the greater is their number. The manner and beauty in their marriages is wondrous strange and remarkable: For, the same jealousy our wives have to keep us from the love and affection of other women, the same have theirs to procure it. Being more careful for their husband's honour and content, then of any thing else: They endeavour and apply all their industry, to have as many rivals as possibly they can, forasmuch as it is a testimony of their husband's virtue. Our women would count it a wonder, but it is not so: It is virtue properly Matrimonial; but of the highest kind. And in the Bible, Lea, Rachel, Sara, and Jacob's wives, brought their fairest maiden servants unto their husband's beds. And Livia seconded the lustful appetites of Augustus to her great prejudice. And Stratonica the wife of king Dei●tarus did not only bring a most beauteous chambermaid, that served her, to her husband's bed, but very carefully brought-up the children he begot on her, and by all possible means aided and furthered them to succeed in their father's royalty. And lest a man should think, that all this is done by a simple, and servile, or awful duty unto their custom, and by the impression of their ancient customs authority, without discourse or judgement, and because they are so blockish, and dull-spirited, that they can take no other resolution, it is not amiss, we allege some evidence of their sufficiency. Besides what I have said of one of their warlike songs, I have another amorous canzonet, which beginneth in this sense: Adder stay, stay good adder, that my sister may by the pattern of thy particoloured coat draw the fashion and work of a rich lace, for me to give unto my love; so may thy beauty, thy nimbleness or disposition be ever preferred before all other serpents. The first couplet is the burden of the song. I am so conversant with Poesy, that I amy judge, this invention hath no barbarism at all in it, but is altogether Anacreontike. Their language is a kind of pleasant speech, and ●ath a pleasing sound, and some affinity with the Greek terminations. Three of that nation, ignorant how dear the knowledge of our corruptions will one day cost their repose, security, and happiness, and how their ruin shall proceed from this commerce, which I imagine is already well advanced, (miserable as they are to have suffered themselves to be so cozened by a desire of newfangled novelties, and to have quit the calmness of their climate, to come and see ours) were at Roan in the time of our late King Charles the ninth, who talked with them a great while. They were showed our fashions, our pomp, and the form of a fair City; afterward some demanded their advice, and would needs know of them what things of note and admirable they had observed amongst us: they answered three things, the last of which I have forgotten, and am very sorry for it, the other two I yet remember. They said, First, they found it very strange, that so many tall men with long beards, strong and well armed, as it were about the King's persen (it is very likely they ●ent the Swissers of his guard) would submit themselves to obey a beardless child, and that we did not rather obuse one amongst them to command the rest. Secondly (they have a manner of phrase whereby they call men but a moiety one of another.) They had perceived, there were men amongst us f●ll gorged with all sorts of commodities, and others which hungerstarved, and bare with need and poverty, begged at their gates: and found it strange, these moyties so needy could endure such an injustice, and that they took not the others by the throat, or set fire on their houses. I talked a good while with one of them, but I had so bad an interpreter, and who did so ill apprehend my meaning, and who through his foolishness was so troubled to conceive my imaginations, that I could draw no great matter from him. Touching that point, wherein I demanded of him, what good he received by the superiority he had amongst his countrymen (for he was a Captain and our Mariners called him King) he told me, it was to march foremost in any charge of war: further, I asked him, how many men did follow him, he showed me a distance of place, to signify they were as many as might be contained in so much ground, which I guessed to be about 4. or 5. thousand men: moreover I demanded, if when wars were ended, all his authority expired; he answered, that he had only this left him, which was, that when he went on progress, and visited the villages depending of him, the inhabitants prepared paths and highways athwart the hedges of their woods, for him to pass through at ease. All that is not very ill; but what of that? They wear no kind of breeches nor hosen. The one and thirtieth Chapter. That a man ought soberly to meddle with judging of divine laws. THings unknown are the true scope of imposture, and subject of Legerdemain: forasmuch as strangeness itself doth first give credit unto matters, and not being subject to our ordinary discourses, they deprive us of means to withstand them. To this purpose, said Plato▪ it is an easy matter to please, speaking of the nature of the Gods, then of men's: For the Auditor's ignorance lends a fair and large career, and free liberty, to the handling of secret hidden matters. Whence it followeth, that nothing is so firmly believed, as that which a man knoweth least; nor are there people more assured in their reports, than such as tell us fables, as Al●humists, Prognosticators, Fortune-tellers, Palmisters, Physicians, idgenus omne, and such like. To which, if I durst, I would join a rabble of men; that are ordinary interpreters and controllers of Gods secret designs, presuming to find out the causes of every accident, and to pry into the secrets of Gods divine will, the incomprehensible motives of his works. And howbeit, the continual variety and discordance of events drive them from one corner to another, and from East to West, they will not leave to follow their bowl, and with one small pen●ill draw both white and black. There is this commendable observance in a certain Indian nation, who if they chance to be discomfited in any skirmish or battle, they publicly beg pardon of the Sun, who is their God, as for an unjust action, referring their good or ill fortune to divine reason, submitting their judgement and discourses unto it. It sufficeth a Christian to believe, that all things come from God, to receive them from his divine, and inscrutable wisdom with thanksgiving, and in what manner soever they are sent him, to take them in good part. But I utterly disallow a common custom amongst us, which is to ground and establish our religion upon the prosperity of our enterprises. Our belief hath other sufficient foundations, and need not be authorized by events. For the people accustomed to these plausible arguments, & agreeing with his taste, when events sort contrary and disadvantageous to their expectation, they are in hazard to waver in their faith: As in the civil wars, wherein we are now for religions sake, those which got the advantage, at the conflict of Roch●labe●lle, making great joy and bonfires for that accident, and using that fortune, as an assured approbation of their faction: when afterward they come to excuse their disaster of Mort-contour and jarnac, which are scourges and fatherly chastisements: if they have not a people wholly at their mercy, they will easily make him perceive, what it is to take two kinds of corn out of one sa●ke: & from one and the same mouth to blow both hot and cold. It were better to entertain it with the true foundations of verity. It was a notable Sea-battle, which was lately gained against the Turks, under the conduct of Don john of Austria. But it hath pleased God to make us at other times both see and feel other such, to our no small loss and detriment. To conclude, it is no easy matter to reduce divine things unto our balance, so they suffer no impeachment: And he that would yield a reason, why Arrius and Leo his Pope, chief Principals, and main supporters of this here●ie, died both at several times, of so semblable and so strange deaths (for being forced through a violent bellie-ach to go from their disputations to their close-stool, both suddenly yielded up their ghosts on them) & exaggerate that divine vengeance by the circumstance of the place, might also add the death of Hel●ogabalus unto it, who likewise was slain upon a privy. But what? Ireneus is found to be engaged in like fortune: God's intent being to teach us, that the good have some thing else to hope for, and the wicked somewhat else to fear, than the good or bad fortune of this world: He manageth and applieth them according to his secret disposition: and depriveth us of the means, thereby foolishly to make our profit. And those, that according to human reason will thereby prevail, do but mock themselves. They never give one touch of it, that they receive not two for it. S. Augustine giveth a notable trial of it upon his adversaries. It is a conflict, no more decided by the arms of memory, than by the weapons of reason. A man should be satisfied with the light, which it pleaseth the Sun to communicate unto us by virtue of his beams; and he that shall lift up his eyes to take a greater within his body, let him not think it strange, if for a reward of his overweening and arrogancy he looseth his sight. Quis hominum potest scire consilium De●● Wisd. 9 13. aut quis poterit cogitare, quid velit dominus? Who amongst men can know God's counsel, or who can think what God will do? The two and thirtieth Chapter. To avoid voluptuousness in regard of life. I Have noted the greatest part of ancient opinions to agree in this: That when our life affords more evil than good, it is then time to die: and to preserve our life to our torment and incommodity, is to spur and shock the very rules of nature: as say the old rules. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. G●om. Graec. 0. Or live without distress, Or die with happiness. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Ib. 'tis good for them to die, Whom life bring's infamy. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Soph. S●●b. ●er. 118. 'tis better not to live, Then whetchedly not thrive. But to drive off the contempt of death to such a degree, as to employ it to distract, and remoov● himself from honours, riches, greatness, and other goods and favours, which we call the goods of fortune: as if reason had not enough to do, to persuade us to forego and leave them, without adding this new surcharge unto it, I had neither seen the same commanded nor practised until such time as one place of Seneca came to my hands, wherein counseling Lucilius (a man mighty and in great authority about the Emperor) to change this voluptuous and pompous life, and to withdraw himself from this ambition of the world, to some solitary, quiet and philosophical life: about which Lucilius alleged some difficulties: My advice is (saith he) that either thou leave and quit that life, or thy life altogether: But I persuade thee to follow the gentler way, and rather to untie than break what thou hast so ill ●●it: always provided thou break it, if thou canst not otherwise untie the same. There is no man so base minded, that loveth not rather to fall once, then ever to remain in fear of falling. I should have deemed this counsel agreeing with the Stoics ●udenes: But it is more strange it should be borrowed of Epicurus, who to that purpose writeth this consonant unto Idomeneus. Yet think I to have noted some such like thing amongst our own people, but with christian moderation. Saint Hilary Bishop of Poitiers, a famous enemy of the Arrian heresy, being in Syria, was advertised that Abra his only daughter whom he had left athome with her mother, was by the greatest Lords of the country solicited and sued unto for marriage, as a damosel very well brought up, fair, rich, and in the prime of her age: he writ unto her (as we see) that she should remove her affections, from all the pleasures and advantages might be presented her: for, in his voyage he had found a greater and worthier match or husband of far higher power and magnificence, who should present and endow her with robes and jewels of unvaluable price. His purpose was to make her lose the appetite and use of worldly pleasures, and wholly to wed her unto God. To which, deeming his daughter's death, the shortest and most assured way, he never ceased by vows, prayers, and orisons, humbly to beseech God to take her out of this world, and to call her to his mercy, as it came to pass; for ●●ee deceased soon after his return: whereof he showed manifest tokens of singular gladness. This man seemeth to endear himself above others, in that at first ●ight he addresseth himself to this mean, which they never embrace but subsidiarily, and sithence it is towards his only daughter. But I will omit the success of this story, although it be not to my purpose. Saint Hilaries wife, having understood by him, how her daughter's death succeeded with his intent and will, and how much more happy it was for her to be dislodged from out this world, than still to abide therein, conceived so lively an apprehension of the eternal and heavenly blessedness, that with importunate instancy she solicited her husband, to do as much for her. And God, at their earnest entreaty, and joynt-common prayers, having soon after taken her unto himself: it was a death embraced with singular and mutual contentment to both. The three and thirtieth Chapter. That fortune is oftentimes met withal in pursuit of reason. THe inconstancy of Fortune's divers wavering, is the cause she should present us with all sorts of visages. Is there any action of justice more manifest than this? Caesar Bor●●● Duke of Val●ntino●s, having resolved to poison Adrian Cardinal of Cornetto, with whom Pope Alexander the ●●xt, his father and he were to sup that night in Vatican, sent certain bottles of empoisoned wine before, and gave his Butler great charge to have a special care of it. The Pope coming thither before his son, and calling for some drink; the butler supposing the Wine had been so carefully commended unto him for the goodness of it, immediately presented some unto the Pope, who whilst he was drinking, his son came in and never imagining his bottles had been touched, took the cup and pledged his father, so that the Pope died presently; and the son, after he had long time been tormented with sickness, recovered to another worse fortune. It sometimes seemeth, that when we least think on her, she is pleased to sport with us. The Lord of Estree, the guidon to the Lord of Vand●sme, and the Lord of Liques, Lieutenant to the Duke of Ascot, both servants to the Lord of Founguesell●s sister, albeit of contrary factions (as it happeneth among neighbouring bordurers) the Lord of Liques got her to wife: But even upon his wedding day, and which is worse, before his going to bed, the bridegroom desiring to break a staff in favour of his new Bride and Mistress, went out to skirmish near to Saint Omer, where the Lord of Estree being the stronger took him prisoner, and to endear his advantage, the Lady herself was feign, Coni●gis ant●●●actan●vi dimittere collum, Catul. ●l●. 4. 81 quam veniens una atque altera rursus hyems Noctibus in longis avidum saturasset amorem, Her new fears neck forced was she to forego, Ere winters one and two returning slow, In long nights had fulfilled Her love so eager wiled. in courtesy, to sue unto him for the delivery of his prisoner, which he granted; the French Nobility never refusing Ladies any kindness. Seemeth she not to be a right artist? Constantine the son of H●len ●ounded the Empire of Constantinople, and so, many ages after, Constantin● the son of H●len ended the same. She is sometimes pleased to envy our miracles: we hold an opinion, that King Clovis besieging A●goulesme, the walls by a divine favour ●e●l of themselves. And Bouchet borroweth of some author, that King Robert beleagring a City, and having secretly stolen away from the siege to Orleans, there to solemnize the feasts of Saint Aignan, as he was in his earnest devotion, upon a certain passage of the Mass, the walls of the town besieged, without any battery, fell flat to the ground. She did altogether contrary in our wars of Milan: For, Captain Rens●, beleagring the City of Eronna for us, and having caused a forcible mine to be wrought under a great curtain of the walls, by force whereof, it being violently flown up from out the ground, did notwithstanding, whole and unbroken, fall so right into his foundation again, that the besieged found no inconvenience at all by it. She sometimes playeth the Physician. jason Therius being utterly forsaken of all Physicians, by reason of an imposthume he had'm his breast, and desirous to be rid of it, though it were by death, as one of the forlorn hope, rushed into a battle amongst the thickest throng of his enemies, where he was so rightly wounded across the body, that his imposthume broke, and he was cured. Did she not exceed the Painter Protogenes in the skill of his trade? who having perfected the image of a weary and panting dog, and in all parts overtired, to his content, but being unable, as he desired, hvely to represent the drivel or slaver of his mouth vexed against his own work, took his sponge, and moist as it was with diverse colours, thr●●●t at the picture, with purpose to blot and deface all he had done: fortune did so fitly and rightly carry the same toward the dog's chaps, that there it perfectly finished, what his art could never attain unto. Doth she not sometimes address and correct our counsels? Isahell Queen of England, being to repass from Zealand into her kingdom with an army, in favour of her son against her husband, had utterly been cast away, had she come unto the Port intended, being there expected by her enemies: But fortune against her will, brought her to another place, where she safely landed. And that ancient fellow, who hurling a stone at a dog, missed him, and there withal hit and slew his stepdame, had she not reason to pronounce this verse, T 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Chance of itself, than we, Doth better say and see? Fortune hath better advice than we. Icetes had practised and suborned two soldiers to kill ●smole●n, then residing at Adra●● in S●e●ly. They appointed a time to do, as he should be assisting at some sacrifice; and scattering then selves amongst the multitude, as they were winking one upon another, to show how they had a very ●t opportunity to do the deed: Lo here a third man, that with a huge blow of a sword, striketh one of them over the head and fells him dead to the ground and so runs away. His fellow suppoting himself dis●●vered, and undone, runs to the altar, suing for sanctuary, with promise to confess the truth; Even as he was declaring the conspiracy, behold the third man, who had likewise been taken, whom as a murderer the people tugged and haled through the throng toward napoleon and the chiefest of the assembly, where he humbly calleth for mercy, alleging that he had justly murdered the murderer of his father, whom his good chance was to ●●de there, averring by good witnesses, before them all, that in the City of the Leontines, his father had been proditoriously slain by him, on whom he had now revenged himself. In meed whereof, because he had been so fortunate (in seeking to right his father's untimely death) to save the common-father of the Sicilians fro● so imminent a danger, he had ten Attic mines awarded him. This fortune in her directions exceedeth all the rules of human wisdom. But to conclude, is not an express application of her favour, goodness, and singular piety manifestly discovered in this action? Ignat●us the Father and the Son, both banished by proscription by the Triumvirs of Rome resolved on this generous act, to yield their lives one into another's hands, and thereby frustrate the Tyrant's cruelty. They furiously with their keen rapiers drawn, ran one against another: Fortune so directed their points, that each received his mortal stroke; adding to the honour of seld-seen an amity, that they had just so much strength left them, to draw their armed and bloody hands from out their gored wounds, in that plight, so fast to embrace, and so hard to clasp one another, that the hangmen were forced, at one stroke, and together, to cut off both their heads; leaving their bodies for ever tied in so honourable a knot, and their wounds so joined, that they lovingly drew and sucked each others blood, breath, and life. The four and thirtieth Chapter. Of a defect in our policies. MY whilome-father, a man who had no help but from experience, and his own nature, yet of an unspotted judgement, hath heretofore told me, that he much desired to bring in this custom, which is, that in all cities there should be a certain appointed place, to which, whosoever should have need of any thing, might come and cause his business to be registered by some officer appointed for that purpose: As for example, if one have pearls to sell, he should say, I seek to sell some pearls: and another, I seek to buy some pearls: Such a man would feign have company to travel to Paris; Such a one inquireth for a servant of this or that qualities; Such a one seeketh for a Master; another a workman; Some this; some that; every man as he needed. And it seemeth that this means of enter-warning one another; would b●ing no small co●●oditie unto common commerce & society; For there are ever ●onditions that enter-seeke one another, and because they understand not one another, they leave men in great n●●es●●tie. I understand, to the infamous reproach of our age, that even in our sight, two ●ost excellent men in knowledge, have miserably perished for want of food and other necessaries: L●lius Gregorius Giraldus in Italy, and Sebast●an●● Castalio in Germa●ie: And I verily believe there are many thousands, who had they known or understood their wants, would either have sent for them, and with large stipends entertained them, or would have conveyed them succour, where ever they had been. The world is not so generally corrupted, but I know some, that would earnestly wish, and with hearty affections desire, the goods which their forefathers have left them, might, so long as it shall please fortune they may enjoy them, be employed for the relief of rare, and supply of excellent men's necessity, & such as for any kind of worth and virtue are remarkable; many of which are daily seen to be pursued by ill fortune even to the utmost extremity, and that would take such order for them, as had they not their ease and content, it might only be imputed to their want of reason or lack of discretion. In this Oeconomic or household order my father had this order, which I can commend, but no way follow: which was, that besides the day book of household affairs, wherein are reg●stred at least expenses, payments, gifts, bargains & sales, that require not a Notary's hand to them, which book a receiver had the keeping of: he appointed another journall-booke to one of his servants, who was h●s clerk, wherein he should insert & orderly set down all accidents worthy the noting, & day by day register the memories of the history of ●as house: A thing very pleasant to read, when time began to wear out the remembrance of them, and fit for us to pass the time withal, and to resolve some doubts: when such a work was begun, when ended, what way or course was taken, what accidents happened, how long it continued; all our voyages; where, and how long we were from home; our marriages, who died, and when; the receiving of good or bad tidings, who came, who went, changing or removing of household officers, taking of new, or discharging of old servants, and such like matters. An ancient custom, and which I would have all men use and bring into fashion again in their several homes: and I repent myself, I have so foolishly neglected the same. The five and thirtieth Chapter. Of the use of Apparel. WHatsoever I aim at, I must needs force some of customs contradictions, so carefully hath she barred all our entrances. I was devising in this chil-cold season, whether the fashion of these late discovered Nations to go naked, be a custom forced by the hot temperature of the air, as we say of the Indians and Moors, or whether it be an original manner of mankind. Men of understanding, forasmuch as whatsoever is contained under heaven (as saith the holy Writ) is subject to the same laws, are wont in suchlike considerations, where natural laws are to be distinguished from those invented by man, to have recourse to the general policy of the world, where nothing that is counterfeit can be admitted. Now all things being exactly furnished else-whence with all necessaries to maintain this being, it is not to be imagined that we alone should be produced in a defective and indigent estate, yea, and in such a one, as can not be maintained without foreign help. My opinion is, that even as all plants, trees, living creatures, and whatsoever hath life, is naturally seen furnished with sufficient furniture to defend itself from the injury of all wethers: Proptereáque ferè res omnes, aut corio sunt, Lucr. lib. 4. 932. Aut seta, aut conchis, aut callo, aut cortice tectae. Therefore all things almost we covered mark, With hide, or hair, or shells, or brawn, or bark. Even so were we: But as those who by an artificial light extinguish the brightness of the day, we have quenched our propermeanes, by such as we have borrowed. And we may easily discern, that only custom makes that seem impossible unto us, which is not so: For of those nations that have no knowledge of clothes, some are found situated under the same heaven, and climate, or parallel, that we are-in, and more cold and sharper the●ours. Moreover, the tenderest parts of us are ever bare and naked, as our eyes, face, mouth, nose, and ears; and our countrie-swaines (as our forefathers wont) most of them at this day go bare-breasted down to the navel. Had we been borne needing petticoats and breeches, thereis no doubt, but nature would have armed that which she hath left to the battery of seasons and fury of wethers, with some thicker skin or hide, as she hath done our finger's ends, and the soles of our feet. Why seems this hard to be believed? Between my fashion of apparel, and that of one of my countrie-clownes, I find much more difference between him and me, then between his fashion, and that of a man who is clothed but with his bare skin. How many men (especially in Turkey,) go ever naked for devotions sake? A certain man demanded of one of our loitering rogues, whom in the deep of frosty Winter, he saw wandering up and down with nothing but his shirt about-him, and yet as blithe and lusty as an other that keeps himself muffled and wrapped in warm furs up to the ears; how he could have patience to go so. And have not y●●, good sir,) answered he) your face all bare? Imagine I am all face. The Italians report (as far as I remember) of the Duke of Florence his fool, who when his Lord asked him, how being so ill clad, he could endure the cold, which he hardly was able to do himself; To whom the fool replied; Master, use but my receipt, and put all the clothes you have upon you, as I dye all mine; you shall feel no more cold than I do. King Massinissa, even in his oldest days, were-it never so cold, so frosty, so stormy, or sharp wether, could never be induced, to put some thing on his head, but went always bareheaded. The like is reported of the Emperor S●verus. In the battles that past between the Egyptians, and the Persians, Herodotus saith, that both himself and diverse others took special notice, that of such as lay slain on the ground, the Egyptians skulls were without comparison much harder than the Persians: by reason that these go ever with their heads covered with quoifs and turbans, and those from their infancy ever shaved and bareheaded. And King Agesilaus, even in his decrepit age, was ever wont to wear his clothes both winter and Summer alike. Suetonius affirmeth, that Caesar did ever march for most before his troops, and most commonly bareheaded, and on foot, whether the sun shone, or it reigned. The like is reported of Hannibal, — tum vertice nudo, Syl. Ital. 250. Excipere insanos imbres, coel●que ruinam. Bareheaded than he did endure, heavens ruin and mad-raging shower. A Venetian that hath long dwelled amongst them, and who is but lately returned thence, writeth, that in the Kingdom of Pegu, both men and women, having all other parts clad, go ever barefooted, yea, and on horseback also. And Plato for the better health and preservation of the body doth earnestly persuade, that no man should ever give the feet and the head other cover, than Nature hath allotted them. He whom the Polonians choose for their king next to ours, who may worthily be esteemed one of the greatest princes of our age, doth never wear gloves, nor what wether soever it be, winter or summer, other bonnet a broad than in the warm house. As I cannot endure to go unbuttoned or untrussed, so the husbandmen neighbouring about me, would be, & feel themselves as fettered or hand-bound, with going so. Varro is of opinion, that when we were appointed to stand bareheaded before the gods, or in presence of the Magistrates, it was rather done for our health, and to enure and armeus against injuries of the wether, than in respect of reverence. And since we are speaking of cold, and are Frenchmen, accustomed so strangely array ourselves in particoloured suits (not I', because I seldom wear any other then black or white, in imitation of my father) letus add this one thing more, which Captain Martin du Bellay relateth in the voyage of Luxemburg, where he saith to have seen so hard frosts, that their munition-wines were feign to be cut and broken with hatchets and wedges, and shared unto the Soldiers by weight, which they carried a way in baskets; and Ovid. Nudáque consistunt formam servantia testae Ovid Trist. l 3. el. 10. 23. Vina, nec hausta meri, sed data frusta bibunt. Bare wines, still keeping form of cask, stand fast, Not gulps, but gobbets their wine they taste. The frosts are so hard and sharp in the emboguing of the Meotis fens, that in the very place where Mithridates' Lieutenant had delivered a battle to his enemies, on hard ground, and drie-footed, and there defeated them; the next summer, he there obtained another sea-battle against them. The Romans suffered a great disadvantage in the fight they had with the Carthaginians near unto Placentia, for so much as they went to their charge with their blood congealed, and limbs benumbed, through extreme cold: whereas Hannibal, had caused many fires to be made throughout his camp, to warm his soldiers by, and a quantity of oil to be distributed amongst them, that therewith anointing themselves, they might make their sinews more supple and nimble, and harden their pores against the bitter blasts of cold wind, which then blewe, and nipping piercing of the air. The Grecians retreat from Babylon into their country, is renowned, by reason of the many difficulties and encumbrances they encountered withal, and were to surmount: whereof this was one, that in the mountains of Armenia, being surprised and encircled with so horrible and great quantity of snow, that they lost both the knowledge of the country, and the ways: wherewith they were so straightly beset, that they continued a day and a night without eating or drinking; and most of their horses and cattle died: of their men a great number also deceased; many with the glittering and whiteness of the snow, were strucken blind: divers through the extremity were lamed, and their limbs shrunken up, many stark stiff, and frozen with cold, although their senses were yet whole. Alexander saw a nation, where in winter they bury their fruit-bearing trees under the ground, to defend them from the frost: a thing also used amongst some of our neighbours. Touching the subject of apparel: the King of Mexico was wont to change and shift his clothes four times a day, and never wore them again, employing his leave and cast-sutes for his continual liberalities and rewards; as also neither pot nor dish, nor any implement of his kitchen or table were twice brought before him. The six and thirtieth Chapter. Of Cato the younger. IAm not possessed with this common error, to judge of others according to what I am myself. I am easy to believe things differing from myself. Though I be engaged to one form, I do not tie the world unto it, as every man doth? And I believe and conceive a thousand manners of life, contrary to the common sort: I more easily admit and receive difference then resemblance in us. I discharge as much as a man will, another being of my conditions and principles, and simply consider of it in myself, without relation, framing it upon its own model. Though myself be not continent, yet do I sincerely commend and allow the continency of the Capuchins, and Theatines, and highly praise their course of life. I do by imagination, insinuate myself into their place: and by how much more they be other than myself, so much the more do I love and honour them. I would gladly have every man judged apart, and not be drawn myself in consequence by others examples. My weakness doth no way alter the opinions I should have of the force and vigour of those that deserve it. Sunt, qui nihil suadent, quam quod se imitari posse confidunt. There be Cic. Orat. ad Br. such as advise to nothing, but what they trust themselves can imitate. Crawling on the face of the earth, I cease not to mark, even into the clouds, the inimitable height of some heroic minds. It is much for me to have a formal and prescript judgement, if the effects be not so, and at least to maintain the chief part exempted from corruption. It is something to have a good mind, when my forces fail me. The age we live in (at least our climate) is so dull and leaden, that not only the execution, but the very imagination of virtue is far to seek, and seems to be no other thing than a College supposition, and a gibrish-word. — virtutem verba putant, ut Lucum ligna: Hor. ep. 6. l. 1. 31. Virtue seems words to these, As trees are wood, or woods are tree. Quam vereri d●berent, etiam si percipere non possent. Which yet they should reverence, though they could not reach unto. It is an earring or pendent to hang in a cabinet, or at the tongues end, as well as at an ear for an ornament. There are no more virtuous actions known; those that bear a show of virtue, have no essence of it: for profit, glory, custom, fear, and other like strange causes direct us to produce them. justice, valour, integrity, which we then exercise, may by others consideration, and by the countenance they publicly bear, be termed so: but with the true workman, it is no virtue at all. There is another end proposed; another efficient cause. Virtue alloweth of nothing, but what is done by her, and for her alone. In that great battle at Potidaea which the Grecians under Pausanias gained of Mardonius and the Persians, the victors following their custom, coming to share the glory and prize of the victory between them, ascribed the pre-excellencie of valour in that conflict to the Spartan nation. The Spartans impartial judges of virtue, when they came to decide, to what particular man of their country, the honour to have done best in that day, should of right belong; they found that Aristodemus had most courageously engaged and hazarded himself: Yet gave him not the prize of honour of it, because his virtue had been thereunto incited, by an earnest desire to purge himself from the reproach and infamy, which he had incurred in the action at Thermopyles, and from all daring ambition to die courageously, thereby to warrant his former imputation. Our judgements are yet sick, and follow the depravations of our customs. I see the greatest part of our spirits to affect wit, and to show themselves ingenious, by obscuring and detracting from the glory of famous and general ancient actions, giving them some base and malicious interpretation, fond and enviously charging them with vain causes, and frivolous occasions. A subtle invention no doubt. Let any man present me, with the most excellent and blameless action, and I will oppose it with fifty vicious and bad intentions, all which shall carry a face of likeli-hood. God knows (to him that will extend them) what diversity of images our internal will doth suffer: They do not so maliciously as grossly and rudely endeavour to be ingenious with all their railing and detraction. The same pain a man taketh to detract from these noble & famous names, and the very same liberty, would I as willingly take to lend them my shoulders to extol and magnify them. I would endeavour to charge these rare and choise-figures, selected by the consent of wise men, for the world's example, as much, and as high, as my invention would give me leave with honour, in a plausible interpretation, and favourable circumstance. And a man must think, that the diligent labours of our invention, are far beyond their merit. It is the part of honest minded men to portray virtue, as fair as possible fair may be. A thing which would no whit be misseeming or undecent, if passion should transport us to the favour and pursuit of so sacred forms, what these do contrary, they either do it through malice or knavery, with purpose to reduce and suit their belief to their capacity, where of I lately spoke: or rather as I think, because their sight is not of sufficient power or clearness, nor addressed to conceive or apprehend the farre-shining brightness of virtue in natural and genuine purity: As Plutarch saith, that in his time, some imputed the cause of Cato the youngers' death to the fear he had conceived of Cesar: whereat he hath some reason to be moved: by which a man may judge, how much more he would have been offended with those that have ascribed the same unto ambition. Oh foolish people! He would no doubt have performed a fair action, so generous and so just, rather with ignominy, then for glory. This man was truly a pattern, whom nature chose to show how far human virtue may reach, and man's constancy attaine-unto. But my purpose is not here to treat this rich argument: I will only confront together the sayings of five Latin Poets upon Cato's commendations, and for the interest of Cato, and by incidencie for theirs also. Now ought a gentleman well-bred, in respect of others, find the two former somewhat languishing. The third more vigorous, but suppressed by the extravagancy of force. He will judge there were yet place for one or two degrees of invention, to reach unto the fourth, in consideration of which he will through admiration join hands for the last (yet first in some degree and space, but which space he will swear can by no human spirit be filled-up) he will be much amazed, he will be much amated. Lo here are wonders, we have more Poets than judges and interpreters of poesy. It is an easier matter to frame it; then to knoweit: Being base and humble, it may be judged by the precepts and art of it: But the good & lofty, the supreme & divine, is beyond rules, and above reason. Whosoever discerneth her beauty, with a constant, quicke-seeing, and settled look, he can no more see and comprehend the same than the splendour of a lightning flash. It hath no community with our judgement; but ransacketh and ravisheth the same. The fury which pricks and moves him that can penetrate her, doth also strick and wound a third man, if he heare-it either handled or recited, as the Adamant stone draws, not only a needle, but infuseth some of her faculty in the same to draw others: And it is more apparently seen in theatres, that the sacred inspiration of the Muses, having first stirred up the Poet with a kind of agitation unto choler, unto grief, unto hatred, yea and beyond himself, whether and how soever they please, doth also by the Poet strike & enter into the Actor, and consequently by the Actor, a whole auditory or multitude. It is the ligament of our senses depending one of another. Even from my infancy, Poesy hath had the virtue to transpierce and transport me. But that lively and feeling-moving that is naturally in me, hath diversely been handled, by the diversity of forms, not so much higher or lower (for they were ever the highest in every kind) as different in colour. First a blithe and ingenious fluidity, than a quaint-witie, and lofty conceit. To conclude, a ripe and constant force. Ovid, Lucan, and Virgil, will better declare it. But here our Gallants are in their full career. Sat Cato dum vivit sanè vel Caesare maior. Mart. lib. epig. 32. 5. Let Cato Junior, while he doth live, greater than Caesar be. Saith one. — & invictum devictâ morte Catonem, Manil. astr. lib. 4. 87. Cato unconquered, death being vanquished. Saith another: And the third speaking of the civil wars between Caesar and Pompey. Victrix causa dijs placuit, sed victa Catoni. Lucan. bell. ciu. lib. 1. 127. The cause that overcame with Gods was greater; But the cause overcome pleased Cato better. And the fourth upon Caesar's commendations: Et cuncta terrarum subacta, Hor. lib. 2. ad 1. 23. Praeter atrocem animum Catonis. Of all the earth all parts enthralled, Cato's mind only unappalled. And the hartes-master, after he hath installed the names of the greatest Romans in his picture, endeth thus: — his dantem iura Catonem. Chief justice Cato do decree Vir. Aen. lib. 8. 670. Laws that for righteous souls should be. The seven and thirtieth Chapter. How we weep and laugh at one selfsame thing. WHen we read in Histories, that Antigonus was highly displeased with his son, at Plut. vit. Pyrth f. what time he presented unto him the head of King Pyrrhus his enemy, slain but a little before in fight against him; which he no sooner saw, but he burst forth a weeping. And that Renate Duke of Lorraine, wept for the death of Charles Duke of Burgundy, whom he had eftsoons discomfired, and was as an assistant mourner at his funerals: And that in the battle of Auroy (which the Earl of Montfort had gained against the faction of Charles de Blois, for the Duchy of Brittany) the victorious conqueror met with the body of his enemy deceased, mourned very grievously for him; a man must not suddenly exclaim. Ecosi auvien', che l'animo ciaseuna Sua passion, sotto contrary manto Ricuopre, con la vista hor chiara, hor bruna. So happens it, the mind covers each passion Under a cloak of colours opposite, To sight now clear, now dark, in diverse fashion. When Caesar was presented with Pompey's head, Histories report that he turned his looks aside, as from a ghastly and unpleasing spectacle. There hath been so long a correspondency and society in the managing of public affairs, mutually between them, such a community of fortunes, so many reciprocal offices and bonds of alliance, that a man cannot think his countenance to have been forced, false, and w●ly, as this other supposeth. — tutúmque putavit I am bonus esse socer, lacrymas non sponte cadentes Lucan. lib. 9 1040. Effudit gemitúsque expressit pectore laeto. Now to be kind indeed he did not doubt Father in law, tears, which came hardly out He shed, and groans expressed From inward pleased breast. For certainly, howbeit the greatest number of our actions be but masked and painted over with dissimulation, and that it may sometimes be true, Haredis fletus sub persona risus est. Aul. Gell. noct. Att. li. 17. c. 14. The weeping of an heir, is laughing under a vizard or disguise. Yet must a man consider, by judging of his accidents, how our minds are often agitated by diverse passions; For (as they say) there is a certain assembly of diverse humours in our bodies, whereof she is sovereign mistress, who most ordinarily, according to our complexions doth command us: so in our mind, although it contain several motions that agitate the same, yet must one chiefly be predominant. But it is not with so full an advantage, but for the volubility and suppleness of our mind, the weakest may by occasion reobtain the place again, and when their turn cometh, make a new charge, whence we see, not only children, who simply and naturally follow nature, often to weep and laugh at one selfsame thing; but none of us all can vaunt himself, what wished for, or pleasant voyage soever he undertake, but that taking leave of his family and friends, he shall feel a chilling and panting of the heart, and if he shed not tears, at least he puts his foot in the stirrup with a sad and heavy cheer. And what gentle flame soever doth warm the heart of young virgins, yet are they hardly drawn to leave and forego their mothers, to betake them to their husbands: whatsoever this good fellow say; Est ne novis nuptis odio Venus, únnê parentum Catul. eleg. 2. 15 Frustrantur falsis gaudia lacrymulis, Vbertim thalami quas intra limina fundunt? Non, it a me divi, veragemunt, viverint. Do young Birds hate indeed fresh Venus toys, Or with false tears delude their parents joys, Which in their chambers they power out amain? So help me God, they do not true complain. So is it not strange to mourn for him dead, whom a man by no means would have alive again. When I chide my boy, I do it with the best heart I have: They are true and not feigned imprecations: but that fit passed over, let him have need of me, I will gladly do him all the good I can, and by and by I turn over another leaf. If I chance to call one knave or ass, my purpose is not, for ever to enfeoff him with those nicknames; nor do I think to say, tongue thou liest, if immediately after I call him an honest man. No quality doth embrace us purely and universally. If it were not the countenance of a fool to speak alone, or to himself, there would scarce be day, or hour, wherein somebody should not hear me mutter and grumble to myself, and against myself. A () in the fools teeth, yet do not I think it to be my definition. He that seeth me sometimes to cast a frowning look upon my wife, or sometimes a loving countenance, and thinks, that either of them is but feigned, he is a fool. Nero taking leave of his mother, whom he sent to be drowned, felt notwithstanding the emotion of that motherly farewell, and at one instant was strucken with horror & pity. It is said, that the Sunnes-light, is not of one continued piece, but that it so uncessantly, and without intermission doth cast so thick new rays, one in the neck of another upon us, that we cannot perceive the space between them. Lucr. l 5. 281. Largus enim liquidi fons luminis aethereus sol Inrigat assiduè caelum candore recenti, Suppedit átque novo confestim lumine lumen. heavens Sun the plenteous spring of liquid light Still heaven bedews with splendour fresh and bright, Still light supplies with light of fresher sight. So doth our mind cast her points diversely and imperceptibly. Artabanus surprised Xerxes his nephew, and chid him for the sudden changing of his countenance. He was to consider the unmeasurable greatness of his forces at the passage of Hellespont, for the enterprise of Greece. First he was suddenly assailed by an excessive joy, to see so many thousands of men at his service, and witnessed the same by the alacrity and cheerfulness of his countenance: And immediately at that very moment, his thoughts suggesting, how so many lives were to be consumed, and should come to nothing (at the furthest, within one age) he 'gan to frown his brows, and grew so pensive, that he wept. We have with a resolute and inexorable mind pursued the revenge of an injury, and felt a singular content for the victory; yet upon better advice do we weep: it is not that we weep for: the thing is as it was, there is nothing changed: But that our mind beholds the thing with another eye, and under an other shape it presents itself unto us. For every thing hath diverse faces, sundry byases, and several justres. Alliance, kindred, old acquaintances, and long friendship seize on our imagination, and at that instant, passionate the same according to their quality; but the turn or change of it, is so violent, that it escapes-us Nil adeo fieri celeriratione videtur, L. 3. 183. quam si mens fieri proponit & inchoat ipsa. Ocius ergo animus quam res se perciet ulla, Ante oculos quarum in promptu natura videtur. Nothing in so quick sort seems to be done, As mind set on a thing, and once begun, The mind that swifter stirs before our eyes, Then any thing, whose form we soon comprise. And therefore, intending to continue one body of all this pursuit, we deceive ourselves. When Timoleon weary the murder he hath perpetrated with so mature and generous a determination, he weary not for the liberty restored to his country, nor the tyrant, but he weary for his brother. One part of his duty is acted, let us permit him to play the other. The eight and thirtieth Chapter. Of Solitariness. LEt us leave apart this outworn comparison, between a solitary and an active life: And touching that goodly saying under which ambition and avarice shroud themselves; that we are not borne for our particular, but for the public good: Let us boldly refer ourselves to those that are engaged; and let them beat their conscience, if on the contrary, the states, the charges, and this trash of the world, are not rather sought and sued for to draw a private commodity from the public. The bad and indirect means wherethrough in our age men canvas and toil to attain the same, do manifestly declare the end thereof to be of no great consequence. Let us answer ambition, that herself gives us the taste of solitariness. For what doth she shun so much as company? What seeketh she more than elbow-room? There is no place, but there are means and ways to do well or ill▪ Nevertheless if the saying of Bias be true; That the worst part is the greatest: Or that which Ecclesiastes saith, That of a thousand there is not one good. Rari quip boni numero vix sunt totidem, quot I●●●. sat. 13. 26 The●arum portae, vel divit●s ostia Nili: Good men are rare, so many scarce (I fear) As gates of Thebes, mouths of rich Nilus were. Contagion is very dangerous in a throng. A man must imitate the vicious, or hate them: both are dangerous: for to resemble them is perilous, because they are many, and to hate many is hazardous, because they are dissemblable, and Merchants that travel by sea, have reason to take heed, that those which go in the same ship, be not dissolute, blasphemers, and wicked, judging such company unfortunate. Therefore Bias said pleasantly to those, that together with him passed the danger of a great storm, & called to the Gods, for help: Peace my masters, lest they should hear, that you are here with me. And of a more military example, Albuberque Viecroy in India for Emanuel King of Portugal, in an extreme danger of a sea-tempest, took a young boy upon his shoulders, for this only end, that in the common peril his innocency might be his warrant, and recommending to God's favour, to set him on shore: yet may a wise man live every where contented, yea and alone, in the throng of a Palace: but if he may choose, he will (saith he) Avoid the sight of it. If need require, he will endure the first: but if he may have his choice, he will choose the latter. He thinks he hath not sufficiently rid himself from vices, if he must also contest with other men's faults. Charondas punished those for wicked, that were convicted to have frequented ●ewd companies. There is nothing so dis-sociable and sociable as man the one for his vice the other for his nature, And I think Antisthenes did not satisfy him that upbraided him with his conversation with the wicked, saying, That Physicians live amongst the sick. Who if they stead sicke-mens' healths, they impair their own, by the infection, continual visiting, touching and frequenting of diseases. Now (as I suppose) the end is both one, thereby to live more at leisure, and better at ease. But man doth not always seek the best way to come unto it, who often supposeth to have quit affairs, when he hath but changed them. There is not much less vexation in the government of a private family, than in the managing of an entire state: wheresoever the mind is busied, there it is al. And though domestical occupations be less important, they are as importunate. Moreover, though we have freed ourselves from the court, and from the market, we are not free from the principal torments of our life. — ratio & prudentia curas, Hor. li. 1. epist. 11. 25. Non locus eff●si latè maris arbiter aufert. Reason and wisdom may set cares aside, Not place the Arbiter of seas so wide. Shift we, or change we places never so often, ambition, avarice, irresolution, fear and concupiscences never leave us. Et past equitem sedet atra cura. Ho. l. 3. od. 1. 39 Care looking grim and black, doth sit Behind his back that rides from it. They often follow us, even into immured cloisters, and into schools of Philosophy; nor do hollow rocks, nor wearing of haire-shirts, nor continual fastings rid us from them. hoeret laterilethalis arundo. The shaft that death implied Vir. Aen. l. 4. 73 Sticks by the flying side. It was told Socrates, that one was no whit amended by his travel: I believe it well (said he) for he carried himself with him. Quid terras alio calentes Hor. li. 2. od. 16. 18. Sole mutamus? patriâ quis ex●l Se quoque fugit? Why change we soils warmed with another Sun? Who from whom banished hath himself outrun? If a man do not first discharge both himself and his mind from the burden that presseth her, removing from place to place will stir and press her the more; as in a ship, wares well stowed, and closely piled, take up least room, you do a sick-man more hurt than good, to make him change place, you settle an evil in removing the same; as stakes or poles, the more they are stirred and shaken, the faster they stick, and sink deeper into the ground. Therefore is it not enough, for a man to have sequestered himself from the concourse of people: it is not sufficient to shift place, a man must also severe himself from the popular conditions, that are in us. A man must sequester and recover himself from himself. — rupiiam vincula, dicas, Nam luctata canis nodum arripit, attamen illa Pers. sat. 5. 158 cum fugit, à collo trahitur pars longa catenae. You will say haply I my bonds have quit, Why so the striving dog the knot hath bit; Yet when he flies, much chain doth follow it. We carry our fetters with us: is it not an absolute liberty; we still cast back our looks towards that we have left behind: our mind doth still run on it; our fancy is full of it. — nisi purgatum est pectus, quae praelia nobis ●●cr. lib. 5. 44 Atque pericula tunc ingratis ins●●●andum? Quantae conscindunt hominem cuppe●inis acres Sollicitum curae, quantîque perinde timores? Quidve superbia, spurcitia, ac petulantia, quantas Effi●iu●t clades▪ quid luxus desid●ésque? Unless our breast be purged, what wars must we What per●ls then, though much displeased, see▪ How great fears, how great cares of sharp desire Do careful man distracted, torment, enfire? Uncleanness, wantonness, sloth, r●ot, pride, How great calamities have these implied? Our evil is rooted in our mid: and it cannot scape from itself. In culpa est animus, qui se non effugit unquam, Hor. l. 1. epist. 14▪ 15. The mind is greatest fault must lie, Which from itself can never fly, Therefore must it be reduced and brought into itself: It is the true solitariness, and which may be enjoyed even in the frequency of peopled Cities, and Kings courts: but it is more commodiously enjoyed apart. Now sithence we undertake to live solitary, and without company, let us cause our contentment to depend of ourselves: Let us shake off all bonds that tie us unto others: Gain we that victory over us, that in good earnest we may live solitary, and therein live at our ease. Stilphon having escaped the combustion of his City, wherein he had lost, both wife, and children, and all his goods; Demetrius Polsorcetes seeing him in so great a ruin of his Country, with an unaffrighted countenance, demanded of him, whether he had received any loss; He answered, Not and that (thanks given to God) he had lost nothing of his own. It is that, which Antisthenes the Philosopher said very pleasantly, That man ought to provide himself with munitions, that might float upon the water, and by swimming escape the danger of shipwarcke with him. Verily, a man of understanding hath lost nothing, if he yet have himself. When the City of Nola was overrun by the Barbarians, Paulinus Bishop thereof, having lost all he had there, and being their prisoner, prayed thus unto God: Oh Lord deliver me from feeling of this loss: for thou knowest as yet they have touched nothing that is mine. The riches that made him rich, and the goods which made him good, were yet absolutely whole. Behold what it is to choose treasures well, that may be freed from injury; and to hide them in a place, where no man may enter, and which can not be betrayed but by ourselves. A man that is able, may have wives, children, goods, and chiefly health, but not so tie himself unto them, that his felicity depend on them. We should reserve a storehouse for ourselves, what need soever chance; altogether ours, and wholly free, wherein we may hoard-up, and establish our true liberty, and principal retreat and solitariness, wherein we must go alone to ourselves, take out ordinary entertainment, and so privately, that no acquaintance or communication of any strange thing may therein ●ind place: there to discourse, to mediate and laugh, as, without wife, without children, and goods, without train, or servants; that if by any occasion they be lost, it seem not strange to us to pass it over; we have a mind moving and turning in itself; it may keep itself company; it hath wherewith to offend and defend, wherewith to receive, & wherewith to give. Let us not fear that we shall faint and droop through tedious and mind-tyring idleness in this solitariness. In solis sis tibi turba locis. Be thou, when with thee is not any, As good unto thyself as many. Virtue is contented with itself, without discipline, without words, & without effects. In our accustomed actions, of a thousand there is not one found that regards us: he whom thou seest so furiously, and as it were beside himself, to clamber or crawl up the city walls, or breach, as a point-blank to a whole volie of shot, and another all wounded & skarred, crazed and faint, & welnie hunger-starven, resolved rather to die, then to open his enemy the gate, and give him entrance; dost thou think he is there for himself? No verily, It is peradventure for such a one, whom neither he, nor so many of his fellows ever saw, and who haply takes no care at all for them; but is therewhilst wallowing up to the ears in sensuality, sloth, and all manner of carnal delights. This man whom about midnight, when others take their rest, thou seest come out of his study meagre-looking, with eyes-trilling, phlegmatic, squalid, and spauling, dost thou think, that plodding on his books he doth seek how he shall become an honester man; or more wise, or more content? There is no such matter. He will either die in his pursuit, or teach posterity the measure of Plautus verses, and the true Orthography of a Latin word. Who doth not willingly chop and counterchange his health, his ease, yea, and his life for glory, and for reputation? The most unprofitable, vain, and counterfeit coin, that is in use with us. Our death is not sufficient to make us afraid, let us also charge ourselves with that of our wives, of our children, and of our friends, and people. Our own affairs do not sufficiently trouble and vex us; Let us also drudge, toil, vex, and torment ourselves with our neighbours and friends matters. Vah quemquámne hominem in animum instituere, aut T●r. Ad●l. act. 1 ●●●●. 1. 13. Parare, quod sit charius, quam ipse est sibi? Fie, that a man should cast, that aught, than he Himself of himself more beloved should be. Solitariness me seemeth hath more appearance and reason in those which have given their most active and flourishing age unto the world, in imitation of Thales. We have lived long enough for others, live we the remainder of our life unto ourselves: let us bring home our cogitations and inventions unto ourselves, and unto our ease. It is no easy matter to make a safe retreat: it doth overmuch trouble us with joining other enterprises untoit. Since God gives us leisure to dispose of our dislodging. Letus prepare ourselves untoit, pack we up our baggage. Let us betimes bid our company farewell. Shake we off these violent hold-fasts, which elsewhere engage us, and estrange us from ourselves. These so strong bonds must be untied, and a man may eftsoons love this or that, but wed nothing but himself, That is to say, let the rest be our own: yet not so combined and glued together, that it may not be sundered, without fleaing-us, and therewithal, pull away some piece of our own. The greatest thing of the world, is for a man to know how to be his own. It is high time to shake-off society, since we can bring nothing to it. And he that cannot lend, let him take heed of borrowing. Our forces faile-us: retire we them, and shut them up into ourselves. He that can suppress and confound in himself the offices of so many amities, and of the company, let him do it. In this fall, which makes us, inutile, irksome, and importunate to others; let him take heed he be not importunate, irksome, and unprofitable to himself. Let him flatter, court and cherish himself, and above all, let him govern himself, respecting his reason, and fearing his conscience, so that he may not without shame stumble or trip in their presence. Rarum est enim, ut satis se quisque vereatur. For it is a rare matter, that every man sufficiently should stand in awe and reverence of himself. Socrates saith, That young men ought to be instructed, and men exercised in well doing; and old men withdraw themselves from all civil and military negotiations, living at their own discretion, without obligation to any certain office. There are some complexions, more proper for these precepts of retreat than others. Those which have a tender and demisse apprehension, a squeamish affection, a delicate will, and which can not easily subject or employ itself (of which both by natural condition and propense discourse, I am one) will better apply themselves unto this counsel▪ than active minds, and busy spirits; which embrace all, every where engage, and in all things passionate themselves; that offer, that present, and yield themselves to all occasions. A man must make use of all these accidental commodities, and which are without us, so long as they be pleasing to us; but not make them our principal foundation: It is not so, nor reason, nor nature permitit. Why should we against their laws subject our contentment to the power of others? Moreover, to anticipate the accidents of fortune; for a man to deprive himself of the commodities he hath in possession, as many have done for devotion, and some Philosophers by discourse; to serve themselves, to lie upon the hard ground, to pull out their own eyes, to cast their riches into the Sea, to seek for pain and smart (some by tormenting this life, for the happiness of another; othersome placing themselves on the lowest step, thereby to warrant themselves from a new fall) is the action of an excessive virtue. Let sterner and more vigorous complexions make their lurking glorious and exemplar. — tuta & parvula laudo, Hor lib. 1. epist. 15. 42. cum res deficiunt, satis inter vilia for 'tis: Verùm ubi quid melius contingit & unctius, idem Hos sapere, & solos aio benè vivere, quorum Conspicitur ni●●dis fundata pecunia villis. When riches fail, I praise the safe estate, Though small; base things do not high thoughts abate. But when 't's better, finer with me, I They only live well, and are wise, do cry, Whose coin in fair farms doth well-grounded lie. There is work enough for me to do without going so far. It sufficeth me under fortune's favour, to prepare myself for her disfavour; and being at ease, as ●ar as imagination may attain unto, to represent the evil to come unto myself: Even as we enure ourselves to Tilts and Tourneys, and counterfeit war in time of peace. I esteem not Arcesilaus the Philosopher less reform, because I know him to have used household implements of gold and silver, according as the condition of his fortune gave him leave, I rather value him the more, then if he had not done-it, forsomuch as he both moderately and liberally made use of them. I know unto what limits natural necessity goeth; and I consider the poor almsman begging at my door, to be often more plumb-checkt, in better health and liking then I am: Then do I enter into his estate, and assay to frame and suit my mind unto his byase. And so overrunning other examples, albeit I imagine death, poverty, contempt, and sickness to be at my heels, I easily resolve myself, not to apprehend any fear of that, which one of less worth than myself doth tolerate and undergo with such patience: And I can not believe, that the baseness or shallowness of understanding, can do more than vigour and far-seeing, or that the effects and reason of discretion, can not reach to the effects of custom and vs●. And knowing what slender holdfast these accessory commodities have, I omit not in full jovyssance of them, humbly to beseech God of his mercy (as a sovereign request) to make me contented with myself, and with the goods proceeding from me. I see some gallantly-disposed young men, who notwithstanding their faire-seeming show, have many boxes-full of pills in their coffers at home, to take when the rheum shall assail them; which so much the less they fear, when they think the remedy to be at hand. So must a man do: as also if he feel himself subject to some greater infirmity, to store himself with medicaments that may assuage, supple, and stupefy the part grieved. The occupation a man should choose for such a life, must neither be painful nor tedious, otherwise, in vain should we account to have sought our abiding there, which depends from the particular taste of every man. Mine doth no way accommodate itself to husbandry. Those that love it, must with moderation apply themselves unto it. Conentur sibi res, non se submittere rebus. Endeavour they things to them to submit, Epist. 1. 19 Not them to things (if they have Horace wit) Husbandry is otherwise a servile office, as Sallust termeth it: It hath more excusable parts, as the care of gardening, which Xenophon ascribeth to Cyrus: A mean or mediocrity may be found, between this base and vile carking care, extended and full of toiling labour, which we see in men that wholly plunge themselves therein, and that profound and extreme retchlessness to let all things go at six and seven, which is seen in others. — Democriti pecus edit agellos Epist. 12. 12. Cultáque, dum peregrè est animus sine corpore velox. Cattle destroyed Democritus-his sets, While his mind bodiless vagaries fets. But letus hear the counsel, which Pliny the younger giveth to his friend Cornelius Rusus, touching this point of Solitariness: I persuade thee in this full-gorged and fat retreat, wherein thou art, to remit this base and abject care of husbandry unto thy servants, and give thyself to the study of letters, whence thou mayst gather something, that may altogether be thine own. He meaneth reputation: like unto Cicero's humour, who saith, That he will employ his solitariness and residence from public affairs, to purchase unto himself by his writings an immortal life. — usque adeóne Pers. sa●. 1. 27. Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter? Is it then nothing-worth that thou dost know, Unless what thou dost know, thou others snow? It seemeth to be reason, when a man speaketh to withdraw himself from the world, that one should look beyond him. These do-it but by halves. Indeed they set their match against the time they shall be no more: but pretend to reap the fruit of their designs, when they shall be absent from the world, by a ridiculous contradiction. The imagination of those, who through devotion seek solitariness, filling their minds with the certainty of heavenly promises, in the other life, is much more sound consorted. They propose God as an object infinite in goodness, and incomprehensible in power, unto themselves. The soul hath therein, in all free liberty, wherewith to glut herself. Afflictions and sorrows, redound to their profit, being employed for the purchase and attaining of health, and eternal gladness. Death, according to one's wish, is a passage to so perfect an estate. The sharpness of their rules, is presently made smooth and easy by custom; and carnal concupiscences, rejected, abated, and ●ulled a sleep by refusing them; for nothing entertaineth them but use and exercise. This only end of another life, blessedly immortal, doth rightly merit we should abandon the pleasures and commodities of this our life. And he that can enlighten his soul with the flame of a lively faith and hope, really and constantly, in his solitariness, ●th build unto himself a voluptuous and delicious life, far surmounting all other lives. Therefore doth neither the end nor middle of this counsel please me. We are ever falling into a relapse, from an ague to a burning fever. This plodding occupation of books, is as painful as any other, and as great an enemy unto health, which ought principally to be considered. And a man should not suffer himself to be inveigled by the pleasure he takes in them: It is the same pleasure, that looseth the thriving husbandman, the greedy-covetous, the sinning-voluptuous, and the puft-up ambitious. The wisest men teach us sufficiently to beware and thield-us from the treasons of our appetites, and to discern true and perfect pleasures, from delights blended and intermingled with more pain. For, most pleasures, (say they) tickle, fawn upon, and embrace-us, with purpose to strangle-us, as did the thieves whom the Egyptians termed Phili●●as: And if the headache would seize upon us before drunkenness, we would then beware of too much drinking: but sensuality the better to entrap-us, marcheth before, and hideth her track fromus. Books are delightful; but if by continual frequenting them, we in the end lose both health and cheerfulness (our best parts (let us leave them. I am one of those who think their fruit can no way countervail this loss. As men that have long time felt themselves enfeebled through some indisposition, do in the end yield to the mercy of Physic, and by art have certain rules of life prescribed them, which they will not transgress: So he that withdraws himself, as distasted and overtired with the common life, ought likewise to frame and prescribe this unto the rules of reason; direct and range the same by premeditation, and discourse. He must bid all manner of travel farewell, what show soever it bear; and in general shun all passions that any way impeach the tranquility of mind and body, and follow the course best agreeing with his humour. unusquisque sua noverit ire via. Proport. lib. 2. el. 25. ●8. His own way every man Tread-out directly can. A man must give to thriving-husbandrie, to laborious study, to toilsome hunting, and to every other exercise, the utmost bounds of pleasure; and beware he engage himself no further, if once pain begin to intermeddle itself with her; we should reserve business and negotiations, only for so much as is behoveful to keep us in breath, and to warrant us from the inconveniences which the other extremity of a base, faint-hearted idleness draws after it. There are certain barren and thorny sciences, which for the most part are forged for the multitude: they should be left for those, who are for the service of the world. As for myself, I love no books, but such as are pleasant, and easy, and which tickle me, or such as comfort and counsel me, to direct my life and death. — tacitum sylvas inter reptare salubres Hordib. 1. epist. 4. 4. Curantem quidquid dignum sapiente bonóque est. Silently creeping midst the wholesome wood With care what's for a wiseman and a good. The wiser sort of men, having a strong and vigorous mind may frame unto themselves an altogether spiritual life. But mine being common, I must help to uphold myself by corporal commodities: And age having eftsoons despoiled me of those that were most suitable to my fantasy. I instruct and sharpen my appetite to those remaining, most sortable this other season. We must tooth-and nail retain the use of this lives pleasures, which our years snatch from us, one after another: Carpamus dulcia, nostrum est, Pers. sat. 5. 155 Quod vivis, cinis & maenes & fabula fies. Pluck we sweet pleasures: we thy life give thee. Thou shalt a tale, a ghost, and ashes be. Now concerning the end of glory, which Pliny, and Cicero propose unto us, it is far from my discourse: The most opposite humour to solitary retiring, is ambition. Glory and rest, are things, that cannot squat in one same form: as far as I see, these have nought but their arms and legs out of the throng, their mind and intent is further and more engaged in them then ever it was. Tun▪ vetule auriculis alienis colligis escas? Pers. sat. 1. 22. Gatherest thou dotard these years, Fresh baits, fine food, for others ears? They have gone-backe that they might leap the better, and with a stronger motion make a nimbler offer amidst the multitude. Will you see how they shoot-short by a corns breadth? let us but counterpoise the advice of two Philosophers, and of two most different sects: The one writing to Idomeneus, the other to Lucilius their friends, to divert them from the managing of affairs and greatness, unto a solitary kind of life. You have (say they) lived hither to swimming and floating adrift, come and die in the haven; you have given the past of your life ●●●o light, give the remainder unto darkness. It is impossible to give-over occupations, if you do not also give-over the fruits of them: Therefore clear yourself from all care and glory. There is great danger, lest the glittering of your forepassed actions should overmuch dazzle you, yea, and follow you even to your den. Together with other concupiscences, shake off that which cometh from the approbation of others. And touching your knowledge and sufficiency, take you no care of them, they will lose no whit of their effect; if yourself be any thing the better for them. Remember but him, who being demanded, to what purpose he toiled so much about an Art, which could by no means come to the knowledge of many. Few are enough for me; one will sufi●ce, yea, less than one will content me, answered he. He said true: you and another are a sufficient theatre one for another; or you to yourself alone. Let the people be one unto you, and one ●e all the people to you: It is a base ambition to go about to draw glory from ones idleness, and from ones lurking-hole. A man must do as some wild beasts, which at the entrance of their caves, will have no manner of footing seen. You must no longer seek, what the world saith of you, but how you must speak unto yourself: withdraw yourself into yourself; but first prepare yourself to receive yourself: it were folly to trust to yourself, if you cannot govern yourself. A man may as well fail in solitariness, as in company, there are ways forit, until such time as you have framed yourself such, that you dare not halt before yourself, and that you shall be ashamed of, and bear a kind of respect unto yourself, Obversentur Cic. Tusc. qu. lib. 2. species honestae animo: Let honest Ideas still represent themselves before your mind: Ever present Cato, Photion, and Aristides unto your imagination, in whose presence even fools Sen●c. epist. 11. would hide their faults, and establish them as controllers of all your intentions. If they be disordered and vntuned, their reverence will order and tune them again: they will contain you in a way, to be contented with yourself; to borrow nothing but from yourself, to settle and stay your mind in assured and limited cogitations, wherein it may best please itself, and having gotten knowledge of true felicities, which according to the measure a man understands them, he shall accordingly enjoy, and with them rest satisfied, without wishing a further continuance, either of life or name. Lo here the counsel of truly-pure, and purely-true philosophy, not of a vainglorious, boasting, and prating philosophy, as is that of the two first. The nine and thirtieth Chapter. A consideration upon Cicero. ONe word more in comparison of these two. There are gathered out of Cicero's writings and from Pliny's, (in mine opinion little agreeing with his uncle) infinite testimonies of a nature beyond measure ambitious. Amongst others, that they openly solicit the Historians of their times, not to forget them in their writings: and fortune, as it were in spite▪ hath made the vanity of their request to continue even to our days, and long since the histories were lost. But this exceedeth all hearts-basenesse in persons of that stamp, to have gone about to draw some principal glory from prating and speaking, even to employ their private Epistles written to their friends; in such sort, as some missing the opportunity to be sent, they notwithstanding cause them to be published, with this worthy excuse, that they would not lose their travel and lucubrations. Is it not a seemly thing in two Roman Consuls, chief magistrates of the commonwealth, Empress of the world, to spend their time in wittily devising, and closely hudling-up of a acquaint missive or witty epistle, thereby to attain the reputation, that they perfectly understand their mother-tongue? What could a seely Schoolmaster, who gets his living by such trash, do worse? If the acts of Xenophon, or of Caesar had not by much exceeded their eloquence, I can not believe, they would ever have written them. They have endeavoured to recommend unto posterity, not their sayings, but their doings. And if the perfection of well-speaking might bring any glory suitable unto a great parsonage, Scipio and Le●ius would never have resigned the honour of their Comedies, and the elegancies, and smooth-sportfull conceits of the Latin tongue, unto an African servant: For, to prove this labour to be theirs, the exquisite eloquence, & excellent invention thereof doth sufficiently declare it: and Terence himself doth avouch it-: And I could hardly be removed from this opinion. It is a kind of mockery and injury, to raise a man to worth, by qualities misseeming his place, and unfittting his calling, although for some other respects praiseworthy; and also by qualities that ought not to be his principal object. As he that would commend a King to be a cunning Painter, or a skilful Architect, or an excellent Harquibuzier, or a never missing runner at the Ring. These commendations acquire a man no honour, if they be not presented altogether with those that are proper and convenient unto him, that is to say, justice, and the skill to govern, and knowledge to direct his people both in peace & war. In this sort doth Agriculture honour Cyrus, and Eloquence Charlemagne, together with his knowledge in good letters. I have in my time seen some, who by writing did earnestly get both their titles and living, to disavow their aprentissage, mar their pen, and affect the ignorance of so vulgar a quality; and which our people holds, to be seldom found amongst wisemen, endeavouring to be commended for better qualities. Demosthenes' his companions in their embassage to Philip, praised their Prince to be fair, eloquent, and a good quaffer. Demostenes said, they were commendations rather fitting a woman, an advocate, and a sponge, than a King. Imperet bellante prior, iacentem Hor. car. secul. 51. Lenis in hostem. Better he rule, who merciful will rue His foe subdued, than he that can subdue. It is not his profession to know, either how to hunt cunningly, or to dance nimbly. Orabunt causas alij, coelique meatus Virg Aen. lib. 6. 850. Describent radio, & fulgentia cider a dicent; Hic regere imperio populos sciat.— Others shall causes plead, describe the skies Motion by instrument, say how stars rise? But let him know to rule (just, valiant, wise.) Plutarch saith moreover, That to appear so absolutely excellent in these lesse-necessarie parts, is to produce a witness against himself, to have ill spent his hours, and fond bestowed his study, which might better have been employed to more behoveful and profitable use. So that Philip King of Macedon, having heard great Alexander his son sing at a feast a vie with the best musicans: Art thou not ashamed (said he unto him) to sing so well? And to the same Philip, said a physician, 'gainst whom he contended about his Art, God forbid, my Sovereign, that ever so much hurt should befall you, that you should understand these things better than myself. A King ought to be able to ansere, as Ipicrates did the Orator who in his invective urged him in this manner: And what art thou thou shouldst so brave-it? Art thou a man at Arms? Art thou an Archer? Art thou a Pikeman? I am none of all those, but I am he who command all those. And Antisthenes' madeit as an argument of little valour in Ism●nias, when some commended him to be an excellent Flutist. Well I wot, that when I hear some give themselves to imitate the phrase of my Essays, I would rather have them hold their peace: They do not so much raise the words, as depress the sense; so much the more sharply, by how much more obliquely. Yet am I deceived if some others take not more hold on the matter; and how well or ill soever, if any writer hath scattered the same, either more material, or at least thicker on his paper: That I may collect the more, I do but huddle up the arguments or chief heads. Let me but add what follows them, I shall daily increase this volume. And how many stories have I glanced-at therein, that speak not a word, which whosoever shall unfold, may from them draw infinite Essays? Nor they, nor my allegations do ever serve simply for examples, authority, or ornament. I do not only respect them for the use I draw from them. They often (beyond my purpose) produce the seed of a richer subject, and bolder matter, and often collaterally, a more harmonious tune, both for me, that will express no more in this place, and for them that shall hit upon my tune. But returning to virtue, I find no great choice, between him that can speak nothing but evil, Sen. epist. 115. p. and one that can talk nothing but to talk well. Non est ornamentum vir●le concinnitas. Fineness is no great grace for a man. Wise men say, that in respect of knowledge, there is nothing but Philosophy, and in regard of effects, but Virtue; which is generally fit for all degrees, and for all orders. Something there is alike in these two other Philosophers; for they also promise eternity to the Epistles, they write to their friends. But after another fashion, and to a good purpose, accommodating themselves to others vanity; For they send them word, that if care to make themselves known unto future ages, and respect of renown, doth yet retain them in the managing of affairs, and makes them fear solitariness, and a retired life, to which they would call them, that they take no more pains for it: forasmuch as they have sufficient credit with posterity, by answering them; and were it but by the Epistles they write unto them, they will make their name as famous, and as farre-knowen, as all their public actions might do. Besides this difference, they are notfrivolous, idle, and trivial Epistles, and only compact and held together with exquisite choice words, hudled-up and ranged to a just smooth cadence, but stuffed and full of notable sayings, and wise sentences; by which a man doth not only become more eloquent, but more wise, and that teach us, not to say well, but to do well. Fie on that eloquence, which leaves us with a desire of it, and not of things: unless a man will say, that Cicero's being so exceedingly perfect, doth frame itself a body of perfection. I will further allegea story, which to this purpose we read of him, to make us palpably feel his natural condition. He was to make an Oration in public, and being urged betimes to prepare himself for it, Erisychthon one of his servants came to tell him, the Auditory was deferred till the morrow next; he was so glad of it, that for so good news he gave him his liberty. Touching this subject of Epistles, thus much I will say; It is a work wherein my friends are of opinion I can do something: And should more willingly have undertaken to publish my gifts, had I had who to speak unto. It had been requisite (as I have had other times) to have had a certain commerce to draw me on, to encourage me, and to uphold me. For, to go about to catch the wind in a net, as others do, I cannot; and it is but a dream. I am a sworn enemy to all falsifications. I should have been more attentive, and more assured, having a friendly and strong direction, than to behold the diverse images of a whole multitude: and I am deceived, if it had not better succeeded with me. I have naturally a comical and familiar style: But after a manner peculiar unto myself, inept to all public Negotiations, answering my speech, which is altogether close, broken, and particular: I have no skill in ceremonious letters, which have no other substance, but a fair contexture of complimental phrases and courteous words. I have no taste nor faculty of these tedious offers of service and affection. I believe not so much as is said, and am nothing pleased to say more than I believe. It is far from that which is used now adays: For, there was never so abject and servile a prostitution of presentations; life, soul, devotion, adoration, servant, slave; all these words are so generally used, that when they would express a more emphatical intent and respective will, they have no means left them to express it. I deadly hate to hear a flatterer: which is the cause I naturally affect a pithy, sinnowie, dry, round, and harsh kind of speech; which, of such as have no further acquaintance with me, is judged to incline to disdain. I honour them most, whom I seem to regard least: And where my mind marcheth most cheerfully, I often forget the steps of gravity: And I offer myself but saintly and rudely to those whose I am indeed, and present myself lest, to such as I have most given myself. M● thinks they should read it in my heart, and that the expression of my words, wrongeth my conception. To welcome, to take leave, to bid farewell, to give thanks, to salute, to present my service, and such verbal compliments of the ceremonial laws of our civility, I know no man so sottishly-barren of speech, as myself. And I was never employed to indite Letters of favour or commendatory, but he for whom they were, judged them dry, barren, and faint. The Italians are great Printers of Epistles, where of I think I have a hundred several Volumes. I deem those of Hannibal Caro to be the best. If all the paper I have heretofore scribbled for Ladies were extant, at what time my hand was truly transported by my passion, a man should haply find some page worthy to be communicated unto idle and fond-doting youth, embabuinized with this fury. I ever write my letters in post-haste, and so rashly-head long, that howbeit I write intolerablie ill, I had rather write with mine own hand, than employ another: for I find none that can follow me, and I never copy them over again. I have accustomed those great persons that know me, to endure blots, blurs, dashes, and botches, in my letters, and a sheet without folding or margin. Those that cost me, either most labour or study, are they that are least worth. When I once begin to trail them, it is a sign my mind is not upon them. I commonly begin without project: the first word begets the second. Our modern letters are more fraught with borders, and prefaces, than with matter, as I had rather write two, then fold and make up one, which charge I commonly resign to others: So likewise when the matter is ended, I would willingly give another the charge, to add these long orations, offers, prayers, and imprecations, which we place at the end of them, and wish heartily, some new fashion would discharge us of them. As also to superscribe them with a legend of qualities, titles, and callings, wherein, lest I might have tripped, I have often times omitted writing, especially to men of justice, Lawyers, and Financiers. So many innovations of offices, so difficult a dispensation and ordinance of diverse names and titles of honour, which being so dearly bought, can neither be exchanged or forgotten without offence. I likewise findit graceless and idly-fond, to charge the front and inscription of the many books and pamphlets, which we daily cause to be imprinted with them. The fortieth Chapter. That the taste of goods or evils doth greatly depend on the opinion we have of them. MEn (saith an ancient Greek sentence) are tormented by the opinions they have of things, and not by things themselves. It were a great conquest for the ease of our miserable human condition, if any man could establish every where this true proposition. For if evils have no entrance into-us, but by our judgement, it seemeth that it lieth in our power, either to contemn or turn them to our good. If things yield themselves unto our mercy, why should we not have the fruition of them, or apply them to our advantage? If that which we call evil & torment, be neither torment, nor evil, but that our fancy only gives it that quatie, it is in us to change-it: and having the choice of it, if none compell-us, we are very fools, to bandy for that party, which is irksome unto us: and to give infirmities, indigence and contempt, a sharp and ill taste, if we may give them a good: And if fortune simply affoord-us the matter, it lieth in us to giveit the form. Now that that which we term evil, is not so of itself, or at least, such as it is, that it depends of us to giveit another taste, and another countenance (for all comes to one) let us see whether it can be maintained. If the originall-being of those things we fear, had the credit of its own authority to lodge itself in us, alike and semblable would it lodge in all: For men be all of one kind, and except the most or least, they are furnished with like means to judge, and instruments to conceive. But the diversity of opinions, which we have of those things, doth evidently show, that but by composition they never enter into-us. Some one peradventure doth lodge them in himself, as they are in essence, but a thousand others give them a new being, and a contrary. We account of death, of poverty, and of sorrow, as of our chiefest parts. Now death, which some of all horrible things call the most horrible, who knows not, how others call it, the only haven of this lives-torments? the sovereign good of nature? the only sta●e of our liberty? and the ready and common receipt of our evils? And as some do, fearefully-trembling, and senslesly-affrighted, expect her coming, others endure it more easily than life: And one complaineth of her facility; Mors ut inam pavidos vitae subducere nolles, ●●can. lib. 4. 580. Sed virtus to sola daret! O death! I would thou wouldst let cowards live, That resolved valour might thee only give! But let us leave these glorious minds: Theodorus answered Lysimachus, who threatened to kill him: Thou shalt do a great exploit to come to the strength of a Cantharideses. The greatest number of Philosophers are found to have either by design prevented, or hastened and furthered their deaths. How many popular persons are seen brought unto death, and not to a simple death, but intermixed with shame, & sometimes with grievous torments, to embrace it with such an undaunted assurance; some through stubborn wilfulness, othersome through a natural simplicity, in whom is nothing seen changed from their ordinary condition; settling their domestical affairs, recommending themselves unto their friends, preaching, singing, and entertaining the people: yea, and sometimes uttering words of ●esting and laughter, and drinking to their acquaintance, as well as Socrates? One who was led to the gallows, desired it might not be thorough such a street, for fear a Merchant should set a Ser●ant on his back, for an old debt. Another wished the hangman not to touch his throat, lest he should make him swoon with laughing, because he was so ticklish. Another answered his confessor, who promised him he should sup that night with our Saviour in heaven, Go thither yourself to supper, for I use to fast a nights. Another upon the Gibbet calling for drink, and the hangman drinking first, said, he would not drink after him, for fear he should take the pox of him. Every man hath heard the tale of the Piccard, who being upon the ladder ready to be thrown down, there was a wench presented unto him, with this offer (as in some cases our law doth sometimes tolerate) that if he would marry her, his life should be saved, who after he had a while beheld her, & perceving that she halted, said hastily, Away, away, good bangman, make an end of thy business, she limps. The like is reported of a man in Denmark, who being adjudged to have his head cut off, and being upon the scaffold, had the like condition offered him, but refused it, because the wench offered him was jaw-falne, long che●kt, and sharpe-nosed. A young lad at toulouse, being accused of here●ie, in all points touching his belief, referred himself wholly to his Master's faith, (a young scholar that was in prison with him) and rather chose to die, than he would be persuaded his Master could err. We read of those of the Town of Arras, at what time king Lewis the eleventh took it, that amongst the common people many were found, who rather than they would say, God save the King, suffered themselves to be hanged. And of those baseminded jesters or buffoons, some have been seen, that even at the point of death, would never leave their jesting and scoffing. He whom the headsman threw off from the Gallows, cried out, row the Galley, which was his ordinary byword. Another, who being at his last gasp, his friends had laid him upon a pallet alongst the fireside, there to breath his last, the Physician demanding where his grief pained him? Answered, between the bench and the fire: And the Priest to give him the last unction, seeking for his feet, which by reason of his sickness were shruncken up, he told him, My good friend you shall find them at my legs ends, if you look well. To another that exhorted him to recommend himself to God, he asked, who is going to him? And the follow answering, yourself shortly: If it be his good pleasure, I would to God it might be to morrow night, replied he: Recommend but yourself to him, said the other, and you shall quickly be there: It is best then, answered he, that myself carry mine own commendations to him. In the Kingdom of Narsinga, even at this day their Priest's wives are buried alive with the bodies of their dead husbands. All other wives are burnt at their husband's funerals, not only constantly, but cheerfully. When their king dieth, his wives, his concubines, his minions, together with all his officers and servants, which make a whole people, present themselves so merrily unto the fire, wherein his body is burned, that they manifestly seem● to esteeme-it as a great honour, to accompany their deceased master to his ashes. During our last wars of Milan, and so many take, losses, miseries, and calamities of that City, the people impatient of so many changes of fortune, took such a resolution unto death, that I have heard my father say; he kept account of five and twenty chief householders, that in one week made them-selves away: An accident which hath some affinity with that of the Xanthians, who being besieged by Brutus, did pell-mell-headlong, men, women, and children precipitate themselves into so furious a desire of death, that nothing can be performed to avoid death, which these did not accomplish to avoid life: So that Brutus had much ado, to save a very small number ofthem. Every opinion is of sufficient power to take hold of a man in respect of life. The first Article of that courageous oath, which the Country of Greece did swear, and keep, in the Median war, was, that every particular man should rather change his life unto death, than the Persian laws for theirs. What a world of people are daily seen in the Turkish wars, and the Grecians, more willing to embrace a sharp, a bitter, and violent death, then to be uncircumcized and baptised? An example whereof no religion is incapable. The Kings of Castille having banished the jews out of their Country, king john of Portugal for eight crowns a man, sold them a retreat in his dominion, for a certain time, upon condition (the time expired) they should avoid, and he find them ships to transport them into Africa. The day of their departure come, which passed, it was expressed, that such as had not obeyed, should forever remain bondslaves; ships were provided them, but very scarce and sparingly: And those which were embarked, were so rudely, churlishly, and villainously used, by the passengers and mariners; who besides infinite other indignites, loitred so long on the seas, now forward, now backward, that in the end, they had consumed all their victuals, and were forced, if they would keep themselves alive, to purchase some of them, at so excessive a rate, and so long, that they were never set a shore, till they had brought them so bare, that they had nothing l●●t them but their shirts. The news of this barbarous inhumanity being reported to those that were yet on land, most of them resolved to yield and continue bound-slaves: whereof some made a semblance to change their religion. Emanuel that immediately succeeded john, being come to the Crown, first set them at liberty, then changing his mind, commanded them to depart out of his dominions, and for their passages assigned them three ports. He hoped, as Bishop Osorius reporteth, (a Latin Historian of our ages, not to be despised) that the favour of the liberty, to which he had restored them, having failed to convert them unto Christianity, the difficulty to commit themselves unto mariners and pirates robberies, to leave a Country where they were settled with great riches, for to go seek unknown and strange regions, would bring them into Portugal again. But seeing all his hopes frustrate, & that they purposed to pass away, he cut off two of the three ports he had promised them, that so the tedious distance and incommodity of the passage might retain some, or rather that he might have the mean to assemble them all together in one place, for a fitter opportunity of the execution he intended, which was this. He appointed that all their children under fourteen years of age, should be taken from out the hands of their parents, and removed from their sight and conversation, to some place where they might be brought-up, and instructed in our religion. He saith that this effect caused an horrible spectacle: The natural affection between the fathers and the children; moreover the zeal unto their ancient faith, striving against this violent ordinance. Divers fathers and mothers were ordinarily seen to kill themselves, and with a more cruel example through compassion and love, to throw their young children into pits and wells, thereby to shun the Law. The term, which he had prefixed them being expired, for want of other means, they yielded unto thraldom. Some became Christians, from whose faith and race, even at this day (for it is a hundred years since) few Portugals assure themselves; although custom, and length of time be much more forcible counsellors unto such mutations, that any other compulsion. In the Town of Castelnaw Darry, more than fifty Albigeois, all heretics, at one time, with a determined courage, suffered themselves to be burned alive, all in one same fire, before they would recant & disavow their opinions. Quoties non modò ductores nostri, sed universi etiam exercitus, ad non dubiam mortem concurrerunt? How often have, not only our Leader (saith Tully) C●●, Tus●. qu l. ● but also our whole armies run roundly together to an undoubted death? I have seen one of my samiliar friends run furiously on death, with such, and so deeply in his heart rooted affection, by divers visages of discourse, which I could never suppress in him, and to the first that offered itself masked with a lustre of honour, without apprehending any sharp or violent end, therein to precipitate himself. We have many examples in our days: yea in very children of such as for fear of some slight incómodity have yielded unto death. And to this purpose saith an ancient Writer, what shall we not fear, if we fear that, which cowardice itself hath chosen for her retreat? here to huddle up a long beadroll of those of all sexes, conditions, sects, in most happy ages, which either have expected death most constantly, or sought for it voluntarily, and not only sought to avoid the evils of this life, but some, only to shun the satiety of living any longer: and some; for the hope of a better condition elsewhere, I should never have done. The number is so infinite, that verily it would be an easier matter for me to reckon up those that have feared the same. Only this more. Pirro the philosopher, finding himself upon a very tempestuous day in a boat, showed them whom he perceived to be most affrighted through fear, and encouraged them by the example of an hog, that was amongst them, and seemed to take no care at all for the storm: Shall we then dare to say, that the advantage of reason, whereat we seem so much to rejoice, and for whose respect we account ourselves Lords and Emperors of all other creatures, hath been infused into us for our torment? What availeth the knowledge of things, if through them we become more demisse? If thereby we lose the rest and tranquility wherein we should be without them? and if it makes us of worse condition than was Pirrhos hog? Shall we employ the intelligence, heaven hath bestowed upon us for our greatest good, to our ruin? repugning nature's design and the universal order and vicissitude of things, which implieth that every man should use his instruments and means for his own commodity? Well (will some tell me) let your rule fit you against death; but what will you say of indigence and necessity? what will you also say of minde-grieving sorrow, which Aristippus, Hieronimus, and most of the wisest have judged the last evil? and those which denied the same in words, confessed the same in effect? Possidonius being extremely tormented with a sharp and painful sickness, Pompey came to see him, and excused himself he had chosen so unfit an hour to hear him discourse of Philosophy: God forbid (answered Possidonius) that over pain should so far usurp upon me, as to hinder me from discoursing of so worthy a subject. And thereupon began to speak of the contempt of pain. But there whilst she played her part, and uncessantly pinched and urged him; 'gainst whom he exclaimed: Pain, do what thou list, I shall never be drawn to say, that thou art an evil. That saying, which they would make of such consequence, what doth it infer against the contempt of pain it contends but for the word. And if the pangs thereof move him not there whilst, why breaks he off his discourse for it? Why thinks he to work a great exploit, not to call it an evil? All doth not consist in imagination. here we judge of the rest. It is assured learning that here doth play her part, our own senses are judges of it? Qui nisi sunt veri; ratio quoque falsa sit omnis. Ivory. 4. 487. Which senses if they be not true, All reason's false, it must ensue. Shall we make our skin believe, the stripes of a whip do tickle it? and persuade our taste, that Aloes be wine of Graves? Pirrhos hog is here in our predicament. He is nothing daunted at death, but if you beat him, he will grunt, cry and torment himself. Shall we force the general law of nature, which in all living creatures under heaven is seen to tremble at pain? The very trees seem to groan at offences. Death is but felt by discourse, because it is the motion of an instant. Aut fuit, aut veniet, nihil est praesentis in illa. Death hath come, or it will not miss; But in it nothing present is. Mórsque minus poenae, quam mor a mortis habet. Orid. epis. Ariad. 82. Death's pain's less, roundly acted, Then when death is protracted. A thousand beasts, a thousand men, are sooner dead than threatened. Besides, what we principally call fear in death, it is pain her customary forerunner. Nevertheless if we must give credit to an ancient father, Malam mortem non facit, nisi quod sequitur mortem. Nothing, but what follows death, makes death to be evil. And I might more truly say, that neither that which goeth before, no● that which cometh after, is no appurtenance of death, we falsely excuse ourselves. And I find by experience, that it is rather the impatience of the imagination of death, that makes us impatient of the pain, & that we feel it twofold grievous, forasmuch as it threats us to die. But reason accusing our weakness, to fear so sudden a thing, so unavoidable, so insensible; we take this other more excusable pretence. All evils that have no other danger, but of the evil, we count them dangerless. The toothache, the pain of the gout, how grievous soever, because they kill not, who reckoneth them in the number of maladies? Well, suppose that in death we especially regard the pain: As also, poverty hath nothing to be feared for, but what she casteth upon us through famine, thirst, cold, heat, and other miseries, it makes us feel and endure. So have we nothing to do but with pain. I will willingly grant them, that it is the worst accident of our being. For, I am the man that hate and shun it as much as possible may be; because hitherto (thanks be unto God) I have no commerce or dealing with her: But it is in our power, if not to dissanul, at least to diminish the same, through patience: And though the body should be moved thereat, yet to keep the mind and reason in good temper. And if it were not so, who then hath brought virtue, valour, force, magnanimity, and resolution into credit, Where shall they play their part, if there be no more pain defied? Avida est periculi virtus, Sen. quar. von. cap. 4. Virtue is desirous of danger. If a man must not lie on the hard ground, armed at all assays, to endure the heat of the scorching Sun, to feed hungerly upon a horse, or an ass, to see himself mangled and cut in pieces, to have a bullet plucked out of his bones, to suffer incisions, his flesh to be stitcht-up, cauterized, and searched, all incident to a martial man; how shall we purchase the advantage and pre-eminence, which we so greedily seek-after, over the vulgar sort? It is far from avoiding the evil and pains of it, as wise men say, that of actions equally good, one should most be wished to be done, wherein is most pain and grief. Non enim hilaritate nec lascivia risu aut ioco comite levitatis, sed saepe etiam tristes firmitate & Cic. de fin. lib. 2. constantia sunt beati. For men are not happy by mirthfulnesse, or wantonness, or laughing, or jesting, which is the companion of lightness; but often, even those that are sorrowful, through their strong heart and constancy. And therefore was it impossible to persuade our fathers, that conquests achieved by main force, in the hazard of war were not more available and advantageous, than those obtained in all security by practices and stratagems. Laetius est, quoties magno sibi constat honestum. Luca. ●● 9 40. Honesty makes chiefest cheer, When it doth cost itself most dear. Moreover, this aught to comfort us, that naturally, if pain be violent, it is also short; if Cic. de fin. lib. 2. Epic. long, it is easy: Si gravis, br●vis; si longus, levis. If it be grievous, it is short; if it be long, it is light. Thou shalt not feel-it over long; if thou feel-it over much, it will either end itself, or end thee: All comes to one: If thou bear not it, it will bear thee away▪ Memineris maximos morte finiri, parvos multa habere intervalla requietis; mediocrium nos esse dominos: ut si tolerabiles Lib. 1. sint, feram●s: sin minus, è vita, quum ea non placeat, tanquàm è theatro exeamus. Remember the greatest are ended with death, the lesser have many pauses of rest; we are masters of the mean ones: so as if they be tolerable, we may bear them; if not, we may make an Exit from our life which doth not please, as from a stage. That which makes us endure pain with such impatience, is, that we are not accustomed to take our chief contentment in the soul, and that we do not sufficiently rely on her; who is the only, and sovereign mistress of our condition. The body hath (except the least or most) but one course, and one by ace. The soul is variable in all manner of forms, and rangeth to herself, and to her estate, whatsoever it be, the senses of the body, and all other accidents. Therefore must she be studied, inquired, and sought-after: and her powerful springs and wards should be roused up. There is neither reason, nor prescription, nor force can avail against her inclination and cho●se. Of so infinite byases, that she hath in her disposition, let us allow her one suitable and fit to our rest and preservation: Then shall we not only be sheltered from all offence, but if it please her, also gratified and flattered of all grievances and evils. She indifferently makes profit of all; even errors and dreams, do profitably bestead her, as a loyal matter, to bring-us unto safety and contentment. It may easily be seen, that the point of our spirit, is that which sharpeneth both pain and pleasure in us. Beasts wanting the same, leave their free and natural senses unto their bodies: and by consequence, single well nigh in every kind, as they show by the semblable application of their move. If in our members we did not trouble the jurisdiction, which in that belongs unto them; it may be thought, we should be the better forit, and that nature hath given them a just and moderate temperature toward pleasure and toward pain. And it can not choose but be good and just, being equal and common. But since we have freed and alienated ourselves from her rules, to abandon ourselves unto the vagabond liberty of our fantasies: let us at least help to bend them to the most agreeing side. Plato feareth our sharp engaging unto pain and voluptuousness, forsomuch as he over-strictly tieth and bindeth the soul unto the body: I am rather opposite unto him, because it is sundered and loosed from it. Even as an enemy becometh more furious when we fly from him, so doth pain grow more proud if it seeus tremble under it. It will stoop and yield upon better compositions to him that shall make head againstit. A man must oppose and bandy against it. In recoiling and giving ground, we call and draw on, the ruin threatning-us. Even as the body is more steady and strong to a charge, if it stand stiffly to it, so is the soul. But let us come to examples properly belonging unto weak-backt men, as I am, where we shall find, that it is with pain, as with stones, which take either a higher or deeper colour, according to the foil that is laid under them, and holdeth no other place in us than we giveit. Tantum doluerunt, quantum doloribus se inseruerunt. August. So much they grieved, as they interessed themselves in griefs. We feel a dash of a chirurgeons razor more than ten blews with a sword in the heat of fight. The painful throws of childbearing, deemed both by Physicians, and by the word of God to be ver●e great, and which our women pass with so many ceremonies, there are whole Nations that make no reckoning of them. I omit to speak of the Lacedaemonian women; but come we to the Swizzers of our Infantry, what change do you perceive in them? But that trudging and trotting after their husbands, to day you see them carry the child about their neck, which but yesterday they bore in their womb. And those counterfeit roguing Gyptians, whereof so many are daily seen amongst us, do they not wash their children so soon as they are borne? And in the next river that comes to hand? Besides so many harlots, which daily steal their children in the delivery as in the conception. The heauteous and noble Lady of Sabinus a Roman Patrician, for the interest of others, did alone, without any bodies help or assistance, and without noise or groaning endure the bearing, and delivery of two twins. A simple lad of Lacedaemon, having stolen a Fox (for they more feared the shame of their foolishness in stealing, than we fear the pain or punishment of misdeeds) and hiding the same under his cloak, endured rather to have his guts gnawn out by her, then to discover himself. An other who offering incense at a sacrifice, suffered his flesh to burn to the bone, by a coal fallen into his sleeve, rather than he would trouble that sacred mysteri●. And a great number have been seen, for the only essay of virtue, following their institution, that at the age of seven years, without so much as changing their countenance, have endured to be whipped to death. And Cicero hath seen whole troops, to beat one a● other so long, Cic Tuse quaest. lib. 5. with their ●●sts, with their feet, and with their teeth, till they have fainted and fallen down half dead, before ever they would confess to be overcome. Nunquam 〈◊〉 m●s vi●ceret, est enim ea semper invicta, sed nos umbris, deli●ijs, otio, languore, desid●●, animum infecimus: opinionibus malóque more delinitum mollivimus. Custom should never overcome nature, for she is still invincible: but we have infected our mind with shadows, daintiness, idleness, faint▪ heartedness, sloughtfulnesse, and have effeminated it, inveigled with opinions, and evil custom. Every man knows the story of S●●vola, who being entered the enemy's camp, with a full resolution to kill their Chieftain, and having miss of his purpose, to check his effect with a stranger invention, and to clear his country, confessed unto Prosenna, (who was the King he intended to kill) not only his design, but added moreover, that in his camp there were a great many Romans, who had undertaken and sworn the very same enterprise, and were confederates with him. And to make show of his dread less magnanimity, having caused a pan of burning coals to be brought, he saw and suffered his right arm (in penance that it had not effected his project) to be parched and well-nigh roasted off: until such time as his enemy himself, feeling a kind of remorse full horror, commanded the fire to be carried away. What shall we say of him, that would not vouchsafe to leave, or so much as to interrupt the reading of his book, whilst he had an incision made into him? And of him who resolved to scoff and laugh, even in spite and contempt of the tortures, which were inflicted upon him, so that the raging cruelty of the hangmen, that held him, and all the inventions of torments that could be devised, being redoubled upon him, one in the neck of another, gave him over? But he was a Philosopher. What? of one of Caesar's gladiators, who with a cheerful and smiling countenance endured his wounds to be slit and sounded? Quis mediocris gladiator ingemuit? Quis vultum mutavit unquam? Quis non modò stet●●, verùm Cic. Tuse quaest. lib. 2. etiam decubuit turpiter? Quis ●ùm decubuisset, ferrum recipere ●●ssus, collum contraxit? What mean Fencer hath once gro●ed? Which of them hath once changed his countenance? Which of them not only hath s●ood up, but even fallen with shame? Which of them when he was down, and was willed to take his death, did once shrinke-in his neck? But let us join some women unto them. Who hath not heard of her at Paris, which only to get a fresher hue of a new skin, endured to have her face flayed all over? There are some, who being ●ound, and in perfect health, have had some teeth puld-out, thereby to frame a daintier and more pleasing voice, or to set them in better order. How many examples of contempt of pain or smart have we of that kind and sex? What can they not do? What will they not do? What fear they to do? So they may but hope for some amendment of their beauty? Vellere queis cura est albos à stirpe capillos, Tibul. lib. ●. ●l. ●. 43. Et faci●m dempta pelle r●ferre novam. Who take great care to root out their grey hair, And skin flayed off a new face to repair. I have seen some swallow gravel, ashes, coals, dust, tallow, candles, and for the no●ce, labour and toil themselves to spoil their stomach, only to get a pale bleak colour. To become slender in waist, and to have a strait spagnolized body, what pinching, what guirding, what cingling will they not endure; Yea sometimes with yron-plates, with whalebones, and other such trash, that their very skin, and quick flesh is eaten-in and consumed to the bones; Whereby they sometimes work their own death. It is common to diverse nations of our times, to hurt and gash themselves in good earnest, to give credit to their words. And our king reporteth sundry examples, of what himself saw in Poloni●, and towards himself, But besides what I know to have by some been imitated in France; when I came from the famous Parliament of Blois; I had a little before seen a wench in Picardi● to witness the vehemency of her promises, and also her constancy, with the bodkin she wore in her hair, to give herself four or five thrusts in her arm, which made her skin to crack and gush out blood. The Turks are wont to wound and scar themselves for their Lady's sakes, and that the mark may the better appear, and continue the longer, they will presently lay fire upon the cuts; and to staunch the blood, and better to form the cicatrice, they will keepe-it on, an incredible while. Honest men that have seen it, have written the same, and sworn it unto me. And for ten Asper's you shall daily find some amongst them, that will give themselves a deep gash with a Scimitarie, either in their arms or thighs. I am very glad witnesses are so ready at hand; where we have most need of them: For, Christendom affordeth many. And after the example of our holy guide, there have been diverse, who for devotion would needs bear the cross. We learn by a worthy testimony of religion, that Saint Lewes the King wore a haire-shirt, until such time as he was so aged, that his confessor gave him a dispensation forit; and that every friday he caused his priests to beat his shoulders with five little iron chains, which to that purpose were ever carried with his night-geare. William our last duke of Guienne, father to that Eleonore, who transferred that Duchy unto the houses of France and England, the last ten or twelve years of his life, for penancesake wore continually a corselet, under a religious habit. Foulkes Earl of A●●ou went to jerusalem, there with a rope about his neck, to be whiped by two of his servants, before our Saviour's sepulchre. Do we not upon every good-friday, in sundry places, see a great number of men and women, scourge and beat themselves so long till they bruise and tear their flesh, even to the bones; I have often seen it myself, and that without enchantment, And some say (for they are masked) there were some amongst them, who for money would undertake thereby to warrant other men's religion, by a contempt of smart full pain, so much the greater, by how much the stings of devotion are of more force, th● those of covetousness. Q. Maximus buried his son who had been Consul: Marcus Ca●o his being elected Praetor and L. Paulus both his, within few days, with so cheerful and settled a countenance, and with out any show of sorrow. I have sometimes by way of ●esting told one, that he had confronted divine justice: For, the violent death of three tall children of his, coming unto his cares all upon one day, and sent-him, as it may be imagined, as a great scourge: he was so far from mourning, that he rather took it as a favour and singular gratification at God's hand. I do not follow these monstrous humours. Yet have I lost two or three myself, whilst they were young and at nurse, if not without apprehension of sorrow; yet without continuance of grief. And there is no accident woundeth men ac●p●r, or goeth so near the heart, as the loss of children. I see diverse other common occasions of affliction, which were I assailed by them, I should scarcely feel. And I have contemned and neglected some, when it hath pleased God to visit me with them, on which the world setteth so ugly and baleful a countenance, that I hardly dare boast of them without blushing. Ex quo intelligitur, non in natura, Cic. ib. l 3. sed in opinion esse aegretudinem. Whereby it is understood, that grief consisteth not in nature, but opinion. Opinion is a power full, boold, and unmeasurable party. Who doth ever so greedily search after rest full ease and quietness, as Alexander and Caesar have done after difficulties & unquietness? Terez, the father of Sitalcez, was wont to say, that when he had no ●arres, he thought there was no difference between him and his horsekeeper. Cato the Consul, to assure himself of certain towns in Spain, having only interdicted some of their inhabitants to wea●e arms, many of them killed themselves: Ferox gens nullam vitam rat● sine arm●s ●sse. A fierce kind of people, that thought there was no life without arms. How many know we who have abandoned and forsaken the pleasure of an easeful and quiet life in their houses, and to live with their friends & acquaintance; to follow the toyling-horror of unfrequented deserts, and that yielded and cast themselves unto the abjectness, contempt and vilifying of the world, wherewith they have so pleased themselves, as nothing more; Cardinal Boreme●s, who died lately at Milane, in the midst of the pleasures and debawches to which his Nobility, and the great riches he possessed, enticed him, and the air of Italy afforded him, and his youth alured him, did ever keep himself in so an austere form of life, that the same gown which served him in Summer he wore in winter. He never lay but upon straw; the hours which he might conveniently spare from his charge; he bestowed in continual study, ever kneeling, and having a small quantity of bread and water by his books side, which was all the provision for his repast, and time he employed in study. I know some who wittingly have drawn both profit and preferment from cuckoldry, the only name whereof is so irksome & bailful to so many men. If sight be not the most necessary of our censes, at last is it the most pleasing: the most plausible and profitable of our members, seem those thatserve to beget us: not withstanding diverse have mortaly hated them, only because they were over mucham●able, and for their worthssake have rejected them. So thought he of his e●es, that voluntarily put them out. The most common and soundest part of men, holdeth multitude of children to be a sign of great happiness and comfort; So do I, and many others, the want of them. And when Thales was demanded Wherefore he did not marry, he answered, because he would leave no issue or line of himself behind him. That our opinion endeareth and increaseth the price of things, it is seen in a great number of them, which we do not regard to esteem them; but for our use. And we neither consider their qualities nor utilities, but only our cost to recover and attain them: as if it were a part of their substance; and we call that worth in them, not what they bring-us, but what we bring to them. According as it weigheth, and is of consequence, so it serveth. Whereupon I perceive, we are thrifty husbands of what we lay out. Our opinion never suffers-it to run a false gallop. The price giveth a Diamond his title, difficulty to virtue, pain unto devotion, and sharpness unto physic. Such a one to come unto poverty, cast those few crowns he had into the same sea, wherein so many others, with such cark, danger, and care, on all parts seek to fish for riches. Epicurus saith, that to be rich is no ●ase, but a charge of affairs. Verily, it is not want, but rather plenty that causeth avarice. I will speak of mine own experience, concerning this subject. I have lived in three kinds of condition, since I came out of my infancy. The first time, which continued well-nigh twenty years, I have passt-it over, as one who had no other means but casual, and depending from the direction and help of others; without any certain maintenance, or regular prescription. My expenses were so much the more carelessly layed-out, and lavishly employed, by how much more they wholly depended on fortune's rashness and exhibition. I never lived so well at case: my fortune was never to find my friend's purse s●utte: besides which, I was to frame myself to all necessities: the care I took to pay every man at his prefixed day, which a thousand times they have prolonged, seeing the care I took to satisfy them. So that I had gotten unto myself the credit of a thrifty kind of good husbandry, though it were something shifting and deceitful. I do naturally feel a kind of pleasing contentment in paying of my debts, as if I rid myself of a burdenous weight, and free myself from the yoke of bondage and ingratitude. Besides, methinks I feel a kind of delight, that tickleth me to the quick, in performing a lawfully-iust action, & contenting of others. I except payments that require delays, covenants, & after reckonings: for, if I ●●●d any body that will undertake them, I blusningly and injuriously defer them as long as I can, for fear of that altercation or wrangling, to which my humour and manner of speech is altogether incompatible. There is nothing I hate more than driving of bargains: It is a mere commerce of dodging and impudency. After an hours debating and paltering, both parties will go from their words and oaths for the getting or saving of a shilling: yet did I borrow with great disadvantage. For, having no heart to borrow before others, or by word of mouth, I would adventure it upon a piece of paper, which with some hath no great power to move or force to persuade, and which greatly helps to refuse, I was wont to commit the succesle of my wants more freely and more carelessly unto fortune, than I have done since unto my wit and providence. Most good-husbands thinke-it strange and horrible to live on such uncertainties but they remember not, that most men in the world live so. How many good and well-born men have heretofore, and are daily seen to neglect and leave at six and seven, their patrimonies and certain goods, to follow and seek after court holy water, and wavering-favours of Princes and of fortune; Caesar engaged and indebted himself above a million of gold, more than he was worth to become Caesar. And how many merchants and poor beginners, setup and begin their traffic by the sale of their farms or cottages which they venture to the India's▪ Tota per impotentia freta; Catul. epig. 4. 18 In so great scarcity of devotion, we have thousands of Colleges, which pass the time very conveniently, daily gaping and expecting from the liberality of the heavens, what they must dine withal to morrow. Secondly; they consider not, that this certainty on which they ground themselves; is not much less uncertain and hazardous, then hazad itself. I see misery as near beyond two thousand crownesrent, as if it were hard at hand▪ for, besides that fortune hath many means to open a hundred gaps for poverty to enter-at, even through the thickest of our riches, and that often there is no mean between the high est and lowest fortune. Fortuna ●itrea est: tum▪ quum splendet, frangitur. Pr●● Sene●f. Fortune is glasse-like, brittle as 'tis bright: Light-gon, Light-broken, when it lends best light. And to turn all our defences, and raisings of high walls topsie-turvie: I find that want and necessity is by divers or different causes, as ordinarily seen to accompany and follow those that are rich in goods, as those that have none at all: & that peradventure it is somewhat less incommodious, when it is alone, then when it meeteth with riches: They rather come from order, then from receit: Faber est suae quisque fortunae. Ever, man is the forger of his Eras. chil 2. cent. 4. ●id. 63. own fortune. And me thinks that a rich man, who is needy, full of business, cark and toil, and troubled in mind, is more miserable, than he that is simply poor. In div●●ijs inopes, Sen. epist. 74. P. quod▪ genus egestatis gravissium est. In their abundance indigent, which is the most grievous kind of indigence. The richest and greatest princes are ordinarily urged by poverty and need unto extreme necessities. For, can any be more extreme, then thereby to become Tyrants, and unjust usurpers of their subjects goods, My second manner of life hath been to have money; which when I had once fingered, according to my condition I sought to hoard up some against a rainy day; esteeming that it was no having, unless a man had-ever some what besides his ordinary expenses in possession: & that a man should not trust that good, which he must live in hope to receive; and that, be his hope never so likely, he may many ways be prevented. For, I would say unto myself; what if I should be surprised by this chance, o● that accident? What should I do then? And in pursuit of these vain and vicious imaginations, I endeavoured by hook or crook, and by wi●e or wit to provide by this superfluous sparing for all inconveniences that might happen: And I could answer him, that would allege the number of inconveniences to be over-infinite? which if they followed not all men, they accompanied some, and happily the greatest number. An apprehension which I did not pass with out some painful care. I kept the matter secret, and I (that dare say so much of myself) would never speak of my money but falsely; as others do, who being rich, would seem to be poor, or being poor would appear rich: and dispense with their conscience, never to witness sincerely what they are worth. Oh ridiculous and shameful prudence. Did I travel any where? me thought I was never sufficiently provided; and the more I had laden myself with coin, the more I had also burdened myself with fear: sometimes of my wayes-safetie, othertimes of their trust that had the charge of my sumpters and baggage, whereof as some others that I know, me thought I was never thoroughly assured, except it were still in my sight. Left I my keys or my purse behind me? how many suspicions and thorny imaginations, and which is worse, incommunicable did uncessantly haunt-me? My mind was ever on my halfepenney; my thoughts ever that way. The sum being rightly cast, there is ever more pain in keeping, then in getting of money. If I did not altogether so much as I say, I at the least endeavoured to do-it. Of commodity I had little or nothing. To have more means of expenses, is ever to have increase of sorrow. For (as said Bion) The hairy man doth grieve as much a● the bald, if he have his hair pulled out. And after you are once accustomed, and have fixed your thoughts upon a heap of money, it is no longer at your service? you dare not diminish-it? it is a building, which if you touch or take any part fromit, you will think it will all fall. Necessity must first pinch you by the throat, and touch you near, before you will lay hands on it. And I should sooner pawn my clothes, or sell my horse, with less care and compulsion, then make a breach into that beloved purse, which I kept in store. But the danger was, that a man can hardly prefix any certain limits unto his desire (they are hard to be found in things a man deemeth good) and continue at one stay in sparing: A man shall ever increase this heap, and augment-it from one number to another; yea so long, till he basely and niggardly deprive himself of the enjoying of his own goods, and wholly fixit on the safekeeping of them, and never use them. According to this kind of usage, those are the richest people of the world, that have the charge of keeping the gates and walls of a rich City. Every moneyed man is covetous, according to mine opinion. Plato marshalleth this human or corporal goods; health, beauty, strength, riches: And riches, saith he, are not blind, but cleere-seeing, if they be illuminated by wisdom. Dionysius the younger, played a notable part; who being advertised, that one of his Siracusans, had hidden a certain treasure under the ground, commanded him to bring it unto him, which he did, reserving secretly one part of it unto himself, with which he removed his dwelling unto another City, where having lost the humour of hoarding-up of treasure, began to live a spending and riotous kind of life: which Dionysius hearing, commanded the remainder of his treasure, and which he had taken from him, to be restored unto him; saying, That sit hence he had learned how to make use of it, he did most willingly redeliver the same unto him. I was some years of the same humour: I wot not what good Demon did most profitably remove me from it, like to the Syracusan, and made me to neglect my sparing. The pleasure I apprehended of a far and chargeable journey, having overthrown this foolish imagination in me; From which I am fallen into a third kind of life (I speak what I think of it) assuredly much more pleasing and formal: which is, that I measure my garment according to my cloth, and let my expenses go together with my coming in; sometimes the one, other-whilst the other exceeds: But they are never far a sunder. I live from hand to mouth, from day to day, and have I but to supply my present and ordinary needs, I am satisfied: As for extraordinary wants, all the provisions of the world will not suffice them. And it is folly to expect that fortune will ever sufficiently arm us against herself. It is with our own weapons that we must combat her. Casual arms will betray us, when we shall have most need of them. If I lay up any thing, it is for the hope of some employment at hand, and not to purchase lands, whereof I have no need, but pleasure and delight. Non esse cupidum, pecunia est: non esse emacem, vectigal est. It is currant coin, not to be covetous: it is a thrifty income, not to Cis. Parad. ●ls. be still buying. I am neither possessed with fear, that my goods shall fail me, nor with desire they should increase and multiply. Divitiarum fructus est in copia: copiam declarat satietas. The fruit of riches is in plenty: satiety content with enough approoves that plenty. And I singularly Ibid. gratify myself this correction came upon me in an age naturally inclined to covetousness, and that I am free from that folly so common and peculiar to old men, and the most ridiculous of all human follies. Feraulez who had passed through both fortunes, & found, that increase of goods, was no accrease of appetite, to drink, to eat, to sleep, or to embrace his wife; and who on the other side felt heavily on his shoulders, the importunity of ordering and directing his Economical affairs, as it doth on mine, determine with himself to content a poor young man, his faithful friend, greedily gaping after riches, and frankly made him a present donation of all his great and excessive riches; as also of those, he was likely every day to get by the liberality and bounty of his good master Cyrus, and by war: always provided, he should undertake to entertain and finde-him honestly, and in good sort, as his guest and friend. In which estate they lived afterward most happily, and mutually content with the change of their condition. Lo hear a part, I could willingly find in my heart to imitate. And I much commend the fortune of an old prelate, whom I see, to have so clearly given-over his purse, his receipt, and his expenses, now to one of his chosen servants, and now to another, that he hath lived many years as ignorant of his household affairs, as any stranger. The confidence in others honesty, is no light testimony of ones own integrity: therefore doth God willingly favourite. And for his regard, I see no household order, neither more worthily directed, nor more constantly managed then his. Happy is that man, that hath so proportionably directed his estate, as his riches may discharge and supply the same, without care or encumbrance to himself; and that neither their consultation or meetings may in any sort interrupt other affairs or disturb other occupations, which he followeth, more convenient, more quire, and better agreeing with his heart. Therefore doth ease and indigency depend from every man's own opinion; and wealth and riches no more than glory or health, have either more pre-eminence or pleasure, than he who possesseth them, dareth them. Every man is either well or ill, according as he finds himself. Not he whom another thinks content, but he is content indeed, that thinks he is so himself: And only in that, opinion giveth itself essence and verity. Fortune doth us neither good nor ill: She only offereth-us the seed and matter of it, which our mind more powerful than she, turneth and applieth as best it pleaseth: as the efficient cause and mistress of condition, whether happy or unhappy. external accessions take both savour and colour from the internal constitution: As garments do notwarme-us by their heat, but by ours, which they are fit to cover, and nourish: he that with clothes should cover a cold body, should draw the very same service from them by cold. So is snow and ice kept in summmer. Verily as unto an idle and lazy body, study is but a torment; abstinence from wine to a drunkard, is a vexation; frugality is a heart's sorrow to the luxurious; and exercise molesteth an effeminate body: so is it of all things else. Things are not of themselves so irksome, nor so hard, but our baseness, and weakness maketh them such. To judge of high land great matters, a high and great mind is required; otherwise we attribute that vice unto them, which indeed is ours. A strait oar being under water seemeth to be crooked. It is no matter to see a thing, but the matter is how a man doth see the same. Well, of so many discourses, which diversely persuade men to contemn death, and patiently to endure pain, why shall we not find some on to make for our purpose; And of so several and many kinds of imagnations, that have persuaded the same unto others why doth not every man apply one unto himself, that is most agreeing with his humour; If he cannot digest a strong and abstersive drug, for to remove his evil, let him at least take a lenitive pill to ●ase the same. Opinio est quaedum effoeminata ac lev●s: nec in dolore magis, quam Cic. Tuse. quest lib. 2. eadem in voluptate: quâ, quum liquescimus flu●m●sque mollitia, apis aculeum five clamore ferre non possumus. Totum in eo est, ut tibi imperes. There is a certain effeminate and light opinion, and that no more in sorrow, than it is in pleasure, where by when we melt and run over in dainty tenderness, we cannot abide to be stung of a Bee, but must roar and cry out. This is the total sum of all, that you be master of yourself. Moreover, a man doth not escape from Philosophy, by making the sharpness of pains, and human weakness to prevail so far beyond measure: for, she is compelled to cast herself over again unto these in vincible replication. If it be bad to live in necessity, at least there is no necessity, to live innecessitie. No man is long time ill, but by his own fault. He that hath not the heart to endure neither life nor death, and that will nither resist nor run away, what shall a man do to him; The one and fortieth Chapter. That a man should not communicate his glory. OF all the follies of the world, the most universal, and of most men received is the care of reputation, and study of glory, to which we are so wedded, that we neglect, and castoff riches, friends, repose, life and health (goods effectual and substantial) to follow that vain image, and idlie-simple voice, which hath neither body, nor holdfast. Lafama, ch●inuaghisce à un dolce suon● ●ass. G●●r. can. 14. Glisuperbi mortali, & par si bella, Eun echo, un sogno, anzid un sogn● un o●bra, Ch●dogn● vent● si dilegua & sg●mbra, Fame that enveagl's high aspiring men With her harmonious sound, and seems so fair, An Echo is, a dream, dreams shadow rather Which flies and fleets as any wind doth gather. And of men's unreasonable humours, it seemeth, that the best philosophers do most slowly, and more unwillingly clear themselves of this, then of another: it is the most peevish the most froward, and the most opinative. Quia etiam bene proficientes animos tentare non cessat. Cic. pro. Arc. po. Because it ceaseth not to tempt even those Minds that profit best. There are not many whereof reason doth so evidently condemn vanity, but it is so deeply rooted in us, as I wot not whether any man could ever clearly discharge himself of it. When you have alleged all the reasons you can, and believed all to disavow and reject her, she produceth contrary to your discourses, so intestine inclination, that you have small hold against her. For (as Cicero saith,) Even those that oppugn her, will nevertheless have the books they write against her, to bear their names upon their fronts, endevoring to make themselves glorious by despising of glory. All other things fall within the compass of commerce: we lend our goods, we employ our lives, if our friends stand in need ofus: But seldom shall we see a man communicate his honour, share his reputation, and impart his glory unto others. Catulus Luctatius in the wars against the Cymbres, having done the utmost of his endeavours to stay his soldiers that fled before their enemies, put-himselfe amongst the runne-awaies, and dissembled to be a coward, that so they might rather seem to follow their Captain, then fly from the enemy: This was a neglecting and leaving off his reputation, to conceal the shame and reproach of other. When Charles the fifth passed into Provence, the year a thousand five hundred thirty seven, some are of opinion, that Anthony de Leva, seeing the emperor his master resolutely obstinate to undertake that voyage, & deeming it wonderfully glorious, maintained nevertheless the contrary, and discouncelled him fromit, to the end all the honour and glory of this counsel might be attributed unto his Master; and that it might be said, his good advice and foresight to have been such, that contrary to all men's opinions, he had achieved so glorious an enterprise: Which was, to honour and magnify him at his own charges. The Thracian Ambassadors comforting Achileonida the Mother of Brasidas, for the death of her son, and highly extolling and commending him, said, he had not left his equal behind him. She refused this private commendation, and particular praise, assigne-it to the public state. Do not tell me that (quoth she,) For I know the City of Sparta hath many greater, and more valiant Citizens than he was. At the battle of Creey, Edward the black Prince of Wales, being yet very young, had the leading of the vanguard: The greatest and chief violence of the fight, was in his quarter: The Lords and Captains that accompanied him, perceiving the great danger, sent unto King Edward the prince's father, to come and help them: which when he hard, he inquired what plight his son was-in, and how he did, and hearing that he was living, and on horseback; I should (quoth he) offer him great wrong to go now, and deprive him of the honour of this combats, victory, which he already hath so long sustained; what danger soever there be init, it shall wholly be his: and would neither go nor send unto him: knowing, that if he had gone, or sent, it would have been said, that without his aid all had been lost, and that the advantage of this exploit would have been ascribed unto him. Semper enim quod postremum adiectum est, id rem totam videtur traxisse. For, ever more that which was last added, seems to have drawn on the whole matter. In Rome many thought, and it was commonly spoken, that the chiefest glorious deeds of Scipio, were partly due unto Lalius, who notwithstanding did ever advance the greatness, further the glory, and second the renown of Scipio, without any respect of his own. And Theopompus King of Sparta, to one who told him that the commonwealth should subsist and continue still, forsomuch as he could command so well: No, said he, it is rather, because the people know so well how to obey. As the women that succeeded in the Peeredomes of France, had (notwithstanding their sex●) right to assist, and privilege to plead in cases appertaining to the iuridictions, of Peers. So the Ecclesiastical Peers, notwithstanding their profession and function, were bound to assist our Kings in their wars, not only with her friends, servants, and tenants, but in their own person. The Bishop of Beauvais, being with Philip Augustus in the battle of Bovines, did very courageously take part with him in the effect; but thought he should not be partaker of the fruit and glory of that bloody and violent exercise. He overcame, and forced that day many of the enemies to yield, whom he delivered unto the first gentleman he met withal, to rifle, to take them prisoners, or at their pleasure to dispose of them. Which he also did with William Earl of Salisbury, whom he delivered unto the Lord john of nest, with a semblable subtlety of conscience, unto this other. He desired to fell and strike down a man, but not to wound or hurt him: and therefore never sought but with a great club. A man in my time being accused to the King, to have laid violent hands upon a Priest, denied it very stoutly, forsomuch as he had only thumped and trampled him with his feet. The two and fortieth Chapter. Of the inequality that is between us. PLutarke saith in some place, That he finds no such great difference between beast and beast, as he findeth diversity between man and man. He speaketh of the sufficiency of the mind, and of internal qualities. Verily I find Epaminondas so far (taking him as I suppose him) from some that I know (I mean capable of common sense) as I could find in my heart to endear upon Plutarch; and say there is more difference between such and such a man, than there is diversity between such a man, and such a beast. Him vir viro quid praestat! T●r. Ph●r. act. 5. sc. 3. O Sir, how much hath one, An other man outgone? And that there be so many degrees of spirits, as there are steps between heaven and earth, and as innumerable. But concerning the estimation of men, it is marvel, that except ourselves, no one thing is esteemed but for its proper qualities. We commend a horse, because he is strong and nimble, I●●en. sat. 8. 57 — volucrem Sic laudamus equum, facili cui plurima palma Fervet, & exultat rauco victoria circo. We praise the horse, that bears most bells with flying, And triumphs most in races, hoarse with crying, and not for his furniture: a graie-hound for his swiftness, not for his choler: a hawk for her wing, not for her crane's or bells. Why do we not likewise esteem a man for that which is his own? He hath a goodly train of men following him, a stately palace to dwell in, so great credit amongst men; and so much rend coming in: Alas, all that is about him, and not in him. No man will buy a pig in a poke. If you cheapen a horse, you will take his saddle and clothes from him, you will see him bare and abroad: or if he be covered as in old times they want to present them unto Princes to be sold, it is only his least necessary parts, lest you should ammuse yourself to consider his colour, or breadth of his crupper; but chiefly to view his legs, his head, his eyes, and his foot, which are the most remarkable parts, and above all to be considered and required in him, Regibus hic mos est, ubi equos mercantur, apertos Ho l. 1. sat ●. 86 Inspiciunt, ne si facies, ut saepe, decora Molli ful●a pede est, emptorem inducat hiantem, Quòd pulchrae clunes, breve quòd caput, ardua cervix. This is King's manner, when they horses buy, They see them bare, lest if, as oft we try, Fair face have soft hooves, gulled the buyer be, They buttocks round, short head, high crest may see. When you will esteem a man, why should you survey him all wrapped, and envellopped? He then but showeth us those parts, which are no whit his own: and hideth those from us, by which alone his worth is to be judged. It is the goodness of the sword you seek after, and not the worth of the scabbard; for which peradventure you would not give a farthing, if it want his lining. A man should be judged by himself, and not by his compliments. And as an ancient saith very pleasantly: Do you know wherefore you esteem him tall. You account the height of his pattens: The Base is no part of his stature: Measure him without his stiltes. Let him lay aside his riches and external honours, and show himself in his shirt. Hath he a body proper to his functions, sound and cheerful? What mind hath he? Is it fair, capable and unpolluted, and happily provided with all her necessary parts? Is she rich of her own, or of others goods? Hath fortune nothing of hers to survey therein? If broade-waking she will look upon a naked sword: If she care not which way her life goeth from her, whether by the mouth or by the throat; whether it be settled, equable, and contented: It is that a man must see and consider, and thereby judge the extreme differences that are between us: Is he — sapiens, sibique imperiosus, Quem neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vin●ula terrent, Li. 2. sat. 7. 83. Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores Fortis, & in s●ipso totus tears atque rotundus, Externi ne quid valeat per l●ue morari, In quem manca ruit semper fortuna?— A wise man, of himself commander high, Whom want, nor death, nor bands can terrify, Resol●d t'affront desires, honours to scorn, All in himself, close, round and neately-borne, As nothing outward on his smooth can stay, 'Gainst whom still fortune makes a lame assay. Such a man is five hundred degrees beyond kingdoms and principalities: Himself is a kingdom unto himself. Sapiens polipse singit fortunam sibi. Plan. Tr●n. act. 2. scen. 2. Trust me, who bears a wise man's name, His fortune to himself may frame. What is there else for him to wish for? — nónne videmus Lu●r. li. 2. 15. Nil aliud sibi naturam latrare, nisi ut quoi Corpore seiunctus dolor absit, mente fruatur, jucundo sensu cura se●otus metúque? See we not nature nothing else doth bark Unto herself, but he, whose bodies bark Is free from paines-touch, should his mind enjoy, Remoed from care and fear, with sense of joy? Compare the vulgar troops of our men unto him, stupid, base, servile, wavering, and continually floating on the tempestuous Ocean of diverse passions, which toss and retosse the same, wholly depending of others: There is more difference, then is between heaven and earth, and yet such is the blindness of our custom, that we make little or no account of it. Whereas, if we consider a Cottager & a King, a noble and a handicrafts man, a magistrate and a private man, a rich man and a poor; an extreme disparity doth immediately present itself unto our eyes, which, as a man may say, differ in nothing, but in their clothes. In Thrace. the King was after a pleasant manner distinguished from his people, and which was much endeared: He had a religion apart: a God several unto himself, whom his subjects might no ways adore: It was Mercury: And he disdained their gods, which were Mars, Bacchus, and Diana; yet are they but pictures, which make no essential dissemblance. For, as enterlude-plaiers, you shall now see them on the stage, play a King, an Emperor, or a Duke, but they are no sooner off the stage, but they are base rascals, vagabond abjects, and porterly hirelings, which is their natural and original condition: Even so the Emperor, whose glorious pomp doth so dazzle you in public: Scilicet & grandes viridi cum luc● s●●aragdi Luer. li▪ 4. 117. Auro includuntur, teritúrque Thalassina vestis Assidué, & Veneris sudorem exercita potat. Great emerald's with their grasse-greene-light in gold Are closed, nor long can marriage linen hold, But worn with use and heat of Venery drink's the sweat. View him behind the curtain, and you see but an ordinary man, and peradventure more vile, and more silly, than the least of his subjects. Ille beatus introrsum est; istius bracteata f●licit S●●. ●pi●●. 115. as est. One is inwardly happy: an others felicity is plated and guilt-over. Cowardice, irresolution, ambition, spite, anger, and envy, move and work in him as in another: Non enim gazae, neque consularis H●. l. 2. ●●. 16. 9 Summou●t lictor, miseros tumltus Mentis & curas laqueata circum — Tecta voluntas: Nor treasures, nor Maires officers remove The miserable tumults of the mind, Or cares that lie about, or fly above Their high-roofed houses with huge beams combined. And fear, and care, and suspect, haunt and follow him, even in the midst of his armed troops. Reveráque met us hominum, curaeque sequaces, Lu●●. l. 2. 46. Nec metuunt sonitus armorum, nec fera tela, Audactérque inter reges, rerúmque potentes Versantur, neque fulgorem reverentur ab aur●. Indeed men's still-attending cares and fear, Nor armors clashing, nor fierce weapons fear, With Kings converse they boldly, and kings peers, Fearing no lightning that from gold appears. Doth the ague, the megrim, or the gout spare him more than us? When age shall once seize on his shoulders, can then the tall yeomen of his guard discharge him of it? When the terror of ruthles-balefull death shall assail him, can he be comforted by the assistance of the gentlemen of his chamber? If he chance to be jealous or capricious, will our lowtingcurtzies, or putting off of hats, bring him in tune again? His bedstead enchased all with gold and pearls hath no virtue to allay the pinching pangs of the cholike. Nec calidae citius decedunt corpore febres, Id. ib. 34. Tex●ilibus si in picturis ostróque rubenti jacteris, quam si plebeia in vest cubandum est. Fevers no sooner from thy body fly If thou on arras or red scarlet lie Tossing, then if thou rest On coverlets home-drest. The flatterers of Alexander the great, made him believe, that he was the son of jupiter; but being one day sorehurt, and seeing the blood gush out of his wounds: And what think you of this? (Said he unto them) Is not this blood of a lively red hue, and merely human? Me thinks, it is not of that temper, which Homer feigneth to trill from the gods wounds. Hermodorus the Poet made certain verses in honour of Antigonus, in which he called him the son of Phoebus; to whom he replied; My friend, He that emptieth my close-stool knoweth well, there is no such matter. He is but a man at all assays: And if of himself he be a man ill borne, the Empire of the whole world cannot restore him. — puella Pers. sat. 2. 37. Hunc rapiant, quicquid calcaverit, hic rosa fiat. Wenches must ravish him, what ever he Shall tread upon, eftsoons a rose must be. What of that? If he be of a gross, stupid, and senseless mind: voluptuousness and good fortune itself, are not perceived without vigour, wit, and liveliness. Haec peri●de sunt, ut illius animus qui ea possidet, Ter. Heaut. act. 1. sc●n. 2. 21. Qui uti scit, ei bona, illi qui non utitur rectè, mala. These things are such, as the possessors mind, Good, if well used; if ill, them ill we find. Whatsoever the goods of fortune are, a man must have a proper sense to favour them: It is the enjoying, and not the possessing of them, that makes us happy. Non domus & fundus, non aeris aceruus & a●ri, Aegroto domini deduxit corpore febres, Ho●. 1. ●p. 2. 47 Non animo curas, valeat possessor oportet, Qui comportatis rebus benè cogitat uti. Qui cupit, aut metuit, invat illum sic domus aut res, Vt lippum pictae tabulae, fomenta podagram. Not house and land, and heaps of coin and gold Rid agues, which their sick Lords body hold, Or cares from mind: th'owner must be in health, That well doth think to use his hoarded wealth. Him that desires or fears, house, goods, delight, As foments do the gout, pictures sore-sight. He is a fool, his taste is wallowish and distracted, he enjoyeth it more, than one that hath a great cold, doth the sweetness of Greek wine, or a horse the riches of a costlyfaire furniture, wherewith he is trapped. Even as Plato saith, That health, beauty, strength, riches, and all things else he calleth good, are equally as ill to the unjust, as good to the just; and the evil chose. And then▪ where the body and the soul are in ill plight, what need these external commodities? Seeing the least prick of a needle, and passion of the mind is able to deprive us of the pleasure of the world's Monarchy. The first fit of an ague, or the first gu●rd that the gout gives him, what avails his goodly titles of Majesty? Totus & argento conflatus, totus & auro. All made of silver fine, Tibul. 1. El. 7. 71. All gold pure from the mine. doth he not forthwith loose the remembrance of his palaces and states? If he be angry or vexed, can his principality keep him from blushing, from growing pale, from gnashing his teeth like a Bedlam? Now if it be a man of worth, and well borne, his royalty, and his glorious titles will add but little unto his good fortune. Si ventri bene, si lateri est pedibúsque tuis, nil Hor. l. 1. ●p. 12. 5 Diviti● poterunt regales addere ma●us. If it be well with belly, feet, and sides, A King's estate no greater good provides. He seeth they are but illusions, and vain deceits. He may happily be of King Seleucus his advice: That he who foreknew the weight of a sceptre, should he finde-it lying on the ground, he would not deign to takeit up. This he said, by reason of the w●●ghtie, irksome and painful charges, that are incident unto a good King. Truly, it is no small matter to govern others, since so many cross●s and difficulties offer themselves, if we will govern ourselves well. Touching commanding of others, which in show seemeth to be so sweet, considering the imbecility of man's judgement, and the difficulty of choice in new and doubtful things. I am confidently of this opinion, that it is much more easy and plausible to follow, then to guide: and that it is a great settling of the mind, to be tied but to one beaten▪ path, and to answer but for himself. Vt satiùs multo iam sit, parere quietum, ●●●. li. 5. 11 37. quam regere imperio resv●lle.— Much better 'tis, in quiet to obey, Then to desire with Kings▪ power all to sway. Seeing Ciru● said, That it belongs not to a man to command, that is not of more worth, than those whom he commandeth. But King Hieron in Xenophon addeth moreover, That in truelyenjoying of carnal sensualities, they are of much worse condition, then private men; forasmuch as ease and facility, depriveth them of that sour-sweet tickling, which w● find in them. Pingu●s amor nimiúmque potens, in toedia nobis Orid. am. li. 2. el. 19▪ 25. Vertitur, & stomacho dulcis ut esca notched. Fat over-powerfull love doth loathsome grow, As fulsome sweetmeats stomachs overthrow. Think we, that highminded men take great pleasure in music? The satiety thereof makes it rather tedious unto them. Feasts, banquets, revels, dance, masks and turneys, rejoice them that but seldom see them, and that have much desired to see them: the taste of which-becommeth cloysome and unpleasing to those that daily see, and ordinarily have them: Nor do Ladies tickle those, that at pleasure and without suspect may be glutted with them. He that cannot stay till he be thirsty, can take no pleasure in drinking. Interludes and comedies rejoice and make us merry, but to players they are tedious and tasteless. Which to prove, we see, it is a delight for Princes, and a recreation for them, sometimes to disguise themselves, and to take upon them a base and popular kind of life. Plerumque gratae principibus vices, Hor. li. 3. ●d 29. 13. Mundaeque parvo sub lare pauperum Coe●ae sine aulaeis & ostro, Solicitam explicuere front ●m. Princes do commonly like interchange, And cleanly meals where poormen poorly house, Without all tapestry or carpets strange, Vnwrinkled have their care-knit, thought-bent brows. Nothing doth sooner breed a distaste or satiety, than plenty. What long-ing lust would not beealaide, to see three hundred women at his dispose and pleasure, as hath the Grand Turk in his Seraille? And what a desire and show of hawking had he reserved to himself from his ancestors, that never went abroad without seven thousand falconers at least? Besides which, I think, the lustre of greatness, brings no small incommodities to the enjoying of sweeter pleasures: they lie too open, and are too much in sight. And I wo● not why a man should longer desire them to conceal or hide their fault: For, what in us is indiscretion, the people judgeth to be tyranny, contempt, and disdain of the laws in them: And besides the ready inclination unto vice, it seemeth they also add unto it the pleasure of gourmandizing, and to prostrate public observances under their feet. Verily Plato in his Gorgias, defineth him to be a tyrant, that in a City hath leave and power to do what ever he list. And therefore often, the show and publication of their vice hurteth more than the sin in self. Every man feareth to be spied and controlled; which they are even in their countenances and thoughts: All the people esteeming to have right and interest to judge of them. And we see that blemishes grow either lesser or bigger, according to the eminence, and light of the place, where they are set, and that a mole or a wart in ones forehead is more apparently perceived, than a scar in another place. And that is the reason why Poets feign jupiters' loves to have been effected under other countenances, than his own; And of so many amorous-shifts, and love practices, they impute to him, there is but one (as far as▪ I remember) where he is to be seen in his greatness and majesty. But return we to Hieron●▪ he also relateth, how many incommodities he findeth in his royalty, being so barred, that he cannot at his liberty travel to go whether he pleaseth, being as it were a prisoner within the limits of his country; and that in all his actions he is encircled and hemd-in with an importunate and tedious multitude. Truly, to see our Princes all alone, sitting at their meat, beleagred-round with so many talkers, whisperers, and gazing beholders, unknown what they are or whence they come, I have often rather pitied then envied them. King Alphonsus was wont to say, that burthen-bearing asses were in that; in far better condition than Kings; for, their masters suffer them to feed at their ease, whereas Kings cannot obtain that privilege of their servants. And it could never fall into my mind, that it might be any special commodity to the life of a man of understanding, to have a score of find-faults, pickthanks, and controllers about his close-stool, nor that the service of a man, that hath a thousand pound rend a year, or that hath taken Casal, or defended Sienna, is more commodious or acceptable to him, then that of a sufficient, and well-experienced groom▪ Princelike advantages, are in a manner but imaginary pre-eminences. Every degree of fortune, hath some image of Principality. Caesar termeth all the Lords, which in his time had justice in France, to be Kinglets, or petty Kings. And truly, except the name of Sire, we go very far with our Kings. Look but in the Provinces remote and far from the court: As for example, in Brittany, the attending train, the flocking subjects, the number of officers, the many affairs, the diligent service, the obsequious ceremonies of a Lord, that liveth retired, and in his own house, brought up amongst his own servants, tenants, and followers: And note also the high pitch of his imaginations, and humours, there is no greater royalty can be seen: He heareth no more talk of his master, then of the Persian king, and happily but once a year: And knows but some far-fetched, and old kindred or pedigree, which his Secretary finds or keeps upon some ancient record or evidence. Verily our laws are very free, and the burden of sovereignty, doth scarcely concern a gentleman of France twice in his whole life. Essential and effectual subjection amongst us doth not respect any, but such as allure themselves unto it, and that affect to honour, and love to enrich themselves by such service: For he that can shroud and retire himself in his own home, and can manage and direct his house without suits in law, or quarrel with his neighbours, or domestical encumbrances, is as free as the Duke of Venice. Paucos servitus, plures Senec. epist. 2 2. servitutem tenent. Service holds few, but many hold service. But above all things Hieron seemeth to complain, that he perceiveth himself deprived of all mutual friendship, reciprocal society, and familiar conversation, wherein consisteth the most perfect and sweetest fruit of human life. For, what undoubted testimony of affection and good will, can I expect or exact from him, that willhe, or nill he, oweth me all he hath, all he can? Can I make account of his humble speech, of his low-lowting curtzie, or of his courteous offers, since it lieth not in his power to refuse them me? The honour we receive of those which fear and stand in awe of us, is no true honour. Such respects are rather due to royalty, to majesty, then to me. — maximum hoc regni bonum est, S●n Thyestes. act. 2. scen. 1. Quòd facta domini cogitur populus sui Quâm far, tam laudare. This is chief good of Prince's dominations, Subjects are forced their sov'raignes' acts and fashions To bear with patience, pass with commendations. Do I not see, that both the bad and the good King are served alike? That he who is hated, and he that is beloved are both courted alike? And the one as much fawned upon as the other? My predecessor was served with the same appearances, and waited upon with the like ceremonies, and so shall my successor be. If my subjects offend me not, it is no testimony of any good affection. Wherefore shall I take it in that sense, sithence they cannot, if they would? No man followeth me for any friendship that is between him and me: inasmuch as no firm friendship can be contracted, where is so small relation, so slender correspondency, & such disparity. My high degree hath excluded me from the commerce of men. There is too great an inequality, and distant disproportion. They follow for countenance, and of custom, or rather my fortune then myself: hoping thereby to increase theirs. Whatsoever they say, all they do unto me, is but a gloss, and but dissimulation, their liberty being every where bridled, and checked by the great power I have over them. I see nothing about me, but inscrutable hearts, hollow minds, feigned looks, dissembled speeches, and counterfeit actions. His Courtiers one day commended julian the Emperor for ministering of right, and doing of justice; I should easily grow proud (said he) for these praises▪ if they came from such as durst either accuse or discommend my contrary actions, should I commit any. All the true commodities that Princes have, are common unto them with men of mean fortune. It is for Gods to mount winged horses, and to feed on Ambrosia. They have no other sleep, nor no other appetite than ours. Their steel is of no better temper, then that wherewith we arm ourselves. Their crown, their diadem can neither hide them from the Sun, or shelter them from the rain. Dioclesian that wore one so much reverenced, and so fortunate, did voluntarily resign the same, to withdraw himself unto the pleasure of a private life; but a while after, the urgent necessity of public affairs requiring his presence, and that he should return to reassume his charge again, he answered those that solicited him unto it; you would never undertake to persuade me to that, had you but seen the goodly ranks of trees, which myself have planted in mine Orchard, or the fair muske-melo●s, I have set in my garden. According to Anacharsis his opinion, The happiest estate of a well-ordered common wealth should be, where all other things being equally common, precedency should be measured, and preferments suited according to virtue and desert, and the contrary according to vice. At what time King Pyrrhus undertook to pass into Italy, Cyneas his wise and trusty counsellor, going about to make him perceive the vanity of his ambition, one day bespoke him thus. My good sir, (said he) To what end do you prepare for so great an enterprise? He answered suddenly, To make myself lord of Italic. That done, what will you do then? (replied Cyneas) I will then pass (said Pyrrhus) into Gaul, and then into Spain: And what afterwards? I will then invade Africa, and subdue the same, and at last, when I shall have brought all the world under my subjection, I will then take my rest, and live contented at mine ease. Now, for God's sake Sir, (replied Cynoas') Tell me, what hinders you, that you be not now, if so you please, in that estate? Wherefore do you not now place yourself, where you mean to aspire, and save so much danger, so many hazards, and so great troubles as you interpose between both? Nimirum quia non bene norat quae esset habendi Lucr. lib. 5. 14. 43. Finis, & omnino quoad crescat vera voluptas The cause forsooth, he knew not what should be the end Of having, nor how far true pleasure should extend. I will conclude and shut up this treatise with an ancient verse, which I singularly applaud, and deem fit to this purpose. Moors cuique sui fingunt fortunam. Cic. Parad. 5. cor. Nep. Every man's manners and his mind, His fortune to him frame and find. The three and fortieth Chapter. Of sumptuarie Laws, or Laws for moderating of expenses. THE manner wherewith our Laws assay to moderate the foolish and vain expenses of table-cheare and apparel, seemeth contrary to its end. The best course were to beget in men a contempt of gold and silk-wearing, as of vain and unprofitable things, whereas we increase their credit and price: A most indirect course to withdraw men from them. As for example, to let none but Princes eat dainties, or wear velvets, and clothes of Tissue, and interdict the people to do-it, what isit but to give reputation unto those things, and to increase their longing to use them? Let Kings boldly quit those badges of honour; They have many other beside: Such excess is more excusable in other men, then in Princes. We may, by the examples of diverse Nations, learn sundry better fashions to distinguish ourselves and our degrees (which truly I esteem requisite in an estate,) without nourishing to that purpose, this so manifest corruption and apparent inconvenience. It is strange how custom in these indifferent things doth easily encroach and suddenly establish the footing of her authority. We had scarce worn cloth one whole year at the Court, what time we mourned for our King Henry the second, but certainly in every man's opinion, all manner of silks were already become so vile and abject, that was any man seen to wear them, he was presently judged to be some country fellow, or mechanical man. They were left only for Chyrurgians and Physicians. And albeit most men were apparelled alike, yet were there other sufficient apparent distinctions of men's qualities. How soon do plain chamoy-jerkins, and greasy canvas doublets creep into fashion and credit amongst our soldiers, if they lie in the field? And the garishness, neatness, and riches of silken garments grow in contempt and scorn? Let Kings first begin to leave these superfluous expenses, we shall all follow; and within a month, without edicts, ordinances, proclamations, and acts of Parliament, it will be observed as a law. The statutes should speak contrary, as thus. That no man or woman, of what quality soever, shall, upon pain of great forfeitures, wear any manner of silk, of scarlet, or any goldsmiths work, except only Enterlude-players, Harlots, and Courtesans- With such an invention did Zaleucus whilom correct the corrupted manners of the Locrines. His ordinances were such Be it enacted that ●o woman of free condition shall have any more than one maid-servant to follow her when she goeth abroad, except when she shall be drunken: And further, that she may not go out of the City by night, nor wear any jewels of gold, or precious stones about her, nor any gown beset with goldsmiths work, or imbroiderie, except she be a publike-professed whore: and moreover, that except panders and bawds, it shall not be lawful for any man to wear any gold-rings on his fingers, nor any rich garments, as are such of cloth made in the City of Miletum. So did he by these reproachful exceptions ingeniously drive his Citizens from vain superfluities, and pernicious dainties. It was a most profitable course, by honour and ambition to allure men unto their duty and obedience. Our Kings have the power to address all these external reformations. Their inclination serveth them as a law. Quicquid Principes faciunt, praecipere videntur. Whatsoever Princes do, that, they seem to command. The rest of France takes the model of the court, as a rule unto itself to follow. Let Courtiers first begin to leave-off and loath these filthy and apish breeches, that so openly show our secret parts; the bombasting of long pease-cod-bellied doublets, which makes us seem so far from what we are, and which are so cumbersome to arm: These long, effeminate, and daugling locks: That fond custom to kiss what we present to others, and Besolas manos in saluting of our friends: (a ceremony heretofore only due unto Princes;) And for a gentleman to come to any place of respect, without his rapier by his side, all unbraced, all untrust, as if he came from his close-stool: And that, against our forefather's manner, and the particular liberty of our French nobility, we should stand bareheaded, aloofe-off from them, wheresoever they be, and as about them, about many others: So many petty-kings, and petty-petty-kinglets have we now adays: And so of others like newfangled and vicious introductions: They shall soon be seen to vanish and be left. Although but superficial faults, yet are they of evil presages. And we are warned, that the foundation or main summers of our houses fail and shrink, when we see the quarters bend, or walls to break. Plato in his Laws, thinks there is no worse plague, or more pernicious in his City, then to suffer youth, to have the reins of liberty in her own hand, to change in their attires, in their gestures, dances, exercises, and songs, from one form to an other: And to remove their judgement, now to this, now to that place; following newfangled devises, and regarding their inventors: By which, old customs are corrupted, and ancient institutions despised. In all things, except the wicked, mutation is to be feared; yea, even the alteration of seasons, of winds, of livings, and of humours. And no laws are in perfect credit, but those to which God hath given some ancient continuance: So that no man know their offspring, nor that ever they were other than they are. The four and fortieth Chapter. Of Sleeping. REason doth appoint-us ever to walk in one path, but not always to keep one place: And that a wiseman should not permit human passions to stray from the right carrier; he may (without prejudice unto his duty) also leaveit unto them either to hasten or to slow his pace, and not place himself as an immovable and impassable Colossus. Were virtue herself corporeal and incarnate, I think her pulse would beat and work stronger, marching to an assault, then going to dinner: For, it is necessary that she heat and move herself. I have therefore mark't-it as a rare thing; to see great personages sometimes, even in their weightiest enterprises, and most important affairs, hold themselves so resolutelyassured in their state, that they do not so much as break their sleep for them. Alexander the great, on the day appointed for that furious-bloodie battle against Darius, slept so sound and so long that morning, that Parmenion was feign to enter his chamber, & approaching near unto his bed, twice or thrice to call him by his name, to awaken him, the hour of the battle being at hand, and urging him. Otho the Emperor having determined to kill himself, the very same night, after he had given order for his domestical affairs, shared his money amongst his servans, and whetted the edge of a sword, wherewith he intended to wound himself, expecting no other thing, but to know whether all his friends were gone to rest, fell into so sound a sleep, that the grooms of his chamber heard him snort in another room. This emperors death hath many parts semblable unto that of great Cato, and namely this: For, Cato being prepared to defeat himself, whilst he expected to hear news, whether the Senators, whom he caused to retire, were launched out from the haven of Utica, fell so fast asleep, that he was heard to snort into the next chamber: And he whom he had sent toward the port, having awaked him, to tell him, the storm was so rough, that the Senators could not conveniently put out to sea, he sent another, and lying down a new, fell asleep again, until the last messenger assured him, they were gone. We may also compare him unto Alexander, in that great and dangerous storm, which threatened him, by the sedition of Metellus the Tribune, who laboured to publish the decree of Pompey's reappeal into the City, together with his army, at what time the commotion of Catiline was on foot: against which decree only Cato did insist, and to that purpose had Metellus and he had many injurious speeches, and menaced one another in the Senate-house: And it was the next day, they were like to come to the execution in the marketplace, where Metellus, besides the favour of the common people, and of Caesar then conspiring and complotting for the advancement of Pompey, should come, accompanied with a multitude of strange and foreign slaves and fencers, to do their utmost: And Cato strengthened with his only constancy, and with an unmated resolve: So that his kinsmen, his familiars, and many honest men took great care, and were in heavy anxiety and pensiveness for him: of which many never left him all night, but sat up together, without rest, eating, or drinking, by reason of the danger they saw prepared for him; yea, his wife and sisters did nought but weep and wail, and for his sake torment themselves in their house, whereas chose he alone comforted every body, and blamed them, for their demissenesse: And after he had supped, (as he was wont) he went quietly to his bed, and slept very sound until the next morning, that one of his copartners in the Tribune-ship, came to call him, to go to the skirmish. The knowledge we have of this man's unmated-haughtie heart, by therest of his life; may make us judge with all security, that it only proceeded from a spirit, so far elevated above such accidents, that he dained not so much as to trouble his mind with them, no more then with ordinary chances. In the sea-fight, which Augustus gained against Sextus Pompeius in Sicily, even at the instant he should go to fight, was surprised with so heavy a sleep, that his friends were compelled to awaken-him, to give the signal of the battle; which afterward gave occasion unto Marcus Antonius, to charge him with this imputation, that he had not dared with open eyes to survey the marshalling of his army, and that his heart would not suffice him, to present himself unto his soldiers, until such time that Agrippa brought him news of the victory he had obtained of his enemies. But concerning young Marius, who committed a greater error (for on the day of his last battle against Sylla, after he had marshaled his army, and given the word or signal of the battle) he lay down in the shadow under a tree, a while to rest himself, and fell so fast asleep, that he could hardly be awaked with the rout and flight of his men, having seen no part of the fight, they say, it was because he was so exceedingly aggravated with travel, and overtired with weariness, and want of sleep, that nature was overcome, and could no longer endure. And touching this point, Physicians may consider; whether sleep be so necessary, that our life must needs depend ofit: For we find that Perseus' King of Macedon, prisoner at Rome, being kept from sleep, was made to die; but Pliny aleadgeth, that some have lived a long time without any sleep at all. And Herodotus reporteth, There are Nations, where men sleep and wake by half years. And those that write the life of Epimenides the wise, affirm, that he slept the continual space of seven and fifty years. The five and fortieth Chapter. Of the battle of Dreux. THere happened diverse rare accidents, and remarkable chances in our battle of Dreux: but those who do not greatly favour the reputation of the Duke of Guise, do boldly allege, that he cannot be excused, to have made a stand, and temporised with the forces he commanded, whilst the Lord Constable of France, General of the Army, was engaged and suppressed with the enemy's Artillery, and that it had been better for him, to hazard himself, to charge the enemy flankwise, then by expecting any advantage, to have him come behind him, to suffer so reproachful an overthrow, and so shameful a loss. But omitting what the event thereof witnessed, he that shall without passion debate the matter, shall easily (in my conceit) confess, that the aim and drift, not only of a Captain, but of every particular Soldier, ought chiefly to respect a victory in great: And that no particular occurrences, of what consequence soever, or what interest may depend on them, should never divert-him from that point. Philopoemen in an encounter with Machanidas, having sent before, a strong troop of Archers, and good mark men, to begin the skirmish: and the enemy, after he had put them to rout and dis-ranked them, ammusing himself in mainly pursuing them, and following the victory alongst the main battle, where Philopoemen was, although his soldiers were much moved and offended to see their fellows put to the worst, he could not be induced to budge from his place, nor make head against his enemy, to succour his men; but rather, having suffered them to be defeated, and cut in pieces before his face, began then to charge his enemies in the battalion of their Infantry, when he perceived them forsaken of their horsemen: And albeit they were Lacedæmonians, forasmuch as he charged them, at what time (supposing to have gained the day) they began to disorder themselves, he easily overcame them; which done, he pursued Machanidas. This case, is cousin-german unto that of the Duke of Guise. In that sharpe-bloodie battle of Agesilaus against the Boeotians, which Xenophon (who was there present) saith, To have been the hottest and rudest, that ever he had seen: Agesilaus refused the advantage, which fortune presented him, to let the battalion of the Boeotians pass, and to charge them behind, what certain victory soever he saw likely to follow the same, esteeming that it were rather skill than valour, and to show his prowess, and matchlesse-haughtie courage, chose rather to charge them in the front of their forces: But what followed? He was well beaten, and himself sorehurt, and in the end compelled to leave his enterprise, and embrace the resolution, which in the beginning he had refused, causing his men to open themselves, to give passage unto that torrent of the Boeotians; who when they were pastthrough, perceiving them to march in disarray, as they who persuaded themselves to be out of all danger, he pursued them, and charged them flank-wise. All which notwithstanding, he could never put to rout, or force them runaway, for they, orderly, and fair and softly made their retreat, ever showing their face, until such time as they got safely into their holds and trenches. The six and fortieth Chapter. Of Names. WHat diversity soever therebe in herbs, all are shuffled-up together under the name of a salad. Even so, upon the consideration of names, I will here huddleupa gallymafrie of divers articles. Every several nation hath some names, which, I wot not how are sometimes taken in ill part, as with us jack, Hodge, Tom, Will, Bat, Benet, and so forth. Item, it seemeth that in the genealogies of Princes, there are certain names fatally affected; as Ptolomeus with the Egyptians, Henries in England, Charles in France, Baldwins in Flanders, and Williams in our ancient Aqustanie, whence some say came the name of Gui●nne; which is but a cold invention: As if in Plato himself there were not some as harsh and ill-founding. Item, it is an idle matter, yet nevertheless, by reason of the strangeness, worthy the memory, and recorded by an ocular witness, that Henry Duke of Normandy son to Henry the second King of England, making a great feast in France, the assembly of the Nobility was so great, that for pastimes sake, being, by the resemblance of their names, divided into several companies: in the first were found a hundred and ten Knights sitting at one table, and all called Williams; besides private Gentlemen and servants. It is as pleasant to distribute the tables by the names of the assistants, as it was unto Geta the Emperor, who would have all his messes or dishes served-in at his table orderly according to the first letters of their names; As for example, those that began with P. as pig, pie, pike, puddings, pouts, pork, pancakes, etc. were all served in together; and so of all the rest. Item, it is a common saying, That it is good to have a good name: As much to say, good credit, or good reputation. Yet verily it is very commodious to have a well-sounding and smooth name, and which is easy to be pronounced, and facile to be remembered: For, Kings, Princes, Lords, and Magistrates know and remember us the better by them, and will not so soon forget-us. Mark but of those that serve and follow-us, whether we do not more ordinarily command, and sooner employ such, whose names come readier to our tongue, or memory. I have seen our King Henry the second, who could never ● it on the right name of a Gentleman of Gascoigne; and did ever call a Lady waiting on the Queen, by the general surname of her house, because that of her father was so harsh, and hard to be remembered. And Socrates saith, It ought to be a father's special care, to give his children good and easie-sounding names. Item, it is reported, that the foundation of our Lady the great at Poitiers had this beginning; A licentious young man having his dwelling house where the Church now standeth, had one night gotten a wench to lie with him, who so soon as she came to bed, he demanded her name, who answered, Marry: The young man hearing that name, was suddenly so strucken with a motive of religion, and an awful respect unto that sacred name, of the virgin Marie, the blessed mother of our Saviour and Redeemer, that he did not only presently put her away from him, but reform all the remainder of his succeeding life: And that in consideration of this miracle, there was first erected a Chapel in the place where this young man's house stood, consecrated unto that holy name, and afterward the fair great church, which yet continueth. This vocal and auricular correction, and so full of devotion, struck right unto his soul. This other following, of the same kind, insinuated itself by the corporal senses. Pythagoras' being in company with two young men, whom he heard complot and consult (being somewhat heated with feasting and drinking) to go and ravish a chast-house, commanded immediately the minstrels to change their tune; and so by a solemn, grave, severe, and spondaicall kind of music, did sweetly inchaunt allay, and entrance their rashviolent▪ and lawless lust. Item, shall nor succeeding posterity say, that our modern reformation hath been exact and delicate, to have not only oppugned and resisted errors and vices, and filled the world with devotion, humility, obedience, peace, and every other kind of virtue, but even to have combated their ancient names of baptism, Charles, Lewis, Francis, to people the world with Methusalem, Ezechiel, Malachi, much better feeling of a lively faith? A Gentleman my neighbour, esteeming the commodities of ancient times in regard of our days, forgot not to allege the fierceness and magnificence of the names of the Nobility of those times, as Don Grumedan▪ Quedragan, and Agesilan: And that, but to hear them sounded, a man might easily perceive; they had been other manner of men; then Peter, Gui●●o●, or Michael. Item; I commend and am much beholding to james Amiot; in the course of a French oration of his to have still kept the full ancient Latin names, without disguising or changing them, to give them a new-French cadence. At the first they seemed somewhat harsh unto the Reader; but now, by reason of the credit, which his Plutarch hath deservedly gotten amongstus, custom hath removed all strangeness fromus. I have often wished that those who write histories in Latin, would leaveus our names whole, and such as they are: For, altering Va●demont, to Vallemontanus, and metamorphosing them, by suring them to the Grecian or Latin tongue, we know not what to make of them, and are often at a nonplus. To conclude my discourse; It is an ill custom, and of exceeding bad consequence in our country of France, to call every man by the name of his Town, Manor, Hamlet, or Lordship, as the thing that doth most confound houses, and bring sur-names out of knowledge. A cadet or yonger-brother of a good house, having had for his appanage a Lordship, by whose name he hath been known and honoured, cannot well forsake and leave the same ten years after his death; His Lordship cometh unto a stranger, who doth the like: Guess then where we are, and how we shall do to come to the perfect knowledge of these men. We need not go far for other examples, but look into our Royal house, where so many partages, so many sur-names, and so many several titles have so encumbred-us, that the original of the stock is utterly lost. There is so much liberty in these mutations, that even in my time, I have seen no man nor woman advanced by fortune unto some extraordinary preferment, that hath not immediately had adjoined unto him or her genealogical titles, new and unknown to their fathers, and that hath not been engrafted into some noble stock or family. And as good luck serveth, the basest upstart, and most obscure houses are most apt unto adulteration, and falsification. How many private Gentlemen have ●e in France, which according to their account, and blazoning of their gentry, are of the royal blood or race? I believe more than others. Was it not prettily said, and with a good grace, by one of my friends? There was a great company bandied together about a quarrel which a Gentleman had with another, who in very truth had some prerogative of titles, honours, and alliances above the common sort of Nobility; upon which word of his prerogative, every one seeking to equal himself unto him, alleged, some one of spring, some another, some the resemblance of his name, some of his arms, othersome an old far-fetched pedigree, and the meanest of them to be the great grandchild of some King beyond the Seas. When they came all to dinner, this man whom hitherto they had all followed, in lieu of taking his wont place, making low-lowting reverences, went to the lowest end of the board, entreating the company to hold him excused, that through rash-unadvisednesse he had hitherto lived with them companion-like, but now being lately informed of their right qualities, he began to know them according to their ancient degrees, and that it did not duly belong unto him to sit above so many Princes. And after he had acted his play, he began to rail upon them with a thousand injuries; saying thus unto them. For the love of God content yourselves, with what your forefathers have been contented, and with the state whereto God hath called-us: we have sufficient if we can maintain it well, letus not disparaged the fortune and condition of our predecessors; and reject-we these fond imaginations, which can not fail any man, whatsoever he be, that is so impudent as to allege them. Crests, Arms, and Coats have no more certainty than surnames. I bear Azure semè of trefoils, a Lion's Paw in faece, Or, armed Gules. What privilege hath this Coat, that it should for ever continue particularly to my house? A son in law will transfer the same into an other family: Some silly-upstart purchaser of Arms will make it his chief coat. There is nothing wherein meet so many alterations, and so much confusion. But this consideration draweth me perforce unto an other field. Let us somewhat narrowly search-into, and for God's sake consider, on what foundation we ground this glory and reputation, for which the world is turned topsie-turvie. On what do we establish this transitory renown, which with so great mind-possessing toil, and industry we seek and gape-after? In fine, it is Peter or William, that beareth the same (marke-it well Reader) and to whom it belongeth. Is not hope a courageous faculty, which in a mortal subject, and in a moment, seeks to usurp infinite, and immensity, and to replenish his master's indigence with the possession of all things he can imagine or desire, before it would? Nature hath given us a pleasant joy to play withal in that. Is it Peter or William. And what is that but a word for all mouths? or three or four dashes of a pen, first, so easy to be varied, as I would willingly ask those, whom the honour of so many victories concerneth, or whether Guesquin, or Glesquin, or Gueaquin? yet were there more appearance here, then in Lucian that Ϲ. did sue T. for, — non levia aut ludicra petuntur Virg. Ae●. lib. 12. ●64. Pr●mia: No light prize, no reward in jest Is hunted after as the best. The wager goeth deep: The question is, which letter must be paid with so many sieges, battles, hurts, emprisonments, and services done unto the Crown of France by her ever-renowmed Constable. Nicholas Denis●t hath had no care but of the letters of his name, and hath changed all the contexture of them, there-out to frame the Earl of Alsinois, whom he hath honoured and presented with the glory of his Poesy and Painting. And Su●tonius the Historian hath loved but the sense of his own, and having taken away Lènis, which was his father's surname, hath left Tranquillus successor of his compositions reputation. Who would believe, Captain Bayard hath no honour, but that which he hath borrowed from the acts of Peter Terraill? And that Antonio Escalin (even before his eyes) suffered Captain P●●lin, and the Baron of La guard▪ to steal so many Navigations, voyages, and attempts, both by sea and land from him? Secondarily, they are dashes, and tricks of the pen, common unto a thousand men. How many are there in all races or families both of one name and surname? And how many in diverse families, races, ages, and countries? History hath known three Socrates, five Plato's, eight Aristotle's, seven Xenophons', twenty Demetrius, twenty Theodores: besides which, imagine how many came not to her knowledge. Who letteth my horse boy to call himself Pompey the Great? But after all, what means, what devises, are there that annex unto my horse keeper deceased, or to that other who had his head cut-off in Egypt, or that join unto them this glorified, and far-renowmed word, and these pen-dashes, so much honoured, that they may thereby advantage themselves? Id cinerem & manes credis curare sepult●s? Lib. 4. 3●. Think you, ghost's buried, ashes dead, Care much how we alive are sped? What feeling motion of revenge have the two companions in chief valour amongst men; Epaminondas of that glorious verse, which so many ages since is so common in our mouths for him? Consilijs nostris laus est a●trita Laco●um. C●●. Tus●. q●. ●●. 5. By our complots the haught-renowne. Of Spartan Gallant was brought down. And Africans of that other: A sole exoriente, supra Ma●tis paludes Ibid. Nemo est, qui factis me ●q●iparare qu●at? From Sun-rise to the Scythian-lake, of fame None in exploits can equalize my name. Those that survive are tickled with the pleasure of these words, and by them solicited with jealousy and desire, do presently without consideration transmit by fantasy this their proper motion of revenge unto the deceased; and with a fond-deceiving hope persuade themselves, when their turn cometh to be capable ofit. God he knowes-it, nevertheless, — adhaec se juven sat. 10. 137. Romanus Graiúsque & Barbarus Induperator Erexit, causas discriminis atque laborin Ind habuit, tanto maior fame sitis est, quam Virtutis. Heerto himself the Roman General, The Grecian, the Barbarian, roused and raised▪ He●re hence drew cause of perils, travails all: So more, then to be good, thirst to be praised. The seven and fortieth Chapter. Of the uncertainty of our judgement. IT is even as, that verse saith, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Of words on either side, A large dole they divide. There is law sufficient to speak every where, both pro and contra; As for example: Vinse Hannibal, & non seppe vsar'poi Pet. Par. 1. son. 86. 1. Ben la vitt●riosa sua ventura. Hannibal conquered, but he knew not after To use well his victorious good fortune. He that shall take this part, and with our men go about, to make that oversight prevail, that we did not lately pursue our fortune at Montcontour: Or he that shall accuse the King of Spain, who could not use the advantage he had againstus at Saint Quintin, may say this fault to have proceeded from a mind drunken with his good fortune, and from a courage ful-gorged with the beginning of good luck; looseth the taste how to encrease-it, being already hindered from digesting what he hath conceived ofit: He hath his hands full, and can not take hold any more: Unworthy that ever fortune should cast so great a good into his lap: For, what profit hath he of-●t, if notwithstanding, he give his enemy leisure and means to recover himself? What hope may one have, that he will once more adventure to charge these reinforced and reunited forces, and new armed with despite and vengeance, that durst-not, or knew-not how to pursue them being dismayed and put to rout? Dum fortuna calet, dum conficit omnia terror. Lu●an. l. 7. 734. While fortune is at height in heat, And terror worketh all by great. But to conclude, what can he expect better, than what he hath lately lost? It is not, as at Fence, where the number of venies given, gets the victory: So long as the enemy is on foot, a man is newly to begin. It is no victory, except it end the war. In that conflict where Caesar had the worse, near ●he City of Oricum, he reproachfully said unto Pompey's Soldiers, That he had utterly been overthrown, had their Captain known how to conquer: and paid him home after another fashion when it came to his turn. But why may not a man also hold the contrary? That ●t is the effect of an insatiate and rash-headlong mind, not to know how to limit or period his covetousness: That it is an abusing of God's favours, to go about to make them lose the measure he hath prescribed them, and that anew to cast himself into danger after the victory, is once ●ore to remit the same unto the mercy of fortune: That one of the chiefest policies in military profession, is, not to drive his enemy unto despair. Sill● and Marius in the social war, having discomfited the Marsians, seeing one squadron of them yet on foot, which through despair, like furious beasts were desperately coming upon them, could not be induced to stay or make head against them. If the fervour of Monsieur de Foix had not drewne-him over rashly and moodily to pursue the stragglers of the victory at Rave●na, he had not blemished the same with his untimely death; yet did the fresh-bleeding memory of his example serve to preserve the Lord of A●gusen from the like inconvenience, at Serisoles. It is dangerous to assail a man, whom you have bereft of all other means to escape or shift for himself, but by his weapons: for, necessity is a violent school-mistris, and which teacheth strange lessons: Gravissimi sunt m●rsu● irritatae necessicatis. No biting so grievous, as that of necessity provoked and enraged. Vincuur haud gratis ingula qui prov●●at host●m. Lu●●n. l. 4. 278. For nought you overcome him not, Who bids his foe come cut his throat. And that is the reason, why 〈◊〉 impeached the King of Lacedemo● who came from gaining of a victory against the Mantinaeans, from going to charge a thousand Argians, that were escaped whole from the discom●ture; but rather to let them pass with all liberty, lest he should come to make trial of provoked & despited virtue, through and by ill fortune. Clodomire king of Aquitaine, after his victory, pursuing Gondemar king of B●rgundie, vanquished and running away, forced him to make a stand, and make head again, but his unadvised wilfulness deprived him of the fruit of the victory, for he died in the action. Likewise he that should choose, whether it were best to keep his soldiers richly and sumptuously armed, or only for necessity, should seem to yield in favour of the first, whereof was Sertorious, Philopoemen. Brutus, Caesar, and others, urging that it is ever a spur to ●●●●● and glory, for a soldier to see himself gorgeously attired, and richly armed, & an occasion to yield himself more obstinate to sight, having the care to save his arms, as his goods and inheritance. A reason (saith Xenophon) why the Asiatikes carried with them, when they went to wars their wives and Concubines, with all their jewels and chiefest wealth. And might also incline to the other side, which is, that a man should rather remove from his soldier, all care to preserve himself, than to encrease-it unto him▪ for, by that means he shall doubly fear to hazard or engage himself, seeing these rich spoils do rather increase an earnest desire of victory in the enemy: and it hath been observed, that the said respect hath sometimes wonderfully encouraged the Romans against the Samnites. Antiochus showing the Army, he prepared against them, gorgeously accountred with all pomp and stateliness, unto Hannibal, and demanding of him, whether the Romans would be contented withit: yea verily, answered the other, they will be very well pleased withit: They must needs be so, were they never so covetous. Lycurgus forbade his Soldiers, not only all manner of sumptuousness, in their equipage, but also to uncase or strip their enemies, when they overcame them, willing, as he said, that frugality & poverty should shine with the rest of the battle. Both at sieges, and elsewhere, where occasion brings us near the enemy, we freely give our soldiers liberty, to brave, to disdain, and injury him with all manner of reproaches: And not without appearance of reason; for, it is no small matter, to take from them all hope of grace and composition, in presenting unto them, that there is no way left to expect-it, from-him, whom they have so egregiously outraged, and that there is no remedy left but from victory. Yet had Vitelluis but bad success in that; for, having to deal with Otho, weaker in his soldiers valour, and oflong disaccustomed from war, and effeminated through the delights and pleasures of the City, himself in the end set them so on fire with his reproachsull and injurious words, upbraiding them with their pusilanimity and faint-heartedness, and with the regret of their Ladies, banquetings and sensualities, which they had left at Rome, that he put them into hart again, which no persuasions or other means could do before; and thereby drew them, whom nought could have driven, to fight, and fall upon him. And verily, when they are injuries that touch a man to the quick, they shall easily urge him, who was very backward to fight for his King's quarrel, to be very forward in his own cause or interest. If a man but consider of what consequence the preservation, and importance, the safety of a general is in an Army, and how the enemy's chiefest aim, is at the fairest mark, which is the head, from which all other depend, it seemeth that that counsel can not be doubted of, which by sundry great Chieftains we have seen put in practice, which is, in the beginning of the fight, or in the fury of the battle, to disguise themselves. Notwithstanding the inconvenience a man may by this means incur, is no less than that mischief, which a man seeketh to avoid: For the Captain being unseen and unknown of his Soldiers, the courage they take by his example, and the hart they keep by his presence, is therewithal impaired and diminished; and losing the known ensigns, and accustomed marks of their Leader, they either deem him dead, or despairing of any good success, to be fled. And touching experience, we sometimes seeit to favour the one, and sometimes the other party. The accident of Pyrrhus in the battle he had against the Consul Levinus in Italy, serveth us for both uses: For, by concealing himself under the arms of Demogacles, and arming him with his own, indeed he saved his life, but was in great danger to fall into the other mischief, and lose the day. Alexander, Caesar, Lueullus, loved (at what time they were to enter fight) to arm and attire themselves with the richest arms, and garish clothes they had, and of particular bright-shining colours. Agis, Agesilaus, and that great G●lippus, contrary, would ever go to wars meanly accoutred, and without any imperial ornament. Among other reproaches, that Pompey is charged withal in the battle of Pharsalia, this is one special, that he idly lingered with his Army, expecting what his enemy would attempt; forasmuch as that (I will hear borrow the very words of Plutarch, which are of more consequence than mine) weakeneth the violence, that running giveth the first blows, and therewithal removeth the charging of the Combatants one against another, which more, than any other thing is wont to fill them with fury and impetuosity, when with vehemence they come to entershocke one another, augmenting their courage by the cry and running; and in a manner allayeth and quaileth the heat of the Soldiers: Loe-here what he saith concerning this. But had Caesar lost, who might not also have said, that chose the strongest and firmest situation, is that, wherein a man keeps his stand without budging, and that who is settled in his march, closing, and against any time of need, sparing his strength in himself, hath a great advantage against him, that is in motion and disordered, and that running hath already consumed part of his breath? Moreover, that an army being a body composed of so many several parts, it is impossible it should in such fury advance itself with so just a march, and proportioned a motion, and not break and disrank, or at least alter her ordinance, and that the nimblest be not grappling before his fellows may help-him. In that dreary battle of the two Persian brethren, Clearchus the Lacedaemonian, who commanded the Grecians that followed Cycus his faction, led them fair and gently without any hast-making to their charges; but when he came within fistie paces of his enemies, he bade them with all speed to run unto it; hoping by the shortness of the distance to manage their order and direct their breath; in the mean time giving them the advantage of the impetuosity, both for their bodies, and for their shooting-armes. Others have ordered this doubt in their army after this manner: If your enemies headlong run upon you, stay for them and budge not: If they without stirring stay for you, run with fury upon them. In the passage which the Emperor Charles the fifth made into Provence, our king Francis the first, stood a good while upon this choice; whether it were best, by way of prevention, to go and meet with him in Italy, or to stay his coming into France: and albeit he considered what an advantage it is, for one to preserve his house from the troubles and mischiefs that war brings with it, to the end that possessing her whole strength, it may continually in all times of need, store him with money, and supply him with all other helps; and considering how the necessity of direful war, doth daily enforce a General to make spoil of goods, and waste the Country, which cannot well be done in our own goods & country: and if the countryman doth not as patiently endure this ravage at his friends hands, as at his enemies, so as seditions may ensue amongst our own factions, and troubles among our friends: That licence to rob and spoil, which in his Country may not be tolerated, is a great furtherauce in a Soldier, and makes him the more willing, to endure the miseries and toilings that follow war: And what a hard matter it is to keep the Soldier in office and hart, who hath no other hope of profit, but his bare pay, and is so near his wife, his children, his friends, and his home: That he who layeth the cloth, is ever put to the greatest charges: That there is more pleasure in assailing then in defending: And that the apprehension of a battell-lost in our own home and entrails, is so violent, that it may easily snake the whole frame, and distemper the whole body. Seeing there is no passion so contagious, as that of fear, nor so easy apprehended and taken a-trust, or doth more furiously possess all parts of man: And that the Cities or Towns, which have either heard the bustling noise of the Tempest, or seen the sparkles of this all consuming fire at their gates, or have perhaps received their captains wounded, their Citizens pursued, and their Soldiers spoiled, and all out of breath, if they be not more than obstinately-constant, it is a thousand to one, if in that brunt of fury, they do not headlong cast themselves into some desperate resolution: yet did he conclude and choose this resolve for the best. First to revoke his forces, he had beyond the Mountains in Italy, and to stay his enemy's approaches. For, he might on the contrary part imagine, that being in his own Country, and amidst good friends, he had the better leisure to reinforce his decayed forces, and more opportunity, to strengthen Towns, to munite Castles, to store Rivers with all necessaries they wanted, and to keep all passages at his devotion, which done, all the ways should be open for him, and might by them have all manner of victuals, money, and other hab●lements of war brought-him, in safety, and without convoy: that he should have his subjects so much the more affectionate unto him, by how much nearer they should see the danger: That having so many Cities, Towns, Holds, Castles, and Bars for his security, he might at all times, according to opportunity and advantage, appoint and give law unto the fight: And if he were pleased to temporize, whilst he took his ease, kept his forces whole, and maintained himself in safety, he might see his enemy consume & waste himself, by the difficulties which daily must necessarily assault, environ and combate-him, as he who should be engaged in an enemie-countrie and foe-land; Where he should have nothing, nor meet with any thing, either before, or behind him, or of any side; that did not offer him continual war: no way nor means to refresh, to ease or give his army elbow-room, if any sickness or contagion should come amongst his men; nor shelter to lodge his hurt and maimed Soldiers: where neither money, munition, nor victuals might come unto him, but at the swords point; where he should never have leisure to take any rest, or breath; where he should have no knowledge of places, passages, woods, fords, rivers, or country, that might defend him from ambuscadoes, or surprises: And if he should unfortunately chance to lose a battle, no hope to save, or means to reunite the relics of his forces. And there want not examples to strengthen both sides. Scipio found-it better for him to invade his enemy's country of Africa, then to defend his own, and fight with him in Italy, where he was, wherein he had good success. But chose, Hannibal, in the same war wrought his own overthrow, by leaving the conquest of a foreign country, for to go and defend his own. The Athenians having left the enemy in their own land, for to pass into Sicily, had very ill success, and were much contraried by fortune: whereas Agathocles King of Siracusa prospered and was favoured by her, what time he passed into Africa, and left the war on soot in his own country. And we are accustomed to say with some show of reason, that especially in matters of war, the events depend (for the greatest part) on fortune; which seldom will yield, or never subject herself unto our discourse or wisdom, as say these ensuing verses. Et malè consultis pretium est, prudentia fallax, Manil. astr. lib. 4. 95. Nec fortuna probat causas sequitúrque merentes: Sed vaga per cunctos nullo discrimine fertur: Scilicet est aliud quod nos cogátque regátque Maius, & in proprias ducat mortalia leges. 'tis best for ill-advised, wisdom may fail, Fortune proves not the cause that should prevail, But here and there without respect doth sail, A higher power forsooth us over-drawes, And mortal states guides with immortal laws. But if it be well taken, it seemeth that our counsels and deliberations, do as much depend of her; and that fortune doth also engage our discourses and consultations in her trouble and uncertainty. We reason rashly, and discourse at random, saith Timeus in Plato: For, even as we, so have our discourses great participation with the temerity of hazard. The eight and fortieth Chapter. Of Steeds, called in French Destriers. BEhold, I am now become a Grammarian, I, who never learned tongue but by way of rote, and that yet know knot what either Adjective, Conjunctive, or Ablative meaneth. As far as I remember, I have sometimes heard-say, that the Romans had certain horses, which they called Funales, or Dextrarios, which on the right hand were led-by as spare horses, to take them fresh at any time of need: And thence it cometh, that we call horses of service Destriers. And our ancient Romans do ordinarily say, to Adexter, in steed of, to accompany. They also called Desultorios equos, certain horses that were so taught, that mainly-running with all the speed they had, joining sides to one another, without either bridle or saddle, the Roman gentlemen armed at all assays, in the midst of their running-race, would cast and recast themselves from one to an other horse. The Numidian men at arms, were wont to have a second spare-horse led by hand, that in the greatest fury of the battle, they might shift and change horse: Quibus, desultorum in modum, binos Liv bell pun. dec. 3. l. 3. trahentibus equos, inter acerrimam soepe pugnam in recentem equum ex fesso armatis transultare, mos erat. Tanta velocitas ipsis, támque docile equorum genus. Whose manner was, as if they had been vaulters, leading two horses with them in armour to leap from their tired horse to the freshone, even in the hottest of the fight. So great agility was in themselves, and so apt to be taught was the race of their horses. There are many horses found, that are taught to help their master, to run upon any man shall offer to draw a naked sword upon them; furiously to leap upon any man, both with feet to strike, and with teeth to bite, that shall affront them; but that for the most part they rather hurt their friends then their enemies. Considering also, that if they once be grappled, you can not easily take themoff, and you must needs stand to the mercy of their combat. Artibius, General of the Persian army had very ill luck to be mounted upon a horse fashioned in this school, at what time he sought man to man against Onesilus King of Salamis; for, he was the cause of his death, by reason the shield-bearer or squire of Onesilus cut him with a faulchon between the two shoulders, even as he was leaping upon his master. And if that, which the Italians report be true, that in the battle of Fornovo. King Charles his horse with kicking, wenching, and flying, rid both his master and himself from the enemies that encompast-him, to dismount or kill him, and without that, he had been lost: He committed himself to a great hazard, and scap't a narrow scouring. The Mammalukes boast, that they have the nimblest and readiest horses of any men at arms in the world. That both by nature they are instructed to discern, and by custom taught to distinguish their enemy, on whom they must leap and wince with feet, and bite with teeth, according to the voice their master speaketh, or rider giveth them. And are likewise taught to take up from the ground, lances, darts, or any other weapons with their mouths, and as he commandeth to present them to their rider. It is said of Caesar, and of Pompey the Great, that amongst their many other excellent qualities, they were also most cunning and perfect horsemen; and namely of Caesar, that in his youth being mounted upon a horse, and without any bridle, he made him run a full career, make a sudden stop, and with his hands behind his back perform what ever can be expected of an excellent ready horse. And even as nature was pleased to make both him and Alexander two matchless miracles in military profession, so would you say, she hath also endeavoured, yea, enforced herself to arm them extraordinarily; For, all men know, that Alexander's horse called Bucephalus, had a head shaped like unto that of a bull; that he suffered no man to get-on and sit-him, but his master; that none could wealde and manage him but he; what honours were done him after his death, all know, for he had a City erected in his name. Caesar likewise had another, who had his forefeet like unto a man's, with hooves cloven in form of fingers, who could never be handled, dressed, or mounted but by Caesar, who when he died, dedicated his image to the Goddess Venus. If I be once on horseback, I alight very unwillingly; for, it is the seat I like best, whether I be sound or sick. Plato commendeth-it to be availefu● for health: And Pliny affirmeth the same to be healthful for the slomacke, and for the joints And sithence we be fallen into this subject, let us a little sollow-it I pray you. We read of a law in Xenophon, by which all men that either had or were able to keep a horse, were expressly forbidden to travel and go a foot. Trogus and Iust●●us report, that the Parthians were not only accustomed to war on horseback, but also to dispatch all their business, and negotiate their affairs both public and private; as to batgaine, to buy, to sell, to parley, to meet▪ to entertain one another, and to converse and walk together; and that the chiefest difference between free men and servants amongst them, is, that the first ever ride, and the other go always on-foote. An institution first devised by King Cyrus. There are many examples in the Roman histories (and Suetonius doth more particularly note it in Caesar) of Captains that commanded their horsemen to alight, whensoever, by occasion, they should be urged unto it, thereby to remove all manner of hope from their Soldiers to save themselves by flight, and for the advantage they hoped-for in this manner of fight: Quo haud dubiè superat Romanus Wherein undauntedly the Romans Liv. dye. 1. li. 3. & 7. is superior to all saith Titus Livius: yet shall we see, that the first provision, and chief means they used to bridle rebellion amongst their new conquered nations, was to deprive them of all arms and horses. Therefore find we so often in Caesar; Arma proferri, i●menta Cas. comment. lib. 7. produci, obsides dari jubet: He commands all their armour should be brought forth, all their cattle should be driven out, and hostages should be delivered. The great Turk doth not permit at this day any Christian or jew, to have or keep any horse for himself, throughout all his large Empire. Our ancestors, and especially at what time we had wars with the English, in all solemn combats, or set battles, would (for the most part) alight from their horses, and fight on foot, because they would not adventure to hazard so precious a thing as their honour and life, but on the trust of their own proper strength, and vigour of their undaunted courage, and confidence of their limbs. Let Chrisanthes in Xenephon say what he pleaseth: whosoever fighteth on horseback, engageth his valour, and hazardeth his fortune on that of his horse; his hurts, his stumbling, his death, draws your life and fortune into consequence, if he chance to startle or be afraid, then are you induced to doubt or fear: if to leap forward, then to become rash and fond-hardie: if he want a good mouth or a timely spur, your honour is bound to answer forit. And therefore do not I finde-it strange, that those combats were more firm and furious, than those which now we see fought on horse▪ back. — cedebant pariter, paritérque ruebant Virg. Aen. l. ●. 756. Victores, victique, neque his fuga nota, neque illis. The victors and the vanquished both together Gave back, came on: the flight was known in neither. Their battles are seen much better compact and contrived: They are now but bicker and routs: primus clamor atque impetus rem decernit. The first shout and shock makes an end of the matter. And the thing we call to help us, and keep us company in so great and hazardous an adventure, aught as much as possible may be, lie still in our disposition and absolute power. A I would counsel a gentleman to choose the shortest weapons, and such as he may best assure himselfe-of. It is most apparent, that a man may better assure himself of a sword he holdeth in his hand, then of a bullet shot out of a pistol, to which belong so many several parts, as powder, stone, lock, snap-hanse, barrel, stoke, scowring-piece, and many others, whereof if the least fail, or chance to break, and be distempered, it is able to overthrow, to hazard, or miscarry your fortune. Seldom doth that blow come or light on the mark it is aymedat, which the air doth carry. Et quò ferre velint permittere vulnera a ventis, Lucan. l 8. 384. Ensis habet vires, & gens quaecunque virorum est, Bellae gerit gladij. Giving winds leave to give wounds as they list, But swords have strength, and right men never missed With sword t'assalt, and with sword to resist. But concerning that weapon, I shall more amply speak ofit, where I will make a comparison between ancient and modern arms: And except the astonishment and frighting of the ear, which nowadays is grown so familiar amongst men, that none doth greatly feare-it; I think it to be a weapon of small effect, and hope to see the use ofit abolished. That wherewith the Italians were wont to throw, with sire init, was more frightful and terrour-moving. They were accustomed to name a kind of ●avelin, Phalarica, armed at one end with an iron pike of three foot long, that it might pierce an armed man-through, which lying in the field they used to launch or hurl with the hand, and sometimes to shoot out of certain engines, for to defend besieged places: the staff whereof being wreathed about with hempor flax, all pitched and oiled over, flying in theayre, would soon be set-afre, and lighting upon any body or target, deprived the party ●●t therewith, of all use of weapons or limbs: Me thinks nevertheless, that coming to grapple, it might aswell hind●● the assailant, as trouble the assailed, and that the ground strewed with such burning truncheons, might in a pell-mell-consusion produce a common incommodity — mag●um stridens contorta phalarica venit Virg. Aen. l. 9 705. Fulminis acta modo. With monstrous buzzing came a fire-dart thirled. As if a thunderbolt had there been whirled. They had also other means, to the use of which, custom enured them, and that be reason of inexperience seem incredible to-us; wherewith they supplied the defect of our powder and bullets. They with such fury darted their Piles, and with such force hurled their javelins, that they often pierced two targets and two armed men through, as it were with a spit. They hit as sure and as far with their slings, as with any other shot: Saxis globosis funda, Liu. dec. 4. l. 8. mare apertum incessentes: coronas modici circuli magno ex intervallo loci assueti traijcere: non capita modò hostium vulnerabant, sed quem locum destinassent. While they were boys, with round stones in a sling, making ducks and drakes upon the sea, they accustomed to cast through round marks of small compass a great distance off: whereby they, not only hit and hurt the heads of their enemies, but would strike any place they aymedat. Their battering or murdering pieces represented, as well the effect, as the clattering and thundering noise of ours: ad ictus moenium cum terribili sonitu editos, pavor & trepidatio coepit. At the battery of the walls made wilk a terrible noise, fear and trembling began to attach them within. The Gauls our ancient forefathers in Asia, hated mortally such treacherous and flying weapons, as they that were taught to fight hand to hand, and with more courage. Non tam patentibus plagis moventur, vbila●gior quam Liv. dec. 4. l. 8. altior plaga est, etiam gloriosius se pugnare putant; i●demquum acul●us sagitiae aut glandis abdit● introrsus tenui vulnere in speciem vri●●tum in rabiem & p●●dorem tam paruae periment is pestis versi, prosternunt corpora humi. They are not so much moved with wide gashes, where the wound is more broad than it is deep, there they think, that they fight with more ravery; but when the s●ing of an arrow or a bullet, with a small wound to show galls them inwardly, then falling into rage and shame that so slight a hurt should kill them, they cast their bodies on the ground. A model or picture very near unto an harquebusada. The ten thousand Grecians in their long-lingring, and farre-famous retreat, encountered with a certain nation, that exceedingly much endamaged them with stiff strong and great blows, and so long arrows, that taking them-up, they might throw them after the manner of a dart, & with them pierce a target and an armed man through and through. The engines which Dionysius invented in Siracusa, to shoot and cast mighty big arrows, or rather timber-pieces, & huge-great stones, so far and with such force, did greatly represent, and come very near our modern inventions. We may not also forget, the pleasant seat, which one named master Peter Pol, doctor in divinity used to sit upon his mule, who as Monstrelet reporteth, was wont to ride up and down the streets of Paris, ever sitting sideling, as women use. He also saith in another place, that the Gascoines had certain horses so fiece and terrible, taught to turn and stop suddenly in running, whereat the French, the Piccards, the Flemings, and Brabantins' (as they who were never accustomed to see the like) were greatly amazed, and thought it a wonder: I use his very words. Caelar speaking of those of Swethen, saith, In any skirmish or fight on horseback, they often alight to combat on foot, having so trained and taught their horses, that so long as the fight lasteth, they never budge from their master's side, that if need require, they may suddenly mount-up again: and according to their natural custom, there is nothing accounted more base or vile, then to use saddles or bardels, and they greatly contemn and scorn such as use them: So that a few of them fear not to encounter with a troop far exceeding them in number. That which I have other times wondered-at, to see a horse ●a●●●ioned and taught, that a man having but a wand in his hand, and his bridle loose hanging over his ears, might at his pleasure manage, and make him turn, stop, run, career, trot gallop, and what ever else may be expected of an excellent ready horse, was common amongst the Massilians, who never used either bridle or saddle. Et gens quae nudo residens Massilia dor●o, L●ca●. li. 4. 681 Or a leu●flectit fraenorum n●●cia. virga. Massilian horsemen on bare horse-backe-sit Manage with light rod, without reins or bit. Et Numid● infr●nt cingunt. Vir. Aen. l. 4. 41 Numidians who their horses ride Without bit, round about us bide. Equisine fraenis, deformis ipse cursus, rigida cervise & extent● capite currentium: The horses being without bridles, their course is ill favoured, they running with a stiff neck, and outstretched head (like a roasted Pig:) Alphonsus King of Spain, that first established the order of Knights, called the order of the Bend or scarf, amongst other rules devised this one that none of them, upon pain to forfeit a mark of silver, for every time offending, should ever ride either mule or mulet; as I lately read in Guevaras' epistles, of which whosoever called them his golden epistles, gave a judgement far different from mine. The Courtier saith, That before his time, it was counted a great shame in a gentleman to be seen riding upon a mule: Whereas the Abyssines are of a contrary opinion, who accordingly as they are advanced, to places of honour, or dignity, about their Prince, called Prester-Iohn, so do they more and more affect in sign of pomp and state, to ride upon large-great mules. Xenophon reporteth, that the Assyrians were ever wont to keep their horse's fast-tied in fetters or gyves and ever in the stable, they were so wild and furious. And for that they required so much time to unshackle, and to harnish them, (lest protracting of so long time, might, if they should chance at unawares, and being unready, to be surprised by their enemies, endamage them) they never took up their quarter in any place, except it were well dyked & entrenched: His Cirus, whom he maketh so cunning in horsemanship, did always keep his horses at a certain stint, and would never suffer them to have any meat before they had deserved the same by the sweat of some exercise. If the Scythians in time of war chanced to be brought to any necessity of victuals, the readiest remedy they had, was to let their horse's blood, and there with all quenched their thirst, and nourished themselves. Venit & epoto Sarmata pastus equo Mart spectat. 3 4. The Scythian also came, who strangely feeds On drinking-out his horse (or that he bleeds) Those of Crotta being hardly besieged by Metellus, were reduced to so hard a pinch, and straight necessity of all manner of other beverage, that they were forced to drink the stale or urine of their horses. To verify how much better cheap the Turks do both levy, conduct, and maintain their armies, than we Christians do; They report, that besides their soldiers never drink any thing but water, and feed on nothing but rice, and drie-salt flesh, which they reduce into a kind of powder (whereof every private man doth commonly carry so much about him, as will serve for a months provision) and for a shift, will live a long time with the blood of their horses; wherein they use to put a certain quantity of salt, as the Tartars and Moskovites do. These new discovered people of the Indies, when the Spaniards came first amongst them, esteemed that aswell men as horses, were either gods, or creatures far beyond, and excelling their nature in nobility. Some of which, after they were vanquished by them, coming to sue for peace and beg pardon at their hands, to whom they brought presents of gold, and such viands as their country yielded; omitted not to bring the same, and as much unto their horses, and with as solemn Oration as they had made unto men, taking their neighings, as a language of truce and composition. In the hither Indies, the chief and royalest honour was anciently wont to be, to ride upon an Elephant; the second to go in Coaches drawn with four horses; the third, to ride upon a Camel; the last and basest, was to be carried or drawn by one horse alone. Some of our modern Writers report, to have seen some Countries in that climate, where the people ride oxen, with packe-saddles, stirrups, and bridles, by which they were carried very easily Quintus Fabius Maximus Rutilianus, warring against the Samnites, and seeing that his horsemen, in three or four charges they gave, had miss to break and run through his enemy's battalion, at last resolved thus, that they should all unbridle their horses, and with main force of sharp spurs prick and broach them; which done, the horses as enraged, took such a running, thorough, and athwart the enemy's camp, arms and men, that nought was able to resist them; and with such a fury, that by opening, shouldering, and overthrowing, the battalion, they made way for his Infantry, which there committed a most bloody slaughter, and obtained a notable victory. The like was commanded and effected by Quintus Fulvius Flaccus against the Celtiberians: Id cum maiore vi equorum faciet is, si eff: oenatos Liv. d●●. 4. l. 1●. in hoctes equos immittitis; quod saepe Remanos equites cumlaude fecisse memoriae prod●●um est. Detractisque fraenis bis ultrò curoque cum magna strage hostium, infractis omnibus haste is, transcurrerunt. That shall you do with more violence of horse, if you force your horse unbridled on the enemy; which it is recorded, the Roman horsemen have often performed with great proof and praise. So pulling of the bridles, they twice ran through forward, and back again with great slaughter of the enemy, all their lances broken. The duke of Moscovie did anciently owe this reverence unto the Tartars, at what time soever they sent any Ambassadors to him, that he must go meet them on foot, and present them with a goblet full of mares-milke (a drink counted very delicious amongst them which whilst they were drinking, if any drop chanced to be spilled upon their horses hairs, he was, by duty, bound to lick the same up with his tongue. The army which the Emperor Bajazeth had sent into Russia, was overwhelmd by so horrible a tempest of snow, that to find some shelter & to save themselves from the extremity of the cold, many advised to kill and unpanch their horses, and enter into their paunches, to enjoy and find some ease by that vital heat. Bajazeth after that bloody and tragical conflict wherein he was overthrown by the Scythian Tamburlaine, in seeking to escape, had no doubt saved himself, by the swiftness of an Arabian mare, on which he was mounted that day, if unluckily he had not been forced to let her drink her fill in passing over a river, which made her so faint and foundered, that he was easily overtaken and apprehended by those that pursued him. The common saying is, that to let a horse stale after a full career, doth take down his speed, but I would never have thought that drinking had done it, but rather strengthened and heartened him. Croesus' passing alongst the city of Sardis, found certain thickets, wherein were great store of snakes and serpents, on which his horses fed very hungerly, which thing as Herodotus saith was an ill-boding-prodigie unto his affairs. We call him an entire horse, that hath his full mane, and whole ears, and which in show, or at a muster, doth not exceed others. The Lacedæmonians having defeated the Athenians in Sicilte, returning in great pomp and glory from the victory, into the City of Siracusa, among other Bravadoes of theirs, caused such horses as they had taken from their enemies to be shorn all over, and so led them in triumph. Alexander fought with a nation called Da●as, where they went to war two and two, all armed upon one horse, but when they came to combat, one must alight, and so successively one fought on foot, and the other on horse back, each in his turn one after another. I am persuaded that in respect of sufficiency, of comeliness, & of grace on horseback, no Nation goeth beyond us. A good horseman, (speaking according to our phrase) seemeth rather to respect an undismayed courage, than an affected clean seat. The man most skilful, best and surest-sitting comeliest-graced, and nimblest-handed, to sit, to ride, and manage a horse cunningly, that ever I knew, & that best pleased my humour, was Monsieur de Carnavalet, who was Master of the horse unto our King Henry the second. I have seen a man take his full career, standing boult-up-right on both his feet in the saddle, leap down to the ground fromit, and turning back take-off the saddle, and presently setit on again as fast as ever it was, and then leap into it again, and all this did he whilst his horse was running as fast as might be with his bridle on his neck. I have also seen him ride over a bonnet or cap, and being gone a good distance from it, with his bowshooting backward, to stick many arrows in the same; then sitting still in the saddle to take up any thing from the ground: To set one foot to the ground, and keep the other in the stirrup, and continnally running do a thousand such tumbling and apish tricks, wherewith he got his living. There have in my time two men been seen in Constantinople, both at once upon one horse, and who in his speediest running, would by turns, first one, and then another, leap down to the ground, and then into the saddle again, the one still taking the others place. And another, who only with teeth, and without the help of any hand, would bridle, curry, rub, dress, saddle, girt, and harnish his horse. Another that between two horses, and both saddled, standing upright, with one foot in the one, and the second in the other, did bear another man on his arms, standing upright, run a full speedy course, and the uppermost to shoot and hit any mark with his arrows. Divers have been seen, who standing on their heads, and with their legs out-stretched-aloft, having many sharppointed cimitaries fastened round about the saddle, to gallop a full speed. While I was a young lad, I saw the Prince of Sul●●on● at Naples, manage a young, a rough, and fierce horse, and show all manner of horsemanship; To hold testons or reals under his knees, and toes, so fast, as if they had been nailed there, and all to show his sure, steady, and unmovable sitting. The nine and fortieth Chapter. Of ancient customs, I Would willingly excuse our people for having no other pattern or rule of perfection, but his own customs, his own fashions: For, it is a common vice, not only in the vulgar sort, but as it were in all men, to bend their aim, and frame their thoughts unto the fashons, wherein they were borne. I am pleased when he shall see Fabricius or Laelius, who because they are neither attired nor fashioned according to our manner, that he condemn their countenance to be strange, and their carriage barbarous. But I bewail his particular indiscretion, in that he suffereth himself to be so blinded, and deceived by the authority of present custom, and that if custom pleaseth, he is ready to change opinion, and vary advise, every month, nay every day, and judgeth so diversely of himself. When he wore short-wasted doublets, and but little lower than his breast, he would maintain by militant reasons, that the waste was in his right place: but when not long after he came to wear them so long-wasted, yea almost so low as his privities, than began he to condemn the former fashion, as fond, intolerable and deformed; and to commend the latter, as comely, handsome, and commendable. A new fashion of apparel creepeth no sooner into use, but presently he blameth and dispraiseth the old, and that with so earnest a resolution, and universal a consent, that you would say, it is some kind of madness, or selfe-fond humour, that giddieth his understanding. And for as much as our changing or altering of fashions, is so sudden and newfangled, that the inventions, and new devises of all the tailors in the world, cannot so fast invent novelties, it must necessarily follow that neglected, and stale rejected fashions do often come into credit and use again: And the latest and newest, within a while-after come to be outcast and despised, and that one self same judgement within the space of fifteen or twenty years admitteth, not only two or three different, but also clean contrary opinions, with so light and incredible inconstancy, that any man would wonder at it. There is no man so suttle-crafty amongst us, that suffereth not himself to be enveigled and overreached by this contradiction, and that is not insensibly dazzled, both with his inward and external eyes. I will here huddle-up some few ancient fashions that I remember: Some of them like unto ours, othersome far differing from them: To the end, that having ever this continual variation of human things in our mind, we may the better enlighten and confirm our transported judgement. That manner of fight which we use now adays with rapier and cloak, Caes Bel. ci●. l. 1. was also used among the Romans, as saith Caesar. Sinistris sagos involvunt, gladiosque distringnnt: They wrap their left arms in their cloaks, and draw their sword. We may to this day observe this vice to be amongst us, and which we have taken from them, that is, to stay such passengers as we meet by the way, and force them to tell us, who they are, whence they come, whither they go, and to count it as an injury, and cause of quarrel, if they refuse to answer our demand. In Baths, which our forefathers used daily before meals, as ordinarily as we use water to wash our hands, when first they came into them, they washed but their arms and legs, but afterward (which custom lasted many after-ages; and to this day continueth amongst diverse nations of the world) their whole body over, with compounded and perfumed waters, in such sort as they held it as a great testimony of simplicity, to wash themselves in pure and uncompounded water: Such as were most delicate, and effeminate, were wont to perfume their whole bodies over and over, three or four times every day▪ And often (as our French women have lately taken up) to pick and snip out the hairs of their forehead, so they of all their body. Quod pectus, quod cruratibi, quodbrachia vellis. Mart. lib. 2. epi. 62. 1. That you from breast, legs, arms, the hair Neatly pull off (to make them fair.) Although they had choice of ointments fit for that purpose. Psilotro nitet, aut arida latet abdita creta. Lib. 6. epi. 93. 9 She shines with ointments that make hair to fall, Or with dry chalk she over-covers all. They loved to lie soft, and on fine downe-beds, alleging lying on hard matresses as a sign of patience. They fed lying on their beds, near after the manner of the Turks nowadays. Ind thoro pater Aeneas sic orsus ab alto. Virg. Aen. l. 2. 2 Father Aeneas thus 'gan say, From stately couch where then he lay. And it is reported of Cato junior, that after the battle of Pharsalia, and that he began to mourn and bewail the miserable state of the commonwealth, and ill condition of public affairs, he ever eat sitting on the ground, following an austere, and observing a strict kind of life. The Besolas manos was used as a sign of honour and humility, only toward great persons. If friends met, after friendly salutations, they used to kiss one another, as the Venetians do at this day. Gratatúsque darem cum dulcibus osculaverbis. O●id. Pont. l. 4. 〈…〉 Give her I would with greetings graced, Kisses with sweet words interlaced. And in saluting or suing to any great man, they touched his knees. Pasicles the Philosopher, brother unto Crates, coming to salute one, whereas he should have carried his hand to his knee, carried the same unto his genitories. The party saluted, having rudely pushed him away; What? quoth he, is not that part yours as well as the other? Their manner of seeding was as ours, their fruit last. They were wont to wipe their tails (this vain superstition of words must be left unto women) with a sponge, and that's the reason why Spongia in Latin is counted an obscene word: which sponge was ever tied to the end of a staff, as witnesseth the story of him, that was carried to be devoured of the wild beasts before the people, who desiring leave to go to a privy before his death, and having no other means to kill himself, thrust down the sponge and staff, he found in the privy, into his throat, wherewith he choked himself. Having ended the delights of nature, they were wont to wipe their privities with perfumed wool. At ●●●i nil faciam, sed lot â mentula land. Mart. li. 11. ●. pig. 52. 11. To thee no such thing will I bring, But with washed wool another thing. In every street of Rome were placed tubs, and such vessels for passengers to make waterin. Pusi saepe lacum propter, se ac dolia curta Lu●r. l. 4. 1018. Somno deiuncti credunt extollere veslem. Children asleep oft think they take up all near to some pissing tub, some lake (some wall.) They used to break their fast, and nonchion between meals, and all summer time, had men that sold snow up and down the streets, wherewith they refreshed their wines; of whom some were so dainty, that all winter long they used to put snow into their wine, not deeming it cold enough. Principal, and noble men had their cupbearers, tasters, carvers and buffoons to make them merry. In Winter their viands were brought and set on the board upon arches, as we use chafing disnes; and had portable kitchens (of which I have seen some) wherein might be drawn, wheresoever one list, a whole service and mess of meat. Has vobis epulas habete lauti, Nos offendimur ambulante caena. Mart. l. 7. ● big. 47. 5. Take you daintie-mouthed such stirring feasts; With walking meals we are offended guests. And in summer they often caused cold water (being carried through pipes) to drill upon them as they sat in their dining-chambers, or low parlours, wherein cisterns, they kept store of fish alive, which the bystanders might at their pleasure, choose and take with their hands, and have-it dressed every man according to his fantasy. Fish hath ever had this privilege, as at this day it hath; that chief Gentlemen, are pleased, and have skill to dressit best: And to say truth, the taste of fish is much more delicate and exquisite, then that of flesh at least in mine. But in all manner of magnificence, delitiousnes, riotous gluttony, inventions of voluptuousness, wantonness, and sumptuosity, we truly endeavour, as much as may be, to equal and come near them: For, our will and taste is as much corrupted as theirs, but our skill and sufficiency is far short of them: Our wit is no more capable, and our strength no more able to approach and match them in these vicious and blameworthy parts, then in virtuous and commendable actions: For, both proceed from a vigour of spirit, and farre-reaching wit; which, without comparison, was much greater in them, than now in us. And minds, by how much more strong and excellent they are, so much less faculty and means have they, to do, either excellently well, or notoriously ill. The chiefest aim amongst them was a mean or mediocrity. The Foremost or Last, in writing or speaking, had no signification of pre-eminence or greatness, as may evidently appear by their writings. They would as familiarly and as soon say. Opius and Caesar, as Caesar and Opius; and as indifferently, I and thou, as thou and I. And that's the reason why I have heretofore noted in the life of Flaminius, in our French Plutarch, a place, where it seemeth that the Author, speaking of the jealousy of glory, that was between the Aetolians and the Romans, for the gain of a battle, which they had obtained in common, maketh for the purpose, that in Greek songs the Aetolians were named before the Romans, except there be some amphibology in the French words: for, in that tongue I reade-it. When Ladies came unto slooves or hothouses, they madeit not dainty to admit men into their company, and to be washed, rubbed, chafed and anointed by the hands of their grooms and pages. Inguina succinctus nigrà tibi servus alut à — Stat, quoties calidis nuda foveris aquis. Epig▪ ●▪ 〈…〉 Your man, whose loins black leather guird's, stand's-by, Whilst in warm water you stark-naked lie. They also used to sprinkle themselves all over with certain powders, thereby to allay and repress all manner of filth or sweat. The ancient Gauls (saith Sidonius Apollinaris) wore their hair long before, and all the hinder part of their head shaven, a fashion that our wanton youths and effeminate gallants, have lately renewed, and in this newfangled and fond-doting age, brought up again, with wearing of long-dangling locks before. The ancient Romans, paid the watermen their fare or due so soon as they came into the boat, whereas we payit when they set us on shore. — dumb as exigitur, dum mula ligatur, Hor. l. 1. sat. 5. 13. Tota abit hora. While they call for their fare, tie drawe-mule to, There runn's away, a full hour, if not two. Women were wont to lie on the utmost side of the bed, and therefore was Caesar called Suet jul. Ca● Sponda Regis Nicomedis: King Nicomedes his bed's side: They took breath while they were c. 49. drinking and used to baptise, or put water in their wines. — quis puer ocius Hor. l. 2. ●d. 1●▪ 18. Restinguet ardentis falerni pocula praetereunte limphâ? What boy of mine or thine Shall cool our cup of wine With running water fine? Those cozening and minde-deceiving countenances of lake is were also amongst them O jane, à tergo quem nulla ciconia pinsit Pers. sat. 1. 58. Nec manus auriculas imitata est mobilis albas, Nec linguae quantum sitiet canis Apula tantum. O janus, whom behind no Storks-bill doth deride, Nor nimble hand resembling makes ears white and wide, Nor so much tongue liled out as dogs with thirst o'erdried The Argian and Roman Ladies, mourned in white, as our dames wont to do; and if I might be credited, and bearesway amongst them, they should continue it still. But because there are many books, that treat of this argument I will say no more ofit. The fiftieth Chapter. Of Democritus and Heraclitus. judgement is an instrument for all subjects, and meddleth every where. And therefore in the Essays I make of it, there is no manner of occasion, I seek not to employ therein. If it be a subject I understand not myself, therein I make trial of it, sounding afar off the depth of the ford, and finding the same over deep for my reach, I keep myself on the shore. And to acknowledge not to be able to wade through, is a part of its effect, yea of such whereof he vaunteth most. If I light upon a vain and idle subject, I assay to try, and endeavour to see, whether I may find a good ground to work upon, and matter to frame a body, and wherewith to build and under-lay-it. Sometimes I address my judgement and contrive-it to a noble and outworn subject, wherein is nothing found subsisting of itself, the high way to it, being so bare-trodden, that it cannot march, but in other steps. There he pleaseth himself in choosing the course he thinks best, and a thousand paths sometimes he saith, this or that was best chosen. I take my first Argument of fortune: All are alike unto me: And I never purpose to handle them thoroughly: For, there is nothing wherein I can perceive the full perfection: Which they do not that promise to show itus. Of a hundred parts and visages that every thing hath, I take one, which sometimes I slightly runne-over, and other times but cursorily glance-at. And yet other whilst I pinch it to the quick. And give it a Stockado, not the widest, but the deepest I can. And for the most part I love to seize upon them by some unwonted lustre. I would adventure to treat and discourse of some matter to the depth; knew I myself less, or where I deceived in mine own impuissance; Scattering here one and there another word: Scantlings taken from their main groundwork, disorderly dispersed, without any well-grounded design and promise. I am not bound to make it good, nor without varying to keep myself close tied untoit; whensoever it shall please me to yield myself to doubt, to uncertainty, and to my Mistress form, which is ignorance. Each motion showeth and discovereth what we are. The very same mind of Caesar, we see in directing, marshalling, and setting the battle of Pharsalia, is likewise seen to order, dispose, and contrive, idle, trifling and amorous devises. We judge of a horse, not only by seeing him ridden, and cunningly managed, but also by seeing him troth, or pace; yea, if we but look upon him as he stands in the stable. Amongst the functions of the soul, some are but mean and base. He that seeth her no further, can never know her thoroughly. And he that seeth her march her natural and simple pace, doth peradventure observe her best. The winds of passions take her most in her highest pitch, seeing she entirely coucheth herself upon every matter, and wholly therein exerciseth herself: and handleth but one at once; not according toit, but according to herself. Things several in themselves have peradventure, weight, measure, and condition: But inwardly, in us, she cuttes-it out for them, as she understandeth the same herself. Death is fearful and ugly unto Cicero; wished-for and desired of Cato: and indifferent unto Socrates. Health, welfare, conscience, authority, riches, glory, beauty, and their contraries are despoiled at the entrance, and receive a new vesture at the soul's hand. Yea, and what colour she pleaseth; brown, bright green, sad, or any hue else: sharp or sweet, deep or superficial, and what each of them pleaseth. For, none of them did ever verify their styles, their rules, or forms in common; each on severally is a Queen in her own estate. Therefore let us take no more excuses from external qualites of things. To us it belongeth to give ourselves account of it. Our good, and our evil hath no dependency, but from ourselves. Let us offer our vows and offerings unto it; and not to fortune. She hath no power over our manners. Why shall I not judge of Alexander, as I am sitting and drinking at Table, and talking in good company? Or if he were playing at Chess, what string of his wit doth not touch or harp on this fond-childish, and time-consuming play? I loath and shunne-it, only because there is not sport enough in it, and that in his recreation, he is over serious with us, being ashamed I must apply that attention thereunto, as might be employed on some good subject. He was no more busied in levying his forces and preparing for his glorious passage into India; nor this other in disintangling and discovering of a passage, whence dependeth the welfare and safety of mankind. See how much our mind troubleth this ridiculous ammuzing, if all her sinews bandy not. How amply she giveth every one Law in that, to know and directly to judge of himself. I do not more universally view and feel myself in any other posture. What passion doth not exercise us thereunto? Choler, spite, hatred, impatience, and vehement ambition to overcome, in a matter wherein it were haply more excusable to be ambitious for to be vanquished. For, a rare pre-excellency, and beyond the common reach, in so frivolous a thing, is much misseeming a man of honour. What I say of this example, may be spoken of all others. Every parcel, every occupation of a man, accus th', and showeth him equal unto another. Democritus and Heraclitus were two Philosophers, the first of which, finding and deeming human condition to be vain and ridiculous, did never walk abroad, but with a laughing, scornful and mocking countenance: Whereas Heraclitus taking pity and compassion of the very same condition of ours, was continually seen with a sad, mournful, and heavy cheer, and with tears trickling down his blubbered eyes. Iwen. Sa●. 10. 28. — Alter Ridebat quoties à limine moverat unum Protuleratque pedem, fl bat contrarius alter. One from his door, his foot no sooner passed, But strait he laughed; the other wept as fast. I like the first humour best, not because it is more pleasing to laugh, then to weep; but for it is more disdainful, and doth more condemn us then the other. And me thinks we can never be sufficiently despised, according to our merit. Bewailing and commiseration, are commixed with some estimation of the thing moaned and wailed. Things scorned and contemned, are thought to be of no worth. I cannot be persuaded, there can be so much ill luck in us, as there is apparent vanity, nor so much malice, as sottishness. We are not so full of evil, as of voidness and inanity. We are not so miserable, as base and abject. Even so Diogenes, who did nothing but trifle, toy, and dally with himself, in rumbling and rolling of his tub, and flirting at Alexander, accoumpting us but flies, and bladders puffed with wind, was a more sharp, a more bitter, and a more stinging judge, and by consequence, more jus● and fitting my humour, than Timon, surnamed the hater of all mankind. For look what a man hateth, the same thing he takes to hart. Timon wished all evil might light on-us; He was passionate in desiring our ruin. He shunned and loathed our conversation as dangerous and wicked; and of a depraved nature: Whereas the other so little regarded us, that we could neither trouble nor alter him by our contagion; forsook our company, not for fear, but for disdain of our commerce: He never thought us capable or sufficient to do either good or evil. Of the same stamp was the answer of Statilius to whom Bru●us spoke to win him to take part, and adhere to the conspiracy against Caesar: He allowed the enterprise to be very just, but disallowed of the men that should perform the same, as unworthy that any man should put himself in any adventure for them: Conformable to discipline of Hegesias, who said, That a wise man ought never to do any thing but for himself; forasmuch as he alone is worthy to have any action performed for him: and to that of Theodorus, who thought it an injustice, that a wise man should in any case hazard himself for the good and benefit of his country, or to endanger his wisdom for fools. Our own condition is as ridiculous as risible as much to be laughed at as able to laugh. The one and fiftieth Chapter. Of the vanity of Words. ARethorician of ancient times, said, that his trade was, to make small things appear and seem great. It is a shoemaker, that can make great shoes for a little foot. Had he lived in Sparta, he had doubtless been well whipped, for professing a false, a cozening and deceitful art. And I think, Archidamus King of that City did not without astonishment listen unto the answer of Thucydides, of whom he demanded, whether he, or Pericles, was the strongest and nimblest wrestler; whose answer was this, Your quection Sir, is very hard to be decided; for if in wrestling with him, I give him a fall, with his fair words he persuadeth those that saw him on the ground, that he never fell, and so gets the victory. Those that mask & paint women, commit not so foul a fault, for it is no great loss, though a man see them not, as they were naturally borne and unpainted: Whereas these profess to deceive and beguile, not our eyes, but our judgement; and to bastardise and corrupt the essence of things. Those commonwealths, that have maintained themselves in a regular, formal, and well governed estate, as that of Crete and Lacedaemon, did never make any great esteem of Orators. Ariston did wisely define Rhetoric to be a Science, to persuade the vulgar people: Socrates and Plato, to be an Art to deceive and flatter. And those which deny it in the general description, do every where in their precepts verify the same. The mahometans, by reason of its inutilitie, forbid the teaching of it to their children. And the Athenians, perceiving how pernicious the profession and use thereof was, and of what credit in their City, ordained, that their principal part, which is to move affections, should be dismissed and taken away, together with all exordiums and perorations. It is an instrument devised, to busy, to manage, and to agitate a vulgar and disordered multitude; and is an implement employed, but about distempered and sick minds, as Physic is about crazed bodies. And those where either the vulgar, the ignorant, or the generality have had all power, as that of Rhodes, those of Athens, and that of Rome, and where things have ever been in continual disturbance and uproar, thither have Orators and the professors of that Art flocked. And verily, if it be well looked into, you shall find very few men in those commonwealths, that without help of eloquence have attamed to any worthy estimation and credit: ` Pompey, Caesar, Crassus, Lucullus, Lentulus Metellus, have thence taken their greatest stay and furtherance, whereby they have ascended unto that height and greatness of authority, whereunto they at last attained, and against the opinion of better times have more prevailed with words than with arms. For, L. Volumnius speaking publicly in favour of the election, which some had made of Quintus Fabius, and Publius Decius, to be Consuls; saith thus; They are men borne unto war, of high spirits, of great performance, and able to effect any thing, but rude, simple, and unarted in the combat of talking; minds truly Consulare. They only are good Praetors, to do● justice in the City (saith he) that are subtle, cauteleus, well-spoken, wily and lippe-wise. Eloquence hath chiefly flourished in Rome when the commonwealths affairs have been in worst estate, and that the devouring Tempest of civil broils, and intestine wars did most agitate and turmoil them. Even as a rank, free and untamed soil, beareth the rank est and strongest weeds, whereby it seemeth that those commonweals, which depend of an absolute Monarch, have less need ofit then others: For, that foolishness and facility, which is found in the common multitude, & which doth subject the same, to be managed, persuaded, and led by the ears, by the sweet alluring and sense-entrancing sound of this harmony, without duly weighing, knowing, or considering the truth of things by the force of reason: This facility and easy yielding, I say, is not so easily found in one only ruler, and it is more easy to warrant him from the impression of this poison, by good institution and sound counsel, There was never seen any notable or farre-renowmed Orator to come out of Macedon or Persia. What I have spoken ofit, hath been upon the subject of an Italian, whom I have lately entertained into my service. Who during the life of the whilom cardinal Caraffa served him in the place of steward of his house. inquiring of his charge, and particular quality, he told me, a long, formal, and eloquent discourse of the science or skill of epicurism and gluttony, with such an Oratory-gravitie, and Magistrale countenaunc, as if he had discoursed of some high mysterious point of divinity, wherein he hath very methodically decifred and distinguished sundry differences of appetites: First of that which a man hath fasting, then of that men have after the first, the second, and third service. The several means how sometimes to please-it simply, and other times to sharpen and provoke the same; the policy and rare invention of his sauces: First, in general terms, than part cularizing the qualities and several operations of the ingredients, and their effects: The differences of salads according to their distinct seasons, which must be served in warm, and which cold: The manner how to dress, how to adorn, and embellish them, to make them more pleasing to the sight. After that, he entered into a large and far-fetched narration, touching the true order, and due method of service, full of goodly and important considerations. — Nec minimo sanè discrimine refert, Sat. 5. 127. Quo geslu lepores, & quo gallina secetur. What grace we use, it makes small difference, when We carve a Hare, or else break up a Hen. And all that filled up and stuffed with rich magnificent words, well couched phrases, oratory figures, and pathetical metaphors; yea such as learned men use and employ in speaking of the Government of an Empire, which made me remember my man. Hoc salsum est, hoc adustum est, hoc lautum est parum, Ter. Adel. act. 3. sat. 4. 62. Illudrectè, iterum sic memento, sedulò, Moneo quae possum pro mea sapientia. Postremò tanquam in speculum, in patinas, Demea, Inspicere jubeo, & moneo quid facto usus sit. This dish is salt, this burnt, this not so fine, That is well done, do so again; Thus I As my best wisdom serves, all things assign. Lastly Sir, I command, they neatly pry, On dishes, as a glass, And show what needful was. Yet did those strict Grecians commend the order and disposition, which Paulus Ae●●●●us observed in the banquet he made them at his return from Macedon: But here I speak not of the effects, but of the words. I know not whether they work that in others, which they do in me. But when I hear our Architects mouth-out those big and rattling words of Pilasters, Architraves, Cornixes, Frogtispices, Corinthian, and Doric works and suchlike fustian-termes of theirs, I cannot let my wandering imagination from a sudden apprehension of Apollidonius his palace, and I find by effect, that they are the seely, and decayed pieces of my Kitchin-doore. Do but hear one pronounce Metonymia Metaphor, Allegory, Etymology, and other such trash-names of Grammar, would you not think, they meant some form of a rare and strange language; They are titles and words that concern your chambermaids tittle-tattle. It is a foppery and cheating trick, cousin-Germane unto this, to call the offices of our estate by the proud titles of the ancient Romans, though they have no resemblance at all of charge, and less of authority and power. And this likewise, which in mine opinion will one day remain as a reproach unto our age, unworthily and undeservedly to bestow on whom we list the most glorious Surnames and loftiest titles, wherewith antiquity in many long-continued ages honoured but one or two persons. Plato hath by such an universal consent borne-away the surname of Divine, that no man did ever attempt to envy him for it. And the Italians, which vaunt (and indeed with some reason) to have generally more lively, and far reaching wits, and their discourse more sound and sinnowy, than other nations of their times, have lately therewith embellished Peter Aretine; in whom except it be an high-raised, proudly-pufft, mind-moving, and heart-danting manner of speech, yet in good sooth more than ordinary, witty and ingenious; But so new fangled, so extravagant, so fantastical, so deep-labored; & to conclude, besides the eloquence, which be it as it may be, I cannot perceive any thing in it, beyond or exceeding that of many other writers of his age, much less that it in any sort approacheth that ancient divinity. And the surname Great, we attribute and fasten the same on Princes, that have nothing in them exceeding popular greatness. The two and fiftieth Chapter. Of the parsimony of our Forefathers. ATtilius Regulus, General of the Romans army in Africa, in the midst of his glory and victory against the Carthaginians, writ unto the commonwealth, that a hyne or plough-boy whom he had left alone to oversee and husband his land (which in all was but seven acres of ground) was run away from his charge, & had stolen from him all his implements & tools, belonging to his husbandry, craving leave to be discharged, & that he might come home to look to his business, for fear his wife and children should thereby be endamaged: the Senate took order for him, and appointed another man to look to his land and business, and made that good unto him, which the other had stolen from him, & appointed his wife & children to be maintained at the commonwealths charge. Cato the elder returning Consul from Spain, sold his horse of service, to save the money he should have spent for his transport by sea into Italy: And being chief governor in Sardinia, went all his visitations a foot, having no other train, but one officer of the commonwealth, who carried his gown, and a vessel to do sacrifice in, and for the most part carried his male himself. He boasted that he never wore gown, that cost him more than ten crowns, nor sent morethen one smiling sterling to the market for one whole days provision, & had no Country house rough-cast or painted over. Scipio Aemilianus after he had triumphed twice, and twice been Consul, went on a solemn Legation, accompanied and attended-on only with seven servants. It is reported that Homer had never any more than one servant. Plato three, and Zeno chief of the stoics sect, none at al. Tiberius Gracchus, being then one of the principal men amongst the Romans and sent in commission about weighty matters of the commonwealth was allotted but sixpence halfpenny a day for his charges. The three and fiftieth Chapter. Of a saying of Caesar. IF we shall sometimes ammuse ourselves and consider our estate, and the time we spend in controlling others, and to know the things that are without us; would we but employ the same in sounding ourselves thoroughly, we should easily perceive how all this our contexture is built of weak and decaying pieces. It is not an especial testimony of imperfection, that we cannot settle our contentment on any one thing, and that even of our own desire and imagination, it is beyond our power to choose what we stand in need of? Whereof the disputation that hath ever been amongst Philosophers beareth sufficient witness, to find out the chief felicity or summum bonum of man, and which yet doth, and shall eternally last without resolution or agreement. — àum abest quod avemus, id exuperare videtur juer. li. 3. 25. Caet era, post aliud cum contigit illud avemus, Et sitis aequatenet. While that is absent which we wish, the rest That seems to pass, when aught else is addressed, That we desire, with equal thirst oppressed. Whatsoever it be that falleth into our knowledge and jovissance, we find, it doth not satisfy us, and we still follow and gape after future, uncertain, and unknown things, because the present and unknown please us not, and do not satisfy us. Nor (as I think) because they have not sufficiently wherewith to satiate and please us, but the reason is, that we apprehend and seize on them with an unruly, disordered, and diseased taste and holdfast. Nam cum vidit hic ad usum quae flagitat usus, Luer. lib. 9 Omnia iam fermè mortalibus esse parata, Divitijs homines & honore & laud potentes Affluere, atque bonâ natorum excellere famâ, Nec minus esse domi, cuiquam tamen anxia corda, Atque animum infestis cogi servire querelis: Intellexit ibi vitium va● facere ipsum, Omniáque illius vitio corrumpier in●us Quae collata foris & commoda quaeque venirent. For when the wiseman saw, that all almost, That use requires, for men prepared was, That men enriches, honours, praises boast, In good report of children others pass, Yet none at home did bear less pensive heart, But that the mind was forced to serve complaint, He knew, that fault the vessel did impart, That all was marred within by vessels taint, What ever good was wrought by any art. Our appetite is irresolute, and uncertain; it can neither hold nor enjoy any thing handsomely and after a good fashion. Man supposing it is the vice & fault of things he possesseth, feedeth and filleth himself with other things, which he neither knoweth, nor hath understanding of, whereto he applieth both his desires and hopes, and taketh them as an honour and reverence to himself; as saith Cesar, Communs fit vitio naturae, ut invisis, latit antibus atque in Cas. b●l. civ. li. 2. cognitis rebus magis confidamus, vehementiùsque exterreamur. It happeneth by the common fault of nature, that both we are more confident, and more terrified by things unseen, things hidden, and unknown. The four and fiftieth Chapter. Of vain Subtleties, or subtle Devises. THere are certain frivolus and vain inventions, or as some call them, subtleties of wit, by means of which, some men do often endeavour to get credit and reputation: as diverse Poets, that frame whole volumes with verses beginning with one letter: we see Eggs, Wings, Hatchets, Crosses, Globes, Columns, & diverse other suchlike figures anciently fashioned by the Grecians, with the measure and proportion of their verses, spreading, lengthening, and shortening them, in such sort as they justly represent such and such a figure. Such was the science and profession of him, who long time busied himself, to number how many several ways the letters of the Alphabet might be ranged, and found-out that incredible number mentioned by Plutarch. I allow of his opinion, who having one brought before him, that was taught with such industry, and so curiously to cast a grain of Millet with his hand, that without ever missing, he would every time makeit go through a needles-eye; and being entreated to bestow some thing upon him, (as a reward for so rare a skill,) very pleasantly and worthily, commanded, that this cunning workman should have two or thee pecks of Millet delivered him, to the end his rare art and witty labour might not remain without daily exercise. It is a wonderful testimony of our judgements imbecility, that it should commend and allow of things, either for their rareness, or novelty, or for their difficulty, though neither goodness or profit be joined unto them. We come but now from my house, where we have a while recreated ourselves, with devising who could find out most things, that held by both extreme ends; As for example, Sire, is in our tongue a title only given to the most imminent person of our state, which is the King, and yet is commonly given to some of the vulgar sort, as unto Merchants and peddlers, and nothing concerneth those of the middle sort, and that are between both. Women of chiefest calling and quality are called Dames, the mean sort Damoisels, and those of the basest rank, are also entitled ` Dames. The clothes of estate, which we see set over tables and chairs, are only allowed in Prince's houses, yet we see them used in Taverns. Democritus was wont to say, That Gods and beasts, had quicker senses and sharper wi●s than men, who are of the middle rank. The Romans used to wear one self same garment on mourning and on festival days. It is most certain, that both an extreme fear, and an exceeding heat of courage, do equally trouble and distemper the belly. The nickname of Iremblam, wherewith Zanchi● the twelst King of Navarre was surnamed, teacheth, that boldness, aswell as fear, engender a startling and shaking of the limbs. Those which armed, either him, or any other of like nature, whose skin would quiver, assayed to re-assure him, by diminishing the danger wherein he was like to fall; you have no perfect knowledge of me (said he,) for if my flesh knew how far my courage will erelong carrie-it, it would presently fall into a flat swoon. That chillness, or as I may term it, faintness, which we feel after the exercises of Venus, the same doth also proceed of an over vehement appetite and disordered heat. Excessive heat and extreme cold do both hoile and roast. Aristotle saith, That leaden vessels doc as well melt and consume away by an excessive cold and rigour of winter, as by a vehement heat. Both desire and satiety fill the seats with sorrow, both above and under voluptuousness. Follie and wisdom meet in one point of feeling and resolution, about the suffering of human accidents. The wiser sort doth gourmandise and command evil, and others know it not. The latter, (as a man would say) short of accidents, the other, beyond. Who after they have well weighed and considered their qualities, and duly measured, and rightly judged what they are, overleap them by the power of a vigorous courage. They disdain and tread them under foot, as having a strong and solid mind, against which, if fortunes darts chance to light, they must of necessity be blunted and abated, meeting with so resisting a body, as they cannot pierce, or make any impression therein. The ordinary and mean condition of men abideth between these two extremities; which are those that perceive and have a feeling of mischief's, but can not endure them. Both infancy and decrepitude meet with weakness of the brain. Covetise and profusion in a like desire to acquire and hoard-up. It may with likelihood be spoken, that there is a kind of Abecedarie ignorance, preceding science: an other doctoral, following science: an ignorance, which science doth beget: even as it spoileth the first. Of simple, lesse-curious, and least-instructed spirits are made good christians, who simply believe through reverence and obedience, and are kept in awe of the laws. In the mean vigour of spirits, and slender capacity is engendered the error of opinions: They follow the appearance of the first sense; and have some title to interpret-it foolishness and sottishness, that we are confirmed in ancient ways, respecting us, that are nothing therein instructed by study. The best, most-setled, and clearest-seeing spirits, make another sort of well-beleevers, who by long and religious investigation, penetrate a more profound, and find-out a more abstruse light in scriptures, and discover the mysterious and divine secrets of our ecclesiastical policy. And therefore see we some of them, that have reached unto this last rank, by the second, with wonderful fruit and confirmation; as unto the furthest bounds of christian intelligence: and enjoy their victory with comfort, thansgiving, reformation of manners, and great modesty. In which rank, my purpose is not to place these others, who to purge themselves from the suspicion of their forepast errors, and the better to assure us of them, become extreme, indiscreet, and unjust in the conduct of our cause, and tax and taint the same with infinite reproaches of violence. The simple peasants are honest men; so are Philosophers, (or as our time nameth them, strong and clear natures) enriched with a large instruction of profitable sciences. The mongrel sort of husbandmen, who have disdained the first form of ignorance of letters, and could never reach unto the other (as they that sit between two stools, of which beside so many others I am one) are dangerous, peevish, foolish, and importunate, and they which trouble the world most. Therefore do I (as much as lieth in me) withdraw myself into the first and natural seat, whence I never assayed to depart. Popular and merely natural Poesy, hath certain graces, and inbred liveliness, whereby it concurreth and compareth itself unto the principal beauty of perfect and artificial Poesy, as may plainly be seen in the Villannelles, homely gigs, and country songs of Gasconie, which are brought unto us from Nations, that have no knowledge at all, either of any learning, or so much as of writing. Mean and indifferent Poesy, and that consisteth between both, is scorned, and contemned, and passeth without honour or esteem. But forasmuch as since the passage hath been opened unto the spirit, I have found (as it commonly happeneth) that we had apprehended that which is neither so nor so for a difficult exercise, and of a rare subject; And that since our invention hath been set on fire, it discovereth an infinite number of like examples; I will only add this one: That if these Essays were worthy to be judged-of, it might in mine opinion happen, that they would not greatly please the common and vulgar spirits, and as little the singular and excellent. The first will understand but little of them, the latter overmuch; they might perhaps live and rub out in the middle region. The five and fiftieth Chapter. Of Smells and Odours. IT is reported of some, namely of Alexander, that their sweat, through some rare and extraordinary complexion, yielded a sweet-smelling savour; whereof Plutarch and others seek to find out the cause. But the common sort of bodies are clean contrary, and the best quality they have, is to be clear of any smell at all. The sweetness of the purest breaths hath nothing more perfect in them, then to be without savour, that may offendus: as are those of healthy-sound children. And therefore saith Plautus; Mulier tum benè, olet, ubi nihil olet. Pla●. Mostel. act. 1. sc. 3. Then smell's a woman purely well, When she of nothing else doth smell. The most exquisite and sweetest savour of a woman, it is to smell of nothing; and sweet, well-smelling, strange savours, may rightly be held suspicious in such as use them; and a man may lawfully think, that who useth them, doth-it to cover some natural defect: whence proceed these ancient Poetical sayings. To smell sweet, is to stink, Rides nos Coracine nil olentes, Mart. li. 6. epig. 55. 4 Malo quam benè olere, nil olere, You laugh at us that we of nothing savour, Rather smell so, than sweeter (by your savour.) And else where. Post hume non benè olet, qui benè semper olet. Li. 2. epig. 12. 4. Good fir, he smells not ever sweet, Who smells still sweeter then is meet. Yet love I greatly to be entertained with sweet smells, and hate exceedingly all manner of sour and ill savours, which I shall sooner smell, than any other. — Namque sagacius unus odoror, Hor. epod. 12. 4. Polypus, an gravis hirsutis cubet hircus in alis, quam canis acer ubi lateat sut. Sooner smell I, whether a cankered nose, Or rank gote-smell in hairy armpits lie, Then sharpest hounds, where routing bores repose. The simplest and meerely-naturall smells, are most pleasing unto me; which care ought chiefly to concern women. In the very heart of Barbary, the Scythian women, after they had washed themselves, did sprinkle, daub, and powder all their bodies and faces over, with a certain odoriferous drug, that groweth in their Country: which dust and daubing being taken away, when they come near men, or their husbands, they remain very clean, and with a very sweet-savouring perfume. What odor soever it be, it is strange to see, what hold it will take onme, and how apt my skin is to receive it. He that complaineth against nature, that she hath not created man with a fit instument, to carry sweet smells fast-tied to his nose, is much to blame: for, they carry themselves. As for me in particular, my mostachoes, which are very thick, serve me for that purpose. Let me but approach my gloves or my handkerchief to them, their smell will stick upon them a whole day. They manifest the place I come from. The close-smacking, sweetnesse-moving, love-alluring, and greedismirking kisses of youth, were heretofore wont to stick on them many hours after; yet am I little subject to those popular diseases, that are taken by conversation, and bred by the contagion of the air: And I have escaped those of my time, of which there hath been many and several kinds, both in the Towns about me, and in our Army. We read of Socrates, that during the time of many plagues and relapses of the pestilence, which so often infested the City of Athens, he never forsook or went out of the Town: yet was he the only man, that was never infected, or that felt any sickness. physicians might (in mine opinion) draw more use and good from odours, than they do. For, myself have often perceived, that according unto their strength and quality, they change and alter, and move my spirits, and work strange effects in me: which makes me approve the common saying, that the invention of incense and perfumes in Churches, so ancient and so far-dispersed throughout all nations and religions, had an especial regard to rejoice, to comfort, to quicken, to rouse, and to purify our senses, that so we might be the apt and readier unto contemplation. And the better to judge of it, I would I had my part of the skill, which some Cooks have, who can so curiously season and temper strange odours with the savour and relish of their meats. As it was especially observed in the service of the King of Tunes, who in our days landed at Naples, to meet and enter-parly with the Emperor Charles the fifth. His viands were so exquisitely farced, and so sumptuously seasoned with sweet odoriferous drugs, and aromatical spices, that it was found upon his book of account, the dressing of one peacock, and two pheasants amounted to one hundred ducats; which was their ordinary manner of cooking his meats. And when they were carved-up, not only the dining chambers, but all the rooms of his palace, and the streets round aboutit were replenished with an exceeding odoriferous and aromatical vapour, which continued a long time after. The principal care I take, wheresoever I am lodged, is to avoid, and be far from all manner of filthy, foggy, ill-savouring, and unwholesome airs. These goodly Cities of strangely-seated Venice, and huge-built Paris, by reason of the muddy, sharp, and offending savours, which they yield; the one by her fenny and marish situation, the other by her du●tie uncleanness, and continual mire, do greatly alter and diminish the favour which I bear them. The six and fiftieth Chapter. Of Prayers and Orisons. I Propose certain formelesse and irresolute fantasies, as do those scholars, who in schools publish doubtful and sophistical questions to be disputed and canvased: not to establish the truth, but to findit out: which I submit to their judgements, to whom the ordering and directing, not only of my actions and compositions, but also of my thoughts, belongeth. The condemnation, as well as the approbation of them, will be equally acceptable and profitable unto me, deeming-it absurd and impious, if any thing be, either ignorantly, or unadvisedly set down in this rhapsody, contrary unto the sacred resolutions, and repugnant to the holy prescriptions of the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman Church, wherein I was borne, and out of which I purpose not to die. And therefore always referring myself unto their censures that have all power over me, do I meddle so rashly, to write of all manner of purposes and discourses, as I do here. I wot not whether I be deceived, but sithence, by an especial and singular favour of God's divine bounty, a certain form of Prayer, hath, by the very mouth of God, word by word been prescribed & directed unto us, I have ever thought the use ofit, should be more ordinary with us, than it is. And might I be believed, both rising and going to bed, sitting down and rising from board, and going about any particular action or business, I would have all good Christians, to say the Pater noster, and if no other prayer, at least not to omit that. The Church may extend, amplify, and diversify prayers according to the need of our instruction: For, I know it is always the same substance, and the same thing. But that one should ever have this privilege, that all manner of people, should at all times, and upon every occasion have it in their mouth: For, it is most certain, that only it containeth whatsoever we want, and is most fit, and effectual in all events. It is the only prayer I use in every place, at all times, and upon every accident; and in stead of changing, I use often repetition of it: whence it cometh to pass, that I remember none so well as that one. I was even now considering, whence this general error cometh, that in all our designs and enterprises, of what nature soever, we immediately have recourse unto God, and in every necessity, we call upon his holy name: And at what time soever we stand in need of any help, and that our weakness wanteth assistance, we only invoke him, without considering whether the occasion be just or unjust; and what estate or action we be in, or go about, be it never so vicious or unlawful, we call upon his name and power. Indeed, he is our only protector, and of power to affoord-us all manner of help and comfort; but although he vouchsafe to honour us with this joy-bringing fatherly adoption, yet is he as just as he is good; and as good and just, as he is mighty: But oftener useth his justice than his might, and favoureth us according to the reason of the same, and not according to our requests. Plato in his laws maketh three sorts of injurious belief in the Gods: First, that there is none at all; Secondly, that they meddle not with our affairs; Thirdly, that they never refuse any thing unto our vows, offerings, and sacrifices. The first error, according to his opinion, did never continue immutable in man, even from his first infancy unto his latter age. The two succeeding may admit some constancy. His justice and power are inseparable. It is but in vain to implore his power in a bad cause. Man must have an unpolluted soul when he prayeth (at least in that moment he addresseth himself to pray) and absolutely free from all vicious passions; otherwise we ourselves present him the rods to scourge us withal. In lieu of redressing our fault, we redouble the same, by presenting him with an affection fraught with irreverence, sin, and hatred, to whom only we should sue for grace and forgiveness. Loe-heere, why I do not willingly commend those Pharisaical humours, whom I so often behold, and more than ordinary, to pray unto God, except their actions immediately preceding or succeeding their prayers witness some show of reformation or hope of amendment. — Si nocturnus adulter juven. sat. 8. 144. Tempora sanctonico velas adoperta cucullo. If in a cape-cloake-hood befrenchifide Thou a night-whore-munger thy head dost hide. And the state of a man that commixeth devotion unto an execrable life, seemeth in some sort to be more condemnable, then that of one, that is conformable unto himself, and every way dissolute. Therefore doth our Church continually refuse, the favour of her entrance and society, unto customs and manners, wilfully-obstinate on some egregious villainy. We only pray by custom and use, and for fashion-sake, or to say better, we but read and pronounce our prayers: To conclude, it is nothing but a show of formality, and a formal show. And it greeveth me to see many men, who at grace before and after meat, will with great show of devotion, cross themselves three or four times, (and it vexeth me so much the more, when I call to mind, that it is a sign I greatly reverence, and have in continual use, yea, if I be but gaping) and therewhilst, shall you see them bestow all other hours of the day in all manner of hatred, malice, covetousness, and injustice. Many hours spend they about vice, but one to God, and that as it were by way of recompense and composition. It it wondrous to see, so far different and diverse actions, continue with so even a tenor, that no interruption or alteration at all can be perceived, either about their confines, or passage from one unto another. What prodigious conscience can be at any harts-case, fostering, and feeding with so mutual, quiet, and agreeing society in one self same mansion, both crime and judge? A man whose Paillardize and juxurie, doth uncessantly sway and rule the head, and who judgeth the same ab hominable and most hateful in the sight of God; what saith he unto his allseeing Majesty, when he openeth his lips, either of mouth or hart, to speak to him ofit? He reclaimeth himself, but falleth suddenly again. If the object of his divine justice, and his presence should strike, (as he saith) and chastise his soul, how short-soever the penitence were; fear itself would so often cast his thought onit, that he would presently perceive himself master of those vices, which are habituated▪ inbred, settled, and enfleshed in him. But what of those, which ground a whole life upon the fruit and benefit of that sin, they know to be mortal? How many trades, professions, occupations, and vacations, have we daily and continually used, frequented, and allowed amongst us, whose essence is vicious and most pernicious? And he that would needs confess himself unto me, and of his own accord told me, that for fear of losing his credit, and to keep the honour of his offices; he had for a whole age, made show and profession, and acted the effects of a religion, which in his own self-accusing conscience, he judged damnable, and clean contrary unto that he had in his hart: How could he admit and foster so contradictory and impious a discourse in his hart? With what language entertain they divine justice concerning this subject? Their repentance, consisting in visible amends, and manageable reparation; they lose both towards God and us, the means to allege the same. Are they so malapert and fond-hardie as to crave pardon without satisfaction, and sans repentance? I think it goeth with the first, as with these last: But obstinacy is not herein so easy to be vanquished. This so sudden contrariety, and violent volubility of opinion, which they faine-unto-us, seemeth to me a miracle. They presentus with the state of an indigestible agony. How santasticall seemed their imagination unto me, who these latter years had taken up a fashion, to check and reprove all men, that professed the Catholic Religion, in whom shined any extraordinary brightness of spirit, saying, that it was but feigned: and to do him honour, held, that whatsoever he said in appearance, he could not inwardly choose but have his belief reform according to their byase. It is a peevish infirmity, for a man to think himself so firmly grounded, as to persuade himself, that the contrary may not be believed: And more peevish also, to be persuaded by such a spirit, that preferreth I wot not what disparity of fortune, before the hopes and threats of eternal life, They may believe me: If any thing could have attempted my youth, the ambition of the hazard, and difficulty, which followed this late-moderne enterprise, should have had good part therein. It is not without great reason, in my poor judgement, that the Church forbiddeth the confused, rash and indiscreet use of the sacred and divine songs, which the holy spirit hath indicted unto David. God ought not to be commixed in our actions, but with awful reverence, and an attention full of honour and respect. The word or voice is too divine, having no other use but to exercise our lungs, and to please our ears. It is from the conscience and not from the tongue that it must proceed. It is not consonant unto reason, that a prentice or shop-keeping boy, amidst his idle, vain, and frivolous conceits, should be suffered to entertain himself, and play therewith. Nor is it seemly, or toollerable, to see the sacred book of our beliefes-Mysteries, tossed up and down and played withal, in a shop, or a hall, or a kitchen. They have heretofore been accounted mysteries, but through the abuse of times, they are now held as sports and recreations. So serious, and venerable a study should not, by way of pastime, and tumultuary be handled. It ought to be a fixed, a purposed, and settled action, to which this preface of our office sursum corda should ever be adjoined; and the very exterior parts of the body, should with such a countenance, be referred unto it, that to all men's eyes it may witness a particular attention and duteous respect. It is not a a study fitting all men, but only such as have vowed themselves untoit, and whom God hath, of his infinite mercy, called thereto. The wicked, the ungodly, and the ignorant are thereby impaired. It is no history to be fabulously reported, but a history to be dutifully reverenced, awfully feared, and religiously adored. Are they not pleasantly conceited, who because they have reduced the same into the vulgar tongues, and that all men may understandit, persuade themselves, that the people shall the better conceive and digest the same? Consisteth-it but in the words, that they understand not all they find written? Shall I say more? By approaching thus little unto it, they go back from it. Mere ignorance, and wholly relying on others, was verily more profitable and wiser, than is this verbal, and vain knowledge, the nurse of presumption, and source of temerity. Moreover, I am of opinion, that the uncontrolled liberty, that all men have to wrest, dissipate, and wyre-draw a word so religious, and important, to so many several idioms, hath much more danger than profit following-it. The jews, the Mahometans, and well-nigh all other nations, are wedded unto, and reverence the language, wherein their mysteries and religion had originally been conceived; and any change or translation hath not without appearance of reason been directly forbidden. Know we whether there be judges enough in Basque and in Brittany to establish this translation made in their tongue? The universal Church hath no more difficult and solemn judgement to make. Both in speaking and preaching the interpretation is wandering, free, and mutable, and of one parcel; so is it not alike. One of our Grecian Historians, doth justly accuse his age, for as much as the secrets of Christian religion were dispersed in all public places, and even amongst the basest artificers; and that every man might, at his pleasure, dispute of it, and at random speak his mind of the same. And it should be a great shame for us, who by the unspeakable grace of God enjoy the pure and sacred mysteries of piety, to suffer the same to be profaned in the mouths of ignorant and popular people, seeing the very Gentiles interdicted Socraetes and Plato, and the wisest, to meddle, inquire or speak of things committed unto the Priests of Delphos. Saying moreover, That the factions of Princes, touching the subject of Divinity, are armed, not with Zeal, but with anger. That zeal dependeth of divine reason and justice, holding an orderly and moderate course, but that it changeth into hatred and envy, and in steed of corn and grape, it produceth nettles and darnel, if it be directed by human passion. And justly saith this other, who counseling the Emperor Theodosius, affirmed that disputations, did not so much appease and ●ull asleep the schisms of the Church, as stir up and cause horesies. And therefore it behoved, to avoid all contentions, controversies, and logical arguings, and wholly and sincerely refer himself unto the prescriptions and orders of faith, established by our forefathers. And Andronicus the Emperor, finding by chance in his palace, certain principal men very earnestly disputing against Lapodius, about one of our points of great importance, taunted & rated them very bitterly, and threatened if they gave not over, he would cause them to be cast into the river. Children and women do nowadays govern and sway the oldest and most experienced men concerning Ecclesiastical Laws: whereas the first that Plato made, forbiddeth them to inquire after the reason of civil Laws, and which ought to stand in place of divine ordinances. Allowing aged men to communicate the same amongst themselves, and with the Magistrate, adding moreover, always provided it be not in the presence of young men, and before prosane persons. A notable Bishop hath left written, that in the other end of the world, there is an Island called of our predecessors Dioscorida, very commodious, and fertile of all sorts of fruits and trees, and of a pure and wholesome air; whose people are Christians, and have Churches and Altars; adorned with nothing else but crosses, without other images; great observers of fastings and holy days; exact payers of their priests tithes; and so chaste, that none of them may lawfully all his life long know any more than one wife. And in all other matters so well pleased with their fortune, that being seated in the midst of the sea, they have and know no use of ships: and so simple, that of their religion, which they so diligently and awfully observe, they know not, nor understand so much as one only word. A thing incredible, to him that know not how the Pagans, who are so devout and zealous idolaters, know nothing of their Gods, but only their bare names and statues. The ancient beginning of Menalippe, a tragedy of Euripides, importeth thus. Eurip. O jupiter, car de toy rien sinon, je ne cogn●is seulement que le nom. O jupiter, for unto me, Only the name is known of thee. I have also in my time heard certain writings complained-of, forsomuch as they are merely human and Philosophical, without meddling with divinity. He that should say to the contrary (which a man might do with reason) that heavenly doctrine, as a Queen and governess doth better keep her rank apart; that she ought to be chief ruler and principal head every where, and not suffragant and subsidiary. And that peradventure examples in Grammar, Rhetoric, and Logic, might more fitly and sortably be taken from elsewhere, then from so sacred and holy a subject, as also the arguments of theaters, plots of plays, and grounds of public spectacles. That mysteriously-divine reasons are more venerably and reverently considered alone, and in their native style, then joined and compared to human discourse. That this fault is oftener seen, which is, that Divines write too humanly, than this other, that humanists write not Theologically enough. Philosophy, saith S. chrysostom, is long since baenished from sacred schools, as an unprofitable servant, and deemed unworthy to behold, but in passing by the entry, or the vestry of the sacred treasures of heavenly doctrine. That the forms of human speech, are more base, and aught by no means to make any use of the dignity, majesty, and pre-eminence of divine speech. As for my part, I give it leave to say, Verbis indisciplinatis, with undisciplined words, Fortune, destiny, chance, accident, fate, good luck, ill luck, the Gods, and other phrases, as best it pleaseth. I propose human fantasies and mine own, simply as human conceits, and severally considered; not as settled, concluded, and directed by celestial ordinance, incapable of any doubt or alteration. A matter of opinion, and not of faith. What I discourse according to myself, not what I believe according unto God, with a laical fashion, and not a clerical manner; yet ever most religious. As children propose their essays, instructable, not instructing. And might not a man also say without appearance, that the institution, which willeth, no man shall dare to write of Religion, but sparingly, and reservedly, except such as make express profession of it, would not want some show of profit and justice; and happily to me to be silent. It hath been told me, that even those which are not of our consent, do flatly inhibit amongst themselves the use of the sacred name of God in all their vulgar and familiar discourses. They would have no man use it as an interjection, or exclamation, nor to be alleged as a witness, or compariton; wherein I find they have reason. And howsoever it be, that we call God to our commerce and society, it should be zealously, seriously, and religiously. There is (as far as I remember) such a like discourse in Xenophon, wherein he declareth, That we should more rarely pray unto God: for as much as it is not easy, we should so often settle our minds in so regular, so reform, and so devout a seat, where indeed it ought to be, to pray aright and effectually: otherwise our prayers are, not only vain and unprofitable, but vicious. Forgive us (say we) our offences, as we forgive them that trespass against us. What else infer we by that petition, but that we offer him our soul void of all revenge and free from all rancour? We nevertheless invoke God and call on his aid, even in the complot of our grievousest faults, and desire his assistance in all manner of injustice and iniquity. Quae nisi seductis nequeas committere divis. Pers. sat. 2. 4. Which you to Saints not drawn aside, Would think unfit to be applied. The covetous man sueth and prayeth unto him for the vain increase and superfluous preservation of his wrong-gotten treasure. The ambitious, he importuneth God for the conduct of his fortune, and that he may have the victory of all his designs. The thief, the pirate, the murderer, yea and the traitor, all call upon him, all implore his aid, & all solicit him, to give them courage in their attempts, constancy in their resolutions, to remove all lets and difficulties, that in any sort may withstand their wicked executions, and impious actions; or give him thanks, if they have had good success; the one if he have met with a good booty, the other if he return home rich, the third if no man have seen him kill his enemy, and the last, though he have caused any execrable mischief. The Soldier, if he but go to besiege a cottage, to scale a Castle, to rob a Church, to pettard a gate, to force a religious house, or any villainous act, before he attempt-it, prayeth to God for his assistance, though his intents and hopes be full-fraught with cruelty, murder, covetise, luxury, sacrilege, and all iniquity. Hoc ipsum quo in jovis aurem impellere tentas, Dic agedum, Staio, proh jupiter, o bone, clamet, 21. jupiter, at sese non clamet jupiter ipse. Go-to then, say the same to some bad fellow, Which thou preparest for God's ears: let him bellow, O God, good God; so God, On himself would not plod. Margaret Queen of Navarre, maketh mention of a young Prince (whom although she name not expressly, yet his greatness hath made him sufficiently known) who going about an amorous assignation, and to lie with an Advocate's wife of Paris, his way lying alongst a Church, he did never pass by so holy a place, whether it were in going or coming from his lechery, and cukolding-labour, but would make his prayers unto God, to be his help and furtherance. I would feign have any impartial man tell me, to what purpose this Prince invoked and called on God for his divine favour, having his mind only bend to sin, and his thoughts set on luxury: Yet doth she allege him for a special testimony of singular devotion. But it is not only by this example, a man might verify, that women are not very fit to manage or treat matters of Religion and Divinity. A true and hearty prayer, and an unfeigned religious reconciliation from us unto God, cannot likely fall into a wicked and impure soul, especially when Satan swayeth the same. He that calleth upon God for his assistance, whilst he is engulphed and wallowing in filthy sin, doth as the cutpurse, that should call for justice unto his aid, or those that produce God in witness of a lie. — tacito mala vota susurro Lucan. li. 5. 94. Concipimu●. With silent whispering we, For ill things suppliants be. There are few men, that would dare to publish the secret requests they make to God. Haud cuivis promptum est, murmúrque humilésque susurros Pers. sat. 2. 6. Tollere de Templis, & aperto vivere voto. From Church low-whispering murmurs to expel, 'tis not for all, or with known vows live well. And that's the reason, why the Pithagorians would have them public, that all might hear them, that no man should abusively call on God, and require any undecent or unjust thing of him, as that man; — clarè cum dixit, Apollo, Hor. lib. 1. epist. 16. 59 Labra movet metuens audiri: pulchra Laverna Da mihi fallere, da justum sanctúmque videri. Noctem peccatis, & fraudibus ●bijce nubem. When he aloud hath said, Apollo hear, Loath to be heard, Goddess of thieves, said he, Grant me to cousin, and yet just appear, My faults in night, my fraud's in clouds let be. The Gods did grievously punish the impious vows of Oedipus, by granting them unto him. His prayer was, that his children might between themselves decide in arms the succession of his estate; he was so miserable, as to be taken at his word. A man should not request that all things follow our will, but that it may follow wisdom. Verily, it seemeth, that we make no other use of our prayers, then of a company of gibberish phrases: And as those who employ holy and sacred words about witchcraft and magical effects; and that we imagine their effect dependeth of the contexture, or sound, or succession of words, or from our countenance. For, our soul, being full-fraught with concupiscence, and all manner of ungodly thoughts, nothing touched with repentance, nor moved with new reconciliation towards God, we headlong present unto him those heedless words, which memory affordeth our tongue, by which we hope to obtain an expiation and remission of our offences. There is nothing so easy, so sweet, so comfortable and favourable, as the law of God; she (of his infinite mercy) calleth us unto him, how faulty and detestable soever we be; she gently stretcheth forth her arms unto us, and mildly receiveth us into her lap, how guilty, polluted, and sinful soever we are, and may be in aftertimes. But in recompense of so boundless and unspeakable a favour, she must be thankfully accepted, and cheerfully regarded: and so gracious a pardon must be received with a gratitude of the soul, and at least, in that instant, that we address ourselves unto her presence; to have our soul grieved for her faults, penitent of her sins, hating those passions and affections, that have caused or provoked us to transgress his laws, to offend his Majesty, and to break his commandments. Plato saith, That neither the Gods, nor honest men will ever accept the offering of a wicked man. Immunis aram si tetigit manus, Li. 3. od. 23. 17. Non sumptuosa blandior hostia Mollivit aversos Penates, far pio & saliente mica. If guiltless hand the Altar tuch, No offering, cost it ne'er so much, Shall better please our God offended, Then corn with crackling-corne-salt blended. The seven and fiftieth Chapter. Of Age. I Cannot receive that manner, whereby we establish the continuance of our life. I see that some of the wiser sort do greatly shorten the same, in respect of the common opinion. What said Cato junior, to those who sought to hinder him from killing himself? Do I now live the age, wherein I may justly be reproved to leave my life too soon? Yet was he but eight and forty years old. He thought that age very ripe, yea, and well advanced, considering how few men come untoit. And such as entertain themselves with, I wot not what kind of course, which they call natural, promiseth some few years beyond, might do-it, had they a privilege that could exempt them from so great a number of accidents, unto which each one of us stands subject by a natural subjection, and which may interrupt the said course, they propose unto themselves. What fondness isit, for a man to think he shall die, for, and through, a failing and defect of strength, which extreme age draweth withit, and to propose that term unto our life, seeing it is the rarest kind of all deaths, and least in use? We only call it natural, as if it were against nature to see a man break his neck with a fall; to be drowned by shipwreck; to be surprised with a pestilence, or pleurisy, and as if our ordinary condition did not present these inconveniences unto us all. Let us not flatter ourselves with these fond-goodly words; a man may peradventure rather call that natural, which is general, common and universal. To die of age, is a rare, singular, and extraordinary death, and so much less natural than others: It is the last and extremest kind of dying: The further it is from us, so much the less is it to be hoped for: Indeed it is the limit, beyond which we shall not pass, and which the law of nature hath prescribed unto us, as that which should not be outgon by any; but it is a rare privilege peculiar unto herself, to make us continue untoit. It is an exemption, which through some particular favour she bestoweth on some one man, in the space of two or three ages, discharging him from the crosses, troubles, and difficulties, she hath enterposed between both, in this long career and pilgrimage. Therefore my opinion is, to consider, that the age unto which we are come, is an age whereto few arrive: since men come not unto it by any ordinary course, it is a sign we are very forward. And since we have passed the accustomed bounds, which is the true measure of our life, we must not hope, that we shall go much further. Having escaped so many occasions of death, wherein we see the world to fall, we must acknowledge that such an extraordinary fortune, as that is, which maintaineth us, and is beyond the common use, is not likely to continue long. It is a fault of the very laws, to have this false imagination: They allow not a man to be capable and of discretion, to manage and dispose of his own goods, until he be five and twenty years old, yet shall he hardly preserve the state of his life so long. Augustus abridged five years of the ancient Roman Laws, and declared, that for any man that should take upon him the charge of judgement, it sufficed to be thirty years old. Servius Tullius dispensed with the Knights, who were seven and forty years of age, from all voluntary services of war. Augustus' brought them to forty and five. To send men to their place of sojourning before they be five and fifty or three score years of age, me seemeth, carrieth no great appearance withit. My advice would be, that our vacation, and employment should be extended as far as might be for the public commodity; but I blame some, and condemn most, that we begin not soon enough to employ ourselves. The same Augustus had been universal and supreme judge of the world, when he was but nineteen years old, and would have another to be thirty, before he shall be made a competent judge of a cottage or farm. As for my part, I think our minds are as full grown and perfectly jointed at twenty years, as they should be, and promise as much as they can. A mind which at that age hath not given some evident token or earnest of her sufficiency, shall hardly giveit afterward; put her to what trial you list. Natural qualities and virtues, if they have any vigorous or beauteous thing in them, will produce and show the same within that time, or never. They say in Daulphiné, Si l'espine now picque quand nai, French. prov. A pain que picque iamai. A thorn, unless at first it prick, Will hardly ever pierce to th' quick. Of all human honourable and glorious actions, that ever came unto my knowledge, of what nature soever they be, I am persuaded, I should have a harder task, to number those, which both in ancient times, and in ours, have been produced and achieved before the age of thirty years, than such as were performed after: yea, often in the life of the same men. May not I boldly speak it of those of Hannibal, and Scipio his great adversary? They lived the better part of their life with the glory which they had gotten in their youth: And though afterward they were great men, in respect of all others, yet were they but mean in regard of themselves. As for my particular, I am verily persuaded, that since that age, both my spirit and my body, have more decreased then increased, more recoiled then advanced. It may be, that knowledge and experience shall increase in them, together with life, that bestow their time well: but vivacity, promptitude, constancy, and other parts much more our own, more important and more essential, they droop, they languish, and they faint. — ubi iam validis quassatum est viribus aevi Lucr. li. 3. 457. Corpus, & obtusis ceciderunt viribus artus, Claudicat ingenium, delirat linguáquè ménsque. Whence once the body by shrewd strength of years Is shaked, and limbs drawne-downe from strength that wears, Wit halts, both tongue and mind Do daily dote, we find. It is the body, which sometimes yieldeth first unto age; and other times the mind: and I have seen many, that have had their brains weakened before their stomach or legs. And forasmuch, as it is a disease, little or nothing sensible unto him that endureth-it, and maketh no great show, it is so much the more dangerous. Here I exclaim against our Laws, not because they leave us so long, and late in working and employment, but that they set us a work no sooner, and it is so late before we be employed. Me thinks that considering the weakness of our life, and seeing the infinite number of ordinary rocks, and natural dangers it is subject unto, we should not so soon as we come into the world, allot so great a share thereof unto unprofitable wantonness in youth, il-breeding idleness, and slow-learning prentissage. The end of the first Book. THE ESSAYS OR MORAL, POLITIC AND MILITARY Discourses Of LO. MICHAEL de Montaigne, Knight Of the noble Order of St. MICHAEL, and one of the Gentlemen in Ordinary of the French king HENRY the Third his Chamber. THE SECOND BOOK. 1613. THE ESSAYS OF MICHAEL LORD OF MONTAIGNE. The second Book. The first Chapter. Of the inconstancy of our actions. THose which exercise themselves in controlling human actions, find no such let in any one part, as to piece them together, and bring them to one same lustre: For, they commonly contradict one an other so strangely, as it seemeth impossible they should be parcels of one Warehouse. Young Marius▪ is sometimes found to be the son of Mars, and other times the child of Venus. Pope Bonifae● the Eight, is reported to have entered into his charge, as a Fox; to have carried himself therein, as a Lion; and to have died like a dog. And who would think it was Nero, that lively image of cruelty, who being required to sign (as the custom was) the sentence of a criminal offendor, that had been condemned to die, that ever he should answer? Oh would to God I could never have written! So near was his heart grieved to doom a man to death. The world is so full of such examples, that every man may store himself; and I wonder to see men of understanding trouble themselves with sorting these parcels: Since (me seemeth) irresolution is the most apparent and common vice of our nature; as witnesseth that famous verse of Publius the Comedian: Malum consilium est, quod mutari non potest. The counsel is but bad, Pub. Mi●. Whose change may not be had. There is some appearance to judge a man by the most common conditions of his life; but seeing the natural instability of our customs and opinions; I have often thought, that even good Authors do ill, and take a wrong course, wilfully to opinionate themselves about framing a constant and solid contexture of us. They choose an universal air, and following that image, range and interpret all a man's actions; which if they cannot wrest sufficiently, they remit them unto dissimulation. Augustus hath escaped their hands; for there is so apparent, so sudden and continual a variety of actions found in him, through the course of his life, that even the boldest judges and strictest censurers, have been feign to give him over, and leave him undecided. There is nothing I so hardly believe to be in man, as constancy, and nothing so easy to be found in him, as inconstancy. He that should distinctly and part by part, judge of him, should often jump to speak truth. View all antiquity over, and you shall find it a hard matter, to choose out a dozen of men, that have directed their life unto one certain, settled, and assured course; which is the surest drift of wisdom. For, to comprehend all in one word, saith an ancient writer, and to embrace all the rules of our life into one, it is at all times to will, and not to will one same thing. I would not vouchsafe, (saith he) to add anything; always provided the will be just: for, if it be unjust, it is impossible it should ever continue one. Verily, I have heretofore learned, that vice is nothing but a disorder, and want of measure, and by consequence, it is impossible to fasten constancy unto it. It is a saying of Demosthenes, (as some report,) That consultation and deliberation, is the beginning of all virtue; and constancy, the end and perfection. If by reason or discourse we should take a certain way, we should then take the fairest: but no man hath thought on it. Quod petijt, sper●●, repetit quod nuper omisit, Hor. l. 1. epist. 1. 98. Astuat, & vitae disconvenit or dine toto. He scorns that which he sought, seek's that he scorned of late, He flows, ebbs, disagrees in his life's whole estate. Our ordinary manner is to follow the inclination of our appetite, this way and that way; on the left, and on the right hand; upward and downward, according as the wind of occasions doth transport us: we never think on what we would have, but at the instant we would have it: and change as that beast that takes the colour of the place wherein it is laid. What we even now purposed, we alter by and by, and presently return to our former bias: all is but changing, motion, and inconstancy: Ducimur ut nervis alienis mobile lignum. 〈◊〉. sat. 7. 82. So are we drawn, as wood is shooved, By others sinews each way moved. We go not, but we are carried: as things that float, now gliding gently, now hulling violently; according as the water is, either stormy or calm. — nónne videmus Quid sibi quisque velit nescire & quaerere semper, Luer. l. 3▪ 1100 Commutare locum quasi onus deponere possit? See we not, every man in his thoughts height Knows not what he would have, yet seeks he strait To change place, as he could lay down his weight? Every day new toys, each hour new fantasies, and our humours move and fleet with the fleetings and move of time. Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali Pater ipse Cic. Fr●g●. jupiter auctifero lustravit lumine terras. Such are men's minds, as that great God of might Survaies the earth with increase bearing light. We float and waver between diverse opinions: we will nothing freely, nothing absolutely, nothing constantly. Had any man prescribed certain Laws, or established assured policies in his own head; in his life should we daily see, to shine an equality of customs, an assured order, and an infallible relation from one thing to another (Empedocles noted this deformity to be amongst the Agrigentines, that they gave themselves so over unto delights, as if they should die tomorrow next, and built as if they should never die) the discourse thereof were easy to be made. As is seen in young Cato: He that touched but one step of it, hath touched all. It is an harmony of well according tunes and which cannot contradict itself. With us it is clean contrary, so many actions, so many particular judgements are there required. The surest way (in mine opinion) were to refer them unto the next circumstances, without entering into further search, and without concluding any other consequence of them. During the late tumultuous broils of our mangled estate, it was told me, that a young woman, not far from me, had headlong cast herself out of a high window, with intent to kill herself, only to avoid the ravishment of a rascaly-base soldier, that lay in her house, who offered to force her: and perceiving that with the fall she had not killed herself, to make an end of her enterprise, she would have cut her own throat with a knife, but that she was hindered by some that came-into her: Nevertheless having sore wounded herself, she voluntarily confessed, that the Soldier had yet but urged her with importunate requests, suing-solicitations, and golden bribes▪ but she feared he would in the end have obtained his purpose by compulsion: by whose earnest speeches, resolute countenance, and gored blood (a true testimony of her chaste virtue) she might appear to be the lively pattern of an other Lucrece, yet know I certainly, that both before that time, and afterward, she had been enjoyed of others upon easier composition. And as the common saying is; Fair and soft, as squemish-honest as she seems, although you miss of your intent, conclude not rashly an inviolable chastity to be in your Mistress; For, a groom or a horsekeeper may find an hour to thrive in; and a dog hath a day. Antigonus having taken upon him to favour a Soldier of his, by reason of his virtue and valour, commanded his Physicians to have great care of him, and see whether they could recover him of a lingering and inward disease, which had long tormented him, who being perfectly cured, he afterward perceived him to be nothing so earnest and diligent in his affairs, demanded of him, how he was so changed from himself, and become so ocwardish: yourself good sir (answered he) have made me so, by ridding me of those in firmities, which so did grieve me, that I made no account of my life. A Soldier of Lucullus, having by his enemies been robbed of all he had, to revenge himself undertook a notable and desperate attempt upon them; and having recovered his losses, Lucullus conceived a very good opinion of him, and with the greatest shows of assured trust and loving kindness he could bethink himself, made especial account of him, and in any dangerous enterprise seemed to trust and employ him only: Verbis quae timido quoque possent addere mentem: Hor. l. 2. epist. 2. 34. With words, which to a coward might Add courage, had he any sprite. Employ (said he unto him) some wretch-stripped and robbed soldier — (quantumvis rusticus ibit, 39 Ibit eò, quo vis, qui zonam perdidit, inquit.) (None is, saith he, so clownish, but will-on, Where you will have him, if his purse be gone) and absolutely refused to obey him. When we read that Mahomet, having outrageously rated Chasan, chief leader of his janizers, because he saw his troop well-nigh defeated by the Hungarians, and he to behave himself but faintly in the fight, Chasan without making other reply, alone as he was, and without more ado, with his weapon in his hand rushed furiously in the thickest throng of his enemies that the first met withal, of whom he was instantly slain: This may haply be deemed, rather a rash conceit, than a justification; and a new spite, than a natural p●owes. He whom you saw yesterday so boldly-venturous, wonder not if you see him a dastardly meacoke to morrow next: for either anger or necessity, company or wine, a sudden fury or the clang of a trumpet, might rowze-up his hart, and stir up his courage. It is no hart nor courage so framed by discourse or deliberation: These circumstances have settled the same in him: Therefore is it no marvel if by other contrary circumstance he become a craven and change copy. This supple variation, and easy yielding contradiction, which is seen in us, hath made some to imagine, that we had two souls and others, two faculties; whereof every one as best she pleaseth, accompanieth and doth agitate-us; the one towards good, the other towards evil. For somuch as such a rough diversity cannot well sort and agree in one simple subject. The blast of accidents, doth not only remove me according to his inclination; for beside, I remove and trouble myself by the instability of my posture, and whosoever looketh narrowly about himself, shall hardly see himself twice in one same state. Sometimes I give my soul one visage, and sometimes another, according unto the posture or side I lay her in. If I speak diversely of myself, it is because I look diversely upon myself. All contrarieties are found in her, according to some turn or removing, and in some fashion or other. Shamefast, bashful, insolent, chaste, luxurious, peevish, prattling, silent, fond, doting, laborious, nice, delicate, ingenious, slow, dull, froward, humorous, debonair, wise, ignorant, false in words, true speaking, both liberal, co, vetous, and prodigal. All these I perceive in some measure or other to be in me, accorning as I stir or turn myself; And whosoever shall heedfully survey and consider himself, shall find this volubility and discordance to be in himself, yea and in his very judgement. I have nothing to say entirely, simply, and with solidity of myself, without confusion, disorder, blending, mingling; and in one word, Distinguo is the most universal part of my logic. Although I ever purpose to speak good of good, and rather to interpret those things, that will bear it, unto a good sense; yet is it that, the strangeness of our condition admitteth that we are often urged to do well by vice itself, if well doing were not judged by the intention only. Therefore may not a courageous act conclude a man to be valiant. He that is so, when just occasion serveth, shall ever be so, and upon all occasions. If it were an habitude of virtue, and not a sudden humour, it would make a man equally resolute at all assays, in all accidents: Such alone, as in company; such in a single combat, as in a set battle; For, whatsoever some say, valour is all alike, and not one in the street or town, and another in the camp or field. As courageously should a man bear a sickness in his bed, as a hurt in the field and fear death no more at home in his house, than abroad in an assault. We should not then see one same man enter the breach, or charge his enemy with an assured and undoubted fierceness, and afterward having escaped that, to vex, to grieve and torment himself like unto a silly woman, or fainthearted milksop for the loss of a suit, or death of a child. If one chance to be carelessly baseminded in his infancy, and constantly-resolute in poverty; if he be timorously-fearefull at sight of a Barber's razor, and afterward stowtlyundismayed against his enemy's sword: The action is commendable, but not the man. Divers Grecians (saith Cicero) can not endure to look their enemy in the face, yet are they most constant in their sicknesses; whereas the Cimbrians, and Celtiberians, are mere contrary. Nihil enim potest esse aequabile, quod non à certa ratione proficiscatur: For nothing can bear Cic. Tusc. qu. l. 2. f. itself even, which proceedeth not from resolved reason. There is no valour more extreme in his kind, than that of Alexander; yet is it but in species, nor every where sufficiently full and universal. As incomparable as it is, it hath his blemishes, which is the reason that in the idleest suspicions, he apprehendeth at the conspiracies of his followers against his life, we see him so earnestly to vex, and so desperately to trouble himself: In search and pursuit whereof he demeaneth himself with so vehement and indiscreet an injustice, and with such a demisse fear, that even his natural reason is thereby subverted. Also the superstition, wherewith he is so thoroughly tainted, beareth some show of pusilanimity. And the unlimited excess of the repentance he showed for the murder of Clitus, is also a witness of the inequality of his courage. Our matters are but parcels hudled-up, and pieces patched together, and we endeavour to acquire honour by false means, and untrue tokens. Virtue will not be followed, but by herself: And if at any time we borrow her mask, upon some other occasion, she will as soon pull-it from our face. It is a lively hue, and strong die, if the soul be once died with the same perfectly, and which will never fade or be gone, except it carry the skin away withit. Therefore to judge a man, we must a long time follow, and very curiously mark his steps; whether constancy do wholly subsist and continue upon her own foundation in him, Cui vivendi via consider at a atque provisa est, who hath forecast and considered the way of life; whether the variety of occurrences make him change his pace (I mean his Cic. parad. 5. way, for his pace may either be hastened or slowed) let him run on: such a one (as sayeth the imprease of our good Talbot) goeth before the wind. It is no marvel (saith an old writer) that hazard hath such power overus, since we live by hazard. It is impossible for him to dispose of his particular actions, that hath not in gross directed his life unto one certain end. It is impossible for him to range all pieces in order, that hath not a plot or form of the total frame in his head. What availeth the provision of all sorts of colours unto one that knows not what he is to draw? No man makes any certain design of his life, and we deliberate of it but by parcels. A skilful archer ought first to know the mark he aimeth at, and then apply his hand, his bow, his string, his arrow and his motion accordingly. Our counsels go a stray, because they are not rightly addressed, and have no fixed end. No wind makes for him, that hath no intended port to saile-unto. As for me, I allow not greatly of that judgement, which some made of Sophocles, and to have concluded him sufficient in the managing of domestical matters, against the accusation of his own Son, only by the sight of one of his tragedies. Nor do I commend the conjecture of the Parians, sent to reform the Milesians, as sufficient to the consequence they drew thence. In visiting and surveying the I'll, they marked the Lands that were best husbanded, and observed the country houses that were best governed. And having registered the names of their owners; and afterward made an assembly of the Townsmen of the City, they named and instituted those owners as new governors and magistrates, judging and concluding, that being good husbands and careful of their household affairs, they must consequently be so of public matters. We are all framed of flappes and patches and of so shapeless and divers a contexture, that every piece and every moment playeth his part. And there is as much difference found between us and ourselves, as there is between ourselves and other. Magnam rem puta, unum hominem agere. Esteem it a great matter, to play but one man. Since ambition may teach men both valour, temperance, liberality, yea and justice: Sith covetousness may settle in the mind of a Shop-prentise-boy, broughtup in ease and idleness, a dreadless assurance to leave his homebred ease, and forego his place of education, and in a small bark to yield himself unto the mercy of blustering waves, merciless winds and wrathful Neptune; and that it also teacheth discretion and wisdom; And that Venus hirself ministereth resolution and hardiness unto tender youth as yet subject to the discipline of the rod, and teacheth the ruthless Soldier, the soft and tenderly effeminate heart of women in their mother's laps. Hac duce custodes furtim transgressa iacentes, Tib. l. 2. el. 1. 75. — Ad invenem tenebris sola puella venit. The wench by stealeh her lodge guards having stripped, By this guide, sole, i'th' dark, toth' younker skipped. It is no part of a well-grounded judgement, simply to judge ourselves by our exterior actions: A man must throughl sound himself, and dive into his heart, and there see by what wards or springs the motions stir. But forasmuch as it is a hazardous and high enrerprise, I would not have so many to meddle with it as do. The second Chapter. Of Drunkenness. THe world is nothing but variety, and dissemblance. Vices are all alike, in as much as they are all vices: And so do happily the stoics mean it. But though they are equally vices, they are not equal vices; And that he who hath started a hundred steps beyond the limits Quos ultra citráque nequit consistere rectum, Hor. l. 1. sat. 1. 107. On this side, or beyond the which No man can hold a right true pitch. is not of worse condition, than he that is ten steps short of it, is no whit credible: and that sacrilege is not worse than the stealing of a Colewort out of a Garden. Nec vincet ratio, tantandem ut peccet, inémque, Sat. 3. 115. Quiteneros cawls alieni fregerit horti, Et qui nocturnus diuûm sacra legerit.— No reason can evict, as great or same sinnetaints Him that breaks in an others Garden tender plants, And him that steals by night things consecrate to Saints. There is as much diversity in that as in any other thing. The confusion of order and measure of crimes, is dangerous: Murderers, Traitors and Tyrants, have too much gain by it: it is no reason their conscience should be eased, in that some is either idle or lascivious, or less assiduous unto devotion. Every man poiseth upon his fellows sin, and elevates his own. Even teachers do often range it ill in my conceit. As Socrates said, that the chiefest office of wisdom, was to distinguish goods and evils. We others, to whom the best is ever in vice, should say the like of knowledge, to distinguish vices. Without which, and that very exact, both virtuous and wicked men remain confounded and unknown. Now drunkenness amongst others, appeareth to me a gross and brutish vice. The mind hath more part else where; and some vices there are, which (if it may lawfully be spoken) have a kind of I wot not what generosity in them. Some there are, that have learning, diligence, valour, prudence, wit, cunning, dexterity, and subtlety joined with them; whereas this is merely corporal, and terrestrial. And the grossest and rudest nation, that liveth amongst us at this day, is only that which keepeth it in credit. Other vices but altar and distract the understanding, whereas this utterly subverteth the same, and astonieth the body. — cum vini vis penetravit, Luer. l. 3. 479. Consequitur gravitas membrorum, praepediuntur Crur a vacillanti, tardescit lingua, madet mens, Nant oculi, clamour, singultus, inrgia gliscunt When once the force of wine hath inly pierced, Limbes-heavinesse is next, legs feign would go, But reeling can not, tongue drawles, minds dispersed, Eyes swim, cries, hickups, brabbles grow. The worst estate of man, is where he looseth the knowledge and governemen of himself. And amongst other things, it is said, that as must wine boiling and working in a vessel, works and sends upward what ever it containeth in the bottom, so doth wine cause those that drink excessively of it, work up, and break out their most concealed secrets. — tu sapientium Hor. l. 3. ●d. 21. 14. Curas, & arcanum iocoso Consilium retegis Lyaeo. Thou (wine-cup) dost by wine reveal The cares, which wise men would conceal, And close drifts, at a merry meal. josephus reporteth, that by making an Ambassador to tipple-square, whom his enemies had sent unto him, he wrested all his secrets out of him. Nevertheless Augustus having trusted Lucius Piso, that conquered Thrace, with the secretest affairs he had in hand, had never cause to be discontented with him; Nor Tiberius with Cossus, to whom he imparted all his seriousest counsels, although we know them both to have so given themselves to drinking of wine, that they were often feign to be carried from the Senate, and both were reputed notable drunkards. — Hesterno inflatum venas de more Lyaeo. Vir. luc. ●c. 6. 15. ● Veins puffed up, as is used always, By wine which was drunk yesterday. And as faithfully as the complot and purpose to kill Caesar committed unto Cimber, who would daily be drunk with quaffing of wine, as unto Cassius, that drunk nothing but water whereupon he answered very pleasantly. What? shall I bear a Tyrant, that am not able to bear wine? We see our carousing tosspot German soldiers, when they are most plunged in their cups, and as drunk as Rats, to have perfect remembrance of their quarter, of the watch word, and of their files. — nec facilis victoria de madidis, & Iuue. sat. 15. 47 Blaesis, atque mero titubantibus.— Nor is the conquest easy of men sow'st, Lisping and reeling with wine they carow'st. I would never have believed so sound, so deep and so excessive drunkenness, had I not read in Histories, that Attalus having envited to sup with him (with intent to do him some notable indignity) the same Pausanias, who for the same cause killed afterward Philip King of Macedon, (a King who by the eminent fair qualities that were in him, bore a testimony of the education he had learned in the house and company of Epaminondas) made him so dead-drunk, that insensibly and without feeling, he might prostitute his beauty as the body of a common hedge-harlot, to Mulettiers, Grooms and many of the abject servants of his house. And what a Lady (whom I much honour and highly esteem) told me, protesting, that near Bordeaux, towards Castres', where her house is, a widow Countrywoman, reputed very chaste and honest, suspecting herself to be with child, told her neighbours, than had she a husband, she should verily think she were with child. But the occasion of this suspicion increasing more and more, and perceiving herself so bigbellied, that she could no longer conceal it, she resolved to make the Parrish-priest acquainted with it, whom she entreated to publish in the Church, that whosoever he were, that was guilty of the fact, and would avow it, she would freely forgive him, and if he were so pleased, take him to her husband. A certain swain or hyne-boy of hers, emboldened by this proclamation, declared, how that having one holiday found her well-tippled with wine, and so sound asleep by the chimney side, lying so fit and ready for him, that without a waking her he had the full use of her body. Whom she accepted for her husband, and both live together at this day. It is assured that antiquity hath not greatly described this vice. The compositions of divers Philosophers speak but sparingly of it. Yea, and some of the stoics deeme-it not amiss for man sometimes to take his liquor roundly, and drink drunk thereby to recreate his spirits. Hoc quoque virtutum quondam certamine magnum Cor. Gal. el. 1. Socratem palmam promeruisse ferunt. They say, in this too, Socrates the wise, And graet in virtues combats, bore the prize. Cato that strict censurer, and severe corrector of others, hath been reproved for much drinking, Narratur & prisci Catonis Hor. l. 3. od. 21. 11. Saepe mero caluisse virtus. 'tis said, by use of wine repeated, Old Cato's virtue oft was heated. Cyrus that so far-renowned King, amongst his other commendations, meaning to prefer himself before his brother Artaxerxes, and get the start of him, allegeth, that he could drink better, and tipple more than he. And amongst the best policed and formalest nations, the custom of drinking, and pleadging of healths was much in use. I have heard Silvius, that excellent Physician of Paris affirm that to preserve the vigour of our stomach from impairing, it is not amiss once a month to rouse up the same by this excess of drinking; and lest it should grow dull and stupid thereby to stir it up. And it is written, that the Persians, after they had well tippled, were wont to consult of their chiefest affairs. My taste, my relish and my complexion, are sharper enemies unto this vice, than my discourse: For, beside that I captivate more easily my conceits under the authority of ancient opinions, indeed I finde-it to be a fond, a stupid and a base kind of vice, but less malicious and hurtful than others; all which shock, and with a sharper edge wound public society. And if we cannot give ourselves any pleasure, except (as they say) it cost-us something; I find this vice to be less chargeable unto our conscience than others; besides, it is not hard to be prepared, difficult to be found; a consideration not to be despised. A man well advanced in years and dignity, amongst three principal commodities he told me to have remaining in life, counted this: and where shall a man more rightly finde-it, then amongst the natural? But he tookeit ill, delicateness, and the choice of wines is therein to be avoided. If you prepare your voluptuousness to drink it with pleasure and daintily neat, you tie yourself unto an inconvenience to drinke-it other than is always to be had. A man must have a milder, a loose and a freer taste. To be a true drinker, a man should not have so tender and squeamish a palate. The Germans do in a manner drink aqually of all sorts of wine with like pleasure. Their end is rather to gulp it down freely, then to taste it kindly. And to say truth they have it better cheap. Their voluptuousness is more plenteous and fuller. Secondarily, to drink after the French manner, as two draughts and moderately, is overmuch to restrain the favours of that God. There is more time and constancy required thereunto. Our forefathers were wont to spend whole nights in that exercise, yea often times they joined whole long days unto them. And a man must proportion his ordinary more large and firm. I have in my days seen a principal Lord; a man of great employment and enterprises, and famous for good success, who without straining himself, and eating but an ordinary meales-meat, was wont to drink little less than five pottles of wine, yet at his rising seemed to be nothing distempered, but rather as we have found to our no small cost in managing of our affairs, overwise and considerate. The pleasure of that, whereof we would make account in the course of our life ought to be employed longer space. It were necessary, as shop-boyes or labouring people, that we should refuse no occasion to drink▪ and continually to have this desire in our mind. It seemeth that we daily shorten the use of this: and that in our houses, (as I have seen in mine infancy) breakfasts, nunchions, and beavers should be more frequent and often used, then now adays they are. And should we thereby in any sort proceed towards amendment? Noverily. But it may be, that we have much more given ourselves over unto paillardise and all manner of luxury than our fathers were. They are two occupations, that enter-hinder one another, in their vigour. On the one side, it hath impaired and weakened our stomach, and on the other, sobriety serveth to make us more jolly-quaint, lusty, and wanton for the exercise of love matters. It is a wonder to think on the strange tales I have heard my father report, of the chastity of his times. He might well speak of it, as he that was both by art and nature proper for the use and solace of Ladies. He spoke little and well, few words, but to the purpose, and was ever wont to entermixe some ornament taken from vulgar books, and above all, Spanish, amongst his common speeches: And of all Spanish authors, none was more familiar unto him then Marcous Aurelius. His demeanour and carriage was ever mild, meek, gentle, and very modest, and above all, grave and stately. There is nothing he seemed to be more careful▪ of, then of his honesty, and observe a kind of decency of his person, and orderly decorum in his habits, were it on foot or on hosebacke. He was exceeding nice in performing his word or promise; And so strictly conscientious and obsequious in religion, that generally he seemed rather to incline toward superstition, than the contrary. Though he were but a little man, his courage and vigour was great: he was of an upright, and well proportioned stature, of a pleasing, cheerefull-looking countenance, of a swarthy hue, nimbly addicted, and exquisitely nimble unto all noble and gentleman▪ like exercises. I have seen some hollow staves of his filled with lead, which he wont to use and exercise his arms withal, the better to enable himself to pitch to bar, to throw the sledge, the cast the pole and to play at fence: and shoes with leaden soles, which he wore to enure himself, to leap, to vault and to run. I may without blushing say, that in memory of himself, he hath left certain petty miracles amongst us. I have seen him when he was passed threescore years of age mock at all our sports, and out-countenance our youthful pastimes, with a heavy furred Gown about him to leap into his saddle; to make the pommada round about a Table upon his thumb; and seldom to ascend any stairs without skipping three or four steps at once. And concerning my discourse, he was wont to say, that in a whole Province there was scarce any woman of quality, that had an ill name. He would often report strange familiarities, namely of his own, with very honest women, without any suspicion at all. And protested very religiously, that when he was married, he was yet a pure Virgin; yet had he long time followed the wars beyond the Mountains, and therein served long, whereof he hath left a journall-booke of his own collecting, wherein he hath particularly noted, whatsoever happened day by day worthy the observation, so long as he served, both for the public and his particular use. And he was well strucken in years, when he took a wife. For returning out of Italy, in the year of our Lord, one thousand five hundred eight and twenty, and being full three and thirty years old, by the way he chose himself a wife. But come we to our drinking again. The incommodities of age, which need some help and refreshing, might with some reason beget in me a desire or longing of this faculty: for, it is in a man the last pleasure, which the course of our years stealeth upon us. Good fellows say, that natural heat is first taken in our feet: That properly belongeth to infancy. From thence it ascendeth unto the middle region, where it is settled and continueth a long time: and in mine opinion, there produceth the only true, and moving pleasures of this corporal life. Other delight and sensualities in respect of that, do but sleep▪ in the end, like unto a vapour, which by little and little exhaleth, and mounteth aloft, it comes unto the throat, and there makes her last bode. Yet could I never conceive, how any man may either increase or prolong the pleasure of drinking beyond thirst, and in his imagination frame an artificial appetite, and against nature. My stomach could not well reach so far: it is very much troubled to come to an end of that which it takes for his need. My constitution is, to make an account of drinking, but to succeed meat, and therefore do I ever make my last draft the greatest. And forasmuch as in age, we have the roof of our mouths commonly furred with rheum, or distempered, distasted and altered through some other evil constitution, wine seemeth better unto us and of a quicker relish, according as our pores be either more or less open and washed. At least I seldom relish the same very well, except it be the first draft I take. Anacharsis wondered to see the Grecians drink in greater glasses at the end of their meals, then in the beginning. It was (as I imagine) for the very same reason, that the Germans doe-it, who never begin to carouse, but when they have well fed. Plato forbiddeth children to drink any wine, before they be eighteen years of age, and to be drunk before they come to forty. But to such as have once attained the age of forty▪ he is content to pardon them, if they chance to delight themselves with it, and alloweth them somewhat largely to blend the influence of Dionysius in their banquets, that good God, who bestoweth cheerfulness upon men, and youth unto aged men, who layeth and assuageth the passions of the mind, even as iron is made flexible by the fire: and in his profitable laws drinking-meetings or quaffing companies as necessary and commendable (always provided there be a chief leader amongst them to contain and order them) drunkenness being a good and certain trial of every man's nature; and therewithal proper to give aged men the courage to make merry in dancing and in music; things allowable and profitable, and such as they dare not undertake being sober and settled. That wine is capable to supply the mind with temperance, and the body with health. Notwithstanding, these restrictions, partly barrowed of the Carthaginians, please him well. Let those forbear it that are going about any expedition of war. Let every magistrate, and all judges abstain from▪ it at what time they are to execute their charge, and to consult of public affairs▪ Let none bestow the day in drinking, as the time that is due unto more serious negotiations, nor the nights wherein a man intendeth to get children. It is reported, that Stilpo the Philosopher, finding himself surcharged with age, did purposely hasten his end, by drinking of pure wine. The like cause (though not wittingly) did also suffocat the vital forces, crazed through old age of the Philosopher Arcesilaus. But it is an old and pleasant question, whether a wiseman's mind were like to yield unto the force of wine. Si munitae adhibet vim sapientiae. Od. 28. 4. If unresisted force it bends, 'Gainst wisdom which itself defends. Unto what vanity doth the good opinion we have of ourselves provoke-us? The most temperate and perfectest mind of the world, finds it too great a task to keep herself upright, lest she fall by her own weakness. Of a thousand there is not one perfectly righteous and settled but one instant of her life, and question might be made, whether according to her natural condition she might at any time be so. But to join constancy unto it, in her last perfection: I mean if nothing should shock her: which a thousand accidents may do. Lucretius that famous Poet, may philosophy and bandy at his pleasure: Lo where he lieth senseless of an amorous potion. Thinks any man, that an Apoplexy cannot as soon astonish Socrates, as a poor labouring man? Some of them have by the force of a sickness, forgot their own names, and a slight hurt hath overthrown the judgement of others. Let him be as wise as he can, in the end he is but a man; what is more frail, more miserable, or more vain? Wisdom forceth not our natural conditions. Sudores itaque & pallorem existere toto Lucr. l. 3. 155. Corpore, & infringi linguam vocémque aboriri Caligare oculos, sonare aures, succidere artus, Denique concidere ex anîmi terrore videmus. We see therefore, paleness and sweats o'er▪ grow, Our bodies, tongues do falter, voice doth break, Eyes dazzle, ears buzz, joints do shrink below, Lastly we swoon by hart-fright, terrors weak. He must feel his eyes against the blow that threateneth him, being near the brim of a precipise, he must cry out like a child. Nature having purposed to reserve these light marks of her authority unto herself, in expugnable unto our reason, and to the Stoic virtue: to teach him his mortality, and our insipiditie. He waxeth pale for fear, he blusheth for shame he groaneth feeling the cholike, if not with a desperate and lowd-roaring voice, yet with a low, smothered and hoarse-sounding noise. Humani à se nihil alienum putat, Ter. Heau●. act. 1. sce. 1. 25 He thinks, that nothing strange be can, To him, that longs to any man. Giddy-headed Poets, that feign what they list, dare not so much as discharge their Heroes Virg. Aeu. l. 6. ● from tears. Sic fatur lachrymen, classic immittit habenas. So said he weeping, and so said, Himself hand to the steerage laid. Let it suffice him to bridle his affections, and moderate his inclinations; for, it is not in him to bear them away. Plutarch himself, who is so perfect and excellent a judge of human actions, seeing Brutus and Torquatus to kill their own children, remaineth doubtful, whither virtue could reach so far, and whether such men were not rather moved by some other passion. All actions beyond the ordinary limits, are subject to some sinister interpretation: Forasmuch as our taste doth no more come unto that which is above it, then to that which is under it. Let us omit that other sect, which maketh open profession of fierceness. But when in the very same sect, which is esteemed the most demisse, we hear the brags of Metrodorus: Occupavite, Fortuna, atque cepi: omnésque aditus tuos interclusi ut ad me aspirare non Metr. Cic. Tusc. qu●st. l. 5. posses. Fortune, I have prevented, caught, and overtaken thee: I have mured and ramd up all thy passages, whereby thou mightest attain unto me. When Anaxarcus, by the appointment of Nicocreon, the tyrant of Cypress, being laid along in a trough of stone, and smoten with iron sledges, ceaseth not to cry out, streeke, smite, and break; it is not Anaxarchus, it is but his vail you martyr so. When we hear our martyrs, in the midst of a flame cry a loud unto the Tyrant, this side is roasted enough, chop-it, eat it, it is full roasted, now begin on the other. When in josephus we hear a child all to rend with biting snippers, and pierced with the breath of Antiochus, to defy him to death, cry with a lowde-assured and undismayed voice; Tyrant thou losest time, lo I am still at mine ease; where is that smarting pain, where are those torments, wherewith whilom thou didst so threaten me? My constancy doth more trouble thee, than I have feeling of thy cruelty: Oh fainthearted varlet, dost thou yield when I gather strength? Make me to faint or shrink, cause me to moan or lament, force me to yield and sue for grace if thou canst; encourage thy satellities, hearten thy executioners; lo how they droop, and have no more power; arm them, strengthen them, flesh them. Verily we must needs confess there is some alteration, and some fury (how holy soever) in those minds. When we come unto these Stoic evasions; I had rather be furious then voluptuous: the saying of Antisthenes. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Rather would I be mad, then Antist. Diogen. L●●rs. l. 6. c. 1. merry. When Sextu●s telleth us, he had rather be surprised with pain, than sensuality; when Epicurus undertakes to have the gout, to wantonize and faun upon him, and refusing ease and health, with a hearty cheerfulness defy all evils, and scornfully despising less sharp griefs, disdaining to grapple with them, he blithely desireth and calleth for sharper, more forcible, and worthy of him: Spumantémque dari pecora inter inerei● votis Optat aprum, aut fulvum descendere monte leonem: Virg. Ae●. l 4. 158. He wished, 'mongst heartless beasts some foaming Boar, Or mountaine-Lyon would come down and roar. Who would not judge them to be pranks of a courage removed from his wont seat? Our mind cannot out of her place attain so high. She must quit it and raise herself a fit, and taking the bridle in her teeth, carry and transport her man so far, that afterward he wonder at himself, and rest amazed at his actions. As in exploits of war, the heat and earnestness of the fight doth often provoke the noble-minded-souldiers, to adventure on so dangerous passages, that afterward being better advised, they are the first to wonder at it. As also Poets, are often surprised and rapt with admiration at their own labours, and forget the trace, by which they passed so happy a career. It is that, which some term a fury or madness in them. And as Plato saith, that a settled and reposed man, doth in vain knock at Poesy's gate. Aristotle likewise saith, that no excellent mind is freely exempted from some or other entermixture of folly. And he hath reason, to call any starting or extraordinary conceit (how commendable soever) and which exceedeth our judgement and discourse, folly. Forsomuch as wisdom, is an orderly and regular managing of the mind, and which she addresseth with measure, and conducteth with proportion; And take her own word forit. Plato disputeth thus; that the faculty of prophesying and divination is far above-us, and that when we treat it, we must be besides ourselves: our wisdom must be darkened and over shadowed by sleep, by sickness, or by drowsiness; or by some celestial fury, ravished from her own seat. The third Chapter. A custom of the I'll of Cea. IF, as some say, to philosophate be to doubt; with much more reason, to rave and fantastiquize, as I do, must necessarily be to doubt: For, to inquire and debate, belongeth to a scholar, and to resolve appertains to a cathedral master. But know, my cathedral, it is the authority of God's divine will, that without any contradiction doth sway-us, and hath her rank beyond these human and vain contestations. Philip being with an armed hand entered the Country of Peloponnesus, some one told Damidas, the Lacedæmonians were like to endure much, if they sought not to reobtain his lost favour. Oh varlet as thou art (answered he.) And what can they suffer, who have no fear at all of death? Agis being demanded, how a man might do to live free, answered; Despising and contemning to die. These and a thousand like propositions, which concur in this purpose, do evidently infer some thing beyond the patient expecting of death itself, to be suffered in this life: witness the Lacedaemonian child, taken by Antigonus, and sold for a slave, who urged by his master, to perform some abject service; Thou shalt see (said he) whom thou hast bought; for, it were a shame for me to serve, having liberty so near at hand, and therewithal threw himself headlong down from the top of the house. Antipater, sharply threatening the Lacedæmonians, to make them yield to a certain request of his; they answered, shouldest thou menace us worse than death, we will rather die. And to Philip, who having written unto them, that he would hinder all their enterprises; What? (say they) will't thou also hinder us from dying? That is the reason, why some say, that the wiseman liveth as long as he ought, and not so long as he can. And that the favourablest gift, nature hath bequeathed-us, and which removeth all means fromus to complain of our condition, is, that she hath left-us the key of the fields. She hath appointed but one entrance unto life, but many a thousand ways out of it: Well may we want ground to live upon, but never ground to die in. As Boiocatus answered the Romans. Why dost thou complain against this world? It doth not contain thee: If thou livest in pain and sorrow, thy base courage is the cause ofit, To die there wanteth but will. ubique mors est: optimè hoc cavit Deus, Sen. Theb. Act. 1. sce. 1. Eripere vitam nemo non homini potest: At nemo mortem: mill ad hanc aditus patent. Each where death is: God did this well purvay, No man but can from man life take away, But none barr's death, to it lies many'a way. And it is not a receipt to one malady alone; Death is a remedy against all evils: It is a most assured haven, never to be feared, and often to be sought: All comes to one period, whether man make an end of himself, or whether he endure▪ it; whether he run before his day, or whether he expect▪ it: whence soever it come, it is ever his own, where ever the thread be broken, it is all there, it's the end of the web. The voluntariest death, is the fairest. Life dependeth on the will of others, death on ours. In nothing should we so much accommodate ourselves to our humours, as in that. Reputation doth nothing concern such an enterprise, it is folly to have any respect unto it. To live is to serve, if the liberty to die be wanting. The common course of curing any infirmity, is ever directed at the charge of life: we have incisions made into us, we are cauterized, we have limbs cut and mangled, we are let blood, we are di●ted. Go we but one step further, we need no more physic, we are perfectly whole. Why is not our jugular or throat vein as much at our command as the median? To extreme sicknesses, extreme remedies. Servius the Grammarian being troubled with the gout, found no better means to be rid of it, then to apply poison to mortify his legs. He cared not whether they were Podagrees or no, so they were insensible. God giveth us sufficient privilege, when he placeth us in such an estate, as life is worse than death unto us. It is weakness to yield to evils, but folly to foster them. The stoics say, it is a convenient natural life, for a wiseman, to forego life, although he abound in all happiness; if he do it opportunely: And for a fool to prolong his life, albeit he be most miserable, provided he be in most part of things, which they say to be according unto nature. As I offend not the laws made against thieves, when I cut mine own purse, and carry away mine own goods; nor of destroyers when I burn mine own wood: so am I nothing tied unto laws made against murderers, if I deprive myself of mine own life. Hegesias was wont to say, that even as the condition of life, so should the quality of death depend on our election. And Diogenes meeting with the Philosopher Speufippus, long time afflicted with the dropsy, and therefore carried in a litter, who cried out unto him; All hail Diogenes: And to thee no health at all, (replied Diogenes) that endurest to live in so wretched an estate. True it is, that a while after, Speusippus as overtired with so languishing a condition of life, compassed his own death. But this goeth not without some contradiction: For, many are of opinion, that without the express commandment of him, that hath placed us in this world, we may by no means forsake the garrison of it, and that it is in the hands of God only, who therein hath placed-us, not for ourselves alone, but for his glory, and others service, when ever it shall please him to discharge us hence, and not for us to take leave: That we are not borne for ourselves, but for our Country: The Laws for their own interest require an account at our hands for ourselves, and have a just action of murder againstus. Else as forsakers of our own charge, we are punished in the other world. Proxima deinde tenent moestiloca, qui sibi let hum Virg. Aen. li. 6. 434. Insontes p●perere manu, lucémque perosi Proi●cere animas.— Next place they lamentable hold in hell, Whose hand their death caused causeless, (but not well) And hating life did thence their souls expel. There is more constancy in using the chain that holds-us, then in breaking the same; and more trial of steadfastness in Regulus, then in Cato. It is indiscretion and impatience that hasteneth our way. No accidents can force a man to turn his back from lively virtue: She seeketh-out evils and sorrows as her nourishment. The threats of fell tyrants, tortures and torments; executioners and torturers, do animate and quicken her. Duris ut ilex t●nsa bipennibus ●●●. l. 4. o●. 4. 57 Nigrae feraci frondis in Algid● Per damna, per caedes, ab ipso Ducit opes animúmque ferro. As holme-tree doth with hard axe lopped On hills with many holme-trees topped, From loss, from cuttings it doth feel, Courage and store rise even from steel. And as the other saith. Non est ut put as virtus, pater, Sen. Theb. Act. 1. sc●. 1. Timere vitam, sed magis ingentibus Obstare, nec se vertere ac retro dare. Sir, ti's not virtue, as you understand, To fear life, but gross mischief to withstand, Not to retire, turn back, at any hand. Rebus in adversis facile est contemnere mortem. M●●t. li. 11. spi. 57 15. Fortius ille facit, qui miser esse potest. 'tis easy in cross chance death to despise: He that can wretched be, doth stronger rise. It is the part of cowardliness, and not of virtue, to seek to squat itself in some hollowlurking hole, or to hide herself under some massy tomb, thereby to shun the strokes of fortune. She never forsakes her course, nor leaves her way, what stormy weather soever crosse-her. Si fractus illabatur orbis, Impavidam ferient ruina. ●●r. ●. 3. ●d. ●. 7. If the world broken should upon her fall, The ruins may her strike, but not appall, The avoiding of other inconveniences doth most commonly drive us into this, yea, sometimes the shunning of death, makes us to run into it. Mart. li. 2. ●pig. 80. 2. Hic, rogo, non furor est, ●● moriare, mori? Madness is't not, say I, To die, lest you should die? As those who for fear of a breakneck downfall, do headlong cast themselves into-it. — multos in summa pericula misit Lucan. l. 7. 104. V●●turi timor ipse mali: fortissimus ille est, Qui promptus metuenda pati, si cominus instent, Et differre potest. The very fear of ills to come, hath sent Many to mighty dangers: strongest they, Who fearful things t'endure are ready bend, If they confront them, yet can them delay. — usque adeo mortis formidine, vitae L●cr. l. 3. 79. Percipit humanos odium, luc●sque videndae, Vt sibi consciscant moerenti pectore let hum, Ob●i●i fontem curarum hunc esse timorem. So far by fear of death, the hate of life, And seeing-light, doth men as men possess, They grieving kill themselves to end the strife, Forgetting, fear is spring of their distress. Plato in his laws, alots him that hath deprived his nearest and dearest friend of life (that is to say, himself) and abridged him of the destinies course, not constrained by any public judgement, nor by any lewd and inevitable accident of fortune, nor by any intolerable shame or infamy, but through baseness of mind, and weakness of a faint-fearfull courage, to have a most ignominious, and ever-reproachfull burial. And the opinion which disdaineth our life, is ridiculous: For, in fine it is our being. It is our all in all. Things that have a nobler and richer being, may accuse ours: But it is against nature, we should despise, and carelessly set ourselves at nought: It is a particular infirmity, and which is not seen in any other creature, to hate and disdain himself. It is of like vanity, that we desire to be other, than we are. The fruit of such a desire doth not concerne-us, forasmuch as it contradicteth and hindereth itself in itself. He that desireth to be made of a man an Angel, doth nothing for himself: He should be nothing the better by it: And being no more, who shall rejoice or conceive any gladness of this change or amendment for him? Debet enim mis●rè fortè aegréque futurum est, ●b. 905. Ipse quoque esse in eo tum tempore, cum male possit Accidere, For he, who shall perchance prove miserable, And speed but ill, should then himself be able To be himself, when ills may chance unstable. The security, indolency, impassibility, and privation of this lives-evils, which we purchase at the price of death, bring us no commodity at all. In vain doth be avoid war, that can not enjoy peace; and bootless doth ●● shun pain, that hath no means to feel rest. Amongst those of the first opinion, great questioning hath been, to know what occasions are sufficiently just and lawful to make a man undertake the kill of himself, they call that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a reasonable orderly outlet. For, although they say, a man must often die Alex. Aphr●d. for slight causes, since these that keep us alive, are not very strong; yet is some measure required in them. There are certain fantastical and brainsick humours, which have not only provoked particular men, but whole Nations to defeat themselves. I have heretofore alleged some examples of them: And moreover we read of certain Mi●●sian virgins, who upon a surious conspiracy hanged themselves one after an other, until such time as the Magistrate provided for it, appointing that such as should be found so hanged, should with their own halters be dragged naked through the streets of the City. When Threition persuadeth Cleom●nes to kill himself, by reason of the bad and desperate estate his affairs stood in, and having escaped a more honourable death in the battle which he had lately lost, moveth him to accept of this other, which is second to him in honour, and give the conqueror no leisure to make him endure, either another death, or else a shameful life. Cleomenes with a Lacedaemonian and Stoic courage, refuseth this counsel as base and effeminate: It is a receipt, (saith he) which can never fail me, and whereof a man should make no use, so long as there remaineth but one inch of hope: That to live, is sometimes constancy and valour; That he will have his very death serve his Country, and by it, show an act of honour and of virtue. Threition then believed, and killed himself. Cleomenes did afterwards as much, but not before he had tried and assayed the utmost power of fortune. All inconveniences are not so much worth, that a man should die to eschew them. Moreover, there being so many sudden changes, and violent alterations in human things, it is hard to judge in what state or point we are justly at the end of our hope: Sperat & in s●va victus gladiator arena, — Sit licet infesto pollice turba minax. The Fencer hopes, though down in lists he lie, And people with turned hand threats he must die. All things, saith an ancient Proverb, may a man hope-for, so long as he liveth: yea, but, answereth Seneca, wherefore shall I rather have that in mind; that fortune can do all things for him that is living, than this; that fortune hath no power at all over him, who knoweth how to die? joseph is seen engaged in so an apparant-approaching danger, with a whole nation against him, that according to human reason, there was no way for him to escape; notwithstanding being (as he saith) counseled by a friend of his, at that instant, to kill himself, it fell out well for him to opinionate himself yet in hope: for fortune, beyond all man's discourse, did so turn and change that accident, that without any inconvenience at all, he saw himself delivered: whereas on the contrary Brutus and Cassius, by reason of the downfall and rashness, wherewith before due time and occasion, they killed themselves; did utterly lose the relics of the Roman liberty, whereof they were protectors. The Lord of Ang●●●● in the battle of Serisolles, as one desperate of the combats success, which on his side went to wrack, attempted twice to run himself through the throat with his rapier, and thought by precipitation to bereave himself of the enjoying of so notable a victory. I have seen a hundred Hares save themselves even in the Gray-hounds jaws: Aliquis carni●ics suo superstes S●●. epist. 13. suit. Some man hath outlived his Hangman. Multa dies variúsque labor mutabilis evi Virg. Ae●. li. 11. 416. Rettulit in melius, multos alterna revisens Lusit, & in solido rursus fortuna locavit. Time, and of turning age the diverse strain, Hath much to better brought, fortunes turned train, Hath many mocked, and set them fast again. Pliny saith, there are but three sorts of sicknesses, which to avoid, a man may have some colour of reason to kill himself. The sharpest of all is the stone in the bladder, when the urine is there stopped. Seneca, those only, which for long time disturb and distract the offices of the mind. To avoid a worse death, some are of opinion, a man should take it at his own pleasure. Democritus chief of the Aetolians, being led captive to Rome, found means to escape by night: but being pursued by his keepers, rather than he would be taken again, ran himself through with his Sword. Antinoüs and Theodotus, their City of Epirus being by the Romans reduced unto great extremity, concluded, and persuaded all the people to kill themselves. But the counsel, rather to yield, having prevailed: they went to seek their own death, and rushed amidst the thickest of their enemies, with an intention, rather to strike, than to ward themselves. The Island of Gosa, being some years since surprised and over run by the Turks, a certain Sicilian therein dwelling, having two fair daughters ready to be married, killed them both with his own hands, together with their mother, that came in to help them. That done, running out into the streets, with a crossbow in one hand, and a caliver in the other, at two shoots, slew the two first Turks that came next to his gates, then resolutely drawing his Sword, ran furiously among them; by whom he was suddenly hewn in pieces: Thus did he save himself from slavish bondage, having first delivered his own fromit. The jewish women, after they had caused their children to be circumcised, to avoid the cruelty of Antiochus, did headlong precipitate themselves and them unto death. I have heardit credibly reported, that a gentleman of good quality, being prisoner in one of our gaols, and his parents advertised that he should assuredly be condemned, to avoid the infamy of so reproachful a death, appointed a Priest to tell him, that the best remedy for his delivery, was to recommend himself to such a Saint, with such and such a vow, and to continue eight days without taking any sustenance, what faintness or weakness soever he should feel in himself. He believed them, and so without thinking on it, was delivered both of life and danger. Scribonia persuading L●bo his nephew to kill himself, rather than to expect the stroke of justice, told him, that for a man to preserve his own life, to put it into the hands of such as three or four days after should come and seek it, was even to dispatch another man's business, and that it was no other, then for one to serve his enemies, to preserve his blood, therewith to make food. We read in the Bible, that Nicanor the persecutor of God's Law, having sent his Satellites to apprehend the good old man Rasi●s, for the honour of his virtue, surnamed the father of the jews; when that good man saw no other means left him, his gate being burned, and his enemies ready to lay hold on him, chose, rather than to fall into the hands of such villains, and be so basely abused, against the honour of his place to die nobly, and so smote himself with his own sword; but by reason of his haste, having not thoroughly slain himself, he ran to throw himself down from an high wall, amongst the throng of people, which making him room, he fell right upon his head. All which notwithstanding, perceiving life to remain in him, he took heart again; and getting up on his feet, all gored with blood, and loaden with strokes, making way through the press, came to a craggy and downe-steepie rock, where unable to go any further, by one of his wounds, with both his hands he pulled out his guts, and tearing and breaking them, cast them amongst such as pursued him, call and attesting the vengeance of God to light upon them. Of all violences committed against conscience, the most in mine opinion to be avoided, is that which is offered against the chastity of women, forasmuch as there is naturally some corporal pleasure commixed with it: And therefore the dissent cannot fully enough be joined thereunto: And it seemeth, that force is in some sort, intermixed with some will. The ecclesiastical Story hath in especial reverence, sundry such examples of devout persons, who called for death to warrant them from the outrages which some tyrants prepared against their religion and consciences. Pe●agia and Sophron●a, both canonised; the first, together with her mother and sisters, to escape the outrageous rapes of some soldiers, threw herself into a river; the other, to shun the force of Maxentius the Emperor, slew herself. It shall peradventure redound to our honour in future ages, that a wise Author of these days, and namely a Parisian, doth labour to persuade the Ladies of our times, rather to hazard upon any resolution, than to embrace so horrible a counsel of such desperation. I am sorry, that to put amongst his discourses, he knew not the good saying I learned of a woman at Tholouse, who had passed through the hands of some soldiers: God be praised (said she) that once in my life, I have had my bellyful without sin. Verily these cruelties are not worthy of the French courtesy. And God be thanked, since this good advertisement; our air is infinitely purged of them. Let it suffice, that in doing it, they say, No, and take it, following the rule of Marot. The history is very full of such, who a thousand ways have changed a lingering-toylsome life with death. Lucius Aruntius killed himself (as he said) to avoid what was past, and eschew what was to come. Granius Sylvanus, and Statius Proximus, after they had been pardoned by Nero, killed themselves, either because they scorned to live by the favour of so wicked a man, or because they would not another time be in danger of a second pardon, seeing his so easie-yeelding unto suspicious and accusations against honest men. Spargapises son unto Queen T●miris, prisoner by the law of war unto Cyrus, employed the first favour that Cyrus did him, by setting him free, to kill himself, as he who never pretended to reap other fruit by his liberty, then to revenge the infamy of his taking upon himself. Boges a Governor for king Xerxes in the country of jonia, being besieged by the Athenians army under the conduct of Cymon, refused the composition, to return safely, together with his goods and treasure into Asia, as one impatient to survive the loss of what his Master had given him in charge; and after he had stoutly-and even to the last extremity, defended the Town, having no manner of victuals left him; first he cast all the gold, and treasure, with whatsoever he imagined the enemy might reap any commodity by, into the river Strimon; Then having caused a great pile of wood to be set on fire, and made all women, children, concubines and servants to be stripped, & thrown into the flames, afterward ran-in himself, where all were burned. Ninache●uen a Lord in the East Indies, having had an inkling of the king of Portugals viceroys deliberation to dispossess him, without any apparent cause, of the charge he had in Mala●a, for to give it unto the king of Campar; of himself resolved upon this resolution. First he caused an high scaffold to be set up, somewhat longer than broad, underpropped with pillars, all gorgeously hanged with rich tapistry, strewed with flowers, and adorned with precious perfumes: Then having put-on a sumptuous long robe of cloth of gold, richly beset with store of precious stones of inestimable worth, he came out of the palace into the street, and by certain steps ascended the scaffold, in one of the corners whereof, was a pile of aromatical wood set afire. All the people of the City were flocked together, to see what the meaning of such unaccustomed preparation might tend unto. Ninache●uen with an undanted-bold, yet seeming-discontented countenance, declared the manifold obligations, which the Portugal Nation was indebted unto him for; expostulated how faithfully and truly he had dealt in his charge; that having so often witnessed, armed at all assays for others; that his honour was much dearer unto him then life, he was not to forsake the care of it for himself; that fortune refusing him all means to oppose himself against the injury intended against him, his courage, at the least willed him to remove the feeling thereof, and not become a laughing stock unto the people, and a triumph to men of less worth than himself: which words as he was speaking, he cast himself into the fire. Sextilia the wife of Scaurus and Praxea wife unto Labeo, to encourage their husbands, to avoid the dangers, which pressed them, wherein they had no share (but in regard of the interest of their conjugal affection) voluntarily engaged their life, in this extreme necessity, to serve them, as an example to imitate, and company to regard. What they performed for their husbands; Cocceius Nerva acted for his country, and though less profitable, yet equal in true-love. That famous interpreter of the laws, abounding in riches, in reputation, in credit, and flourishing in health about the Emperor, had no other cause to rid himself of life, but the compassion of the miserable estate, wherein he saw the Roman commonwealth. There is nothing can be added unto the daintiness of Fulvius wives death, who was so inward with Augustus. Augustus' perceiving he had blabbed a certain secret of importance, which he on-trust had revealed unto him; one morning coming to visit him, he seemed to frowneupon him forit; whereupon as guilty, he returneth home, as one full of despair, and in piteous sort told his wife, that sithence he was fallen into such a mischief, he was resolved to kill himself; she as one no whit dismayed, replied unto him; Thou shalt do but right, since having so often experienced the incontinence of my tongue, thou hast not learned to beware of it, yet give me leave to kill myself first, and without more ado, ran herself through with a sword. Vibius Virius despairing of his City's safety, besieged by the Romans, and mistrusting their mercy; in their Senate's last consultation, after many remonstrances employed to that end, concluded, that the best and fairest way, was to escape fortune by their own hands. The very enemies should have them in more honour, and Hannibal might perceive what faithful friends he had forsaken: Enviting those that should allow of his advice, to come, and take a good supper, which was prepared in his house, where after great cheer, they should drink together whatsoever should be presented unto him: a drink that shall deliver our bodies from torments, free our minds from injuries, and release our eyes and ears from seeing and hearing so many horrible mischiefs, which the conquered must endure at the hands of most cruel and offended conquerors: I have (quoth he) taken order, that men fit for that purpose shall be ready, when we shall be expired, to cast us into a great burning pile of wood. Divers approved of his high resolution, but few did imitate the same. Seven and twenty Senators followed him; who after they had attempted to stifle so irksome, and suppress so terror-mooving a thought, with quaffing and swilling of wine, they ended their repast by this deadly mess: and entre-embracing one another, after they had in common deplored and bewailed their country's misfortunes; some went home to their own houses, othersome stayed there, to be entombed with Vibius in his own fire; whose death was so long and lingering, forsomuch as the vapour of the wine having possessed their veins, and slowed the effect and operation of the poison, that some lived an hour after they had seen their enemies enter Capua, which they carried the next day after, and incurred the miseries, and saw the calamities, which at so high a rate they had sought to eschew. Taurea jubellius, another citizen there, the Consul Fulvius returning from that shameful slaughter, which he had committed of 225. Senators, called him churlishly by his name, and having arrested him; Command (quoth he) unto him, that I al●o be massacred after so many others, that so thou mayst brag to have murdered a much more valiant man then ever thou wast. Fulvius, as one enraged, disdaining him; forasmuch as he had newly received letters from Rome contrary to the inhumanity of his execution, which inhibited him to proceed any further; jubellius continuing his speech, said; sithence my Country is taken, my friends butchered, & having with mine own hands slain my wife and children, as the only mean to free them from the desolation of this ruin; I may not die the death of my fellow-citizens, let us borrow the vengeance of this hateful life from virtue: And drawing a blade, he had hidden under his garments, therewith ran himself through, and falling on his face, died at the Consul's feet. Alexander besieged a city in India▪ the inhabitants whereof, perceiving themselves brought to a very narrow pinch, resolved obstinately to deprive him of the pleasure he might get of his victory, and together with their city, in despite of his humanity, set both the Town & themselves on a light fire, and so were all consumed. A new kind of warring, where the enemies did all they could, and fought to save them, they to lose themselves, and to be assured of their death, did all a man can possible effect to warrant his life. Astapa a City in Spain, being very weak of walls, and other defences, to withstand the Romans that besieged the same; the inhabitants drew all their riches, and wealth into the marketplace, whereof having made a heap, and on the top of it placed their wives and children, and encompassed and covered the same with dry brush wood, that it might burn the easier, and having appointed fifty lusty young men of theirs for the performance of their resolution, made a sally, where following their determined vow, seeing they could not vanquished, suffered themselves to be flame every mother's child. The fifty, after they had massacred every living soul remaining in the City, and set fire to the heap, joyfully leapt there-into, ending their generous liberty in a state rather insensible, then dolorous and reproachful; showing their enemies, that if fortune had been so pleased, they should aswell have had the courage to bereave them of the victory, as they had to yield it them both vain and hideous, yea, and mortal to those, who alured by the glittering of the gold, that molten ran from out the flame, thick and threefold approaching greedily unto it, were therein smothered & burned, the foremost being unable to give back, by reason of the throng that followed them. The Abideans pressed by Philip, resolved upon the very same, but being prevented, the King whose heart yearned and abhorred to see the fond-rash precipitation of such an execution (having first seizedupon and saved the treasure, and movables, which they had diversely condemned to the flames and utter spoil) retiring all the Soldiers, granting them the full space of three days to make themselves away, that so they might do it with more order and leisure: which three days they replenished with blood and murder beyond all hostile cruelty: And which is strange, there was no one person saved, that had power upon himself. There are infinite examples of suchlike popular conclusions, which seem more violent, by how much more the effect of them is more universal. They are less than several, what discourse would not do in every one, it doth in all: The vehemence of society, ravishing particular judgements. Such as were condemned to die in the time of Tiberius, and delayed their execution any while, lost their goods, and could not be buried; but such as prevented the same, in killing themselves, were solemnly interred, & might at their pleasure, bequeath such goods as they had to whom they list. But a man doth also sometimes desire death, in hope of a greater good. I desire (saith Saint Paul) to be out of this world, that I may be with jesus Christ: and who shall release me out of these bonds? Cleombrotus Ambraciota having read Plato's Phaedon, was so possessed with a desire and longing for an afterlife, that without other occasion or more ado, he went and headlong cast himself into the sea. Whereby it appeareth how improperly we call this voluntary dissolution, despair; unto which the violence of hope doth often transport-us, and as often a peaceful & settled inclination of judgement. jaques du castle Bishop of Soissons, in the voyage which Saint Lewes undertook beyond the Seas, seeing the King & all his Army ready to return into France, and leave the affairs of Religion imperfect, resolved with himself rather to go to heaven; And having bidden his friend's farewell, in the open view of all men, rushed alone into the enemy's troops of whom he was forthwith hewn in pieces. In a certain kingdom of these late-discovered Indies, upon the day of a solemn procession, in which the Idols they adore, are publicly carried up and down, upon a chariot of exceeding greatness: besides that, there are many seen to cut and slice great mammocks of their quick flesh, to offer the said Idols; there are numbers of others seen, who prostrating themselves alongst upon the ground, endure very patiently to be mouldered and crushed to death, under the Chariot's wheels, thinking thereby to purchase after their death, a veneration of holiness, of which they are not defrauded. The death of this Bishop, armed as we have said, argueth more generosity, and less sense: the heat of the combat ammusing one part of it. Some commonwealths there are, that have gone about to sway the justice, and direct the opportunity of voluntary deaths. In our City of Marseille, they were wont in former ages, ever to keep some poison in store, prepared and compounded with hemlock, at the City's charge, for such as would upon any occasion shorten their days, having first approved the reasons of their enterprise unto the six hundred Elders of the Town, which was their Senate: For, otherwise it was unlawful for any body, except by the Magistrate's permission, and for very lawfully-urgent occasions, to lay violent hands upon himself. The very same law was likewise used in other places. Sextus Pompeius going into Asia, passed through the Island of Cea, belonging to Negropont; it fortuned whilst he abode there, (as one reporteth that was in his company) that a woman of great authority, having first yielded an account unto her Citizens, and showed good reasons why she was resolved to end her life, earnestly entreated Pompey to be an assistant at her death, that so it might be esteemed more honourable, which he assented unto; and having long time in vain sought, by virtue of his eloquence (wherein he was exceeding ready) and force of persuasion, to alter her intent, and remove her from her purpose, in the end yielded to her request. She had lived four score and ten years in a most happy estate of mind and body, but then lying on her bed, better adorned then before she was accustomed to have-it, and leaning on her elbow, thus she bespoke: The Gods, Oh Sextus Pompeius and rather those I forego, than those I go unto, reward and appay thee, for that thou hast vouchsafed to be both a counsellor of my life, and a witness of my death. As for my part, having hitherto ever tasted the favourable visage of fortune, for fear the desire of living overlong should make me taste of her frowns, with an happy an successful end, I will now depart, and licence the remainder of my soul, leaving behind me two daughters of mine, with a legion of grandchildren and nephews. That done, having preached unto, and exhorted all her people and kinsfolks to an unity and peace, and divided her goods amongst them, and recommended her household Gods unto her eldest daughter, with an assuredly-staide hand she took the cup, wherein the poison was, and having made her vows unto Mercury, and prayers, to conduct her unto some happy place in the other world, roundly swallowed that mortal potion; which done, she entertained the company with the progress of her behaviour, and as the parts of her body were one after another possessed with the cold operation of that venom; until such time as she said, she felt-it work at the heart and in her entrails, she called her daughter to do her the last office, and close her eyes. Pliny reporteth of a certain Hiperborean nation, wherein, by reason of the mild temperature of the air, the inhabitants thereof, commonly never die, but when they please to make themselves away, and that being weary and tired with living, they are accustomed at the end of a long-long age; having first made merry and good cheer with their friends, from the top of an heigh-steedie rock, appointed for that purpose, to cast themselves headlong into the Sea. Grieving-smart, and a worse death seem to me the most excusable incitations. The fourth Chapter. To Morrow is a new day. I Do with some reason, as me seemeth, give prick and praise unto jaques Amiot above all our French writers, not only for his natural purity, and pure elegancy of the tongue, wherein he excelleth all others, nor for his indefatigable constancy of so long and toilsome a labour, nor for the unsearchable depth of his knowledge, having so successefully-happy been able to explain an Author so close and thorny, and unfold a writer so mysterious and entangled (for, let any man tell me what he list; I have no skill of the Greek, but I see through out all his translation a sense so closely-joynted, and so pithily-continued, that either he hath assuredly understood and inned the very imagination, and the true conceit of the Author, or having through a long and continual conversion, lively planted in his mind a general Idea of that of Plutarch, he hath at least lent him nothing that doth be●●e him, or mis seem him) but above all, I kon him thanks that he hath had the hap to choose, and knowledge to cull out so worthy a work, and a book so fit to the purpose, therewith to make so unvaluable a present unto his Country. We that are in the number of the ignorant had been utterly confounded, had not his book raised us from out the dust of ignorance: God-a-mercy his endeavours we dare not both speak and write: Even Ladies are therewith able to confront Masters of arts: It is our breviary. If so good a man chance to live, I bequeath Xenophon unto him, to do as much. It is an easier piece of work, and so much the more agreeing with his age. Moreover, I wot not how me seemeth, although he roundly and clearly disentangle himself from hard passages, that notwithstanding his style is more close and nearer itself, when it is not laboured and wrested, and that it glideth smoothly at his pleasure. I was even now reading of that place, where Plutarch speaketh of himself, that Rusticus being present at a declamation of his in Rome, received a packet from the Emperor, which he temporised to open until he had made an end: wherein (saith he) all the assistants did singularly commend the gravity of the man. Verily, being on the instance of curiosity, and on the greedy and insatiate passion of news, which with such indiscreet impatience, and impatient indiscretion, induceth us to neglect all things, for to entertain a newcome guest, and forget all respect and countenance, wheresoever we be, suddenly to breakup such letters as are broughtus; he had reason to commend the gravity of Rusticus: to which he might also have added the commendation of his civility and courtesy, for that he would not interrupt the course of his declamation; But I make a question, whether he might be commended for his wisdom: for, receiving unexpected letters, and especially from an Emperor, it might very well have fortuned, that his deferring to read them, might have caused some notable inconvenience. Recklessness is the vice contrary unto curiosity; towards which I am naturally inclined, and wherein I have seen many men so extremely plunged, that three or four days after the receiving of letters, which hath been sent them, they have been found in their pockets yet unopened. I never opened any, not only of such as had been committed to my keeping, but of such as by any fortune came to my hands. And I make a conscience, standing near some great person, if mine eyes chance, at unwares, to steal some knowledge of any letters of importance that he readeth. Never was man less inquisitive, or pried less into other men's affairs, than I. In our father's time; the Lord of Bo●●ieres was like to have lost Turwin, forsomuch as being one night at supper in very good company, he deferred the reading of an advertisement, which was delivered him of the treasons that were practised and complotted against that City, where he commanded. And Plutarch himself hath taught me, that julius Caesar had escaped death, if going to the Senate-house, that day wherein he was murdered by the Conspirators, he had read a memorial which was presented unto him. Who likewise reporteth the story of Archias, the Tyrant of Thebes, how the night foregoing the execution of the enterprise that Pelopidas had complotted to kill him, thereby to set his Country at liberty: another Archias of Athens writ him a letter, wherein he particularly related unto him all that was conspired and complotted against him; which letter being delivered him whilst he ●ate at supper, he deferred the opening of it, pronouncing this byword: To morrow is a new day, which afterward was turned to a Proverb in Greece. A wise man may, in mine opinion, for the interest of others, as not unmannerly to break company, like unto Rusticus, or not to discontinue some other affair of importance, remit and defer to understand such news as are brought him: but for his own private interest or particular pleasure, namely, if he be a man having public charge, if he regard his dinner so much, that he will not break-it off, or his sleep, that he will not interrupt-it: to do it, is inexcusable. And in former ages was the Consulare-place in Rome, which they named the most honourable at the table, because it was more free and more accessible for such as might casually come in, to entertain him that should be there placed. Witness, that though they were sitting at the board, they neither omitted nor gave over the managing of other affairs, and following of other accidents. But when all is said, it is very hard, chiefly in human actions, to prescribe so exact rules by discourse of reason, that fortune do not sway, and keep her right in them. The fifth Chapter. Of Conscience. MY brother the Lord of Bronze and myself, during the time of our civil wars, traveling one day together, we fortuned to meet upon the way with a Gentleman, in outward semblance, of good demeanour: He was of our contrary faction, but forasmuch as he counterfeited himself otherwise; I knew it not. And the worst of these tumultuous intestine broils, is, that the cards are so shuffled (your enemy being neither by language nor by fashion, nor by any other apparent mark distinguished from you; nay, which is more, brought up under the same laws and customs, and breathing the same air) that it is a very hard matter to avoid confusion and shun disorder. Which consideration, made me not a little fearful to meet with our troops, especially where I was not known, lest I should be urged to tell my name, and haply do worse. As other times before it had befallen me; for, by such a chance, or rather mistaking, I fortuned once to lose all my men and horses, and hardly escaped myself: and amongst other my losses, and servants that were slain, the thing that most grieved me, was the untimely and miserable death of a young Italian Gentleman, whom I kept as my Page, and very carefully brought-up, with whom died, as forward, as budding and as hopeful a youth as ever I saw. But this man seemed so fearfully-dismaid, and at every encounter of horsemen, and passage, by, or through any Town that held for the King, I observed him to be so strangely distracted, that in the end I perceived, and guessed they were but guilty alarms that his conscience gave him. It seemed unto this silly man, that all might apparently, both through his blushing self-accusing countenance, and by the crosses he wore upon his upper garments, read the 〈◊〉 intentions of his aint-heart. Of such marvailous-working power is the sting of conscience: which often induceth us to bewray, to accuse, and to combat ourselves; and for want of other evidences she produceth ourselves against ourselves, Occultum quatsente anim● tortore flagellum. juven. Sat. 13. 195. Their mind, the tormentor of sin, Shaking an unseen whip within. The story of Bessus the Poenian is so common, that even children have it in their mo●ths, who being found fault withal, that in mirth he had beaten-downe a nest of young Sparrows, and then killed them, answered, he had great reason to do-it, forsomuch as those young birds ceased not falsely to accuse him to have murdered his father, which parricide was never suspected to have been committed by him; and until that day had lain secret; but the revengeful suries of the conscience, made the same party to reveal it, that by all right was to do penance for so hateful and unnatural a murder. Hesiodus correcteth the saying of Plato. That punishment doth commonly succeed the guilt, and follow sin at hand: for, he affirmeth, that it rather is borne at the instant, and together with sin itself, and they are as twins borne at one birth together. Whosoever expects punishment, suffereth the same, and whosoever deferveth it, he doth expect▪ it. Imprease doth invent, and iniquity doth frame torments against itself. Malum consilium consultori pessimum. Eras. chil. 1. cent. 2. ad 14. Bad counsel is worst for the counsellor that gives the counsel. Even as the Wasp stingeth and offendeth others, but herself much more; for, in hurting others, she looseth her force and sting for ever. — vitásque in vulnere ponunt. Virg. Georg. li 4. 238. They, while they others sting, Death to themselves do bring. The Cantharideses have some part in them, which by a contrariety of nature serveth as an antidote or counterpoison against their poison: so likewise, as one taketh pleasure in vice, there is a certain contrary displeasure engendered in the conscience, which by sundry irksome and painful imaginations, perplexeth and tormenteth us, both waking and asleep. Quip ubi se multi per somnia saepe loquentes, Luer. l. 5. 1168. Aut morbo delirantes procraxe ferantur, Et celata diu in medium peccata dedisse. Many in dreams oft speaking, or unhealed, In sickness raving have themselves revealed, And brought to light their sins long time concealed. Apollodorus dreamt he saw himself first flayed by the Scythians, and then boiled in a pot, and that his own heart murmured, saying; I only have caused this mischief to light upon thee. Epicurus was wont to say, that no lurking hole can shroud the wicked; for, they can never assure themselves to be sufficiently hidden, sithence conscience is ever ready to disclose them to themselves. — prima est haec vl●io, quód se juven. Sat. 13. ● judice nemo n●cens absolvitur. This is the first revenge, no guilty mind Is quitted, though itself be judge assigned. Which as it doth fill us with fear and doubt, so doth it store us with assurance and trust. And I may boldly say, that I have waded through many dangerous hazards, with a more untired pace, only in consideration of the secret knowledge I had of mine own will, and innocency of my designs. Conscia mens ut cuique sua est, ita concipit intra ovid. ●ast. l●b. 1. 485. — Pectora pro facto spèmque metúmque suo. As each man's mind is guilty, so doth he Inly breed hope and fear, as his deeds be. Of examples, there are thousands; It shall suffice us to allege three only, and all of one man. Scipio being one day accused before the Roman people, of an urgent and capital accusation; in stead of excusing himself, or flattering the judges; turning to them, he said. It will well beseem you to undertake to judge of his head, by whose means you have authority to judge of all the world. The same man, another time, being vehemently urged by a Tribune of the people, who charged him with sundry imputations, in lieu of pleading or excusing his cause gave him this sudden and short answer. Let us go (quoth he) my good Citizens'; letus forthwith go (I say) to give hearty thanks unto the Gods for the victory, which even upon such a day as this is, they gave me against the Carthaginians. And therewith advancing h●● self to march before the people, all the assembly, and even his accuser himself did undelayedly follow him towards the Temple. After that, Pe●●lius having been animated and stirred up by C●●● to solicit and demand a strict account of him, of the money 〈◊〉 had ●●auaged, and which was committed to his trust, whilst he was in the Province of 〈◊〉; Scipio being come into the Senate-house, of purpose to answer for himself, pulling ou● the book of his accounts from under his gown, told them all, that that book contained truly, both the receipt and laying out thereof; and being required to deliver the same unto a Clerk to register it, he refused to doe-it, saying, he would not do himself that wrong or indignity; and thereupon with his own hands, in presence of all the Senate, tore the book in pieces. I cannot apprehend or believe, that a guiltie-cauterized conscience could possil lie dissemble or counterfeit such an undismaied assurance: His heart was naturally too great, and enured to overhigh fortune (saith T●tus Livi●s) to know how to be a criminal offender, and stoopingly to yield himself to the baseness, to defend his innocency. Torture and racking are dangerous inventions, and seem rather to be trials of patience than Essays of truth. And both he that can, and he that cannot endure them, conceal the truth. For, wherefore shall pain or smart, rather compel me to confess that, which is so indeed, then force me to tell that which is not? And chose, if he who hath not done that whereof he is accused, is sufficiently patient to endure those torments; why shall not he be able to tolerate them, who hath done it, and is guilty indeed; so dear and worthy a reward as life being proposed unto him? I am of opinion, that the ground of his invention, proceedeth from the consideration of the power and faculty of the conscience. For, to the guilty, it seemeth to give a kind of furtherance to the torture, to make him confess his fault, and weakeneth and dismayeth him: and on the other part, it encourageth and strengtheneth the innocent against torture. To say truth, it is a mean full of uncertainty and danger. What would not a man say; nay, what not do, to avoid so grievous pains, and shun such torments? Etiam innocentes cogit mentiri dolour. Sen. prover. Torment to lie sometimes will drive, Even the most innocent alive. Whence it followeth, that he whom the judge hath tortured, because he shall not die an innocent, he shall bring him to his death, both innocent and tortured. Many thousands have thereby charged their heads with false confessions. Amongst which I may well place Phylotas, considering the circumstances of the endictment that Alexander framed against him, and the progress of his torture. But so it is, that (as men say) it is the least evil human weakness could invent: though, in my conceit, very in humanly, and therewith all most unprofitably. Many Nations less barbarous in that, than the Grae●ian, or the Roman, who term them so, judge it a horrible and cruel thing, to rack and torment a man for a fault whereof you are yet in doubt. Is your ignorance long of him? What can he do withal? Are not you unjust, who because you will not put him to death without some cause, you do worse than kill him? And that it is so, consider but how often he rather chooseth to die guiltless, then pass by this information, much more painful, than the punishment or torment; and who many times, by reason of the sherpnesse of it, preventeth, furthereth, yea, and executeth the punishment. I wot not whence I heard this story, but it exactly hath reference unto the conscience of our justice. A country woman accused a soldier before his General, being a most severe justicer, that he, with violence, had snatched from out her poor children's hands, the smal● remainder of some pap or water gruel, which she had only left to sustain them, forsomuch as the Army had ravaged and wasted all. The poor woman, had neither witness nor proof of it; It was but her yea, and his no; which the General perceiving, after he had summoned her to be well advised what thee spoke, and that she should not accuse him wrongfully; for, if she spoke an untruth, she should then be culpable of his accusation: But she constantly persisting to charge him, he forthwith, to discover the truth, and to be thoroughly resolved, caused the accused Soldiers belly to be ripped, who was found faulty, and the poor woman to have said true; whereupon she was discharged. A condemnation instructive to others. The sixth Chapter. Of Exercise or Practise. IT is a hard matter (although our conceit do willingly apply itself unto it) that Discourse and Instruction, should sufficiently be powerful, to direct us to action, and address us to performance, if over and beside that, we do not by experience exercise and frame our mind, to the train whereunto we will range-it: otherwise, when we shall be on the point of the effects, it will doubtless find itself much engaged and impeached. And that is the reason why amongst Philosophers, those that have willed to attain to some greater excellence, have not been content, at home, and at rest to expect the rigours of fortune, for fear she should surprise them unexperienced and find them novices, if she should chance to enter fight with them; but have rather gone to meet and front her before, and witting-earnestly cast themselves to the trial of the hardest difficulties. Some have thereby voluntarily forsaken great riches, only to practise a voluntary poverty: others have willingly found out labour, and an austerity of a toilsome life, thereby to harden and enure themselves to evil, and travel: othersome have frankly deprived themselves of the dearest and best parts of their body, as of their eyes, and members of generation, lest their over-pleasing, and tootoo wanton service, might in any sort mollify and distract the constant resolution of their mind. But to die, which is the greatest work we have to do, exercise can nothing avail us thereunto. A man may, by custom and experience, fortify himself against grief, sorrow, shame, want, and such like accidents: But concerning death, we can but once feel and try the same. We are all novices, and new to learn when we come unto it. There have, in former times, been found men so good husbands and thrifty of time, that even in death they have assayed to taste and savour it; and bent their mind to observe and see, what manner of thing that passage of death was; but none did ever yet come back again to tell us tidings ofit. — nemo expergi●us extat Lu●r. 3. 973. Frigida quem semel est vit aipausasequut●. No man doth ever-ofter wake, Whom once his life's cold rest doth take. Canius julius, a noble Roman, a man of singular virtue and constancy, having been condemned to death by that lewdly-mischievous monster of men, Caligula: besides many marvellous evident assurances he gave of his matchless resolution, when he was even in the nick to endure the last stroke of the executioner; a Philosopher, being his friend, interrupted him with this question, saying: Canius, in what state is your soul now; what doth she; what thoughts possess you now; I thought (answered he) to keep me ready and prepared with all my force, tosee whether in this instant of death, so short and so near at hand, I might perceive some dislodging or distraction of the soul, and whether it will show some feeling of her sudden departure; that (if I apprehend or learn anything of her) I may afterward, if I can, return, and give advertisement thereof unto my friends. Loe-here a Philosopher, not only until death, but even in death itself: what assurance was it, and what fierceness of courage, to will that his own death should serve him as a lesson, and have leisure to think elsewhere in a matter of such consequence; — it is hoc animi morientis habebat. Lucan. l. ●. 63● This power of mind had he, When it from him did flee. Me seemeth nevertheless, that in some sort there is a mean to familiarize ourselves with it, and to assay-it. We may have some experience of it, if not whole and perfect, at least such as may not altogether be unprofitable, and which may yield us better fortified and more assured. If we cannot attain unto it, we may at least approch-it, and discern the same: And if we cannot enter her sort, yet shall we see and frequent the approaches untoit. It is not with out reason we are taught to take notice of our sleep, for the resemblance it hath with death. How easily we pass from waking to sleeping; with how little interest we lose the knowledge of light, and of ourselves. The faculty of sleep might happily seem unprofitable, and against nature, sithence it depriveth us of all actions, and barreth us of all sense, were it not that nature doth thereby instruct us, that she hath equally made us, as well to live, as to die; and by life presenteth the eternal state unto us, which she after the same reserveth for us, so to accustom us thereunto, and remove the fear of it from us. But such as by some violent accident are fallen into a faintness of heart, and have lost all senses, they, in mine opinion, have well-nigh been, where they might behold her true and natural visage: For, touching the instant or moment of the passage, it is not to be feared, it should bring any travel or displeasure withit, forasmuch as we can have, nor sense, nor feeling without leisure. Our sufferances have need of time, which is so short, and plunged in death, that necessarily it must be insensible. It is the approaches that lead unto it we should fear; and those may fall within the compass of man's experience. Many things seem greater by imagination, then by effect. I have passed over a good part of my age in sound and perfect health. I say, not only sound, but blithe and wantonly-lustfull. That state full of lust, of prime and mirth, made me deem the consideration of sicknesses so irksome and horrible, that when I came to the experience of them, I have found their fits but weak, and their assaults but faint, in respect of my apprehended fear. Lo here what I daily prove. Let me be under a roof, in a good chamber, warme-clad, and well at ease in some tempestuous and stormy night. I am exceedingly perplexed, and much grieved for such as are abroad, and have no shelter: But let me be in the storm myself, I do not so much as desire to be elsewhere. Only to be continually penned up in a chamber, seemed in tolerable to me. I have now enured myself to live a whole week, yea a month in my chamber full of care, trouble, alteration and weakness; and have found, that in the time of my best health I moaned such as were sick, much more, than I can well moan myself when I am ill at ease: and that the power of my apprehension did well-nigh half endear the essence and truth of the thing itself. I am in good hope the like will happen to me of death: and that it is not worth the labour I take for so many preparations as I prepare against her; and so many helps as I call ●osustaine, and assemble to endure the ●●ocke and violence of it. But hab or nab can never take too much advantage of it. During our second or third troubles (I do not well remember which) I fortuned one day, for recreation-sake, to go forth and take the air, about a league from my house, who am seated even in the bowels of all troubles of our civil wars of France, supposing to be most safe, so near mine own ho●e and petreite, that I had no need of better attendance or equipage. I was mounted upon a very easie-going nag, but not very sure. At my returning home again, a sudden occasion being offered me, to make use of this nag in a piece of service, whereto he was neither trained not accustomed, one of my men (astrong sturdy fellow) mounted upon a young strong-headed horse, and that had a desperate hard mouth, fresh, lusty and in breath; to show his courage, and to outgo his fewoes, fortuned with might and main to set spurs unto him, and giving him the bridle, to come right into the path where I was, and as a Colossus with his weight riding over me and my nag, that were both very little, he overthrew us both, and made us fall with our heels upward: so that the nag lay along astonished in one place, and I in a trance grovelling on the ground ten or twelve paces wide of him; my face all torn and bruised, my sword which I had in my hand a good way from me, my girdle broken, with no more motion or sense in me then a stock. It is the only swooning that ever I felt yet. Those that were with me, after thy had assayed all possible means to bring me to myself again, supposing me dead, took me in their arms, and with much ado were carrying me home to my-house, which was about half a french league thence: upon the way, & after I had for two hours space, by all, been supposed dead and past all recovery, I began to stir and breath: for, so great abundance of blood was fallen into my stomach, that to discharge it, nature was forced to roweze up her spirits. I was immediately set upon my feet, and bending forward, I presently cast up, n quantity as much clottie pure blood, as abucket will hold, and by the way was constrained to do the like diverse times before I could get home, whereby I began to recover ●●ttle life, but it was by little and little, and so long adoing, that my chief senses were much more inclining to death then to life. Per che dubbiosa anchor del suo riterne Nons ' assicura at tonita la mente. For yet the mind doubtful its return Is not assured, but astonished. The remembrance whereof (which yet I bear deeply imprinted in my mind) representing me her visage and Idea so livele and so naturally, doth in some sort reconcile me unto her. And when I began to see, it was with so dim, so weak and so troubled a sight, that I could not discrene any thing of the light, — come quel ●'hor'aepre, hor chiude Gliocchij, mezzo tral sonno el esser desto. As he that sometimes opens, sometimes shuts His eyes, between sleep and awake. Touching the function of the soul, they started up and came in the same progress as those of the body. I perceived myself all bloody; for my doublet was all sullied with the blood I had cast. The first conceit I apprehended, was, that I had received some shot in my head; and in truth, at the same instant, there were diverse that shot round about us. Me thought, myself had no other hold of me, but of my lippes-ends. I closed mine eyes, to help (as me seemed) to send it forth, and took a kind of pleasure to linger and languishingly to let myself go from myself. It was an imagination swimming superficially in my mind, as weak and as tender as all the rest: but in truth, not only exempted from displeasure, but rather commixed with that pleasant sweetness, which they feel that suffer themselves to fall into a soft-slumbring and sense-entrancing sleep. I believe it is the same state, they find themselves in, whom in the agony of death we see to droop and faint thorough weakness: and am of opinion, we plain and moan them without cause, esteeming that either they are agitated with grievous pangs, or that their soul is pressed with painful cogitations. It was ever my conceit, against the opinion of many, yea and against that of Stephanus lafoy Boetie, that those whom we see, so overwhelmed, and faintly-drooping at the approaches of their end, or utterly cast down with the lingering tediousness of their diseases, or by accident of some apoplexy, or falling-evill, — (vi morbi saepe ●oactus Luer. li. 3. 490. Ante oculos aliquis nostros ut fulminis ictu. Concidit, & spumas agit, ingemit, & fremit artus, Desipit, extent at neruos, torquetur, anhelat, Inconstanter & in iactando membra fatigat) (Some man by force of sickness driven doth fall, As if by thunder stroke, before our eyes; He foams, he groans, he trembles over all, He raves, he stretches, he's vexed, panting lies, He tyr's his limbs by tossing, Now this now that way crossing.) or hurt in the head, whom we hear throb and rattle, and send forth groans and gaps, although we gather some tokens from them, whereby it seemeth, they have yet some knowledge left and certain motions we see them make with their body: I say, I have ever thought, they had their soul and body buried and a sleep. Vivat & est vitae nescius ipse suae. Ovid. trist. lib. 1. el. 3. 12. He lives yet knows not he, That he alive should be. And I could not believe, that at so great an astonishment of members, and deffailance of senses, the soul could maintain any force within, to know herself; and therefore had no manner of discourse tormenting them, which might make them judge and feel the misery of their condition, and that consequently they were not greatly to be moaned. As for myself, I imagine no state so intolerable nor condition so horrible, as to have a feelingly-afflicted soul, void of means to disburden and declare herself: As I would say of those we send to execution, having first caused their tongue to be cut out, were it not that in this manner of death, the most dumb seems unto me the fittest, namely if it be accompanied with a resolute and grave countenance. And as those miserable prisoners which light in the hands of those hard-hearted and villainous Soldiers of these times, of whom they are tormented with all manner of cruel entreaty, by compulsion to draw them unto some excessive and unpossible ransom, keeping them all that while in so hard a condition and place, that they have no way left them to utter their thoughts and express their misery. The Poets have feigned, there were some Gods, that favoured the release of such as suffered so languishing deaths. — hunc ego Diti Virg. Aen. lib. 4. 703. ●r●. Sacrumiussa fero, téque isto corpore soluo. This to death sacred, I, as was my charge, Do bear, and from this body thee enlarge. And the faltering speeches and uncertain answers, that by continual ringing in their ears and incessanturging them are sometimes by force wrested from them or by the motions which seem to have some sympathy with that whereof they are examined, is notwithstanding no witness, that they live at least a perfect sound life. We do also in yawning, before fleep fully seize upon us, apprehend as it were in a slumber, what is done about us, and with a troubled and uncertain hearing, follow the voices, which seem to sound but on the outward limits of our soul; and frame answers according to the last words we heard, which taste more of chance then of sense: which thing now I have proved by experience, I ●ake no doubt, but hitherto, I have well judged of it. For, first lying as in a trance, I laboured even with my na les to open my doublet (for I was unarmed) and well I wot, that in ●●y imagination I felt nothing did hurt me. For, there are several motions in us, which preceded not of our free will▪ Sem●animésque micant digiti▪ ferrúmque retractant. lib. 10. 396. The half-dead fingers stir, and feel, (Though it they cannot stir) for steel. Those that fall, do commonly by a natural impulsion cast their arms abroad before their falling, which showeth, that our members have certain offices, which they lend one to another, and possess certain agitations, apart from our discourse: Falciferos memorant currus abscindere membra, Leur. li. 3. Vt tremere in terra videatur ab artubus, id quod Decidit abscissum, cum mens tamen atque hominis vis Mobilitate mali non quit sentire dolorem. They say, sith-bearing chariots limbs bereave, So as on earth, that which cut-off they leave, Doth seem to quake, when yet man's force and mind Doth not the pain, through so quick motion, find. My stomach was surcharged with clotted blood, my hands of themselves were still running to it, as often they are wont (yea against the knowledge of our will) where we feel it to itch. There are many creatures, yea and some men, in whom after they are dead, we may see their muscles to close and stir. All men know by experience, there be some parts of our bodies, which often without any consent of ours, do stir, stand and lie down again. Now these passions, which but exteriorly touch us, can not properly be termed ours; For, to make them ours, a man must wholly be engaged unto them: And the pains that our feet or hands feel whilst we sleep, are not ours. When I came near my house, where the tidings of my fall was already come, and those of my household met me, with such outcries as are used in like times, I did not only answer some words, to what I was demanded, but some tell me, I had the memory to command my men to give my wife a horse, whom I perceived to be overtired, and labouring in the way, which is very hilly, fowl, and rugged. It seemeth this consideration proceeded from a vigilant soul: yet was I clean distracted fromit, they were but vain conceits, and as in a cloud, only moved by the sense of the eyes and ears: They came not from myself. All which notwithstanding, I knew neither whence I came, nor whither I went, nor could I understand or consider what was spoken unto me. They were but light effects, that my senses produced of themselves, as it were of custom. Whatsoever the soul did assistit with, was but a dream, being lightly touched, and only sprinkled by the soft impression of the senses. In the mean time my state was verily most pleasant and easeful. I felt no manner of care or affliction, nither for myself nor others. It was a slumbering, langushing and extreme weakness, without any pain at all. I saw mine own house and knew it not; when I was laid in my bed, I felt great ease in my rest, For I had been vilely hurled and haled by those poor men, which had taken the pains to carry me upon their arms a long and wearisome way, and to say truth, they had all been wearied twice or thrice over, and were feign to shift several times. Many remedies were presently offered me, but I took none, supposing verily I had been deadly hurt in the head. To say truth, it had been a very happy death: For, the weakness of my discourse hindered me from judging of it, and the feebleness of my body from feeling the same. Methought I was yielding up the ghost so gently, and after so easy and indolent a manner, that I feel no other action less burdensome than that was. But when I began to come to life again and recover my former strength, Vt tandem sensus convaluere mei, Ovid. Trist. li. 1 ●l. 3. 14. At last when all the spirits I bear, Recalled and recollected were, which was within two or three hours after, I presently felt myself full of aches and pains all my body over; for, each part thereof was with the violence of the fall much bruised and tainted; and for two or three nights after I found myself so ill, that I verily supposed I should have had another fit of death: But that a more lively, and sensible one: (and to speak plain) I feel my bru●●● yet, and fear me shall do while I live: I will not forget to tell you, that the last thing I could rightly fall into again, was the remembrance of this accident, and I made my men many times to repeat me over and over again, whither I was going, whence I came, and at what hour that chance befell me, before I could thoroughly conceive it. Concerning the manner of my falling they in favour of him who had been the cause of it, concealed the truth from me, and told me other flim flam tales. But a while after, and the morrow next when my memory began to come to itself again, and represent the state unto me, wherein I was at the instant, when I perceived the horse riding over me (for being at my heels, I chanced to espy him, and held myself for dead; yet was the conceit so sudden, that fear had no leisure to enter my thoughts) me seemed it was a flashing or lightning, that smote my soul with shaking, and that I came from another world. This discourse of so slight an accident, is but vain and frivolous, were not the instructions I have drawn from thence, for my use: For truly, for a man to acquaint himself with death, I find no better way, then to approach unto it. Now as Pliny saith, every man is a good discipline unto himself always provided he be able to pry into himself. This is not my doctrine, it is but my study; And not another man's lesson, but mine own. Yet ought no man to blame me if I impart the same. What serves my turn, may happily serve another man's; otherwise I mar nothing, what I make use of, is mine own. And if I play the fool, it is at mine own cost, and without any other body's interest. For it is but a kind of folly, that dies in me, and hath no train. We have notice but of two or three former ancients, that have trodden this path; yet can we not say, whether altogether like unto this of mine, for we know but their names. No man since hath followed their steps: it is a thorny and crabbed enterprise, and more than it makes show of, to follow so strange and vagabond a path, as that of our spirit: to penetrate the shady, and enter the thicke-covered depths of these internal winding cranks; To choose so many, and settle so several airs of his agitations: And 'tis a new extraordinary ammusing, that distracts us from the common occupation of the world, yea and from the most recommended: Many years are past since I have no other aim, whereto my thoughts bend, but myself, and that I control and study nothing but myself. And if I study any thing else, it is immediately to place it upon, or to say better, in myself. And me thinks I err not, as commonly men do in other sciences, without all comparison less profitable. I impart what I have learned by this, although I greatly con●ent not myself with the progress I have made therein. There is no description so hard, nor so profitable, as is the description of a man's own life. Yet must a man handsomely trim up, yea and dispose and range himself to appear on the Theatre of this world. Now I continually trick up myself; for I uncessantly describe myself. Custom hath made a man's speech of himself, vicious. And obstinately forbids it in hatred of boasting, which ever seemeth closely to follow one's self witnesses, whereas a man should wipe a child's nose, that is now called to un nose himself. In vicium ducis culpae fuga. Her. art poet. 31 Some shunning of some sin, Do draw some further in. I find more evil than good by this remedy: But suppose it were true, that for a man to entertain the company with talking of himself, were necessarily presumption: I ought not following my general intent, to refuse an action, that publisheth this crazed quality, since I have it in myself: and I should not conceal this fault, which I have not only in use, but in profession. Nevertheless to speak my opinion of it, this custom to condemn wine is much to blame, because many are therewith made drunk. Only good things may be abused. And I believe this rule hath only regard to popular defects: They are snaffles wherewith neither Saints, nor Philosophers, nor Divines, whom we hear so gloriously to speak of then sulves, will in any sort be bridled. No more do I, though I be no more the one than other. If they write purposely or directly of it, yet when occasion doth conveniently lead them unto it, feign they not, headlong to cast themselves into the lists? Whereof doth Scraetes treat more at large, then of himself? To what doth he more often direct his Disciples discourses, then to speak of themselves, not for their books lesson, but of the essence and moving of their soul? We religiously shrive ourselves to God and our confessor as our neighbours to all the people. But will some answer me, we report but accusation; we then report all: For, even our virtue itself is faulty and repentable; My art and profession, is to live. Who forbids me to speak of it, according to my sense, experience, and custom; Let him appoint the Architect to speak of buildings, not according to himself, but his neighbours, according to another's skill, and not his own. If it be a glory, for a man to publish his own worth himself, why doth not Cicero prefer the eloquence of Hortensius, and Hortensius that of Ciceror. Some may peradventure suppose that by deeds and effects and not simply by words, I witness of myself. I principally set forth my cogitations; a shapeletle subject, and which cannot fall within the compass of a workmanlike production: with much ado can I set it down in this airy body of the voice. Wiser men, and more learned and devout, have lived avoiding all apparent effects. Effects would speak more of fortune, then of me. They witness their part, and not mine; unless it be conjecturally and uncertainly: Parcels of a particular show: I wholly set forth and expose myself: It is a Sceletoes; where at first sight appear all the veins, muscles, gristles, sinews, and tendons, each several part in his due place. The effect of the cough produceth one part, that of paleness ot panting of the heart another, and that doubtfully. I write not my gests, but myself and my essence. I am of opinion that a man must be very wise to esteem himself, and equally conscientious to give testimony of it: be it low, be it high indifferently. If I did absolutely seem good and wise unto myself, I would boldly declare it. To speak less of himself than he possesseth, is folly and not modesty. To pay himself for less than he is worth, is baseness and pusilanimity, saith Aristotle. No virtue aids itself with falsehood; and truth is never a matter of error. And yet for a man to say more of himself, than he can well prove, is not ever presumption, though often sottishness. For a man to overween, and please himself exceedingly with what he is, and fall into indifereet love with himself, is in my conceit, the substance of this vice. The best remedy to cure him, is to do clean contrary to that which those appoint, who inforbidding men to speak of themselves, do consequently also inhibit more to think of themselves. Pride consisteth in conceit: The tongue can have no great share in it. For one to ammuse on himself, is in their imagination to please himself: And for a man to frequent and practise himself, is at an over-deare rate to please himself. But this excess doth only breed in them, that but superficially feel and search themselves, that are seen to follow their affairs, which call idleness and fondness, for a man to entertain, to applaud and to endear himself, and frame chimeras, or build Castles in the air; deeming themselves as a third person and strangers to themselves. If any be besotted with his own knowledge, looking upon himself, let him cast his eyes towards former ages, his pride shall be abated, his ambition shall be quailed; for there shall he find many thousands of spirits, that will clean suppress and tread him under. If he fortune to enter into any self-presumption of his own worth, let him but call to remembrance the lives of Scipio and Epaminondas; so many armies, and so many Nations, which leave him so far behind them. No particular quality shall make him proud, that therewith shall reckon so many imperfect and weak qualities that are in him and at last, the nullity of human condition. Forsomuch as Socrates had truly only nibbled on the precept of his God, to know himself, and by that study had learned to contemn himself, he alone was esteemed worthy of the name of Wise. Whosoever shall so know himself, let him boldly make himself known by his own mouth: The seventh Chapter. Of the recompenses or rewards of Honour. THose which write the life of Augustus Caesar, note this in his military discipline, that he was exceeding liberal and lavish in his gifts to such as were of any desert; but as sparing and straithanded in mere recompenses of honour. Yet is it that himself had been liberally gratified by his Uncle with military rewards, before ever he went to wars. It hath been a witty invention, and received in most parts of the world's Commonwealths, to establish and ordain certain vain and worthless marks, therewith to honour and recompense virtue: As are the wreaths of Laurel, the Chaplets of Oak, and the Garlands of Myrtle, the form of a certain peculiar garment; the privilege to ride in Coach through the City; or by night to have a Torch carried before one: Some particular place to sit-in in common assemblies; the prerogatives of certain surnames and titles, and proper additions in arms, and such like things; the use whereof hath been diversly received according to the opinions of Nations, which continueth to this day. We have for our part, together with diverse of our neighbour-Nation, the orders of Knighthood, which only were established to this purpose. Verily it is a most laudable use, and profitable custom, to find means to reward the worth, and acknowledge the valour of rare and excellent men, to satisfy and content them with such payments, as in no sort charge the common wealth, and put the Prince to no cost at all. And that which was ever known by ancient experience, and at other times we have plainly perceived amongst ourselves, that men of quality, were ever more jealous of such recompenses, then of others, wherein was both gain and profit: which was not without reason and great appearance. If to the prize, which ought simply to be of honour, there be other commodities and riches joined, this kind of commixing, in stead of increasing the estimation thereof, doth impair, dissipate, and abridge-it. The order of the Knights of Saint Michael in France, which of so long continuance hath been in credit amongst us, had no greater commodity then that it had no manner of communication with any other advantage or profit, which hath hecretofore been the cause, that there was no charge or state of what quality soever, whereto the nobility pretended with so much desire, or aspired with more affection, as it did to obtain that order; nor calling, that was followed with more respect or greatness. Virtue embracing with more ambition, and more willingly aspiring after a recompense, that is merely and simply her own, and which is rather glorious, then profitable. For, to say truth, other gifts have noose so worthy; masmuch, as they are employed to all manner of occasions. With riches a man doth reward the service of a groom, the diligence of a messenger, the hopping of a dancer, the tricks of a vaulter, the breath of a lawyer, and the basest offices a man may receive; yea, with the same paltry pelf money, vice is paid and sin requited, as flattery, murder, treason, Maqu●relage, and what not? It is then no marvel, if virtue doth less willingly desire this kind of common trash, money, then that which is only proper and peculiar to h●rselfe, and is altogether noble and generous. Auguctus had therefore reason, to be much more niggardly and sparing of this last, then of the former, forasmuch has honour is a privilege which draws his principal essence from rareness: And so doth virtue itself. Cu● malus est nemo, quis bonus esse potest? Mart. l. 12. epig. 82. 2. To him who good can seem, Who doth none bad esteem? We shall not see a man highly regarded, or extraordinarily commended, that is curiously careful to have his children well nurtured, because it is a common action, how just and worthy praise soever it be: no more than one great tree, where the forest is full of such. I do not think that any Spartan Citizen did boastingly glorify himself for his valour, because it was a popular virtue in that Nation: And as little for his fidelity, and contempt of riches. There is no recompense falls unto virtue, how great soever it be, if it once have passed into custom: And I wot not whether we might call it great, being common. Since then the rewards of honour, have no other prize and estimation then that few enjoy it, there is no way to disannul them, but to make a largesse of them. Were there now more men found deserving the same then in former ages, yet should not the reputation of it be corrupted. And it may easily happen that more deserveit: For, there is no virtue, doth so easily spread itself as military valian●●e. There is another, true, perfect, and Philosophical, whereof I speak not (I use this word according to our custom) far greater and more full than this, which is a force and assurance of the soul, equally contemning all manner of contrary accidents, upright, uniform, and constant, whereof ours is but an easy and glimmering ray. Custom, institution, example and fashion, may effect what ever they list in the establishing of that I speak-of, and easily make it vulgar, as may plainly be seen by the experience our civil warts giveus ofit, And whosoever could now join us together, and eagerly flesh all our people to a common enterprise, we should make our ancient military name and chivalrous credit to flourish again. It is most certain that the recompense of our order did not in former times only concern prowiss, and respect valour; it had a further aim. It was never the reward or payment of a valiant soldier; but of a famous Captain. The skill to obey could not deserve so honourable an hire: for, cast we back our eyes to antiquity, we shall perceive, that for the worthy obtaining thereof, there was required more universal war like experinesse, and which might embrace the greatest part, and most parts of a military man; Neque enim eadem militares & imperatoriae artes sunt; for the same arts and parts belong not to a general and common Soldier; and who besides that, should also be of a fit and accommodable condition for such a dignity. But I say, that if more men should now adays be found worthy of it, then have been heretofore, yet should not our Princes be more liberal of it: and it had been much better, not to bestow it upon all them to whom it was due, then for ever to lose, (as of late we have done) the use of so profitable an invention. No man of courage vouch●afeth to advantage himself of that which is common unto many. And those which in our days, have lest merited that honourable recompense, seem, in all appearance, most to disdain it, by that means to place themselves in the rank of those to whom the wrong is offered by unworthy bestowing and vilifying of that badge, which particularly was due unto them. Now by defacing and abolishing this to suppose, suddenly to be able to bring into cridite, and renew a semblable custom, is no convenient enterprise, in so licentious, so corrupted, and so declining an age, as is this wherein we now live. And it will come to pass that the last shall even from her birth incur the incommodities, which have lately ruined and overthrown the other. The rules of this new orders-dispensation had need to be otherwise wrested and constrained, for to give it authority: and this tumultuous season is not capable of a short and ordered bridle. Besides, before a man is able to give credit unto it, it is requisite a man lose the memory of the first, and of the contempt whereinto it is fallen. This place might admit some discourse upon the consideration of valour, and difference between this virtue and others: But Plutarch having often spoken of this matter, it were in vain here for me to repeat what he says of it. This is worthy to be considered, that our nation giveth the chief pre-eminence of all virtue unto valiancy, as the Etymology of the word showeth, which cometh of valour, or worth: and that according to our received custom, when after the phrase of our court and nobility we speak of a worthy man, or of an honest man, we thereby infer no other thing than a valiant man; after the usual Roman fashion. For, the general denomination of virtue doth amongst them take her Etymology, of force or might. The only proper and essential form of our nobility in France, is military vocation. It is very likely, that the first virtue that ever appeared amongst men, and which to some hath given pre-eminence over others, hath been this by which the strongest and more courageous have become masters over the weakest, and purchased a particular rank and reputation to themselves: Whereby this honour and dignity of speech is left unto it: or else these nations being very warlike, have given the price unto that of virtues, which was the worthiest and more familiar unto them. Even as our passion, and this heart-panting, and mind-vexing careful diligence, and diligent carefulness, which we continually apprehend about women's chastity, causeth; also that a good woman, an honest woman, a woman of honour and virtue, doth in effect and substance, signify no other thing unto us, than a chaste wife or woman; as if to bind them to this duty, we did neglect all others, and gave them free liberty to commit any other fault, to covenant with them, never to quit or forsake this one. The eight Chapter. Of the affection of fathers to their children. To the Lady of Estissac. Madam, if strangeness do not save, or novelty shield me, which are wont to give things reputation, I shall never, with honesty, quit myself of this enterprise; yet is it so fantastical, and bears a show so different from common custom, that that may haply purchase-it free passage. It is a melancholy humour, and consequently a hateful enemy to my natural complexion, bred by the anxiety, and produced by the anguish of carking care, whereinto some years since I cast myself, that first put this humorous conceit of writing into my head. And finding myself afterward wholly unprovided of subject, and void of other matter. I have presented myself unto myself for a subject to write, and argument to descant upon. It is the only book in the world of this kind, and of a wild extravagant design. Moreover, there is nothing in it worth●e the marking but this fantasticalness. For, to so vain a ground and base a subject, the worlds best workman, could never have given a fashion deserving to be accompted-of. Now (worthy Lady) sithence I must portray myself to the life, I should have forgotten a part of importance, if therewithal I had not represented the honour I have ever yeeleed to your deserts, which I have especially been willing to declare in the forefront of this Chapter; For as much as amongst your other good parts, and commendable qualities, that of loving amity, which you have shown to your children, holdeth one of the first ranks. Whosoever shall understand and know the age, wherein your late husband the Lord of Estissac left you a Widow, the great and honourable matches have been offered you (as worthy and as many as to any other Lady in France of your condition) the constant resolution, and resolute constancy, wherewith so many years you have sustained, and even in spite, or a thwart so manifold thorny difficulties; the charge and conduct of their affairs, which have tossed, turmoiled and removed you in all corners of France, and still hold you besieged; the happy and successful forwardness you, which only through your wisdom or good fortune have given them, he will easily say with me, that in our age we have no pattern of motherly affection more exemplare; than yours. I praise God (Madam) it hath been so well employed: For, the good hopes, which the young Lord of Estissac, your son giveth of himself, foreshew an undoubted assurance, that when he shall come to years of discretion, you shall reap the obedience of a noble, and find the acknowledgement of a good child. But because, by reason of his childhood, he could not take notice of the exceeding kindness and manifold offices he hath received from you, my meaning is, that if ever these my compositions shall haply one day come into his hands (when peradventure I shall neither have mouth nor speech to declare it unto him) he receive this testimony in all verity from me; which shall also more lively be testified unto him by the good effects, (whereof, if so it please God, he shall have a sensible feeling) that there is no Gentleman in France, more indebted to his mother, than he; and that hereafter he cannot yield a more certain proof of his goodness, and testimony of his virtue, then in acknowledging and confessing you for such. If there be any truely-naturall law, that is to say, any instinct, universally and perpetually imprinted, both in beasts and us, (which is not without controversy) I may, according to mine opinion, say, that next to the care, which each living creature hath to his preservation, and to fly what doth hurt him; the affection which the engenderer beareth his offspring, holds the second place in this rank. And forasmuch as nature seemeth to have recommended the same untous, aiming to extend, increase, and advance, the successive parts or parcels of this her frame. It is no wonder if back▪ again it is not so great from children unto fathers. This other Aristotelian consideration remembered: That he who doth benefit another, loveth him better than he is beloved of him again: And he to whom a debt is owing, loveth better, than he that oweth: And every workman loveth his work better, than he should be beloved of it again, if it had sense or feeling. Forasmuch as we love to be; and being consisteth in moving and action. Therefore is every man, in some sort or other in his own workmanship. Whosoever doth a good deed, exerciseth a fair and honest action: Whosoever receiveth, exerciseth only a profitable action. And profit is nothing so much to be esteemed or loved as honesty. Honesty is firm and permanent, affording him that did it, a constant gratification. Profit is very slippery, and easily lost, nor is the memory of it so sweet, or so fresh. Such things are dearest unto us, that have cost us most: And to give, is of more cost then to take. Since it hath pleased God to endow-us with some capacity of discourse, that as beasts we should not servily be subjected to common laws, but rather with judgement and voluntary liberty apply ourselves unto them; we ought somewhat to yield unto the simple authority of Nature: but not suffer her tyrannically to carrie-us away: only reason ought to have the conduct of our inclinations. As for me, my taste is strangely distasted to its propensions, which in us are produced without the ordinance and direction of our judgement. As upon this subject I speak-of, I cannot receive this passion, wherewith some embrace children scarcely borne, having neither motion in the soul, nor form well to be distinguished in the body, whereby they might make themselves lovely or amiable. And I could never well endure to have them brought up or nursed near about me. A true and well ordered affection, aught to be borne and augmented, with the knowledge they give us of themselves; and then, if they deserveit (natural inclination marching hand in hand with reason) to cherish and make much of them, with a perfect fatherly love and loving friendship, and conformably to judge of them if they be otherwise, always yielding ourselves unto reason, notwithstanding naturll power. For the most part; it goeth clean contrary, and commonly feel ourselves more moved with the sports, idleness, wantonness, and infant-trifles of our children, than afterward we do with all their actions, when they be men: As if we had loved them for our pastimes, as we do apes, monkeys, or perokitoes, and not as men. And some that liberally furnish them with sporting babbles while they be children, will miserably pinch it in the least expense for necessaries when they grow men. Nay, it seemeth that the jealousy we have to see them appear into, and enjoy the world, when we are ready to leave them, makes us more sparing and close-handed toward them. It vexeth and grieveth us when we see them following us at our heels, supposing they solicit us to be gone hence: And if we were to fear that since the order of things beareth, that they cannot indeed, neither be, nor live, but by our being and life, we should not meddle to be fathers. As for me, I deem it a kind of cruelty and injustice, not to receive them into the share and society of our goods, and to admit them as Partners in the understanding of our domestical affairs (if they be once capable of it) and not to cut off and shut- up our commodities to provide for theirs, since we have engendered them to that purpose. It is mere injustice to see an old, crazed, sinnow-shronken, and nigh dead father sitting alone in a Chimny-corner, to enjoy so many goods as would suffice for the preferment and entertainment of many children, and in the mean while, for want of means, to suffer them to lose their best days and years, without thrusting them into public service and knowledge of men; whereby they are often cast into despair, to seek, by some way how unlawful soever to provide for their necessaries. And in my days, I have seen diverse youngmen, of good, houses so given to stealing and filching, that no correction could divert them from it. I know one very well allied, to whom, at the instance of a brother of his (a most honest, gallant, and virtuous Gentleman) I spoke to that purpose, who boldly answered and confessed unto me, that only by the rigour and covetise of his father he had been forced and driven to fall into such lewdness and wickedness. And even at that time he came from stealing certain jewels from a Lady, in whose bedchamber he fortuned to come with certain other Gentlemen when she was rising, and had almost been taken. He made me remember a tale I had heard of an other Gentleman, from his youth so fashioned and inclined to this goodly trade of pilfering, that coming afterward to be heir and Lord of his own goods, resolved to give over that manner of life, could notwithstanding (if he chanced to come near a shop, where he saw any thing he stood in need of) not choose but steal the same, though afterward he would ever send money and pay for it. And I have seen divers so enured to that vice, that amongst their companions, they would ordinarily steal such things, as they would restore again. I am a Gascoine, and there is no vice wherein I have less skill: I hate it somewhat more by complexion, than I accuse it by discourse. I do not so much as desire another man's goods. And although my Countrymen be indeed somewhat more taxed with this fault, than other Provinces of France, yet have we seen of late days, and that sundry times men well borne and of good parentaeg in other parts of France in the hands of justice, and lawfully convicted of many most horrible robberies. I am of opinion that in regard of these debauches and lewd actions, fathers may, in some sort, be blamed, and that it is only long of them. And if any shall answer me, as did once a Gentleman of good worth and understanding, that he thriftily endeavoured to hoard up riches, to no other purpose, nor to have any use and commodity of them, then to be honoured, respected and suingly sought unto by his friends and kinsfolks, and that age having bereft him of all other forces, it was the only remedy he had left to maintain himself in authority with his household, and keep him from falling into contempt and disdain of all the world. (And truly according to Aristotle, not only old-age, but each imbecility, is the promoter, and motive of covetousness. That is something, but it is a remedy for an evil, whereof the birth should have been hindered, and breeding a voided. That father may truly be said miserable, that holdeth the affection of his children tied unto him by no other means, then by the need they have of his help, or want of his assistance, if that may be termed affection: A man should yield himself respectable by virtue and sufficiency, and amiable by his goodness, and gentleness of manners. The very cinders of so rich a matter, have their value: so have the bones and relics of honourable men, whom we hold in respect and reverence. No age can be so crazed and drooping in a man that hath lived honourably, but must needs prove venerable, and especially unto his children, whose minds ought so to be directed by the parents, that reason and wisdom, not necessity and need, nor rudeness and compulsion, may make them know and perform their duty. — & errat longè, mea quidem sententia, Ter. Adel●●. act. 1. see. 1. 39 Qui imperium credat esse gravius aut stabilius, Vi quoth fit, quam illud quod amicitia adiungitur; In mine opinion he doth much mistake, Who, that command more grave, more firm doth take, Which force doth get, then that which friendships make. I utterly condemn all manner of violence in the education of a young spirit, brought up to honour and liberty. There is a kind of slavishness in churlish-rigor, and servility in compulsion; and I hold, that that which can not be compaessed by reason, wisdom and discretion, can never be attained by ●orce and constraint. So was I brought up: they tell me, that in all my youth, I never felt rod but twice, and that very lightly. And what education I have had myself, the same have I given my children. But such is my ill hap, that they die all very young: yet hath Leonora my only daughter escaped this misfortune, and attained to the age of six years, and somewhat more: for the conduct of whose youth, and punishment of her childisn faults (the indulgence of her mother applying itself very mildly unto it) was never other means used but gentle words. And were my desire frustrate, there are divers other causes to take hold-of, without reproving my discipline, which I know to be just and natural. I would also have been much more religious in that towards male-childrens, not borne to serve as women, and of a freer condition. I should have loved to have stored their mind with ingenuity and liberty. I have seen no other effects in rods, but to make children's minds more remiss, or more maliciously headstrong. Desire we to be loved of our children? Will we remove all occasions from them to wish our death? (although no occasion of so horrible and unnatural wishes, can either be just or excusable) nullum scelus rationem habet, no ill deed hath a good reason. Let us reasonably accommodate their life, with such things as are in our power. And therefore should not we marry so young, that our age do in a manner confound itself with theirs. For, this inconvenience doth avoidable cast us into many difficulties, and encumbrances. This I speak, chiefly unto Nobility, which is of an idle disposition, or loitering condition, and which (as we say) liveth only by her lands or rents: for else, where life standeth upon gain; plurality and company of children is an easeful furtherance of husbandry. They are as many new implements to thrive, and instruments to grow rich. I was married at thirty years of age, and commend the opinion of thirtyfive, which is said to be Aristotle's. Plato would have no man married before thirty, and hath good reason to scoff at them that will defer it till after fifty-five, and then marry; and condemneth their breed as unworthy of life and sustenance. Thales appointed the best limits, who by his mother, being instantly urged to marry whilst he was young, answered that it was not yet time; and when he came to be old he said it was no more time. A man must refuse opportunity to every importunate action. The ancient Gauls deemed it a thamefull reproach, to have the acquaintance of a woman before the age of twenty years, and did especially recommend unto men that sought to be trained up in wars, the careful preservation of their maidenhead, until they were of good years, forsomuch as by losing it in youth, courages are thereby much weakened and greatly impaired, and by copulation with women, diverted from all virtuous action. Mahor cogiunto à gi● vinetta sposa, Lieto hemat de'figl● era invilito Ne gli affetti di padre & di marito. But now conjoined to a fresh-springing spouse, Joyed in his children, he was thought▪ abased, In passions twixt a Sire, and husband placed. Muleasses King of Thunes, he whom the Emperor Charles the fifth restored unto his own state again, was wont to upbraid his father's memory, for so dissolutely-frequenting of women, terming him a sloven, effeminate, and a lustful engenderer of children. The Greek story doth note jecus the Tarentine, Chryso, Astylus, Diopomus and others, who to keep their bodies tough and strong for the service of the Olympic courses, wrestle and such bodily exercises, they did, as long as they were possessed with that care, heedfully abstain from all venerean acts, and thouch of women. In a certain country of the Spanish Indies, no man was suffered to take a wife, before he were forty years old, and women might marry at ten years of age. There is no reason, neither is it convenient, that a Gentleman of five and thirty years, should give place to his son, that is but twenty: For then is the father as seemly, and may aswell appear, and set himself forward, in all manner of voyages of wars, aswell by land as sea, and do his Prince as good service, in court, or else where, as his son: He hath need of all his parts, and ought truly to impart them, but so, that he forget not himself for others: And to such may justly that answer serve, which fathers have commonly in their mouths: I will not put off my clothes before I be ready to go to bed. But a father over-burthend with years, and crazed through sickness, and by reason of weakness and want of health, barred from the common society of men, doth both wrong himself, injure his, idly and to no use to hoard up, and keep close a great heap of riches, and deal of pelf. He is in state good enough, if he be wise to have a desire to put off his clothes to go to bed. I will not say to his spirit, but to a good warm night gown, As for other pomp and trash whereof he hath no longer use or need; he ought willingly to distribute and bestow them amongst those, to whom by natural decree they ought to belong. It is reason he should have the use, and bequeath the fruition of them, since nature doth also deprive him of them, otherwise without doubt there is both envy and malice stirring. The worthiest action, that ever the Emperor Charles the fifth performed was this, in imitation of some ancients of his quality, that he had the discretion to know, that reason commanded us, to strip or shift ourselves when our clothes trouble and are too heavy for us, and that it is high time to go to bed, when our legs fail us. He resigned his means, his greatness and Kingdom to his Son, at what time he found his former undaunted resolution to decay, and force to conduct his aslaires, to droop in himself, together with the glory he had thereby acquired. Solve senescentem mature se●●s equum, ne Mor. 1. ●ep. 1. 8. Peccet ad extremum ridendus, & ilia ducat, If you be wise, the horse grown▪ old be times cast off, Lest he at last fall lame, soulter, and breed a scoff. This fault, for a man not to be able to know himself betimes, and not to feel the impuissance and extreme alteration, that age doth naturally bring, both to the body and the mind (which in mine opinion is equal, if the mind have but one half) hath lost the reputation of the most part of the greatest men in the world. I have in my days both seen and familiarly known some men of great authority, whom a man might easily discern, to be strangely fallen from that ancient sufficiency, which I know by the reputation they had thereby attained▪ unto in their best years. I could willingly for their honours sake have wished them at home about their own business, discharged from all negotiations of the commonwealth and employments of war, that were no longer fit for them. I have sometimes been familiar in a Gentleman's house, who was both an old man and a widower, yet lusty of his age. This man had many daughters marriageable, and a son grown to man's state, and ready to appear in the world, a thing that drew▪ on, and was the cause of great charges, and many visitations, wherein he took but little pleasure, not only for the continual care he had to save, but more by reason of his age, he had betaken himself to a manner of life far different from ours. I chanced one day to tell him somewhat boldly (as my custom is) that it would better beseem him to give us place, and resign his chief house to his son (for he had no other manor-house conveniently well furnished) and quietly retire himself to some farm of his, where no man might trouble him, or disturb his rest, since he could not otherwise avoid our importunity, seeing the condition of his children; who afterward followed my counsel, and found great ease by it. It is not to be said, that they have any thing given them by such a way of obligation, which a man may not recall again: I, that am ready to play such a part, would give over unto them the full possession of my house, and enjoying of my goods, but with such liberty and limited condition, as if they should give me occasion, I might repent myself of my gift, and revoke my deed. I would leave the use and fruition of all unto them, the rather because it were no longer fit for me to weald the same. And touching the disposing of all matters in gross, I would reserve what I pleased unto myself. Having ever judged, that it must be a great contentment to an aged father, himself to direct his children in the government of his houshold-affaires, and to be able whilst himself liveth, to check and control the demeanours: storing them with instruction and advised counsel according to the experience he hath had of them, and himself to address the ancient honour and order of his house in the hands of his successors, and that way warrant himself of the hopes he may conceive of their future conduct and after success. And to this effect, I would not shun their company. I would not be far from them, but as much as the condition of my age would permit, enjoy and be a partner of their sports, mirths, and feasts. If I did not continually live amongst them (as I could not well without offending their meetings and hindering their recreation, by reason of the peevish frowardness of my age, and the trouble of my infirmities, and also without forcing their rules, and resisting the form of life, I should then follow) I would at least live near them, in some corner of my house, not the best and fairest in show, but the most easeful and commodious. And not as some years since, I saw a Dean of S. Hilary of Poitiers, reduced by reason and the incommodity of his melancholy to such a continual solitariness, that when I entered into his chamber he had never removed one step out of it in two and twenty years before: yet had all his faculties free and easy, only a rheum excepted that fell into his stomach. Scarce once a week would he suffer any body to come and see him. He would ever be shut up in his chamber all alone, where no man should come, except a boy, who once a day brought him meat, and who might not tarry there, but as soon as he was in, must go out again. All his exercise was sometimes to walk up and down his chamber, and now and then read on some book (for he had some understanding of letters) but obstinately resolved to live and die in that course, as he did shortly after. I would endeavour by a kind of civil demeanour and mild conversation, to breed and settle in my children a trueharty-loving friendship, and unfeigned good will towards me. A thing easily obtained amongst well-born minds: For, if they prove, or be such surly-furious beasts, or given to churlish disobedience, as our age bringeth forth thousands, they must as beasts be hated, as churls neglected, and as degenerate avoided. I hate this custom, to forbid children to call their father's father, and to teach them another strange name, as of more reverence: As if nature had not sufficiently provided for our authority. We call God-almightie by the name of father, and disdain our children should call us so. I have reform this fault in mine own household. It is also folly and injustice to deprive children, especially being of competent age, of their father's familiarity, and ever to snew them a surly, austere, grim, and disdainful countenance, hoping thereby to keep them in awful fear and duteous obedience. For, it is a very unprofitable proceeding, and which maketh father's irksome unto children; and which is worse, ridiculous. They have youth and strength in their hands, and consequently, the breath and favour of the world; and do with mockery and contempt receive these churlish fierce, and tyrannical countenances, from a man that hath no lusty blood left him, neither in his heart, nor in his veins; mere bugbears, and scarecrows, to scare birds with all. If it lay in my power to make myself feared, I had rather make myself beloved. There are so many sorts of defects in age, and so much impuissance: It is so subject to contempt, that the best purchase it can make, is the good will, love and affection of hers. Commandment and fear are no longer her weapons. I have known one whose youth had been very imperious and rough, but when he came to man's age, although he live in as good plight and health as may be, yet he chaseth, he scoldeth, he brawleth, he fighteth, he sweareth, and biteth, as the most boisterous and tempestuous master of France, he frets and consumes himself with calke and care and vigilancy (all which is but a juglin & ground for his familiar to play upon, and cozen him the more) as for his goods, his garners, his cellars, his coffers, yea his purse, whilst himself keeps the keys of them, close in his bosom and under his bolster, as charily as he doth his e●es, other enjoy and command the better part of them; whilst he pleaseth and flattereth himself, with the ●●ggardly sparing of his table, all goeth to wrack, and is lavishly wasted in divers corners of his house, in play, in riotous spending, and in soothingly entertaining the accounts or tales of his vain chafing, foresight and providing. Every man watcheth and keepeth sentinel against him, if any silly or needless servant do by fortune apply himself unto it, he is presently made to suspect him: A quality on which age doth immediately bite of itself. How many times hath he vaunted and applauding himself told me of the strict orders of his house, of his good husbandry, of the awe he kept his household in, and of the exact obedience, and regardful reverence he received of all his family, and how clear-sighted he was in his own business: Ille solus nescit omnia. Ter. Adel. áct. 4. scen. 2. 9 Of all things none but he, Most ignorant must be. I know no man that could produce more parts, both natural and artificial, fit to preserve his mastery, and to maintain his absoluteness, than he doth; yet is he clean fallen from them like a child. Therefore have I made choice of him, amongst many such conditions that I know, as most exemplare. It were a matter beseeming a scholastical question, whether it be better so, or otherwise. In his presence all things give place unto him. This vain course is ever left unto his authority, that he is never gainsaid. He is had in awe, he is feared, he is believed, he is respected his bellyful. Doth he discharge any boy or servant? he presently trusseth up his pack, then is he gone; but whether? only out of his sight, not out of his house. The steps of age are follow, the senses so troubled, the mind so distracted, that he shall live and do his office, a whole year in one same house, and never be perceived. And when fit time or occasion serveth, Letters are produced from far places, humbly suing, and pitifully complaining, with promises to do better, and to amend, by which he is brought into favour and office again. Doth the master make any bargain, or dispatch that pleaseth not? it is immediately smothered and suppressed, soon after forging causes, and devising colourable excuses, to excuse the want of execution or answer. No foreign Letters being first presented unto him, he seeth but such as are fit for his knowledge. If peradventure they come unto his hands, as he that trusteth some one of his men to read them unto him, he will presently devise what he thinketh good, whereby they often invent, that such a one seemeth to ask him forgiveness, that wrongeth him by his Letter. To conclude, he never looks into his own business, but by a disposed, designed and as much as may be pleasing image, so contrived by such as are about him, because they will not stir up his choler, move his impatience, and exasperate his frowardness. I have seen under different forms, many long and constant, and of like effect economies. It is ever proper unto women, to be readily bend to contradict and cross their husbands. They will with might and main handover head, take hold of any colour to thwart and withstand them: the first excuse they meet with, serves them as a plenary justification. I have seen some, that would in gross steal from their husbands, to the end (as they told their Confessors) they might give the greater alms. Trust you to such religious dispensations. They think no liberty to have, or managing to possess sufficient authority, if it come from their husband's consent: They must necessarily usurp it, either by wily craft or main force, and ever injuriously, thereby to give it more grace and authority. As in my Discourse, when it is against a poor old man, and for children, then take they hold of this Title, and therewith gloriously serve their turn and passion, and as in a common servitude, easily usurp and monopolise against his government and domination. If they be man-children, tall, of good spirit and forward, than they presently suborn, either by threats, force or favour, both Steward, Bailiff, Clerk, Receiver, and all the Father's Officers, and Servants. Such as have neither wife nor children, do more hardly fall into this mischief: but yet more cruelly and unworthily. Old Cato was wont to say, So many servants, so many enemies. Note whether according to the distance, that was between the purity of his age, and the corruption of our times, he did not forewarn us, that Wives, Children, and Servants are to us so many enemies. Well fits it decrepitude to store us with the sweet benefit of ignorance and unperceiving facility wherewith we are deceived. If we did yield unto it, what would become of us? Do we not see that even then, if we have any suits in law or matters to be decided before judges, both Lawyers and judges, will commonly take part with, and favour our children's causes against us, as men interessed in the same? And if I chance not to spy, or plainly perceive how I am cheated, cozoned and beguiled. I must of necessity discover in the end, how I am subject and may be cheated, beguiled, and cozoned. And shall the tongue of man ever be able to express the unvaluable worth of a friend, in comparison of these civil bonds? The lively image and Idea whereof; I perceive to be amongst beasts so unspotted. Oh with what religion do I respect and observe the same! If others deceive me, yet do I not deceive myself, to esteem myself capable, and of power to look unto myself, nor to trouble my brains to yield myself unto it. I do beware and keep myself from such treasons, and coney-catching in mine own bosom, not by an unquiet, and tumultuary curiosity, but rather by a diversion and resolution. When I hear the state of any one reported or discoursed of, I ammuse not myself on him, but presently cast mine eyes on myself, and all my wits together, to see in what state I am, and how it goeth with me. Whatsoever concerneth him, the same hath relation to me. His fortunes forewarn me, and summon up my spirits that way. There is no day nor hour, but we speak that of others, we might properly speak of ourselves, could we as well enfold, as we can unfold our consideration. And many Authors do in this manner wound the protection of their cause, by over-rasnly running against that, which they take hold-of, thirling such darts at their enemies, that might with much more advantage be cast at them. The Lord of Monluc, late one of the Lord Marshals of France, having lost his son, who died in the Island of Madera, a worthy, forward and gallant young gentleman, and truly of good hope; amongst other his griefs and regrets, did greatly move me to condole, the infinite displeasure and heartes-sorrow that he felt, in as much as he had never communicated and opened himself unto him: for, with his austere humour and continual endevoring to hold a grimme-sternfatherly gravity over him, he had lost the means, perfectly to find and thoroughly to know his son, and so to manifest unto him, the extreme affection he bore him, and the worthy judgement he made of his virtue. Alas (was he wont to say) the poor lad, saw never any thing in me, but a severe-surly-countenance, full of disdain, and happily was possessed with this conceit, that I could neither love nor esteem him according to his merits. Ay, to whom did I reserve, to discover that singular and loving affection, which in my soul I bore unto him? Was it not he that should have had all the pleasure and acknowledgement thereof? I have forced and tormented myself to maintain this vain mask, and have utterly lost the pleasure of his conversation, and therewithal his good will, which surely was but faintly cold towards me, forsomuch as he never received but rude entertainment of me, and never felt but a tyrannical proceeding in me towards him. I am of opinion, his complaint was reasonable and well grounded. For, as I know by certain experience, there is no comfort so sweet in the loss of friends, as that our own knowledge or conscience tells us, we never omitted to tell them every thing, and expostulate all matters unto them, and to have had a perfect and free communication with them. Tell me my good friend, am I the better or the worse by having a taste of it? Surely I am much the better. His grief doth both comfort and honour me. Is it not a religious and pleasing office of my life, for ever to make the obsequies thereof? Can there be any pleasure worth this privation? I do unfold and open myself as much as I can to mine own people, and willigly declare the state of my will and judgement toward them, as commonly I do towards all men: I make haste to produce and present myself, for I would have no man mistake me, in what part soever. Amongst other particular customs, which our ancient Gauls had, (as Caesar affirmeth) this was one, that children never came before their fathers, nor were in any public assembly seen in their company, but when they began to bear arms; as if they would infer, that then was the time, fathers should admit them to their acquaintance and familiarity. I have also observed another kind of indiscretion in some fathers of our times, who during their own life, would never be induced to acquaint or impart unto their children, that share or portion, which by the Law of Nature, they were to have in their fortunes: Nay, some there are, who after their death bequeath and commit the same authority, over them and their goods, unto their wives, with full power and law to dispose of them at their pleasure. And myself have known a Gentleman, a chief officer of our crown, that by right and hope of succession (had he lived unto it) was to inherit above fifty thousand crowns a year good land, who at the age of more than fifty years fell into such necessity and want, and was run so far in debt, that he had nothing left him, and as it is supposed died for very need; whilst his mother in her extreme decrepitude, enjoyed all his lands and possessed all his goods, by virtue of his father's will and testament, who had lived very near fourscore years. A thing (in my conceit) no way to be commended, but rather blamed. Therefore do I think, that a man but little advantaged or bettered in estate, who is able to live of himself, and is out of debt, especially if he have children, and goeth about to marry a wife, that must have a great jointure out of his lands, assuredly there is no other debt, that brings more ruin unto houses then that. My predecessors have commonly followed this counsel, and so have I, and all have found good by it. But those that dissuade us from marrying of rich wives, lest they might prove over disdainful and peevish, or less tractable and loving, are also deceived to make us neglect and forgo a real commodity, for so frivolous a conjecture. To an unreasonable women, it is all one cost to her, whether they pass under one reason, or under another. They love to be where they are most wronged. Injustice doth allure them; as the honour of their virtuous actions enticeth the good. And by how much richer they are, so much more mild and gentle are they: as more willingly and gloriously chaste, by how much fairer they are. Some colour of reason there is, men should leave the administration of their goods and affairs unto mothers, whilst their children are not of competent age, or fit according to the laws to manage the charge of them: And il hath their father brought them up, if he cannot hope, these coming to years of discretion, they shall have no more wit, reason, and sufficiency, than his wife, considering the weakness of their sex. Yet truly were it as much against nature, so to order things, that mothers must wholly depend of their children's discretion. They ought largely and competently to be provided, wherewith to maintain their estate, according to the quality of their house and age: because need and want is much more unseemly and hard to be endured in women, than in men: And children rather than mothers ought to be charged therewith. In general, my opinion is, that the best distribution of goods, is when we die, to distribute them according to the custom of the Country. The Laws have better thought upon them than we: And better it is to let them err in their election, then for us rashly to hazard to fail in ours. They are not properly our own, since without us, and by a civil prescription, they are appointed to certain successors. And albeit we have some further liberty, I think it should be a great and most apparent cause to induce us to take from one, and bar him from that, which Fortune hath allotted him, and the common Laws and justice hath called him unto: And that against reason we abuse this liberty, by suiting the same unto our private humours and frivolous fantasies. My fortune hath been good, inasmuch as yet it never presented me with any occasions, that might tempt or divert my affections from the common and lawful ordinance. I see some, towards whom it is but labour lost, carefully to endeavour to do any good offices. A word il taken defaceth the merit of ten years. Happy he, that at this last passage is ready to sooth and applaud their will. The next action transporteth him; not the best and most frequent offices, but the freshest and present work the deed. They are people that play with their wills and testaments, as with apples and rods, to gratify or chastise every action of those who pretend any interest thereunto. It is a matter of overlong pursuit, and of exceeding consequence, at every instance to be thus dilated, and wherein the wiser sort establish themselves once for all, chiefly respecting reason, and public observance. We somewhat overmuch take these masculine substitutions to hart, and propose a ridiculous eternity unto our names. We also over-weight such vain future conjectures, which infant-spirits giveus. It might peradventure have been deemed injustice, to displace me from out my rank, because I was the dullest, the slowest, the unwillingest, and most leaden-pated to learn my lesson o any good, that ever was, not only of all my brethren, but of all the children in my Country; were the lesson concerning any exercise of the mind or body. It is folly to try any extraordinary conclusions upon the trust of their divinations, wherein we are so often deceived. If this rule may be contradicted, and the destinies corrected, in the choice they have made of our heirs, with so much more appearance, may it be done in consideration of some remarkable and enormous corporal deformity; a constant and incorrigible vice; and according to us great esteemers of beauty; a matter of important prejudice. The pleasant dialogue of Plato the lawgiver, with his citizens, will much honour this passage. Why then (say they) perceiving their end to approach, shall we not dispose of that which is our own, to whom and according as we please? Oh Gods what cruelty is this? That it shall not be lawful for us, to give or bequeath more or less according to our fantasies, to such as have served us, and taken pains with us in our sicknesses, in our age, and in our business? To whom the Lawgiver answereth in this manner; my friends (saith he) who doubtless shall shortly die it is a hard matter for you, both to know yourselves, and what is yours, according to the Delphike in scription: As for me, who am the maker of your laws, I am of opinion that neither yourselves are your own, nor that which you enjoy. And both you and your goods, past and to come, belong to your family; and moreover both your families and your goods are the common wealths: Wherefore, lest any flatterer, either in your age, or in time of sickness, or any other passion, should unadvisedly induce you to make any unlawful conveyance or unjust will and testament, I will look to you and keep you fromit. But having an especial respect both to the universal interest of your City, and particular state of your houses, I will establish laws, and by reason make you perceive and confess, that a particular commodity ought to yield to a public benefit. Follow that course merely, whereto humane necessity doth call you. To me it belongeth, who have no more regard to one thing, then to another, and who as much as I can, take care for the general, to have a regardful respect of that which you leave behind you. But to return to my former discourse, me thinks, we seldom see that woman borne, to whom the superiority or majesty over men is due, except the motherly and natural; unless it be for the chastisement of such, as by some fond-febricitant humour have voluntarily submitted themselves unto them: But that doth nothing concern old women, of whom we speak here. It is the appearance of this consideration, hath made us to frame, and willingly to establish this law (never seen else where) that barreth women from the succession of this crown, and there are few principalities in the world, where it is not alleged, aswell as here, by a likely and apparent reason, which authoriseth the same. But fortune hath given more credit untoit in some places, then in other some. It is dangerous to leave the dispensation of our succession unto their judgement, according to the choice they shall make of their children, which is most commonly unjust and fantastical. For, the same unruly appetite, and distasted relish, or strange longings, which they have when they are great with child, the same have they a● all times in their minds. They are commonly seen to affect the weakest, the simplest and most abject, or such (if they have any) that had more need to suck. For, wanting reasonable discourse to choose, and embrace what they ought, they rather suffer themselves to be directed, where natures impressions are most single, as other creatures, which take no longer knowledge of their yong-ones, than they are sucking. Moreover, experience doth manifestly snew unto us, that the same natural affection, to which we ascribe so much authority, hath but a weak foundation. For a very small gain, we daily take mothers own children from them and induce them to take charge of ours; Do we not often procure them to bequeath their children to some fond, filthy, sluttish, and unhealthy nurse, to whom we would be very loath to commit ours, or to some brutish Goat, not only forbidding them to nurse and feed their own children (what danger soever may betide them) but also to have any care of them, to the end they may the more diligently follow, and carefully attend the service of ours? Whereby we soon see through custom a certain kind of bastard-affection to be engendered in them, more vehement than the natural, and to be much more tender and careful for the well fare and preservation of other men's children, then for their own. And the reason why I have made mention of Goats, is, because it is an ordinary thing round about me where I dwell, to see the country women, when they have not milk enough to feed their infants with their own breasts, to call for Goats to help them. And myself have now two lack is waiting upon me, who except it were eight days never sucked other milk than Goats; They are presently to come at call, and give young infants suck, and become so well acquainted with their voice, that when they hear them cry; they run forthwith unto them. And if by chance they have any other child put to their teats, than their nurseling, they refuse and reject him, and so doth the child a strange Goat. Myself saw that one not long since, from whom the father took a Goat, which he had sucked two or three days, because he had but borrowed it of one his neighbours, who could never be induced to suck any other, whereby he shortly died; and as I verily think, of mere hunger. Beasts as well as we do soon alter, and easily bastardise their natural affection. I believe, that in that, which Hero dotus reporteth of a certain province of Libya, there often followeth great error and mistaking. He saith, that men do indifferently use, and as it were in common frequent women; And that the child as soon as he is able to go, coming to any solemn meetings and great assemblies, led by a natural instinct findeth out his own father: where being turned loose in the midst of the multitude, look what man the child doth first address his steps unto, and then go to him, the same is ever afterward reputed to be his right father. Now if we shall duly consider this simple occasion of loving our children, because we have begotten them, for which we call them our other selves. It seems there is another production coming from us, and which is of no less recommendation and consequence. For what we engender by the mind, the fruits of our courage, sufficiency, or spirit, are brought forth by a far more noble part, than the corporal, and are more, our own. We are both father and mother together in this generation: such fruits cost us much dearer, and bring us more honour, and chiefly if they have any good or rare thing in them. For, the value of our other children, is much more their, then ours. The share we have in them is but little; but of these all the beauty, all the grace, and all the worth is ours. And therefore do they represent, and resemble us much more lively than others. Plate addeth moreover, that these are immortal issues, and immortalize their fathers, yea and deify them, as Lycurgus, Solen, and Minos. All histories being full of examples of this mutual friendship of fathers toward their children, I have not thought it amiss to set down some choice one of this kind. Heliodorus that good Bishop of Tricea, loved rather to lose the dignity, profit and devotion of so venerable a Prelateship, then to forgo his daughter, a young woman to this day commended for her beauty, but happily somewhat more curiously and wanton pranked-up then beseemed the daughter of a churchman and a Bishop, and of overamorous behaviour. There was one Labienus in Rome, a man of great worth and authority, and an ongst other commendable qualities, most excellent in all manner of learning, who (as I think) was the son of that great Labienus, chief of all the captains that followed and were under Caesar in the wars again the Gauls, and who afterward taking great Pompey's part, behaved himself so valiantly and so constantly, that he never forsook him until Caesar defeated him in Spain. This Labienus of whom I spoke, had many that envied his virtues; But above all (as it is likely) courtiers, and such as in his time were favoured of the Emperors, who hated his frankness, his fatherly humours, and distaste he bore still against tyranny, wherewith it may be supposed he had stuffed his books and compositions. His adversaries vehemently pursued him before the Magistrate of Rome, and prevailed so far, that many of his works which he had published were condemned to be burned. He was the first on whom this new example of punishment was put in practice, which after continued long in Rome, and was executed on diverse others, to punish learning, studies, and writings with death and consuming fire. There were neither means enough, or matter sufficient of cruelty, unless we had intermingled amongst them things, which nature hath exempted from all sense and sufferance, as reputation, and the inventions of our mind: and except we communicated corporal mischiefs unto disciplines and monuments of the Muses. Which loss Labienus could not endure, nor brook to survive those his dear, and highly-esteemed issues: And therefore caused himself to be carried, and shut up alive within his ancestors monument, where, with a dreadless resolution, he at once provided, both to kill himself and be buried together. It is hard to show any more vehement fatherly affection, than that. Cassius Severus, a most eloquent man, and his familiar friend, seeing his Books burnt, exclaimed, that by the same sentence he should therewithal be condemned to be burned alive, for he still bare and kept in mind, what they contained in them. A like accident happened to Geruntius Cord●●s, who was accused to have commended Brutus and Cassius in his Books. That base, servile, and corrupted Senate, and worthy of a far worse master than Tiberius, adjudged his writings to be consumed by fire And he was pleased to accompany them in their death; for, he pined away by abstaining from all manner of meat. That notable man Lucan, being adjudged by that lewd varlet Nero to death; at the latter end of his life, when all his blood was well nigh spent from out the veins of his arm, which by his Physician he had caused to be opened, to hasten his death, and that a chilling cold began to seize the uttermost parts of his limbs, and approach his vitale spirits, the last thing he had in memory, was some of his own verses, written in his book of the Pharsalian wars, which with a distinct voice he repeated, and so yielded up the ghost, having those last words in his mouth. What was that but a kind, tender, and fatherly farewell which he took of his children? representing the last adewes, and parting embracements, which at our death we give unto our dearest issues? And an effect of that natural inclination, which in that last extremity puts us in mind of those things, which in our lifetime we have held dearest and most precious? Shall we imagine that Ep●curus, who (as himself said) dying tormented with the extreme pain of the colic, had all his comfort in the beauty of the doctrine, which he left behind him in the world, would have received as much contentment of a number of well-born, and better-bred children (if he had had any) as he did of the production of his rich compositions? And if it had been in his choice, to leave behind him, either a counterfeit, deformed, or ill-borne child, or a foolish, trivial, and idle book, not only he, but all men in the world beside of like learning and sufficiency, would much rather have chosen, to incur the former than the latter mischief. It might peradventure be deemed impiety, in Saint Augustine (for example-sake) if on the one part one should propose unto him, to bury all his books, whence our religion receiveth so much good, or to inter his children (if in case he had any) that he would not rather choose to bury his children; or the issue of his loins, than the fruits of of his mind. And I wot not well, whether myself should not much rather desire to beget and produce a perfectly-well-shaped, and excellently-qualited infant, by the acquaintance of the Muses, then by the copulation of my wife. Whatsoever I give to this, let the world allow of it as it please, I give it as purely and irrevocable, as any man can give to his corporal children. That little good which I have done him, is no longer in my disposition. He may know many things, that myself know no longer, and hold of me what I could not hold myself: and which (if need should require) I must borrow of him as of a stranger. If I be wiser than he, he is richer than I There are few men given unto Poesy, that would not esteem it for a greater honour, to be the fathers of Virgil's Aeneidos, then of the goodliest boy in Rome, and that would not rather endure the loss of the one than the perishing of the other. For, according to Aristotle, Of all workmen, the Poet is principally the most amorous of his productions and conceited of his Labours. It is not easy to be believed, that Epaminondas, who vaunted to leave some daughters behind him, which unto all posterity, should one day highly honour their father (they were the two famous victories, which he had gained of the Lacedæmonians) would ever have given his free consent, to change them, with the best-borne, most gorgeous, and goodliest damsels of all Greece: or that Alexander, and Caesar, did ever wish to be deprived of the greatness of their glorious deeds of war, for the commodity to have children and heirs of their own bodies, how absolutely-perfect, and well accomplished so ever they might be. Nay, I make a great question, whether Phidtas or any other excellent statuary, would as highly esteem, and dearly love the preservation, and successful continuance of his natural children, as he would an exquisite and match-lesse-wrought Image, that with long study, and diligent care he had perfected according unto art. And as concerning those vicious and furious passions, which sometimes have inflamed some fathers to the love of their daughters, or mothers towards their sons; the very same, and more partially-earnest is also found in this other kind of childbearing and alliance. Witness that which is reported of Pygmalion, who having curiously framed a goodly statue, of a most singularly-beauteous woman, was so strange-fondly, and passionately surprised with the lustful love of his own workmanship, that the Gods through his raging importunity were feign in favour of him to give it life. Tentatum mollescit ebur, positoque rigore Orid. Metá●. lib. 10. 283. Subsidit digitis▪ As he assayed it, th'ivory softened much, And (hardness left) did yield to fingers touch. The ninth Chapter. Of the Parthians Arms. IT is a vicious fond fashion of the Nobility and gentry of our age, and full of nice-tendernesse, never to betake themselves to arms, except upon some urgent and extreme necessity: and to quit them as soon as they perceive the least hope or appearance, that the danger is past: Whence ensue many disorders, and inconveniences: For, every one running and calling for his arms when the alarm is given, some have not yet buckled their cuirace, when their fellows are already defeated. Indeed our forefathers would have their Cask, Lance, Gauntlets, and Shields carried, but so long as the service lasted, themselves would never leave-off their other pieces. Our troops are now all confounded and disordered, by reason of bag and baggage, of carriages, of lackeys, and foote-boys, which because of their master's arms they carry, can never leave them. Titus Livius; speaking of the French, saith, Intolerantissima laboris corpora vix arma humer is gerebant. Their bodies most impatient of labour Liv. d●●. 1. l. 10 could hardly bear armour on their backs. Divers Nations, as they did in former times, so yet at this day, are seen to go to the wars, without any thing about them, or if they had, it was of no defence; but were all naked and bare. Tegmina queis capitum raptus de subere cortex. Virg. Aen. lib. 742. Whose cask to cover all their head. Was made of bark from Corke-tree flayed. Alexander the most daring and hazardous Captain that ever was, did very seldom arm himself: And those which amongst us neglect them, do not thereby much impair their reputation. If any man chance to be slain for want of an armour, there are as many more that miscarry with the over-heavy burden of their arms, and by them are engaged, and by a counterbuff are bruised, or otherwise defeated. For in truth to see the unwieldy weight of our and their thickness, it seemeth we but endeavour to defend ourselves, and we are rather charged then covered by them. We have enough to do, to endure the burden of them, and are so engived and shackled in them, as if we were to fight but with the shock or brunt of our arms: And as if we were as much bound to defend them, as they to shield us. Cornelius Facitus doth pleasantly quip and jest at the men of war of our ancient Gauls, so armed, only to maintain themselves, as they that have no mean, either to offend or to be offended, or to raise themselves being overthrown. Lucullus seeing certain Median men at arms, which were in the front of Tigranes' Army, heavily and unweildely armed, as in an yron-prison, apprehended thereby an opinion, that he might easily defeat them, and began to charge them first, and got the victory. And now that our muskeeteers, are in such credit, I think we shall have some invention found to immure us up, that so we may be warranted from them, and to train us to the wars in Sconces and Bastions, as those which our fathers caused to be carried by Elephants. A humour far different from that of Scipio the younger, who sharply reproved his soldiers, because they had scattered certain calthrop's under the water alongst a dike, by which those of the Town that he besieged might sally out upon him, saying; that those which assailed, should resolve to enterprise and not to fear: And had some reason to fear, that this provision might secure and lull their vigilancy asleep to guard themselves. Moreover he said to a young man, that showed him a fair shield he had; Indeed good youth, it is a fair one, but a Roman soldier ought to have more confidence in his right hand, than in his left. It is only custom that makes the burden of our arms intolerable unto us. L'usberg● in dosso haveano, & l'elmo intesta, Due di quells guerrier de i quali io canto. Ne not o di depo ch'entrar● inquesta Ariest● Orl, ●an. 12. stan. 30 Stanza, gl' havean m●● messi da cant●; Che facile â portar come la vesta Eralor, perch in uso l'havean tanto. Cuirasse on back did those two warriors bear, And cask on head, of whom I make report, Nor day, nor night, after they entered there, Had they them laid aside from their support: They could with ease them as a garment wear, For long time had they used them in such sort. The Emperor Caracalla in leading of his Army was ever wont to march a foot armed at all assays. The Roman footmen carried not their morions, sword and target only, as for other arms (saith Cicero) they were so accustomed to wear them continually, that they hindered them no more than their limbs: Arma enim, membra militis esse dicunt: for they say armour and weapon, are a soldiers limbs. But there withal such victuals as they should need for a fortnight and a certain number of stakes, to make their rampards or palisadoes with; so much as weighed threescore pound weight. And Marius his soldiers thus laden, marching in battle-array, were taught to march five leagues in five hours, yea six if need required. Their military discipline was much more laboursome than ours: So did it produce far different effects. Scipto the younger, reforming his army in Spain, appointed his soldiers to eat no meat but standing, and nothing sodden or roasted. It is worth the remembrance how a Lacedaemonian soldier being in an expedition of war, was much noted and blamed, because he was once seen to seek for shelter under a house: They were so hardened to endure all manner of labour and toil, that it was counted a reprechfull infamy for a soldier to be seen under any other roof then that of heavens-vault, in what weather soever: Were we to do so, we should never lead our men far. Marcellinus a man well trained in the Roman wars, doth curiously observe the manner which the Parthians used to arm themselves, and noteth it so much the more, by how much it was far different from the Romans. They had (saith he) certain arms so curiously enter-wrought as they seemed to be made like feathers, which nothing hindered the stirring of their bodies, and yet so strong, that our darts hitting them, did rather rebound, or glance by, then hurt them (they be the scales our ancestors were so much wont to use.) In another place, they had (saith he) their horses stiff and strong, covered with thick hides, and themselves armed from head to foot, with massy iron plates so artificially contrived, that where the joints are, there they furthered the motion, and helped the stirring. A man would have said, they had been men made of iron: For they had pieces so handsomely fitted and so lively representing the form and parts of the face; that there was no way to wound them, but at certain little holes before their eyes, which served to give them some light, and by certain chinks about their nostrils, by which they hardly drew breath Flexilis inductis hamatur lamina membris, Glaud. in Ruff. l. 2. 358. Horribilis visu, credas simulacr a moveri Ferrea, cognatoque viros spirare metallo. Par Vestitus equis, ferrata fronte minantur, Ferratósque mevent securs vulneris armos. The bending plate is hooked on limbs o'erspread, Fearful to sight, steel images seemed led, And men to breath in metal with them bred. Like furniture for horse, with steeled head, They threat, and safe from wound, With barred limbs tread the ground, Loc-heere a description, much resembling the equipage of a complete French-manat arms, with all his bards. Plutarch reporteth that Demetrius caused two Armours to be made, each one weighing six score pounds, the one for himself, the other for Alcinus, the chief man of war, that was next to him, whereas all common Armours weighed but threescore. The tenth Chapter. Of Books. I Make no doubt but it shall often be fall me to speak of things, which are better, and with more truth handled by such as are their crafts-masters. Here is simply an Essay of my natural faculties, and no whit of those I have acquired. And he that shall tax me with ignorance, shall have no great victory at my hands; for hardly could I give others reason for my discourses, that give none unto myself, and am not well satisfied with them. He that shall make search after knowledge, let him seek it where it is: there is nothing I profess less. These are but my fantasies, by which I endeavour not to make things known, but myself. They may haply one day be known unto me, or have been at other times, according as fortune hath brought me where they were declared or manifested. But I remember them no more. And if I be a man of some reading, yet I am a man of no remembering, I conceive no certainty, except it be to give notice, how far the knowledge I have of it, doth now reach. Let no man busy himself about the matters, but on the fashion I give them. Let that which I borrow be survaid, and then tell me whether I have made good choice of ornaments, to beautify and set forth the invention, which ever comes from me. For, I make others to relate (not after mine own fantasy, but as it best falleth out) what I can not so well express, either through unskill of language, or want of judgement. I number not my borrow, but I weigh them. And if I would have made their number to prevail, I would have had twice as many. They are all, or almost all of so famous and ancient names, that me thinks they sufficiently name themselves without me. If in reasons, comparisons and arguments, I transplant any into my soil, or confound them with mine own, I purposely conceal the Author, thereby to bridle the rashness of these hasty censures, that are so headlong cast upon all manner of compositions, namely young writings, of men yet living; and in vulgar, that admit all the world to talk of them, and which seemeth to convince the conception and public design alike. I will have them to give Plutarch a bob upon mine own lips, and vex themselves, in wronging Seneca in me. My weakness must be hidden under such great credits. I will love him that shall trace, or unfeather me; I mean through clearness of judgement, and by the only distinction of the force and beauty of my Discourses. For myself, who for want of memory, am ever to seek, how to try and refine them, by the knowledge of their country, know perfectly, by measuring mine own strength, that my soil is no way capable, of some over-pretious flowers, that therein I find set, and that all the fruits of my increase could not make it amends. This am I bound to answer-for, if I hinder myself, if there be either vanity, or fault in my Discourses, that I perceive not or am not able to discern, if they be showed me. For, many faults do often escape our eyes; but the infirmity of judgement consisteth in not being able to perceive them, when another discovereth them unto us. Knowledge and truth may be in us without judgement, and we may have judgement without them: Yea, the acknowledgement of ignorance, is one of the best and surest testimonies of judgement that I can find. I have no other Sergeant of band to marshal my rhapsodies, than fortune. And look how my humours or conceits present them-selves, so I shuffle them up. Sometimes they press out thick and thee-folde, and other times they come out languishing one by one. I will have my natural and ordinary pace seen as lose, and as shuffling as it is. As I am, so I go on plodding. And beside, these are matters, that a man may not be ignorant of, and rashly and casually to speak of them. I would wish to have a more perfect understanding of things, but I will not purchase it so dear, as it cost. My intention is to pass the remainder of my life quietly, and not laboriously, in rest, and not in care. There is nothing I will trouble or vex myself about, no not for Science itself, what esteem soever it beof. I do not search and toss over Books, but for an honester recreation to please, and pastime to delight myself: or if I study, I only endeavour to find out the knowledge that teacheth or handleth the knowledge of myself, and which may instruct me how to die well, and how to live well. Has meus ad metas sudet oportet equus. ●●opert. l. 4. ●l. 1. 70. My horse must sweeting run, That this goal may be won. If in reading I fortune to meet with any difficult points, I fret not myself about them, but after I have given them a charge or two, I leave them as I found them. Should I earnestly plod upon them I should lose both time and myself; for I have a skipping wit. What I see not at the first view, I shall less see it, if I opinionate myself upon it. I do nothing without blitheness▪ and an over obstinate continuation and plodding contention, doth dazzle, dull and weary the same: My sight is thereby confounded and diminished. I must therefore withdraw-it, and at fits go to it again. Even as to judge well of the lustre of scarlet we are taught to cast our eyes over it, in running it over by diverse glances, sudden glimpses, and reiterated reprisings. If one book seem tedious unto me, I take another, which I follow not with any earnestness, except it be at such hours as I am idle, or that I am weary with doing nothing. I am not greatly affected to new books, because ancient Authors are in my judgement more full and pithy: nor am I much addicted to Greek books, forasmuch as my understanding can well rid his work with a childish and apprentice intelligence. Amongst modern books merely pleasant. I esteem Bocace his Decameron, Rabelais, and the kisses of john the second (if they may be placed under this title) worth the pains-taking to read them. As for Amadis and such like trash of writings, they had never the credit so much as to allure my youth to delight in them. This I will say more, either boldly or rashly, that this old and heavie-pased mind of mine, will no more be pleased with Aristotle, or tickled with good Ovid: his facility, and acquaint inventions, which heretofore have so ravished me, they can now adays scarcely entertain me. I speak my mind freely of all things, yea of such as peradventure exceed my sufficiency, and that no-way I hold to be of my jurisdiction. What my conceit is of them, is also to manifest the proportion of my insight, and not the measure of things. If at any time I find myself distasted of Plato's Axiochus, as of a forceles work, due regard had to such an Author, my judgement doth nothing believe itself: It is not so fond-hardy, or self-conceited, as it durst dare to oppose itself against the authority of so many other famous ancient judgements, which he reputeth his regents and masters, and with whom he had rather err. He chafeth with, and condemneth himself, either to rely on the superficial sense, being unable to pierce into the centre, or to view the thing by some false lustre. He is pleased only to warrant himself from trouble and unruliness: As for weakness he acknowledgeth and ingeniously avoweth the same. He thinks to give a just interpetation to the appearances which his conception presents unto him, but they are shallow and imperfect. Most of Aesopes fables have diverse senses, and several interpretations: Those which Mythologize them, choose some kind of colour well-suting with the fable; but for the most part, it is no other than the first and superficial gloss: There are others more quick, more sinnowie, more essential and more internal, into which they could never penetrate; and thus think I with them. But to follow my course; I have ever deemed that in Poesy, Virgil, Lucretius, Catullus, and Horace, do doubtless by far hold the first rank: and especially Virgil in his Georgiks, which I esteem to be the most accomplished piece of work of Poesy: In comparison of which one may easily discern, that there are some passages in the Aeneidos, to which the Author (had he lived) would no doubt have given some review or correction: The fifth book whereof is (in my mind) the most absolutely perfect. I also love Lucan, and willingly read him, not so much for his style, as for his own worth, and truth of his opinion and judgement. As for good Terence, I allow the quaintness and grace of his Latin tongue, and judge him wonderful conceited and apt, lively to represent the motions and pashions of the mind, and the condition of our manners: our actions make me often remember him. I can never read him so often, but still I discover some new grace and beauty in him. Those that lived about Virgil's time, complained that some would compare Lucretius unto him. I am of opinion, that verily it is an unequal comparison; yet can I hardly assure myself in this opinion whensoever I find myself entangled in some notable passage of Lucretius. If they were moved at this comparison, what would they say now of the fond, hardy and barbarous stupidity of those which now adays compare Ariosto unto him? Nay what would Artosto say of it himself? O seclum insipiens & infac●tum Catul. epig. 40. 8. O age that hath no wit, And small conceit in it. I think our ancestors had also more reason to cry out against those that blushed not to equal Plautus unto Terence (who makes more show to be a Gentleman) than Lucretius unto Virgil. This one thing doth greatly advantage the estimation and preferring of Terence, that the father of the Roman eloquence, of men of his quality doth so often make mention of him; and the censure, which the chief judge of the Roman Poets giveth of his companion. It hath often come unto my mind, how such as in our days give themselves to composing of comedes (as the Italians who are very happy in them) employ three or four arguments of Terence and Plautus to make up one of theirs. In one only comedy they will huddle up five or six of Bocaces tales. That which makes them so to charge themselves with matter, is the distrust they have of their own sufficiency, and that they are not able to undergo so heavy a burden with their own strength. They are forced to find a body on which they may rely and lean themselves: and wanting matter of their own wherewith to please us, they will have the story or tale to busy and ammuse us: where as in my Authors it is clean contrary: The elegancies, the perfections and ornaments of his manner of speech, make us neglect and lose the longing for his subject. His quaintness and grace do still retain us to him. He is every where pleasantly conceited, Liquidus puroque simillimus amni, Hor. li 2. epist. 2. 120. So clearely-neate, so neately-cleare, As he a fine-pure River were. and doth so replenish our mind with his graces, that we forget those of the fable. The same consideration draws me somewhat further. I perceive that good and ancient Poets have shunned the affectation and inquest, not only of fantastical, new fangled, Spagniolized, and petrarchistical elevations, but also of more sweet and sparing inventions, which are the ornament of all the Poetical works of succeeding ages. Yet is there no competent judge, that findeth them wanting in those ancient ones, and that doth not much more admire that smoothly equal neatness, continued sweetness, and flourishing comeliness of Catullus his Epigrams, than all the sharp quips, and witty girds, wherewith martial doth whet and embellish the conclusions of his. It is the same reason I spoke of erewhile, as Martial of himself. Minus illi ingenio laborandum fuit, in cuius locum materia successerat. He needed the Mart. praef l. 8. less work with his wit, in place whereof matter came in supply; The former without being moved or pricked cause themselves to be heard loud enough: they have matter to laugh at every where, and need not tickle themselves; where as these must have foreign help: according as they have less spirit, they must have more body. They leap on horseback: because they are not sufficiently strong in their legs to march on foot. Even as in our dances, those base conditioned men that keep dancing-schools, because they are unfit to represent the port and decency of our nobility, endeavour to get commendation by dangerous lofty tricks, and other strange tumbler-like frisks and motions. And some Ladies make a better show of their countenances in those dances, wherein are diverse changes, cuttings, turnings, and agitations of the body, then in some dances of state and gravity, where they need but simply to tread a natural measure, represent an unaffected carriage, and their ordinary grace; And as I have also seen some excellent Lourdans, or Clowns attired in their ordinary workday clothes, and with a common homely countenance, afford us all the pleasure that may be had from their art: Prentices and learners that are not of so high a form, to besmear their faces, to disguise themselves, and in motions to counterfeit strange visages, and antics, to induce us to laughter. This my conception is no where better discerned, then in the comparison between Virgil's Aeneidos, and Orlando Furios●. The first is seen to soar aloft with full-spread wings, and with so high and strong a pitch, ever following his point; the other faintly to hover and flutter from tale to tale, and as it were skipping from bough to bough, always distrusting his own wings, except it be for some short flight, and for fear his strength and breath should fail him, to sit down at every fields-end. Excursúsque breves tent at Virg. Aen. lib. 4. 194. Out-lopes sometimes he doth assay, But very short, and as he may. Loe-here then, concerning this kind of subjects, what Authors please me best: As for my other lesson, which somewhat more mixeth profit with pleasure, whereby I learn to range my opinions, and address my conditions; the Books that serve me thereunto, are Plutarch (since he spoke French,) and Seneca; Both have this excellent commodity for my humour, that the knowledge I seek in them, is there so scatteringly and loosely handled, that whosoever readeth them is not tied to plod long upon them, whereof I am uncapable. And so are Plutarkes little works, and Senecaes' Epistles; which are the best and most profitable parts of their writings. It is no great matter to draw me to them, and I leave them where I list. For, they succeed not, and depend not one of another. Both jump and suit together, in most true and profitable opinions: And fortune brought them both into the world in one age. Both were Tutors unto two Roman Emperors: Both were strangers, and came from far Countries; both rich and mighty in the commonwealth, and in credit with their masters. Their instruction is the prime and cream of Philosophy, and presented with a plain, unaffected, and pertinent fashion. Plutarch is more uniform and constant; Seneca more waving and divers. This doth labour, force, and extend himself, to arm and strengthen virtue against weakness, fear, and vicious desires; the other seemeth nothing so much to fear their force or attempt, and in a manner scorneth to hasten or change his pace about them, and to put himself upon his guard. Plutarkes' opinions are Platonical, gentle and accommodable unto civil society: Senacaes' Stoical and Epicurian, further from common use, but in my conceit, more proper particular, and more solid. It appeareth in Seneca, that he somewhat inclineth and yieldeth to the tyranny of the Emperors which were in his days; for, I verily believe, it is with a forced judgement, he condemneth the cause of those noblie-minded murderers of Caesar: Plutarch is every where free and open-hearted; Seneca, full-fraught with points and sallies, Plutarch stuffed with matters. The former doth move and inflame you more; the latter, content, please, and pay you better: This doth guide you, the other drive you on. As for Cicero, of all his works, those that treat of Philosophy (namely moral) are they which best serve my turn, and square with my intent. But boldly to confess the truth, (For, Since the bars of impudency were broken down, all curbing is taken away) his manner of writing seemeth very tedious unto me, as doth all suchlike stuff. For, his prefaces, definitions, divisions, and Etymologies, consume the greatest part of his Works; whatsoever quick, witty, and pithy conceit is in him, is surcharged, and confounded by those his long and far-fetched preambles. If I bestow but one hour in reading him, which is much for me; and let me call to mind what substance, or juice I have drawn from him, for the most part, I find nothing but wind & ostentation in him: for he is not yet come to the arguments, which make for his purpose, and reasons that properly concern the knot or pith I seek-after. These Logical and Aristotelian ordinances are not availfull for me, who only endeavour to become more wise and sufficient, and not more witty or eloquent. I would have one begin with the last point: I understand sufficiently what death and voluptuousness are: let not a man busy himself to anatomize them. At the first reading of a Book, I seek for good and solid reasons, that may instruct me how to sustain their assaults. It is neither gramaticall subtleties, nor logical quiddities, nor the witty contexture of choice words, or arguments, and syllogisms, that will serve my turn. I like those discourses that give the first charge to the strongest, part of the doubt; his are but flourishes, and languish every where. They are good for Schools, at the bar, or for Orators and Preachers, where we may slumber: and though we wake a quarter of an hour after, we may find and trace him soon enough. Such a manner of speech is fit for those judges, that a man would corrupt by hook or crook, by right or wrong, or for children and the common people, unto whom a man must tell all, and see what the event will be. I would not have a man go about, and labour by circumlocutions, to induce and win me to attention, and that (as our Herold's or Criers do) they shall ring out their words. Now hear me, now listen, or ●o●yes. The Romans in their Religion were wont to say, Hoc age; which in ours we say, Sursum corda. There are so many lost words for me. I come ready prepared from my house. I need no allurement nor sauce; my stomach is good enough to digest raw meat: And whereas with these preparatives and flourishes, or preambles, they think to sharpen my taste, or stir my stomach, they cloy and make it wallowish. Shall the privilege of times excuse me from this sacrilegious boldness, to deem Plato's Dialogismes to be as languishing, by overfilling and stuffing his matter? And to bewail the time that a man, who had so many thousands of things to utter, spends about so many, so long, so vain, and idle interlocutions, and preparatives? My ignorance shall better excuse me, in that I see nothing in the beauty of his language. I generally inquire after Books, that use sciences, and not after such as institute them. The two first, and Pliny, with others of their rank, have no Hoc age in them, they will have to do with men, that have forewarned themselves; or if they have, it is a material and substantial Hoc age, and that hath his body apart. I likewise love to read the Epistles and ad Atticum, not only because they contain a most ample instruction of the History, and affairs of his times, but much more because in them I descry his private humours. For, (as I have said elsewhere (I am wonderful curious, to discover and know, the mind, the soul, the genuine disposition, and natural judgement of my Authors. A man ought to judge their sufficiency, and not their customs, nor them by the show of their writings. Which they set forth on this world's Theatre. I have sorrowed a thousand times, that ever we lost the book, that Brutus writ of Virtue. Oh it is a goodly thing to learn the theoric of such as understand the practice well. But forsomuch as the Sermon is one thing, and the Preacher an other: I love as much to see Brutus in Plutarch, as in himself, I would rather make choice to know certainly, what talk he had in his Tent with some of his familiar friends, the night foregoing the battle, than the speech he made the morrow after to his Army: and what he did in his chamber or closet, than what in the Senate or market place. As for Cicero, I am of the common judgement, that besides learning, there was no exquisite excellency in him: He was a good Citizen, of an honest-gentle nature, as are commonly fat and burly men; for so was he: But to speak truly of him, full of ambitious vanity and remiss niceness. And I know not well how to excuse him, in that he deemed his Poesy worthy to be published. It is no great imperfection, to make bad verses, but it is an imperfection in him, that he never perceived how unworthy they were of the glory of his name. Concerning his eloquence, it is beyond all comparison, and I verily believe, that none shall ever equal it. Cicero the younger, who resembled his father in nothing, but in name, commanding in Asia, chanced one day to have many strangers at his board, and amongst others, one Castius sitting at the lower end, as the manner is to thrust-in at great men's tables: Cicero inquired of one of his men what he was, who told him his name, but he dreaming on other matters, and having forgotten what answer his man made him, asked him his name twice or thrice more: the servant, because he would not be troubled to tell him one thing so often, and by some circumstance make him to know him better. It is, said he, the same Castius, to whom some have told you, that in respect of his own, maketh no account of your father's eloquence: Cicero being suddenly, moved, commanded the said poor Castius, to be presently taken from the table, and well whipped in his presence: Lo-heere an uncivil and barbarous host. Even amongst those, which (all things considered) have deemed his eloquence matchless and incomparable others there have been, who have not spared to note some faults in it: As great Brutus said, that it was an eloquence, broken, halting, and disjointed, fractam & elumbem: Incoherent and sinnowlesse. Those Orators that lived about his age, reproved also in him the curious care he had of a certain long cadence, at the end of his clauses, and noted these words, Esse videatur, which he so often useth. As for me, I rather like a cadence that falleth shorter, cut like I am bikes: yet doth he sometimes confound his numbers; but it is seldom: I have especially observed this one place. Ego verò me minus diu senem esse mallem, quam esse sevem, Ci●. d● Senect. antequam essem. But I had rather, not be an old man so long as I might be, than to be old before I should be. Historians are my right hand; for they are pleasant and easy: and therewithal, the man with whom I desire generally to be acquainted, may more lively and perfectly be discovered in them, than in any other composition: the variety and truth of his inward conditions, in gross and by retale: the diversity of the means of his collection and composing, and of the accidents that threaten him. Now, those that write of men's lives, forasmuch as they ammuse and busy themselves more about counsels than events, more about that which cometh from within, than that which appeareth outward; they are fittest for me: And that's the reason why Plutarch above all in that kind, doth best please me. Indeed I am not a little grieved that we have not a dozen of Laer●ij, or that he is not more known, or better understood: for, I am no less curious to know the fortunes and lives of these great masters of the world, than to understand the diversity of their decrees and conceits. In this kind of study of History, a man must, without distinction, toss and turn over all sorts of Authors, both old and new, both French and others, if he will learn the things they so diversely treat-of. But me thinks that Caesar above all doth singularly deserve to be studied, not only for the understanding of the History, as of himself; so much perfection and excellency is there in him more than in others, although Sallust be reckoned one of the number. Verily I read that Author with a little more reverence and respect, than commonly men read profane and human Works: sometimes considering him by his actions, and wonders of his greatness, and other times weighing the purity and inimitable polishing and elegancy of his tongue, which (as Cicero saith) hath not only exceeded all Historians, but haply Cicero himself: with such sincerity in his judgement. Speaking of his enemies, that except the false colours, wherewith he goeth about to cloak his bad cause, and the corruption and filthiness of his pestilent ambition. I am persuaded there is nothing in him to be found faultwith: and that he hath been over-sparing to speak of himself: for, so many notable and great things could never be executed by him, unless he had put more of his own unto them, than he setteth down. I love those Historians that are either very simple, or most excellent. The simple who have nothing of their own to add unto the story, and have but the care and diligence to collect whatsoever come unto their knowledge, and sincerely and faithfully to register all things, without choice or culling, by the naked truth leave our judgement more entire, and better satisfied. Such amongst others (for example sake) plain and well-meaning Froisard, who in his enter prize, hath marched with so free and genuine a purity, that having committed some oversight; he is neither ashamed to acknowledge, nor afraid to correct the same, wheresoever he hath either notice or warning of it: and who representeth unto us the diversity of the news than currant, and the different reports, that were made unto him. The subject of an history should be naked, bare, and formelesse; each man according to his capacity or understanding may reap commodity out of it. The curious and most excellent have the sufficiency to cull and choose that, which is worthy to be known, and may select of two relations, that which is most likely: of the condition of Princes, and of their humours, thereby they conclude their counsels, and attribute convenient words unto them: they have reason to assume authority unto them, to direct and shapen our belief unto theirs. But truly that belongs not to many. Such as are between both (which is the most common fashion) it is they that spoil all; they will needs chew our meat for us, and take upon them a law to judge, and by consequence to square and incline the story according to their fantasy; for, where the judgement bendeth one way, a man cannot choose but wrest and turn his narration that way. They undertake to choose things worthy to be known, and now and then conceal either a word, or a secret action from us, which would much better instruct us: omitting such things as they understand not, as incredible: and happily such matters, as they know not how to declare, either in good Latin, or tolerable French. Let them boldly install their eloquence, and discourse: Let them censure at their pleasure, but let them also give us leave to judge after them: And let them neither alter nor dispense by their abridgements and choice, any thing belonging to the substance of the matter; but let them rather send it pure and entire with all her dimensions unto us. Most commonly (as chiefly in our age) this charge of writing histories is committed unto base, ignorant, and mechanical kind of people, only for this consideration that they can speak well; as if we sought to learn the Grammar of them; and they have some reason, being only hired to that end, and publishing nothing but their tittle-tattle to aim at nothing else so much. Thus with store of choice and acquaint words, and wyredrawne phrases they huddle up, and make a hodge-pot of a laboured contexture of the reports, which they gather in the market-places, or such other assemblies. The only good histories are those that are written by such as commanded, or were employed themselves in weighty affairs, or that were partners in the conduct of them, or that at least have had the fortune to manage others of like quality. Such in a manner are all the Grecians and Romans. For, many eye-witnesses having written of one same subject (as it happened in those times, when Greatness and Knowledge did commonly meet) if any fault or oversight have past them, it must be deemed exceeding light, and upon some doubtful accident. What may a man expect at a physicians hand, that discourseth of war, or of a bare Scholar, treating of Princes secret designs? If we shall but note the religion, which the Romans had in that, we need no other example: Asinius Polio found some mistaking or oversight in Caesar's Commentaries, whereinto he was fallen, only because he could not possibly oversee all things with his own eyes, that happened in his Army, but was feign to rely on the reports of particular men, who often related untruths unto him; or else because he had not been curiously advertised, and distinctly informed by his Lieutenants and Captains, of such matters as they in his absence had managed or effected. Whereby may be seen, that nothing is so hard, or so uncertain to be found-out, as the certainty of a Truth, sithence no man can put any assured confidence concerning the truth of a battle, neither in the knowledge of him, that was General, or commanded over it, nor in the soldiers that fought, of any thing, that hath happened amongst them; except after the manner of a strict point of law, the several witnesses are brought and examined face to face, and that all matters be nicely and thoroughly sifted by the objects and trials of the success of every accident. Verily the knowledge we have of our own affairs is much more barren and feeble. But this hath sufficiently been handled by Bodine, and agreeing with my conception. Somewhat to aid the weakness of my memory, and to assist her great defects; for it hath often been my chance to light upon books, which I supposed to be new, and never to have read, which I had not understanding diligently read and runover many years before, and all bescribled with my notes: I have a while since accustomed myself, to note at the end of my book (I mean such as I purpose to read but once) the time I made an end to read it, and to set down what censure or judgement I gave of it; that so, it may at least, at another time represent unto my mind, the air and general Idea, I had conceived of the Author in reading him. I will here set down the Copy of some of mine annotations, and especially what I noted upon my Guicciardine about ten years since: (For what language soever my books speak unto me, I speak unto them in mine own.) He is a diligent Historiographer, and from whom in my conceit, a man may as exactly learn the truth of such affairs as passed in his time, as of any other writer whatsoever: and the rather because himself hath been an Actor of most part of them, and in very honourable place. There is no sign or appearance, that ever he disguised or coloured any matter, either through hatred, malice, favour, or vanity; whereof the free and impartial judgements he giveth of great men, and namely of those by whom he had been advanced or employed in his important charges, as of Pope Clement the seventh, beareth undoubted testimony. Concerning the parts wherewith he most goeth about to prevail, which are his digressions and discourses, many of them are very excellent, and enriched with fair ornaments, but he hath too much pleased himself in them: for, endeavouring to omit nothing that might be spoken, having so full and large a subject, and almost infinite, he proveth somewhat languishing, and giveth a taste of a kind of scholastical tedious babbling. Moreover, I have noted this, that of so several and diverse arms, successes, and effects he judgeth of; of so many and variable motives, alterations, and counsels, that he relateth, he never referreth any one unto virtue, religion, or conscience: as if they were all extinguished and banished the world: and of all actions, how glorious soever in appearance they be of themselves, he doth ever impute the cause of them, to some vicious and blameworthy occasion, or to some commodity and profit. It is impossible to imagine, that amongst so infinite a number of actions, whereof he judgeth, some one have not been produced and compassed by way of reason. No corruption could ever possess men so universally, but that some one must of necessity escape the contagion; which makes me to fear, he hath had some distaste or blame in his passion, and it hath haply fortuned, that he hath judged or esteemed of others according to himself. In my Philip de Comines, there is this: In him you shall find a pleasing-sweet, and gently-gliding speech, fraught with a purely-sincere simplicity, his narration pure and unaffected, and wherein the Authors unspotted-good meaning doth evidently appear, void of all manner of vanity or ostentation speaking of himself, and free from all affection or envy speaking of others: his discourses and persuasions, accompanied more with a well-meaning zeal, and mere verity, then with any laboured and exquisite sufficiency, and all-through, with gravity and authority, representing a man well-born, and brought up in high negotiations. Upon the memories and history of Monsieur du Bellay: It is ever a wellpleasing thing, to see matters written by those, that have assayed how, & in what manner they ought to be directed and managed: yet can it not be denied, but that in both these Lords, there will manifestly appear a great declination from a free liberty of writing, which clearly shineth in ancient writers of their kind: as in the Lord of jonuille, familiar unto Saint Lewis, Eginard, Chancellor unto Charlemagne; and of more fresh memory in Philip de Comines. This is rather a declamation or pleading for king Francis against the Emperor Charles the fifth, than an History. I will not believe, they have altered or changed any thing concerning the generality of matters, but rather to wrest and turn the judgement of the events, many times against reason, to our advantage, and to omit whatsoever they supposed, to be doubtful or ticklish in their master's life: they have made profession of it witness the recoilings of the Lords of Momorancy and Byron, which therein are forgotten; and which is more, you shall not so much as find the name of the Lady of Estampes mentioned at all. A man may sometimes colour, and happily hide secret actions, but absolutely to conceal that, which all the world knoweth, and especially such things as have drawne-on public effects, and of such consequence, it is an inexcusable defect, or as I may say unpardonable oversight. To conclude, whosoever desireth to have perfect information and knowledge of King Fraucis the first, and of the things happened in his time, let him address himself elsewhere, if he will give any credit unto me. The profit he may reap here, is by the particular destruction of the battles and exploits of war, wherein these Gentlemen were present; some privy conferences, speeches, or secret actions of some Princes, that then lived, and the practices managed, or negotiations directed by the Lord of Langeay, in whom doubtless are very many things, well-worthie to be known, and divers discourses not vulgar. The eleventh Chapter. Of Cruelty. ME thinks virtue is another manner of thing, and much more noble than the inclinations unto goodness, which in us are engendered. Minds well borne, and directed by themselves, follow one same path, and in their actions represent the same visage, that the virtuous do. But virtue importeth, and soundeth somewhat I wot not what greater and more active, then by an happy complexion, gently and peaceably, to suffer itself to be led or drawn, to follow reason. He that through a natural facility, and genuine mildness, should neglect or contemn injuries received, should no doubt perform a rare action, and worthy commendation: But he who being touched and stung to the quick, with any wrong or offence received, should arm himself with reason against this furiously-blind desire of revenge, and in the end after a great conflict, yield himself master over-it, should doubtless do much more. The first should do well, the other virtuously: the one action might be termed goodness, the other virtue. For, It seemeth, that the very name of virtue presupposeth difficulty, and inferreth resistance, and cannot well exercise itself without an enemy. It is peradventure the reason why we call God good, mighty, liberal, and just, but we term him not virtuous. His works are all voluntary, unforced, and without compulsion. Of Philosophers, not only Stoics, but also Epicurians (which endearing I borrow of the common received opinion, which is false) whatsoever the nimble saying or witty quipping of Arsesilaus implieth, who answered the man that upbraided him, how diverse men went from his school to the Epicurian, but none came from thence to him: I easily beleeve-it (said he) for, Of cocks are many capons made, but no man could ever yet make a cock of a capon. For truly, in constancy, and rigour of opinions, and strictness of precepts, the Epicurian Sect doth in no sort yield to the Stoic. And a Stoic acknowledging a better faith, than those disputers, who to contend with Epicurus, and make sport with him, make him to infer and say what he never meant, wresting and wire drawing his words to a contrary sense, arguing and silogizing by the Grammarians privilege, another meaning, by the manner of his speech, and another opinion, then that they know he had, either in his mind, or manners, saith, that he left to be an Epicurian, for this one consideration amongst others, that he findeth their pitch to be over-high and inaccessible: Et ij qui 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 vocantur, sunt 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 omnésque virtutes Sen. epist. 13. & colunt & retinent. And those that are called lovers of pleasure, are lovers of honesty and justice, and do both reverence and retain all sorts of virtue. Of Stoic and Epicurian Philosophers, I say, there are diverse, who have judged, that it was not sufficient to have the mind well placed, well ordered, and well disposed unto virtue; it was not enough to have our resolutions and discourse beyond all the affronts and checks of fortune; but that moreover, it was very requisite, to seek for occasions, whereby a man might come to the trial of it: They will diligently quest and seek out for pain, smart, necessity, want, and contempt, that so they may combat them, and keep their mind in breath: Multum sibi adijcit virtus lacessita. Virtue provoked adds much to itself. It is one of the reasons why Epaminondas (who was of a third sect) by a very lawful way refuseth some riches, fortune had put into his hands, to the end (as he saith) he might have cause to strive and resist poverty, in which want and extremity he ever continued after. Socrates did in my mind more undauntedly enure himself to this humour, maintaining for his exercise the peevish frowardness of his wife, than which no essay can be more vex-full, and is a continual fight at the sharp. Metellus of all the Roman Senators (he only having undertaken with the power of virtue, to endure the violence of Saturninus Tribune of the people in Rome, who by main force went about, to have a most unjust law pass in favour of the Commonalty: by which opposition, having incurred all the capital pains, that Saturninus had imposed on such as should refuse it) entertained those that led him to the place of execution, with such speeches: That to do evil was a thing very easy, and too demissely base: and to do well where was no danger, was a common thing; but to do well, where was both peril and opposition, was the peculiar office of a man of virtue. These words of Metellus do clearly represent unto us, what I would have verified; which is, that virtue rejecteth facility to be her companion: And that an easeful, pleasant, and declining way, by which the regular steps of a good inclination of nature, are directed, is not the way of true virtue. She requireth a craggy, rough, and thorny way; She would either have strange difficulties to wrestle withal (as that of Metellus) by whose means fortune herself is pleased to break the roughness of his course; or inward encumbrances, as the disordinate appetites and imperfections of our condition bring unto her. Hitherto I have come at good ease; but at the end of this discourse, one thing cometh into my mind, which is, that the soul of Socrates, which is absolute the perfectest that ever came to my knowledge, would, according to my account, prove a soul deserving but little commendation: For, I can perceive no manner of violence or vicious concupiscence in him: I can imagine no manner of difficulty or compulsion in the whole course of his virtue. I know his reason so powerful, and so absolute mistress over him, that she can never give him way to any vicious desire, and will not suffer it so much as to breed in him. To a virtue so exquisite, and so high-raised as his is, I can persuade nothing. Me thinks I see it march with a victorious and triumphant pace, in pomp, and at ease, without let or disturbance. If virtue cannot shine but by resisting contrary appetites, shall we then say, it cannot pass without the assistance of vice, and oweth him this, that by his means it attaineth to honour and credit? What should also betide of that glorious and generous Epicurian voluptuousness, that makes account, effeminately to pamper virtue in her lap, and there wanton to entertain it, allowing it for her recreation, shame, reproach, agues, poverty, death, and tortures? If I presuppose, that perfect virtue is known by combating sorrow, and patiently under-going pain, by tolerating the fits and agonies of the gout, without stirring out of his place; if for a necessary object, I appoint her sharpness and difficulty; what shall become of that virtue, which hath attained so high a degree, as it doth not only despise all manner of pain, but rather rejoiceth at-it, and when a strong fit of the colic shall assaile-it, to cause itself to be tickled; as that is, which the Epicurians have established, and whereof diverse amongst them, have by their actions left most certain proofs untous? As also others have, whom in effect I find to have exceeded the very rules of their discipline; witness Cato the younger; when I see him die, tearing and mangling his entrails; I cannot simply content myself to believe, that at that time, he had his soul wholly exempted from all trouble, or free from vexation: I cannot imagine, he did only maintain himself in this march or course, which the rules of the Stoic sect had ordained unto him, settled, without some alteration or motion, and impassibility. There was, in my conceit, in this man's virtue overmuch cheerfulness, and youthfulness to stay there. I verily believe, he felt a kind of pleasure and sensuality in so noble an action, and that therein he more pleased himself, then in any other, he ever performed in his life. Sic abijt è vita, ut causam moriendi Cic. Tuse. q●. lib. 1. nactum se esse gauderet. So departed he his life, that he rejoiced to have found an occasion of death. I do so constantly beleeve-it, that I make a doubt, whether he would have had the occasion of so noble an exploit taken from him. And if the goodness which induced him to embrace public commodities more than his own, did not bridle me, I should easily fall into this opinion, that he thought himself greatly beholding unto fortune, to have put his virtue unto so noble a trial, and to have favoured that robber, to tread the ancient liberty of his Country under foot. In which action me thinks I read a kind of unspeakable joy in his mind, and a motion of extraordinary pleasure, joined to a manlike voluptuousness, at what time it beheld the worthiness, and considered the generosity and haughtiness of his enterprise, Deliberate a morte feroci●r. Hor. li. 1. od. 27. 29. Cleopatra. Then most in fierceness did he pass, When he of death resolved was. not urged or set-on by any hope of glory, as the popular and effeminate judgements have judged: For, that consideration is over base, to touch so generous, so haughty, and so constant a heart; but for the beauty of the thing itself in itself, which he, who managed all the springs, and directed all the wards thereof, saw much more clearer, and in its perfection, than we can do. Philosophy hath done me a pleasure to judge, that so honourable an action, had been undecently placed in any other life, then in Cato's, and that only unto his it appertained to make such an end. Therefore did he with reason persuade both his son, and the Senators that accompanied him, to provide otherwise for themselves. Catoni quum incredibilem natura tribuisset gravitatem, eámque ipse perpetua constantia roboravisset, sempérque in proposito consilio permansisset: moriendum potius quam tyranni vultus aspiciendus erat. Whereas nature had afforded Cato an incredible gravity, and he had strengthened it by continual constancy, and ever had stood firm in his purposed designs, rather to die then behold the Tyrant's face. Each death should be such as the life hath been. By dying we become no other than we were. I ever interpret a man's death by his life. And if a man shall tell me of any one undaunted in appearance, joined unto a weak life; I imagine it to proceed of some weak cause, and suitable to his life. The ease therefore of his death, and the facility he had acquired by the vigour of his mind, shall we say, it ought to abate something of the lustre of his virtue? And which of those, that have their spirits touched, be itnever so little, with the true tincture of Philosophy, can content himself to imagine Socrates, only, free from fear and passion, in the accident of his imprisonment, of his fetters, and of his condemnation? And who doth not perceive in him, not only constancy and resolution (which were ever his ordinary qualities) but also a kind of I wot not what new contentment, and careless rejoicing in his last behaviour, and discourses? By the startling at the pleasure, which he feeleth in clawing of his legs, after his fetters were taken-off; doth he not manifestly declare an equal glee and joy in his soul, for being rid of his former incommodities, and entering into the knowledge of things to come? Cato shall pardon me (if he please) his death is more tragical, and further extended, whereas this in a certain manner is more fair and glorious. Aristippus answered those, that bewailed the same; when I die, I pray the Gods send me such a death. A man shall plainly perceive in the minds of these two men, and of such as imitate them (for I make a question whether ever they could be matched) so perfect an habitude unto virtue, that it was even converted into their complexion. It is no longer a painful virtue, nor by the ordinances of reason, for the maintaining of which, their mind must be strengthened: It is the very essence of their soul; it is her natural and ordinary habit. They have made it such, by a long exercise and observing the rules and precepts of Philosophy, having lighted upon a fa●●e and rich nature. Those vicious passions, which breed in us, find no entrance in them. The vigour and constancy of their souls, doth suppress and extinguish all manner of concupiscences, so soon as they but begin to move. Now that it be not more glorious, by an undaunted and divine resolution, to hinder the growth of temptations, & for a man to frame himself to virtue, so that the very seeds of vice be clean rooted out; then by main force to hinder their progress; and having suffered himself to be surprised by the first assaults of passions, to arm and bandy himself, to stay their course and to suppress them: And that this second effect be not also much fairer, then to be simply stored with a facile and gentle nature, and of itself distasted and in dislike with licentiousness and vice, I am persuaded there is no doubt. For, this third and last manner, seemeth in some sort, to make a man innocent, but not virtuous: free from doing ill, but not sufficiently apt to do well. Seeing this condition is so near unto imperfection and weakness, that I know not well how to clear their confines and distinctions. The very names of goodness and innocency, are for this respect in some sort names of contempt. I see that many virtues, as chastity, sobriety, and temperance, may come unto us by means of corporal defects and imbecility. Constancy in dangers (if it may be termed constancy) contempt of death, patiency in misfortunes, may happen, and are often seen in men, for want of good judgement in such accidents, and that they are not apprehended for such as they are indeed. Lack of apprehension and stupidity, do sometimes counterfeit virtuous effects. As I have often seen come to pass, that some men are commended, for things they rather deserve to be blamed. An Italian gentleman did once hold this position in my presence, to the prejudice & disadvantage of his nation; That the subtlety of the Italians, and the vivacity of their conceptions was so great, that they foresaw such dangers and accidents as might betide them so far-off, that it was not to be deemed strange, if in times of war, they were often seen to provide for their safety, yea, before they had perceived the danger: That we and the Spaniards, who were not so wary and subtle, went further; and that before we could be frighted with any peril, we must be induced to see it with our eyes, and feel it with our hands, and that even than we had no more hold: But that the Germans and Swissers, more shallow and leaden-headed, had scarce the sense and wit to re-advise themselves, at what time they were even overwhelmed with misery, and the axe ready to fall on their heads. It was peradventure but in jest, that he spake-it, yet is it most true, that in the art of warrefare, new trained Soldiers, and such as are but novices in the trade, do often headlong, and hand over head cast themselves into dangers, with more inconsideration, than afterward when they have seen and endured the first shock, and are better trained in the school of perils. — haud ignarus, quantùm nova gloria in armis, Et praedulce decus primo certamine possit. Not ignorant, how much in arms new praise, And sweetest honour, in first conflict weighs. Lo here the reason why when we judge of a particular action, we must first consider many circumstances, and thoroughly observe the man, that hath produced the same before we name and censure it. But to speak a word of myself: I have sometimes noted my friends to term that wisdom in me, which was but mere fortune; and to deem that advantage of courage and patience, that was advantage of judgement and opinion: and to attribute one title for another unto me, sometimes to my profit, and now and then to my loss. As for the rest, I am so far from attaining unto that chief and most perfect degree of excellency, where a habitude is made of virtue, that even of the second, I have made no great trial. I have not greatly strived to bridle the desires, wherewith I have found myself urged and pressed. My virtue, is a virtue, or to say better innocency, accidental and casual. Had I been borne with a less regular complexion, I imagine my state had been very pitiful, and it would have gone hard with me: for, I could never perceive any great constancy in my soul, to resist and undergo passions, had they been any thing violent. I cannot foster quarrels, or endure contentions in my house. So am I not greatly beholding unto myself, in that I am exempted from many vices: — si vitijs mediocribus, & mea paucis Hor. li. 8. sat. 6. 65. Mendosa est natura, alioquirecta velut si Egregio inspersos reprehendas corpore naevos. If in a few more fault's my nature fail, Right otherwise: as if that you would rail On pretty moles well placed, On body seemly graced. I am more indebted to my fortune, then to my reason for it: She hath made me to be borne of a race famous for integrity and honesty, and of a very good father. I wot not well whether any part of his humours have descended into me, or whether the domestic examples, and good institution of my infancy have insensibly set their helping hand unto it; or whether I were otherwise so borne: Seu Libra, seu me Scorpius aspicit Hor. li. 2. od. 17. 17. Formidolosus, pars violentior Natalis horae, seu tyrannus Hesperiae Capricornus undae. Whither the chief part of my birth-houre were Ascendent Libra, or Scorpius full of fear, Or in my Horoscope were Capricorn, Whose tyranny near western Seas is borne. But so it is, that naturally of myself, I abhor and detest all manner of vices. The answer of Antisthenes to one, that demanded of him, which was the best thing to be learned: To unlearn evil, seemed to be fixed on this image, or to have an aim at this. I abhor them (I say) with so natural, and so innated an opinion, that the very same instinct and impression, which I sucked from my nurse, I have so kept, that no occasions could ever make me alter the same: No, not mine own discourses, which because they have been somewhat lavish in noting or taxing something of the common course, could easily induce me to some actions, which this my natural inclination makes me to hate. I will tell you a wonder, I will tell it you indeed: I thereby find in many things, more stay and order in my manners, then in my opinion: and my concupiscence less debauched, than my reason. Aristippus established certain opinions so bold, in favour of voluptuousness & riches, that he made all Philosophy to mutiny against him. But concerning his manners, Dionysius the tyrant, having presented him with three fair young Wenches, that he might choose the fairest; he answered he would choose them all three, and that Paris had very ill success, forsomuch as he had preferred one above her fellows. But they being brought to his own house, he sent them back again, without tasting them. His servant one day carrying store of money after him, and being so overcharged with the weight of it, that he complained, his Master commanded him, to cast so much thereof away, as troubled him. And Epicurus, whose positions are irreligious and delicate, demeaned himself in his life very laboriously, and devoutly. He wrote to a friend of his, that he lived but with brown bread and water, and entreated him to send him a piece of chief, against the time he was to make a solemn feast. May it be true, that to be perfectly good, we must be so by an hidden, natural, and universal propriety, without law, reason, and example? The disorders and excesses, wherein I have found myself engaged, are not (God be thanked) of the worst. I have rejected and condemned them in myself, according to their worth; for, my judgement was never found to be infected by them. And on the other side, I accuse them more rigorously in myself, then in an other. But that is all: as for the rest, I apply but little resistance unto them, and suffer myself over-easily to incline to the other side of the Balance, except it be to order and impeach them from being commixed with others, which (if a man take not good heed unto himself) for the most part entertain and enterchaine themselves the one with the other. As for mine, I have as much as it hath lain in my power, abridged them, and kept them as single, and as alone as I could: — nec ultra juu. sat. ●. 164. Errorom foveo.— Nor do I cherish any more, The error which I bred before. For, as touching the Stoics opinion, who say, that when the wise man worketh, he worketh with all his virtues together; howbeit, according to the nature of the action, there be one more apparent than others (to which purpose the similitude of man's body might, in some sort, serve their turn; for, the action of choler cannot exercise itself, except all the humours setto their helping-hand, although choler be predominant) if thence they will draw alike consequence, that when the offender trespasseth, he doth it with all the vices together. I do not so easily believe them, or else I understand them not; for, in effect, I feel the contrary. They are sharpe-wittie subtleties, and without substance, about which Philosophy doth often busy itself. Some vices I shun; but othersome I eschew as much as any Saint can do. The Peripatetikes do also disavow this connexitie, and indissoluble knitting together. And Aristotle is of opinion, That a wise and just man may be both intemperate and incontinent. Socrates' avowed unto them, who in his Physiognomy perceived some inclination unto vice, that indeed it was his natural propension, but that by discipline he had corrected the same. And the familiar friends of the Philosopher Stilpo were wont to say, that being borne subject unto wine and women, he had, by study, brought himself to abstain from both. On the otherside, what good I have, I have it by the lot of my birth: I have it neither by law nor prescription, nor by any apprenticeship. The innocency that is in me, is a kind of simple-plaine innocency, without vigour or art. Amongst all other vices, there is none I hate more, than cruelty, both by nature and judgement, as the extremest of all vices. But it is with such an yearning and faint-heartedness, that if I see but a chickens neck pulled off, or a pig sticked, I cannot choose but grieve, and I cannot well endure a seely dew-bedabled hare to groan, when she is seized upon by the bounds; although hunting be a violent sport. Those that are to withstand voluptuousness, do willingly use this argument, to show, it is altogether vicious and unreasonable: That where she is in her greatest prime and chief strength, she doth so oversway us, that reason can have no access unto us, and for a further trial, allege the experience we feel and have of it, in our acquaintance or copulation with women. — cum iam praesagit gaudia corpus L●●r. lib. 4. 1097. Atque in eo est Venus, ut muliebria conserat arva. When now the body doth light-joyes foreknow, And Venus set the woman's fields to sow. Where they think pleasure doth so far transport us beyond ourselves, that our Discourse, than altogether overwhelmed, and our reason wholly ravished in the gulf of sensuality, cannot by any means discharge her function. I know it may be otherwise: And if a man but please, he may sometimes, even upon the very instant, cast his mind on other conceits. But she must be strained to a higher key, and heedfully pursued: I know a man may gourmandize the earnest and thought-confounding violence of that pleasure: for I may with some experience speak of it; and I have not found Venus to be so imperious a goddess, as many, and more reform than myself witness her to be, I think it not a wonder, as doth the Queen of Navarre, in one of the Tales of her Heptameron (which respecting the subject it treateth-of, is a very pretty book) nor do I deem it a matter of extreme difficulty, for a man to weare-out a whole night, in all opportunity and liberty, in company of a fair Mistress, long time before sued-unto, and by him desired; religiously keeping his word, if he have engaged himself, to be contented with simple kisses and plain touching. I am of opinion, that the example of the sport in hunting would more fit the same: wherein as there is less pleasure, so there is more distraction and surprising, whereby our reason being amazed, looseth the leisure to prepare herself against it: when as after a long questing and beating for some game, the beast doth suddenly start, or rouse up before us, and happily in such a place, where we lest expected the same. That sudden motion, and riding, and the earnestness of shouting, jubeting and hallowing, still ringing in our ears, would make it very hard for those, who love that kind of close or chamber-hunting, at that very instant, to withdraw their thoughts elsewhere. And Poets make Diana victoriously to triumph both over the firebrand and arrows of Cupid. Quis non malarum quas amor curas habet Hor. epod. 2. 37. Haec inter obliviscitur? While this is doing, who doth not forget The wicked cares wherewith Loves heart doth fret? But to return to my former discourse, I have a very feeling and tender compassion of other men's afflictions, and should more easily weep for company sake, if possibly for any occasion whatsoever, I could shed tears. There is nothing sooner moveth tears in me, then to see others weep, not only feignedly, but howsoever, whether truly or forcedly. I do not greatly wail for the dead, but rather envy them. Yet do I much wail and moan the dying. The Canibales and savage people do not so much offend me with roasting and eating of dead bodies, as those, which torment and persecute the living. Let any man be executed by law, how deservedly soever, I cannot endure to behold the execution with an unrelenting eye. Some one going about to witness the clemency of julius Caesar; He was (saith he) tractable & mild in matters of revenge. Having compelled the Pirates to yield themselves unto him, who had before taken him prisoner, and put him to ransom, forasmuch as he had threatened to have them all crucified, he condemned them to that kind of death, but it was after he had caused them to be strangled. Philomon his secretary, who would have poisoned him, had no sharper punishment of him, than an ordinary death. Without mentioning the Latin Author, who for a testimony of clemency dareth to allege, the only killing of those, by whom a man hath been offended, it may easily be guessed, that he is tainted with vile and horrible examples of cruelty, such as Roman Tyrants brought into fashion. As for me, even in matters of justice, Whatsoever is beyond a simple death, I deem it to be mere cruelty: And especially amongst us, who ought to have a regardful respect, that their souls should be sent to heaven, which cannot be, having first by intolerable tortures agitated, and as it were brought them to despair. A Soldier, not long since, being a prisoner, and perceiving from a fit a Tower, where he was kept, that store of people flocked together on a green, and Carpenters were busy at work to erect a scaffold, supposing the same to be for him, as one desperate, resolved to kill himself, and searching up and down for some thing to make himself away, found nothing but an old rusty cart-naile, which fortune presented him with; he took it, and therewithal, with all the strength he had, struck and wounded himself twice in the throat, but seeing it would not rid him of life, he then thrust it into his belly up to the head, where he left it fast-sticking. Shortly after, one of his keepers comming-in unto him, and yet living, finding him in that miserable plight, but weltering in his goare-blood, and ready to gasp his last, told the Magistrates of it, which, to prevent time before he should die, hastened to pronounce sentence against him: which when he heard, and that he was only condemned to have his head cut-off, he seemed to take heart of grace again, and to be sorry for what he had done, and took some comfortable drinks, which before he had refused, greatly thanking the judges for his unhoped gentle condemnation: And told them, that for fear of a more sharply-cruell, and intolerable death by law, he had resolved to prevent-it by some violent manner of death, having by the preparations he had seen the Carpenters make, and by gathering of people together, conceived an opinion, that they would torture him with some horrible torment, and seemed to be delivered from death, only by the change of it. Were I worthy to give counsel, I would have these examples of rigour, by which superior powers go about to keep the common people in awe, to be only exercised on the bodies of criminal malefactors: For, to see them deprived of christian burial, to see them haled, disbowelled, parboiled, and quartered, might haply touch the common sort as much, as the pains, they make the living to endure: howbeit in effect it be little or nothing, as saith God, Qui corpus occidunt, & postea non habent quod faciant. Luke 12. 4. Those that kill the body, but have afterwards no more to do: And Poets make the horror of this picture greatly to prevail, yea, and above death, Ci●. Tusc. qu. lib. 1. Hen reliquias semiassi Regis, denudatis ossibus, Per terram sanie delibutas foede divexarier. O that the relics of an halfe-burned King, bones bared, On earth besmeared with filth, should be so foully marred. It was my fortune to be at Rome, upon a day that one Catena, a notorious highway these, was executed: at his strangling no man of the company seemed to be moved to any ruth; but when he came to be quartered, the Executioner gave no blow that was not accompanied with a piteous voice, and hearty exclamation, as if every man had had a feeling sympathy, or lent his senses to the poor mangled wretch. Such inhuman outrages and barbarous excesses should be exercised against the rind, and not practised against the quick. In a case somewhat like unto this, did Artaxerces assuage and mitigate the sharpness of the ancient laws of Persia, appointing that the Lords, which had trespassed in their estate, whereas they were wont to be whipped, they should be stripped naked, and their clothes whipped for them: and where they were accustomed to have their hair pulled-off, they should only have their hat taken off. The Egyptians so devout and religious, thought they did sufficiently satisfy divine justice, in sacrificing painted and counterfeit hogs unto it: An over-hardy invention, to go about with pictures & shadows to appease God, a substance so essential and divine. I live in an age, wherein we abound with incredible examples of this vice, through the licentiousness of our civil and intestine wars: And read all ancient stories, be they never so tragical, you shall find none to equal those, we daily see practised. But that hath nothing made me acquainted with it. I could hardly be persuaded, before I had seen it, that the world could have afforded so marblehearted and savage-minded men, that for the only pleasure of murder would commitit; then cut, mangle, and hack other members in pieces: to rouse and sharpen their wits, to invent unused tortures and unheardof torments; to devise new and unknown deaths, and that in cold blood, without any former enmity or quarrel, or without any gain or profit; and only to this end, that they may enjoy the pleasing spectacle of the languishing gestures, pitiful motions, horror-moving yell, deep▪ fetched groans, and lamentable voices of a dying and drooping man. For, that is the extremest point whereunto the cruelty of man may attain. Vt homo hominem, non iratus, non timens, tantum spectaturus Sen. cl●●. lib. ●. c. 4. occidat. That one man should kill another, neither being angry, nor afeard, but only to look on. As for me, I could never so much as endure, without remorse and grief, to see a poor, silly, and innocent beast pursued and killed, which is harmless and void of defence, and of whom we receive no offence at all. And as it commonly happeneth, that when the Stag begins to be embossed, and finds his strength to faile-him, having no other remedy left him, doth yield and bequeath himself unto us that pursue him, with tears suing to us for mercy. — questúque cruentus Virg. Ae●. li. 7. 521. Atque imploranti similis▪ With blood from throat, and tears from eyes, It seems that he for pity cries. was ever a grievous spectacle unto me. I seldom take any beast alive, but I give him his liberty. Pythagoras was wont to buy fishes of fishers, and birds of fowlers to set them free again. — primóque à cade ferarum Ovid. Metam. lib. 15. 106. Incaluisse puto maculatum sanguine ferrum. And first our blades in blood embrued I deem With slaughter of poor beasts did reeking steam. Such as by nature show themselves bloodie-minded towards harmless beasts, witness a natural propension unto cruelty. After the ancient Romans had once enured themselves without horror to behold the slaughter of wild beasts in their shows, they came to the murder of men and Gladiators. Nature (I fear me) hath of her own self added unto man a certain instinct to humanity. No man taketh delight to see wild beasts sport and wanton to make much one of another: Yet all are pleased to see them tug, mangle, and enterteare one an other. And lest any body should jest at this simphathie, which I have with them. Divinity itself willeth us to show them some favour: And considering, that one selfsame master (I mean that incomprehensible worlds-framer) hath placed all creatures in this his wondrous palace for his service, and that they, as well as we, are of his household: I say, it hath some reason to enjoin us, to show some respect and affection towards them. Pythagoras' borrowed Metempsychosis of the Egyptians, but since, it hath been received of diverse Nations, and especially of our Druids: Morte carent animae, sempérque priore relictâ 158. Sede, novis domibus vi●●nt, habitánque receptae. Our deathless souls, their former seats refrained, In harbours new live and lodge entertained. The Religion of our ancient Gauls, inferred, that souls being eternal, ceased not to remove and change place, from one body to another: to which fantasy was also intermixed some consideration of divine justice. For, according to the soul's behaviours, during the time she had been with Alexander, they said, that God appointed-it another body to dwell-in, either more or less painful, and suitable to her condition. — muta ferarum Clau●. in Ruff. lib. 1 482. Cogit vincla pat●, truculentos ingerit ursis, Praedonésque lupis, fallaces vulpibus addit. Atque ubi per varios annos per mill figuras Egit let●e● purgatos flumine tandem Rursus ad humanae revocat primordia formae. Dumb bands of beasts he makes men's souls endure, 491. blood-thirsty souls he doth to Bears enure, Crafty to Foxes, to wolves bend to rapes; Thus when for many years, through many shapes, He hath them driven in Lethe lake at last, Them purged he turns to man's form whence they passed. If the soul had been valiant, they placed-it in the body of a Lion; if voluptuous, in a Swine; if faint-hearted, in a Stag, or a Hare; if malicious in a Fox, and so of the rest, until that being purified by this punishment, it reassumed and took the body of some other man again. Ipse ego, nam memini, Troiani tempore belli Ovid. M●ta●. lib. 15. 160. Panthoides Euphorbus eram. When Troy was won, I, as I call to mind, Euphorbus was, and Panthus son by kind. As touching that alliance between us and beasts, I make no great account ofit, nor do I greatly admit it; neither of that which diverse Nations, and namely of the most ancient and noble, who have not only received beasts into their society, and company, but allowed them a place far above themselves; sometimes deeming them to be familiars and favoured of their Gods, and holding them in a certain awful respect and reverence, more than human, and others acknowledging no other God, nor no other Divinity, than they. Beluae Cic. Nat. Deor. lib. 1. à barbaris propter beneficium consecratae. Beasts by the Barbarians were made sacred for some benefit. — crocodilon adorat Pars haec, illa pavet saturam serpentibus Ibin, juven. sat. 15 ● Effigies sacri hic nitet aurea Cercopitheci. This country doth the Crocodile adore, That fears the Stork glutted with serpent's gore, The sacred Baboon here▪ In gold shape doth appear. — hic piscem fluminis, illic Oppida tota canem venerantur. 7. A fish here, whole Towns reverence most A Dog they honour in that coast. And the very same interpretation, that Plutarch giveth unto this error, which is very well taken, is also honourable for them. For, he saith, that (for example-sake,) it was neither the Cat nor the ox, that the Egyptians adored; but that in those beasts, they worshipped some image of divine faculties. In this patience and utility, and in that, vivacity, or (as our neighbours the Borgonians with all Germany) the impatience to see themselves shut-vp: Whereby they represented the liberty, which they loved and adored, beyond all other divine faculty, and so of others. But when amongst the most moderate opinions, I meet with some discourses, that go about and labour to show, the near resemblance between us and beasts, and what share they have in our greatest Privileges, and with how much likelihood they are compared unto us, truly I abate much of our presumption, and am easily removed from that imaginary Sovereignty, that some give and ascribe unto us above all other creatures. If all that were to be contradicted, yet is there a kind of respect, and a general duty of humanity, which tieth us, not only unto brute beasts that have life and sense, but even unto trees and plants. Unto men we owe justice, and to all other creatures, that are capable of it, grace and benignity. There is a kind of interchangeable commerce and mutual bond between them and us. I am not ashamed nor afraid to declare the tenderness of my childish Nature, which is such, that I cannot well reject my Dog, if he chance (although out of season) to fawn upon me, or beg of me to play with him. The Turks have alms, and certain Hospitals appointed for brute beasts. The Romans had a public care to breed and nourish Geese, by whose vigilancy their Capitol had been saved. The Athenians did precizely ordain, that all manner of Mules, which had served or been employed about the building of their Temple, called Hecatompedon, should be free, and suffered to feed wheresoever they pleased, without any let or impeachment. The Agrigentines had an ordinary custom, seriously and solemnly to bury all such beasts, as they had held dear; as horses of rare worth and merit, special dogs, choice or profitable birds, or such as had but served to make their children sport. And the sumptuous magnificence, which in all other things was ordinary and peculiar unto them, appeared also almost notably in the stately sumptuousness, and costly number of monuments erected to that end, which many ages after have endured and been maintained in pride and state. The Egyptians were wont to bury their Wolves, their Dogs, their Cats, their Bears, and Crocodiles in holy places, embalming their carcases, and at their deaths to were mourning weeds for them. Cymon caused a stately-honourable tomb to be erected for the Mares, wherewith he had three times gained the prize at running in the Olimpike games. Ancient Xantippus caused his Dog to be interred upon a hill by the sea shore, which ever since hath been named by him. And Plutarch (as himself saith) made it a matter of conscience, in hope of a small gain, to sell or send an Ox to the shambles, that had served him a long time. The twelfth Chapter. An Apology of Raymond Sebond. KNowledge is withoutall contradiction, a most profitable and chief ornament: Those who despise it declare evidently their sottishness: Yet do not Ivalue it at so excessive a rate, as some have done; namely Herillus the Philosopher, who grounded his chief felicity upon it, and held that it lay in her power to make us content and wise: which I cannot believe, nor that which others have said, that Knowledge is the mother of all virtue, and that all vice proceedeth of ignorance. Which if it be, it is subject to a large interpretation. My house hath long since ever stood open to men of understanding, and is very well known to many of them: for, my father, who commanded the same fifty years and upward, set on fire by that new kind of earnestness, wherewith King Francis the first embraced Letters, and raised them unto credit, did with great diligence, and much cost, endeavour to purchase the acquaintance of learned men: receiving and entertaining them as holy persons, and who had some particular inspiration of divine wisdom; collecting their sentences and discourses, as if they had been Oracles; and with so much more reverence and religious regard, by how much less authority he had to judge of them: for, he had no knowledge of Letters, no more than his predecessors before him. As for me, I love them indeed, but yet I worship them not. Amongst others, Peter Bunel (a man in his time, by reason of his learning, of high esteem) having so journed a few days at Montagne with my father, and others of his coat, being ready to depart thence, presented him with a book entitled Theologia naturalis; five liber creatur arum magistri Raimondi de Scbonda. And for somuch as the Italian and Spanish tongues were very familiar unto him, and that the book was written in a kind of latinized Spanish, whereof divers words had Latin terminations; he hoped, that with little aid, he might reap no small profit by it, and commended the same very much unto him, as a book most profitable, and fitting the days in which he gave it him. It was even at what time the new-fangles of Luther began to creep in favour, and in many places to shake the foundation of our ancient belief. Wherein he seemed to be well advised, as he who by discourse of reason foresaw, that this budding disease would easily turn to an execrable Atheism: For, the vulgar wanting the faculty to judge of things by themselves, suffering itself to be carried away by fortune, and led-on by outward appearances, if once it be possessed with the boldness to despise, and malapertness to impugn the opinions, which to fore it held in awful reverence (as are those wherein consisteth their salvation) and that some articles of their religion be made doubtful and questionable, they will soon and easily admit an equal uncertainty in all other parts of their belief, as they that had no other grounded authority or foundation, but such as are now shaken and weakened, and immediately reject (as a tyrannical yoke) all impressions, they had in former times received by the authority of Laws, or reverence of ancient custom, Nam cupidè conculcatur nimis anté metutum Lutr. l. 5. 1150 That which we feared before too much, We gladly scorn when 'tis not such. undertaking thenceforward to allow of nothing, except they have first given their voice and particular consent to the same. My father, a few-days before his death, lighting by chance upon this book, which before he had neglected, amongst other writings commanded me to translate the same into French. It is easy to translate such authors, where nothing but the matter is to be represented; but hard and dangerous, to undertake such as have added much to the grace and elegancy of the language, namely to reduce them into a weaker and poorer tongue. It was a strange task, and new occupation for me: but by fortune being then at leisure, and unable to gainsay the commandment of the best father that ever was; I came ere long (as well as I could) to an end of it: wherein he took singular delight, and commanded the same to be printed, which accordingly was after his decease performed. I found the conceits of the author to be excellent, the contexture of his work well followed, and his project full of piety. Now forasmuh as divers ammuse themselves to reade-it, and especially Ladies, to whom we owe most service, it hath often been my hap to help them, when they were reading it, to discharge the book of two principal objections, which are brought against the same. His drift is bold, and his scope adventurous; for he undertaketh by human and natural reasons, to establish and verify all the articles of Christian religion against Atheists. Wherein (to say truth) I find him so resolute and so happy, as I deem it a thing impossible to do better in that argument, and think that none equalleth him. Which book seeming to me both over-rich and exquisite, being written by an author, whose name is so little known, and of whom. all we know, is, that he was a Spaniard, who about two hundred years since professed Physic in Thoulouse. I demanded once of Adrianus Turnebue (a man who knew all things) what such a book might be, who answered, that he deemed the same to be some Quintessence extracted from out Saint Thomas Aquinas: For, in good truth, only such a spirit fraught with so infinite erudition, and so full of admirable subtility, was capable of such and so rare imaginations. So it is, that whosoever be the author or deviser of it (the title whereof ought not without further reason to be taken from Sebond) he was a very sufficient-worthie man, and endowed with sundry other excellent qualities. The first thing he is reproved for in his Book, is, that Christians wrong themselves much, in that The first Objection. they ground their belief upon human reasons, which is conceived but by faith, and by a particular inspiration of God. Which objection seemeth to contain some zeal of piety; by reason whereof we ought with so much more mildness and regard, endeavour to satisfy them that propose it. It were a charge, more befitting a man conversant, and suitable to one acquainted with the holy Scriptures, than me, who am altogether ignorant in them. Nevertheless I think, that even as to a matter so divine and high and so much exceeding all human understanding, as is this Verity, wherewith it hath pleased the goodness of God to enlighten us, it is most requisite, that he afford and lend us his help. And that, with an extraordinary and privileged favour, that so we may the better conceive and entertain the same: For, I suppose that means merely human can no way be capable of it; which if they were; so many rare and excellent minds, and so plenteously stored with natural faculties, as have been in times past, would never by their discourse, have missed the attaining of this knowledge. It is faith only, which lively and assiuredly embraceth the high mysteries of our Religion. And no man can doubt, but that it is a most excellent and commendable enterprise, properly to accommodate and fit to the service of our faith, the natural helps and human implements which God hath bestowed upon us. And no question is to be made, but that it is the most honourable employment we can put them unto; and that there is no occupation or intent more worthy a good Christian, than by all means, studies and imaginations, carefully to endeavour, how to embellish, amplify and extend the truth of his belief and religion. It is not enough for us to serve God in spirit and soul, we owe him beside, and we yield unto him a corporal worshipping; we apply our limbs, our motions, and all external things, to honour him. The like aught to be done, and we should accompany our faith with all the reason we possess: Yet always with this proviso, that we think it doth not depend ofus, and that all our strength and arguments can never attain to so supernatural and divine a knowledge: Except it seize upon us, and as it were enter into us by an extraordinary infusion: And unless it also enter into us, not only by discourse, but also by human means, she is not in her dignity, nor in her glory. And verily I fear therefore, that except this way, we should not enjoy-it. Had we fast-holde on God, by the enterposition of a lively faith; had we holdfast on God by himself, and not by us; had we a divine foundation, then should not human and worldly occasions have the power so to shake and totter-us, as they have. Our hold would not then yield to so weak a battery: The love of novelty; the constraint of Princes; the good success of one party; the rash and casual changing of our opinions, should not then have the power to shake and alter our belief. We should not suffer the same to be trouble at the will and pleasure of a new argument, and at the persuasion, no, not of all the rhetoric that ever was: we should withstand these boisterous billows with an inflexible and unmoveable constancy: Illisos fluctus rupes, ut vasta refundit, Virg. Aen. l. 7. 587. Et varias circumlatrantes dissipat undas — Mosesua. As huge rocks do regorgeth invective waves, And dissipate the billows brawling braves, Which these 'gainst those still bellow out, Those being big and standing stout. If this ray of Divinity did in any sort touch us, it would every where appear: Not only our words, but our actions, would bear some show and lustre of it. Whatsoever should proceed from us, might be seen enlightened with this noble and matchless brightness. We should blush for shame, that in human sects, there was never any so factions, what difficulty or strangeness soever his doctrine maintained, but would in some sort conform his behaviours and square his life unto it: Whereas so divine and heavenly an instution never marks christians but by the tongue. And will you see whether it be so? Compare but our manners unto a Turk, or a Pagan, and we must needs yield unto them: Whereas in respect of our religions superiority, we ought by much, yea by an incomparable distance, outshine them in excellency: And well might a man say, Are they so just, so charitable, and so good? Then must they be Christians. All other outward shows and exterior apparences are common to all religions: As hope, affiance, events, ceremonies, penitence and martyrdom. The peculiar badge of our truth should be vertive; As it is the heavenliest and most difficult mark, and worthiest production of Verity itself. And therefore was our good Saint Lewis in the right, when that Tartarian king, who was become a Christian, intended to come to Lions, to kiss the Pope's feet, and there to view the sanctity he hoped to find in our lives and manners, instantly to divert him from it, fearing lest our dissolure manners, and licentious kind of life, might scandalise him, and so alter his opinion fore-conceived of so sacred a religion. How beit the contrary happened to another, who for the same effect being come to Rome and there viewing the disolutenesse of the prelate's and people of those days, was so much the more confirmed in our religion; considering with himself what force and divinity it must of consequence have, since it was able, amidst so many corruptions, and so viciosly-poluted hands, to maintain her dignity and splendour. Had we but one only grain of faith, we should then be able to remove mountains from out their place. saith the holy Writ. Our actions being guided, and accompanied with divinity, should not then be merely human, but even as our belief, contain some wonder-causing thing. Brevis est institutio vitae honestae beataeque, si credas. The institution of an honest and blessed life is but short, if a man believe. Some make the world believe, that they believe things they never do. Others (and they are the greater number) persuade themselves they do so, as unable to conceive what it is to believe. We think it strange if in wars, which at this time do so oppress our state, we see the events to float so strangely, and with so common and ordinary a manner to change and alter: The reason is, we add nothing unto it but our own. justice, which is on the one side, is used but for a cloak and ornament; she is indeed alleged, but nor received, nor harboured, nor wedded. She is as in the mouth of a Lawyer, and not as she ought in the heart and affection of the party. God oweth his extraordinary assistance unto faith and religion, and not to our passions. Men are but directors untoit and use religion for a show: It ought to be clean contrary. Do but mark if we do not handle it as it were a piece of wax, from our so right and so firm a rule, to draw so many contrary shapes. When was this better seen than nowadays in France? Those which have taken it on the left, and those who have taken it on the right hand; Such as speak the false, and such who speak the truth of it, do so alike employ and fit the same to their violent and ambitious enterprises, proceed unto it with so conformable a proceeding in riotousness and injustice, they make the diversity they pretend in their opinions doubtful, and hard to be believed, in a thing from which depends the conduct and law of our life. Can a man see from one same School and Discipline, more united and like customs and fasnions to proceed? View but the horrible impudency wherewith we toss divine reasons to and fro, and how irreligiously we have both rejected and taken them again, according as fortune hath in these public storms transported us from place to place. This solemn proposition; Whether it be lawful for a subject, for the defence of religion, to rebel and take arms against his Prince: Call but to mind, in what mouths but a twelvemonth ago the affirmative of the same was the chief pillar of the one part; the negative was the maine-underproppe of the other: And listen now from whence cometh the voice and instruction of one and other: and whether arms clatter and clang less for this, than for that cause. And we burn those men, which say, that truth must be made to abide the yoke of our need: And how much worse doth France, than speak it? Let us confess the truth? he that from out this lawful army should cull out, first those who follow it for mere zeal of a religious affection, than such as only regard the defence and protection of their country's laws, or service of their Prince; whether he could ever erect a complete company of armed men. How comes it to pass, that so few are found, who have still held one same will and progress in our public revolutions, and that we see them now and then but faintly, and sometimes, as fast as they can headlong to run into the action? And the same men, now by their violence and rashness, and now through their slowness, demissnes, and heaviness to spoil, and as it were overthrow our affairs, but that they are thrust into them by casual motives, and particular consideration, according to the diversities wherewith they are moved? I plainly perceive, we lend nothing unto devotion but the offices that flatter our passions. There is no hostility so excellent, as that which is absolutely Christian. Our zeal worketh wonders, when ever it secondeth our inclination toward hatred, cruelty, ambition, avarice, detraction, or rebellion. Towards goodness, benignity, or temperance, it goeth but slowly, and against the hair, except miraculously, some rare complexion lead him unto it, it neither runs nor flieth to it. Our religion was ordained to root out vices, but it shrowdeth, fostreth and provoketh them. As commonly we say, We must not make a fool of God. Did we believe in him, I say not through faith, but with a simple belief, yea (I speak it to our confusion) did we but believe and know him, as we do another story, or as one of our companions, we should then love him above all other things, by reason of the infinite goodness, and unspeakable beauty that is, and shines in him: Had he but the same place in our affections, that riches, pleasures, glory and our friends have: The best of us doth not so much fear to wrong him, as he doth to injury his neighbour, his kinsman, or his master. Is there so simple a mind, who on the one side having before him the object of one of our vicious pleasures, and on the other to his full view, perfect knowledge and assured persuasion, the state of an immortal glory, that would enter into contention of one for the other? And if we often refuse it through mere contempt: for what draws usto blaspheming, unless it be at all adventures, the desire itself of the offence? The Philosopher Antisthenes, when he was initiated in the mysteries of Orpheus, the priest; saying, unto him, that such as vowed themselves to that religion, should after death receive eternal and perfect felicities, replied, if thou believeit, why dost thou not die thyself? Diogenes more roughly (as his manner was) and further from our purpose, answered the priest, who persuaded him to be one of his order, that so he might come unto, and attain the happiness of the other world: Wilt thou have me believe, that those famous men Agesilaus and Epaminondas, shall be miserable, and that thou, who art but an ass, and dost nothing of any worth, shalt be happy, because thou art a Priest? Did we but receive these large promises of everlasting blessedness with like authority, as we do a philosophical discourse, we should not then have death in that horror as we have: Non iamse moriens dissolvi conquereretur, Luer. l. 3. 630. Sed magis ire foras, vestemque relinquere ut an●uis Gauderet, praelonga senex aut cornua cervus. He would not now complain to be dissolved dying, But rather more rejoice, that now he is forth-flying, Or as a Snake his coat outworn, Or as old Hearts, doth cast his horn. I will be dissolved should we say, and be with jesus Christ. The forcible power of Plato's discourse, of the immortality of the soul, provoked divers of his Scholars unto death, that so they might more speedily enjoy the hopes he told them of. All which is a most evident token, that we receive our religion, but according to our fashion, and by our own hands, and no otherwise than other religions are received. We are placed in the country, where it was in use; where we regard her antiquity, or the authority of those who have maintained her; where we fear the menaces wherewith she threateneth all misbelievers, or follow her promises. The considerations ought to be applied and employed to our belief, but as Subsidiaries: they be human bonds. Another Country, other Testimonies, equal promises: alike menaces, mighe semblably imprint a clean contrary religion in us: wear christians by the same title, as we are either Perigordins or Germans. And as Plato saith, There are ●ew so confirmed in Atheism, but some great danger will bring unto the knowledge of God's divine power. The part doth not touch or concernea good Christian: It is for mortal and worldly religions, to be received by a human convoy. What faith is that like to be, which cowardice of heart doth plant, and weakness establish in us! A goodly faith, that believes that which it believeth, only because it wanteth the courage not to believe the same. A vicious passion, as that of inconstancy and astonishment is, can it possibly ground any regular production in our minds or souls? They establish (saith he) by the reason of their judgement, that whatsoever is reported of hell, or of after-coming pains, is but a fiction; but the occasions to make trial of it, offering itself, at what time age or sickness doth summon them to death: the error of the same, through the horror of their future condition, doth then replenish them with an other kind of belief. And because such impressions make men's hearts fearful, he by his laws, inhibiteth all instruction of such threats, and the persuasion, that any evil may come unto man from the Gods, except for his greater good, and for a medicinable effect, whensoever he falleth into-it. The report of Bion, that being infected with the Athiesmes of Theodorus, he had for along time made but a mockery of religious men; but when death did once seize upon him, he yielded unto the extremest superstions: As if the Gods would either be removed, or come again, according to Bions' business. Plato and these examples conclude, that we are brought to believe in God, either by reason, or by compulsion. Atheism being a proposition, as unnatural and monstrous as it is hard and uneasy to be established in any man's mind, how insolent and unruly soever he may be. Many have been seen, to have conceived, either through vanity or fierceness, strange and seld-knowne opinions, as if they would become reformers of the world, by affecting a profession only in countenance: who though they be sufficiently foolish, yet are they not powerful enough, to ground or settle it in their consciences. Yet will not such leave to list-up their joined hands to heaven, give them but a stoccado on their breast: and when fear shall have suppressed, or sickness vanquished this licentious fervour of a wavering mind, then will they suffer themselves gently to be reclaimed, and discreetly to be persuaded, to give credit unto true belief and public examples. A decree seriously digested is one thing, and these shallow and superficial impressions another, which bred by the dissoluteness of a loose spirit, do rashly and uncertainly float up and down the fantasy of a man. Oh men most brainsick and miserable, that endeavour to be worse than they can! The error of Paganism, and the ignorance of our sacred truth, was the cause of this great soules-fall; but only great in worldly greatness; also in this next abuse, which is, that children and old men, are found to be more susceptible or capable of religion, as if it were bred and had her credit from our imbecility. The bond which should bind our judgement, tie our will, enforce and join our souls to cur Creator, should be a bond taking his doubling and forces, not from our considerations, reasons and passions, but from a divine and supernatural compulsion, having but one form, one countenance, and one grace; which is the authority and grace of God. Now our heart being ruled, and our soul commanded by saith, reason willeth, that she draws all our other parts to the service of her intent, according to their power and faculty. Nor is it likely, but that this vast worldesframe must bear the impression of some marks, therein imprinted by the hand of this great-wondrous Architect, and that even in all things therein created, there must be some image, somewhat resembling, and having coherency with the workman that wrought and framed them. He hath left imprinted in these high and mysterious works, the characters of his divinity: and only our imbecility is the cause, we can nor discover, nor read them. It is that which himself telleth us, That by his visible operations, he doth manifest th●se, that are invisible to us. Sebond hath much traveled about this worthy study, and showeth us, That there is no parcel of this world, that either beiyeth or shameth his Maker. It were a manifest wronging of God's goodness, if all this universe did not consent and sympathize with our belief. Heaven, earth, the elements, our bodies, our soul; yea all things-else, conspire and agree untoit: only the means how to make use of them must be found out: They will instruct us sufficiently, be we but capable to learn and apt to understand. For, this world is a most holy Temple, into which man is brought there to behold Statues and Images, not wrought by mortal hand, but such as the secret thought of God hath made sensible, as the Sun, the Stars, the Waters and the Earth, thereby to represent the intelligible unto us. The invisible things of God (saith Saint Paul) do evidently appear by the creation o● the world, judging of his eternal Wisdom and Divinity by his works. Atque adeo faciem coeli non invidet orbi, Manil. l. 4. 840 Ipse deus, vultusque suos corpúsque recludit, Semper voluend●: seque ipsum inculcat & offered Vt bene cognosci possit, doc●á●que videndo Qualis ent, doceâ●que suas attendere leges. God to the world doth not heavens face envy, But by still moving it doth notify His face and essence, doth himself apply, That he may well be known, and teach by seeing, How he goes, how we should mark his decreeing. Now our reason and human discourse, is as the lumpish and barren matter; and the grace of God is the form thereof. 'tis that, which giveth both fashion and worth unto it. Even as the virtuous actions of Socrates and Cato, are but frivolous and profitable, because they had not their end, and regarded not the love and obedience of the true creator of all things; and namely, because they were ignorant of the true knowledge of God: So is it of our imaginations and discourse; they have a kind of body, but a shapeless mass, without light or fashion, unless faith and the grace of God be joined thereunto. Faith, giving as it were a tincture and lustre unto Sebonds arguments, make them the more firm and solid: They may well serve for a direction and guide to a young learner, to lead and set him in the right way of this knowledge. They in some sort fashion and make him capable of the grace of God, by means whereof our belief is afterward achieved and made perfect. I know a man of authority, brought up in letters, who confessed unto me, that he was reclaimed from out the errors of misbelieving by the Arguments of Sebond. And if it happen, they be despoiled of this ornament, and of the help and approbation of faith, and taken but for mere human fantasies, yet to combat those, that headlong are fallen into the dreadful error, and horrible darkness of irreligion, even then, shall they be found as firm and forcible, as any other of that condition, that may be opposed against them. So that we shall stand upon terms to say unto our parties, Si melius quid habes, accerse, vel imperiumfer. Hor. l. 1. epi. 5. 6. If you have any better, send for me, Or else that I bid you, contented be. Let them either abide the force of our proofs, of show us some others, upon some other subject, better compact and more full. I have in a manner unawares half engaged myself in the second objection, to which I had purposed to frame an answer for Sebond. Some say his Arguments are weak, and simple to verify what he would, and undertake to front him easily. The second obiectiou. Such fellows must somewhat more roughly be handled: for they are more dangerous, and more malicious than the first. Man doth willingly apply other men's sayings to the advantage of the opinions he hath forejudged in himself. To an Atheist all writings make for Atheism. He with his own Venom infecteth the innocent matter. These have some preoccupation of judgement that makes their taste wallowish and tasteless, to conceive the reasons of Sebond. As for the rest, they think to have fair play offered them, if they have free liberty to combat our religion with mere worldly weapons; which they durst not charge, did they behold her in her Majesty, full of authority and commandment. The means I use to suppress this frenzy, and which seemeth the fittest for my purpose, is to crush▪ and trample this human pride and fierceness under-foote-to make them feel the emptiness, vacuity, and no worth of man: and violently to pull out of their hands, the silly weapons of their reason; to make them stoop, and bite and snarl at the ground, under the authority and reverence of God's Majesty. Only to her belongeth science and wisdom, it is she alone can judge of herself, and from her we steal: whatsoever we repute, value, and count ourselves to be. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Of greater, better, wiser mind than he, God can abide no mortal man should be. Let us suppress this overweening, the first foundation of the tyranny of the wicked spirit: Deus superbis resistit: humilibus autem dat gratiam. God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace Pro. 3. 14. 4. 6. 1. Pet. 5. 5. to the humble. Plato saith, That intelligence is in all the Gods, but little or nothing at all in men. Meanwhile it is a great comfort unto a Christian man, to see our mortal implements, and fading tools, so fitly sorted to our holy and divine faith; that when they are employed to the mortal and fading subjects of their Nature, they are never more forcibly, nor more jointly appropriated unto them. Let us then see whether man hath any other stronger reasons in his power, than Sebondes, and whether it lie in him, by argument or discourse, to come to any certainty. For, Saint Augustine, pleading against these kind of men, because he would upbraid them with their injustice, in that they hold the parts of our belief to be false, and that our reason faileth in establishing them. And to show, that many things may be, and have been, whereof our discourse can never ground the nature and the causes; He proposeth and setteth down before them certain known and undoubted experiments, wherein man confesseth to see nothing; which he doth as all things else, with a curious and ingenious search. More must be done, and they must be taught, that to convince the weakness of their reason; we need not go far to cull out rare examples: And that it is so defective and blind, as there is no facility so clear, that is clear enough unto her; that easy and uneasy is all one to her; that all subjects equally, and Nature in General disavoweth her jurisdiction, and inter position. What preacheth truth unto us, when it biddeth us fly and shun worldly Philosophy; when it so often telleth us, that all our wisdom is but folly before God; that of all vanities, man is the greatest; that man, who presumeth of his knowledge, doth not yet know what knowledge is: and that man, who is nothing, if he but think to be something, seduceth and deceiveth himself? These sentences of the Holy Ghost, do so lively and manifestly express, what I would maintain, as I should need no other proof against such as with all submission and obeisance would yield to his authority. But these will needs be whipped to their own Cost, and cannot abide their reason to be combated, but by itself. Let us now but consider man alone without other help, armed but with his own weapons, and unprovided of the grace and knowledge of God, which is all his honour, all his strength, and all the ground of his being. Let us see what holdfast, or freehold he hath in this gorgeous, and goodly equipage. Let him with the utmost power of his discourse make me understand, upon what foundation, he hath built those great advantages and odds, he supposeth to have over other creatures. Who hath persuaded him, that this admirable moving of heavens-vaults; that the eternal light of these lamps so fiercely rolling over his head; that the horror-moving and continual motion of this infinite vast Ocean, were established, and continue so many ages for his commodity and service? Is it possible to imagine any thing so ridiculous, as this miserable and wretched creature, which is not so much as master of himself, exposed and subject to offence of all things, and yet dareth call himself Master and Emperor of this Universe? In whose power it is not to know the least part of it much less to command the same. And the privilege, which he so fond challengeth, to be the only absolute creature in this huge worlds-frame, perfectly able to know the absolute beauty, and several parts thereof, and that he is only of power to yield the great Architect thereof, due thanks for it, and to keep account both of the receipts and layings out of the world. Who hath sealed him this patent? Let him show us his letters of privilege, for so noble and so great a charge. Have they been granted only in favour of the wise? Then concern they but a few. Are the foolish and wicked worthy of so extraordinary a favour? Who being the worst part of the world, should they be preferred before the rest? Shall we believe him; Quorum igitur causa quis dixeri● effectum Cic. nat. Deo. l. 2 esse mundum? Eorum scilicet animantium, quaeratione ●tuntur. Hisunt dij & homines, quibus profectò nihil est melius. For whose cause then shall a man say, that the world was made? In sooth, for those creatures sake, which have the use of reason: Those are Gods and men, than whom assuredly nothing is better. We shall never sufficiently baffle the impudence of this conjoining. But silly wretch, what hath he in him worthy such an advantage? To consider the incorruptible life of the celestial bodies, their beauty, greatness, and agitation, continued with so just and regular a course: — cum suspicimus magni coelestia mundi Lucr. l. 5. 1214. Templa super, stellisque micantibus Aethera fixum, Et venit in mentem Lune Solisque viarum. When we of this great world the heavenly-temples see Above us, and the skies with shine-starres fixed to be, And mark in our discourse, Of Sun and Moon the course. To consider the power and domination, these bodies have, not only upon our lives, and condition of our fortune; Facta et●nim & vitas hominum suspendit ab astris. Manil. astron. lib. 3 58. For on the stars he doth suspend Of men, the deeds, the lives, and end. But also over our dispositions and inclinations, our discourses and wills, which they rule, provoke, and move at the pleasure of their influences, as our reason finds and teacheth us. — speculat ●que longé Manil. astron. lib. 1. 62. ●●prendi: tacit is dominantia legibus astra. Et totum alterna mundum ratione m●veri. Fatorúmque vices cersis discern●re signis. By speculation it from far discerns, How star's by secret laws do guide our sterns, And this whole world is moved by intercourse And by sure signs of fates to know the course. Seeing that not a man alone, nor a King only. But Monarchies and Empires, yea, and all this world below is moved at the shaking of one of the least heavenly motions. Quantaque quam par vifaciant discrimina motus: Manil. astron. lib. 4. 93. Tantum est hoc regnum quod regibus imper at ipsis. How little motions make, how different affection: So great this kingdom is, that hath Kings in subjection. If our virtue, vices, sufficiency and knowledge; and the same discourse we make of the power of the stars, and the comparison between them and us, cometh as our reason judgeth by their mean and through their favour. — furit alter amore, Manil. astron. lib. 4. 178. Et pontu●s tranare potest & vertere Troiam, Alteriussors est scribendis legibus apta: Ecce patrem nati perimunt, not òs● parents, Mutuáque armati coeunt in vulner a fratres, Non nostrum hoc bellum est, coguntur tanta mov●re, Inque suas f●rri poenas, lacer and áque membra: 118. Hoc quoque fatale est sic ipsum expendere fatum. One with love madded, his love to enjoy, Can cross the seas, and overturn all Troy: Another's lot is to set laws severe. Loesonnes' kill fathers, father's sons destroy, Brothers for mutual wounds their arms do bear, Such war is not our own, forced are we to it, Drawn to our own pains, our own limbs to tear; Fates so t'observe 'tis fatal, we must do it, If we hold that portion of reason, which we have, from the distribution of heaven, how can she make us equal unto it? How can she submit his essence and conditions unto our knowledge? Whatsoever we behold in those huge bodies, doth affright us: Quae molitio, Cie. Nat. Deo. lib. 1. quae ferrament●, qui victes, quae machinae, qui ministri tant i operis fuerunt? What workmanship? What yron-braces? What main beams, what engines? What Masons and Carpenters, were to so great a work? Why do we then deprive them of soul, of life, and of discourse? Have we discovered or known any unmoveable or insensible stupidity in them? We, who have no commerce but of obedience with them? Shall we say we have seen the use of a reasonable soul, in no other creature, but in man? What? Have we seen any thing comparable to the Sun? Leaveth he to be, because we have seen nothing semblable unto it? And doth he leave his moving, because his equal is no where to be found? If that which we have not seen, is not, our knowledge is wonderful abridged? Quae sunt tanta animi angustia? What narrowness of my heart is such? Be they not dreams of human vanity, to make a celestial earth, or world of the Moon? As Anaxagoras did? And therein to plant worldly habitations, and as Plato and Plutarch do, erect their colonies for our use. And to make of our known earth a bright shining planet? Inter caetera mortalitatis incommoda, & hoc est caligo Sen ir●. lib. 2. cap. 9 mentium: nec tantùm necessitas errandi, sed errorum amor. Among other discommodities of our mortality this is one, there is darkness in our minds, and in us not only necessity of erring, but a love of errors. Corruptibile corpus aggravat animam, & deprimit terrena inhabitatio sensum Sen. epist. 95. multa cogitantem. Our corruptible body doth over load our soul, and our dwelling on earth weighet down our sense, that is set to think of many matters. Presumption is our natural and original infirmity. Of all creatures man is the most miserable and frail, and therewithal the proudest and disdainfullest. Who perceiveth and seeth himself placed here, amidst their filth and mire of the world, fast tied and nailed to the worst, most senseless, and drooping part of the world, in the vilest corner of the house, and farthest from heavens-coape, with those creatures, that are the worst of the three conditions; and yet dareth imaginarily place himself above the circle of the Moon, and reduce heaven under his feet. It is through the vanity of the same imagination, that he dare equal himself to God, that he ascribeth divine conditions unto himself, that he selecteth and separateth himself from out the rank of other creatures; to which his fellow-brethrens and compeers, he cuts out and shareth their parts, and alotteth them what portions of means or forces he thinks good. How knoweth he by the virtue of his understanding the inward and secret motions of beasts? By what comparison from them to us doth he conclude the brutishness, he ascribeth unto them? When I am playing with my Cat, who knows whether she have more sport in dallying with me, than I have in gaming with her? We entertain one another with mutual apish tricks, If I have my hour to begin or to refuse, so hath she hers. Plato in setting forth the golden age under Saturn, amongst the chief advantages that man had then, reporteth the communication he had with beasts, of whom inquiring and taking instruction, he knew the true qualities, and differences of every one of them: by, and from whom he got an absolute understanding and perfect wisdom, whereby he led a happier life, than we can do. Can we have a better proof to judge of man's impudence, touching beasts? This notable Author was of opinion, that in the greatest part of the corporal form, which nature hath bestowed on them, ●he hath only respected the use of the Prognostications, which in his days were thereby gathered. That defect which hindereth the communication between them and us, why may it not as well be in us, as in them? It is a matter of divination to guess in whom the fault is, that we understand not one another. For, we understand them no more than they us. By the same reason, may they as well esteem us beasts, as we them. It is no great marvel if we understand them not: no more do we the cornish, the Welsh, or Irish. Yet have some boasted that they understood them, as Apollonius Thyaneus, Melampus, Tiresias, Thales and others. And if it be (as Cosmographers report) that there are Nations, who receive and admit a Dog to be their King, it must necessarily follow, that they give a certain interpretation to his voice and moving. We must note the parity that is between us. We have some mean understanding of their senses, so have beasts of ours, about the same measure. They flatter and faun upon us, they threat, and entreat us, so do we them. Touching other matters, we manifestly perceive, that there is a full and perfect communication amongst them, and that not only those of one same kind understand one another, but even such as are of different kinds Et mutae pecudes, & denique secla ferarum Lucr. l. 5. 1069. Dissimiles suerunt voces variasque cluere cum metus aut dolor est, aut cum iam gaudia gliscunt. Whole heard's (though dumb) of beasts, both wild and tame Use diverse voices, different sounds to frame, As joy, or grief, or fear, Vpspringing passions bear. By one kind of barking of a Dog, the Horse knoweth he his angry; by another voice of his, he is nothing dismayed. Even in beasts, that have no voice at all, by the reciprocal kindness, which we see in them, we easily infer, there is some other mean of entercommunication: their jestures treat, and their motions discourse. Non alia longè ratione atque ipsa videtur Ib. 1040. Protrahere ad gestum▪ pu●ros infantia linguae. No otherwise, then, for they cannot speak, Children are drawn by signs their minds to break. And why not, as well as our dombe-men dispute, argue, and tell histories by signs? I have seen some so ready, and so excellent in it, that (in good sooth) they wanted nothing to have their meaning perfectly understood. Do we not daily see lovers with the looks and rolling of their eyes, plainly show when they are angry or pleased, and how they entreat, and thank one another, assign meetings, and express any passion? E'l silentio anchor suole Haver prieghi & parole. Silence also hath a way, Words and prayers to convey. What do we with our hands? Do we not sue and entreat, promise and perform, call men unto us, and discharge them, bid them farewell, and be gone, threaten, pray, beseech, deny, refuse, demand, admire, number, confess, repent, fear, be ashamed, doubt, instruct, command, incite, encourage, swear, witness, accuse, condemn, absolve, injury, despise, defy, despite, flatter, applaud, bless, humble, mock, reconcile, recommend, exalt, shew-gladnes, rejoice, complain, wail, sorrow, discomfort, despair, cry-out, forbid, declare silence and astonishment? And what not? With so great variation, and amplifying, as if they would contend with the tongue. And with our head, do we not invite and call to-us, discharge and send away, avow, disavow, belie, welcome, honour, worship, disdain, demand, direct, rejoice, affirm, deny, complain, cherish, blandish, chide, yield, submit, brag, boast, threaten, exhort, warrant, assure, and inquire? What do we with our eyelids? And with our shoulders? To conclude, there is no motion, nor jesture, that doth nor speak, and speaks in a language, very easy, and without any teaching to be understood: nay, which is more, it is a language common and public to all: whereby it followeth (seeing the variety, and several use it hath from others) that this must rather be deemed the proper and peculiar speech of human nature. I omit that, which necessity in time of need; doth particularly instruct and suddenly teach such as need it; and the alphabets upon fingers, and grammars by jestures; and the sciences, which are only exercised and expressed by them: and the nations Pliny reporteth to have no other speech. An Ambassador of the City of Abdera, after he had talked a long time unto Agis King of Sparta, said thus unto him: O King, what answer wilt thou that I bear back unto our citizens? Thus (answered he) that I have suffered thee to speak all thou wouldst, and as long as thou pleasedst, without ever speaking one word. Is not this a kind of speaking silence, and easy to be understood? And as for other matters; what sufficiency is there in us, that we must not acknowledge from the industry and labours of beasts? Can there be a more formal, and better ordered policy, divided into so several charges and offices, more constantly entertained, and better maintained, then that of Bees? Shall we imagine, their so orderly disposing of their actions, and managing of their vacations, have so proportioned and formal a conduct without discourse, reason and forecast? His quidam signis atque haec exempla secuti, Virg. Georg. lib. 4. 219. Esse apibus partem divinae mentis, & haustus Aethereos dixere. Some by these signs, by these examples moved, Said that in Bees there is and may be proved Some taste of heavenly kind, Part of celestial mind. The Swallows, which at the approach of spring-time, we see to pry, to search, and ferret all the corners of our houses; is it without judgement they seek, or without discretion they choose from out a thousand places, that which is fittest for them, to build their nests and lodging? And in that pretie-cunning contexture, and admirable framing of their houses, would birds rather fit themselves with a round, than a square figure with an obtuse, than a right angle, except they knew both the commodities and effects of them? Would they (suppose you) first take water, and then clay, unless they guessed that the hardness of the one is softened by the moistness of the other; Would they floor their palace with moss or down, except they foresaw, that the tender parts of their yong-ons, shall thereby lie more soft and easy? Would they shroud and shelter themselves from stormy weather, and build their cabins toward the East, unless they knew the different conditions of winds, and considered that some are more healthful and safe for them, than some others? Why doth the Spider spin her artificial web thick in one place, and thin in another? And now useth one, and then another knot, except she had an imaginary kind of deliberation, forethought and conclusion? We perceive by the greater part of their works, what excellency beasts have overus, and how weak our-arte and short our cunning-is, if we go about to imitate them. We see notwithstanding, even in our grossest works, what faculties we employ in them, and how our mind employeth the uttermost of her skill and forces in them: why should we not think as much of them? Wherefore do we attribute the works, which excel what ever we can perform, either by nature or by art, unto a kind of unknown, natural and servile inclination? Wherein vnawars, we give them a great advantage overus, to infer, that nature, led by a certain loving kindness, leadeth and accompanieth them (as it were by the hand) unto all the actions and commodities of their life; and that she forsaketh and leaveth us to the hazard of fortune; And by art to quest, and finde-out those things, that are behooveful and necessary for our preservation: and therewithal denieth us the means, to attain by any institution and contention of spirit, to the natural sufficiency of brute beasts: So that their brutish stupidity, doth in all commodities exceed, whatsoever our divine intelligence can effect. Verily, by this account, we might have just cause and great reason, to term her a most injust and partial stepdame: But there is no such thing, our policy is not so deformed and disordered. Nature hath generally embraced all her creatures: And there is not any, but she hath amply stored with all necessary means for the preservation of their being. For, the daily plaints, which I often hear men make (when the licence of their conceits, doth sometimes raise them above the clouds, and then headlong tumbling them down even to the Antipodes) exclaiming, that man is the only forsaken, and out cast creature, naked on the bare earth, fast bound and swathed, having nothing to cover and arm himself withal, but the spoil of others; whereas Nature hath clad and mantled all other creatures, some with shells, some with husks, with ●●ndes, with hair, with wool, with stings, with bristles, with hides, with moss, with feathers, with scales, with fleeces, and with ●●ke, according as their quality might need, or their condition require: And hath fenced and a●●ed them, with claws, with nails, with talents, with hooves, with teeth, with stings, and with horns, both to assail others, and to defend themselves: And hath moreover instructed them in every thing fit and requisite for them, as to swim, to run, to creep, to fly, to roar, to bellow, and to sing: where as man only (Oh silly-wretched man) can neither go, nor speak, nor shift, nor feed himselefe, unless it be to whine and weep only, except he be taught. Tum porro, puer ut saevis proiectus ab undis Lucr. li. 5. 222 Navita, nudus humi jacet infans, indigus omni Vitali auxilio, cum primùm in luminis oras Nexibus ex alvo matris natura profudit, Vagitúque locum lugubri complete, ut aequum est Cui tantùm in vita restet transire malorum: At variae crescunt pecudes, armenta, feraeque, Nec crepitacula eis opus est, nec cuiquam adhibenda est Alma nutricis blanda atque infracta loquela: Nec varias quaerunt vestes pro tempore caeli: Denique non armis opus est, non moenibus altis Queis sua tutentur, quando omnibus omnia large Tellus ipsaparit, nature àque daedalarerum. An infant, like a shipwreck ship-boy cast from seas, Lies naked on the ground, and speechless, wanting all The helps of vital spirit, when nature with small ease Of throws, to see first light, from her womb lets him fall, Then, as is meet, with morn'full cries he fills the place, For whom so many ills remain in his lives race. But diverse herds of tame and wild beasts forward spring, Nor need they rattles, nor of nurses cockring-kinde The flattering broken speech their lulluby need sing. Nor seek they diverse coats, as diverse seasons bind. Lastly no armour need they, nor high-reared wall Whereby to guard their own, since all things unto all Worke-mastres nature doth produce, And the earth largely to their use. Such complaints are false: There is a greater equality, and more uniform relation in the policy of the world. Our skin is as sufficiently provided with hardness against the injuries of the wether, as theirs: Witness diverse Nations, which yet never knew the use of clothes. Our ancient Gauls were but slightly appareled, no more are the Irishmen, our neighbours, in so cold a climate: Which we may better judge by ourselves; for, all those parts of our body, we are pleased to leave bare to wind and wether, are by experience found able to endure it: If there be any weak part in us, which in likelihood should seem to fear cold, it ought to be the stomach, where digestion is made: Our forefathers used to have it bare, and our Ladies (as dainty-nice as they be) are many times seen to go open-breasted, as low as their navel. The bandles and swaths about our children are no more necessary: And the mothers of Lacedemonia, brought up theirs in all liberty and looseness of moving their limbs without swathing or binding. Our whining, our puling and our weeping is common to most creatures, and diverse of them are often seen to wail and groan along time after their birth, forsomuch as it is a countenance fitting the weakness wherein they feel themselves, As for the use of eating, and feeding, it is in us, as in them, natural and without teaching. Sentit enim vim quisque suam quam possit abuti. Ibid. 104. For every one soone-understanding is Of his own strength, which he may use amiss. Who will make question, that a child having attained the strength to feed himself, could not quest for his meat, and shift for his drink? The earth without labour or tilling doth sufficiently produce and offer him as much as he shall need. And if not at all times, no more doth she unto beasts; witness the provision, we see the Ants and other silly creatures to make against the cold and barren seasons of the year. The nations, that have lately been discovered, so plenteously stored with all manner of natural meat and drink, without care or labour, teach us, that bread is not our only food: And that without toiling, our common mother nature, hath with great plenty stored us with whatsoever should be needful for us, yea, as it is most likely, more richly and amply, then now adays she doth, that we have added so much art unto it: Et tellus nitidas fruges vinetáque ●eta Lucr. l. 2. 1166. Sponte sua primùm mortalibus ipsa creavit, Ipsa dedit dulces foetus, & pabula laeta, Quae nunc vix nostro grandescunt aucta labour, Conterimúsque boves & vires agricolarum: The earth itself at first of th'own accord Did men rich Vineyards, and clean fruit afford. It gave sweet of springs food from sweeter soil Which yet scarce greater grow for all our toil, Yet tyre therein we do, Both ploughmen's strength and Oxen too. The gluttonous excess, and intemperate lavishness of our appetite exceeding all the inventions, we endeavour to find out, wherewith to glut and cloy the same. As for arms and weapons, we have more, that be natural unto us, than the greatest part of other beasts: We have more several motions of limbs, and naturally, without teaching: We reap more serviceable use of them, than they do: Those which are trained up to fight naked, are seen head long to cast themselves into the same hazards and dangers, as we do. If some beasts excel us in this advantage, we exceed many others: And the industry to enable, the skill to fortify, and the wit to shelter and cover our body by artificial means, we have it by a kind of natural instinct and teaching. Which to prove; the Elephant doth whet and sharpen histeeths, he useth in war (for he hath some he only useth for that purpose) which he heed fully spareth, and never puts them to other service: When Bulls prepare themselves to fight, they raise, scatter, and with their feet, cast the dust about them: The wild Boar whets his tusks; when the Ichneumon is to grapple with the Crocodile, he walloweth his body in the mire, then lets the same dry and harden upon him, which he doth so often, that at last the same becomes as hard and tough as any well compact crust, which serveth him in stead of a Cuirace. Why shall we not say, that it is as natural for us to arm ourselves with wood and iron? As for speech, sure it is, that if it be not natural it is not necessary. I believe nevertheless, that if a child, bred in some uncouth solitariness, far from haunt of people (though it were a hard matter to make trial of it) would no doubt have some kind of words to express, and speech to utter his conceits: And it is not to be imagined, that nature hath refused us that mean, and barred us that help, which she hath bestowed upon many and diverse other creatures: For, what is that faculty, we see in them, when they seem to complain, to rejoice, to call one unto another for help, and bid one another to loving copulation (as commonly they do) by the use of their voice, but a kind of speech? And shall not they speak among themselves, that speak and utter their mind unto us, and we to them? How many ways speak we unto our Dogs, and they seem to understand and answer us? With another language, and with other names speak we unto, and call them, than we do our Birds, our Hogs, our Oxen, our Horses, and such like; and according to their different kinds we change our Idiom. Cosi per entro loro schiera bruna S'ammusa i'vna con l'altra formica, force â spiar lor via, & lor fortuna. So Ants amidst their sable-colored band One with another mouth to mouth confer, Haply their way, or state to understand. Me seemeth that Lactantius doth not only attribute speech unto beasts, but also laughing. And the same difference of tongues, which according to the diversity of Countries is found amongst us, is also found amongst beasts of one same kind. Aristotle to that purpose allegeth the diverse calls or purres of Partridges, according to the situation of their place of breeding: — variaeque volucres Lucr. l. 5. 100LS. Longè alias alio iaciunt in tempore voces, Et partim mutant cum tempestatibus unâ Raucisones cantus. And diverse birds, send-forth much diverse sounds At diverse times, and partly change the grounds, Of their hoarce-sounding song, As seasons change along. But it would be known, what language such a child should speak: and what▪ some report by divination, hath no great likelihood. And if against this opinion, a man would allege unto me, that such as are naturally deaf, speak not at all: I answer, that it is not only because they could not receive the instruction of the world by their ears, but rather in as much as the sense of hearing, whereof they are deprived, hath some affinity with that of speaking, both which with a natural kind of ligament or seam, hold and are fastened together: In such sort, as what we speak, we must first speak it unto ourselves, and before we utter and send the same forth to strangers, we make it inwardly to sound unto our ears. I have said all this, to maintain the coherency and resemblance, that is in all human things, and to bring us unto the general throng. We are neither above nor under the rest: what ever is under the cope of heaven (saith the wise man) runneth one law and followeth one fortune. Indupedita suis fatalibus omnia vinclis. Ibid. 885. All things enfolded are, In fatal bonds as fits their share. Some difference there is, there are orders and degrees; but all is under the visage of one same nature. — res quaeque suo rit● procedit, & omnes Ibid 932. Foedere naturae cert● discrimina servant. All things proceed in their course, natures all Keep difference, as in their league doth fall. Man must be forced, and marshaled within the lists of this policy. Miserable man with all his wit cannot in effect go beyond it: he is embraced, and engaged, and as other creatures of his rank are, he is subjected in like bonds, and without any prerogative or essential pre-excellencie, what ever Privilege he assume unto himself, he is of very mean condition. That which is given by opinion or fantasy hath neither body nor taste. And if it be so, that he alone, above all other Creatures, hath this liberty of imagination, and this licence of thoughts, which represent unto him, both what is and what is not and what him pleaseth, falsehood and truth; it is an advantage bought at a very high rate, and whereof he hath little reason to glory: For thence springs the chiefest source of all the mischiefs that oppressehim, as sin, sickness, irresolution, trouble and despair. But to come to my purpose, I say therefore, there is no likelihood, we should imagine, the beasts do the very same things by a natural inclination and forced genuitie, which we do of our own free-will and industry. Of the very same effects we must conclude alike faculties; and by the richest effects infer the noblest faculties, and consequently acknowledge, that the same discourse and way, we hold in working, the very same, or perhaps some other better, do beasts hold. Wherefore shall we imagine that natural compulsion in them, that prove no such effect ourselves? Since it is more honourable to be addressed to act, and tied to work orderly, by and through a natural and unavoideable condition, and most approaching to Divinity, then regularly to work and act, by, and through a casual and rash liberty, and it is safer to leave the reigns of our conduct unto nature, then unto ourselves. The vanity of our presumption maketh us rather to be beholding, and as it were indebted unto our own strength, for our sufficiency, then unto her liberality; and every other creatures with natural gifts, and yield those unto them, that so we may en-noble and honour ourselves with gifts purchased: as me thinketh, by a very simple humour: For, I would prise graces, and value gifts, that were altogether mine own, and natural unto me, as much as I would those, I had begged, and with a long prenticeship, shifted. For, It lieth not in our power to obtain a greater commendation, then to be favoured both of God and Nature. By that reason, the Fox, which the inhabitants of Thrace use when they will attempt to march upon the ice of some frozen river, and to that end let her go loose afore them, should we see her running alongst the river side, approach her ear close to the ice, to listen whether by any far or near distance, she may hear the noise or roaring of the water, running under the same, and according as she perceiveth the ice thereby to be thick or thin, to go either forward or backward; might not we lawfully judge, that the same discourse possesseth her head, as in like case it would ours? And that it is a kind of debating-reason and consequence, drawn from natural sense▪ Whatsoever maketh a noise moveth▪ whatsoever moveth, is not frozen, whatsoever is not frozen, is liquid; whatsoever is liquid, yields under any weight? For to impute that only to a quickness of the sense of hearing, without discourse or consequence, is but a fond conceit, and cannot enter into my imagination. The like must be judged of so many wiles, and inventions, wherewith beasts save themselves from the snares, and scape the ba●ts we lay to entrap them. And if we will take hold of any advantage tending to that purpose, that it is in our power to seize upon them, to employ them to our service, and to use them at our pleasure; it is but the same odds we have one upon another. To which purpose we have our slaves or bondmen; and were not the Climacides, certain women in Syria, which creeping on all four, upon the ground, served the Ladies in steed of footstoles or ladders to get up into their coaches? Where the greater part of free men for very slight causes, abandon both their life and being, to the power of others. The wives and Concubines of the Thracians strive and contend, which of them shallbe chosen, to be slain over her husbands or lover's tomb. Have tyrants ever failed to find many men vowed to their devotion? Where some for an overplusse, or superergation have added this necessity, that they must necessarily accompany them, as well in death, as in life. Whole hosts of men have thus tied themselves unto their Captains. The tenor of the oath ministered unto the scholars, that entered and were admitted the rude school of Roman Gladiators, emplied these promises: which was this. We vow and swear, to suffer ourselves, to be enchained, beaten, burned and killed with the sword, and endure whatsoever any lawful fenser ought to endure for his master: most religiously engaging both our body and soul to the use of his service: Vre meum si vis flamma caput, & pete ferr● Tibul. l. 1. el 9 21. Corpus, & intorto verbere ●ergaseca. Burnetyrant (if thou wilt) my head with fire, with sword▪ My body strike, my back cut with hard-twisted cord Was not this a very strict covenant? Yet were there some years ten thousand found, that entered and lost themselves in those schools. When the Scythians buried their King, they, strangled over his dead body, first, the chiefest and best beloved of his Concubines, than his Cupbearer, the Master of his horse, his Chamberlain, the Usher of his Chamber, and his master Cook. And in his anniversary killed fifty horse, mounted with fifty Pages, whom before, they had slain with thrusting sharp stakes into their fondament, which going up along their chine-bone, came out at their throat. Whom thus mounted; they set in orderly ranks about the tomb. The men that serveus, do it better cheap, and for a less curious, and favourable entreating, than we use unto birds, unto horses, and unto dogs. What cark and toil, apply we not ourselves unto for their sakes? Me thinks, the vilest and basest servants, will never do that so willingly for their Masters, which Princes are glad to do for their beasts. Diogenes seeing his kinsfolks, to take care how they might redeem him out of thraldom; they are fools (said he) for, it is my Master, that governeth, keepeth feedeth and serveth me: And such as keep or entertain beasts, may rather say they serve them, than that they are served of them. And if they have that natural greater magnanimity, that never Lion was seen to subject himself unto another Lion, nor one Horse unto another Horse, for want of heart. As we hunt after beasts, so Tigers and Lions hunt after men, and have a like exercise one upon another: Hounds over the Hare; the Pike or Luce over the Tench; the Swallows over the Grasshoppers, and the Sparrow-hawkes over Blackbirds and Larks. serpent ciconia pullos I●●e▪ sat. 14. 74 Nutrit, & inventâ per devia rura lacertâ, Et leporem aut capream famulae jovis, & generosae In saltu venantur aves. The stork her yong-ones feeds with serpents pray, And lyzerts found some where out of the way. joves servants-Eagles, hawks of nobler kind, In forests hunt, a hare or kid to find. We share the fruits of our prey with our dogs and hawks, as a meed of their pain and reward of their industry. As about Amphipolis in Thrace, falconers, and wild hawks divide their game equally: And as about the Maeotide-fennes, if fishers do not very honestly leave behind them an even share of their fishings for the wolves that range about those coasts, they presently run and tear their nets. And, as we have a kind of fishing, rather managed by sleight, than strength, as that of hook and line about our Angling-rods, so have beasts amongst themselves. Aristotle reporteth, that the Cuttlefish, casteth along got out of her throat, which like a line she sendeth forth, and at her pleasure pulleth it in again, according as she perceiveth some little fish come near her, who being close-hidden in the gravel or strand, letteth him nibble or bite the end of it, and then by little and little draws it in unto her, until the Fish be so near, that with a sudden leap she may catchit. Touching strength, there is no Creature in the world, open to so many wrongs and injuries as man: He need not a Whale, an Elephant, nor a Crocodile, nor any such other wild beast, of which one alone is of power to defeat a great number of men: silly lice are able to make Silla give over his Dictatorship: The hart and life of a mighty and triumphant Emperor, is but the breakfast of a silly little Worm. Why say we, that skill to discern, and knowledge to make choice (gotten by art, and acquired by discourse) of things good for this life, and availfull against sickness, and so distinguish of those which are hurtful, and to know the virtue of rhubarb, quality of Oak fern, and operation of Polipodie, is only peculiar unto man▪ When we see the Goats of Candia, being shot with an arrow, to choose from out a million of simples, the herb Dittamy or Garden-ginger, and therewith cure themselves; and the Tortoise having eaten of a Viper, immediately to seek for Origan or wild Marjoram, to purge herself: the Dragon to run and clear his eyes with fenel: the Cranes with their bills to minister glisters of sea-water unto themselves; the Elephants to pull out, not only from themselves and their fellows, but also from their masters (witness that of King Porus, whom Alexander defeated) such j●v●lines or darts, as in fight have been thirled or shot at them▪ so nimbly and so cunningly, as ourselves could never do it so easily, and with so little pain: Why say we not likewise that that is science, and prudence in them? For, if to de pres●e them, some would allege, it is by the only instruction and instinct of Nature, they knowit; that will not take the name of science, and title of prudence from them; it is rather to ascribe it unto them, then to us, for the honour of so assured a schoolmistress. Chrysippus, albeit in other things as disdainful a judge of the condition of beasts, as any other Philosopher, considering the earnest move of the dog, who coming into a path, that led three several ways, in search or quest of his Master, whom he had lost, or in pursuit of some prey, that hath escaped him, goeth scenting first one way, and then another, and having assured himself of two, because he findeth not the track of what he hunteth-for, without more ado, furiously betakes himself to the third; he is enforced to confess, that such a dog must necessarily discourse thus with himself. I have followed my Master's footing hit her to, he must of necessity pass by one of these three ways; it is neither this nor that, then consequently he is gone this other. And by this conclusion or discourse assuring himself, coming to the third path, he usetli his sense no more, nor soundes-it any longer, but by the power of reason suffers himself violently to be carried through-it. This mere logical trick, and this use of divided and conjoined propositions, and of the sufficient numbering of parts: Is it not as good, that the dog know it by himself, as by Trapezuntius his logic? Yet are not beasts altogether unapt to be instructed after our manner. We teach Blackbirds, Starlines, Ravens, Plots, and Pasots to chat; and that facility we perceive in them, to lend us their voice so supple, and th●●● wind so tractable, that so we may frame and bringit to a certain number of letters and syllables, witnesseth, they have a kind of inward reason, which makes them so docile, and willing to learn. I think every man is cloyed and wearied●, with seeing so many apish and mimmike tricks, that jugglers teach their Dogs, as the dances, where they miss not one eadence of the sounds or notes they hear: Mark but the diverse turnings, and several kinds of motions, which by the commandment of their bare words they make them perform: But I wonder not a little at the effect, which is ordinary amongst us; and that is, the dogs which blind men use, both in City and Country: I have observed how suddenly they will stop when they come before some doors, where they are wont to receive alms; how carefully they will avoid the shock of Cartes and Coaches, even when they have room enough to pass by themselves. I have seen some, going along a Towne-ditch, leave a plain and even path, and take a worse, that so they might draw-their Master from the ditch. How could a man make the dog conceive, his charge was only to look to his master's safety, and for his service ●o despise his own commodity and good? And how should he have the knowledge, that such a path would be broad enough for him, but not for a blind man? Can all this be conceived without reason? We must not forget what Plutarch affirmeth to have seen a dog in Rome do, before the Emperor Vespasian the father, in the Theatre of Marcellus. This Dog served a juggler, who was to play a fiction of many faces, and sundry countenances, there he also was to act a part. Amongst other things, he was for a long while to counterfeit and feign himself dead, because he had eaten of a certain drug: having swallowed a piece of bread, which was supposed to be the drug, he began suddenly to stagger and shake, as if he had been giddy, then stretching and laying himself along, as stiff as if he were starke-dead, suffered himself to be dragged and haled from one place to another, according to the subject and plot of the play, and when he knew his time, first he began fair and softly to stir, as if he were roused out of a dead slumber, then lifting up his head, he looked and stared so ghastly, that all the bystanders were amazed. The Oxen, which in the King's gardens of Susa were taught to water them, and to draw water out of deep Welles, turned certain great wheels, to which were fastened great buckets (as in many places of Languedoke is commonly seen) and being every one appointed to draw just a hundred turns a day, they were so accustomed to that number, as it was impossible by any compulsion to make them draw one more, which task ended they would suddenly stop. We are grown striplings before we can tell a hundred; and many Nations have lately been discovered, that never knew what numbers meant. More discourse is required to teach others, then to be taught. And omitting what Democritus judged and proved, which is, that beasts have instructed us in most of our Arts: As the Spider to wove and sew, the Swallow to build, the Swan, and the Nightingale music, and diverse beasts, by imitating them, the Art of Physic: Aristotle is of opinion, that Nightingales teach their yoong-ons to sing, wherein they employ both long time and much care: whence it followeth, that those which we keep tame in Cages and have not had leisure to go to their Parent's school, lose much grace in their singing. Whereby we may conclude, they are much amended by discipline and study. And amongst those that run wild, their song is not all one, nor alike. Each one hath learned either better or worse, according to his capacity. And so jealous are they in their 'prentice-ship, that to excel one another, they will so stoutly contend for the mastery, that many times, such as are vanquished die; their wind and strength sooner failing then their voice. The yoong-ones will very sadly sit recording their lesson, and are often seen labouring how to imitate certain songnotes: The Scholar listeneth attentively to his Master's Lesson, and carefully yieldeth account of it; now one and then another shall hold his peace: Mark but how they endeavour to amend their faults, and how the elder striveth to reprove the youngest. Arrius protesteth to have seen an Elephant, who on every thigh having a Cymbal hanging, and one fastened to his trunk, at the found of which, all other Elephants danced in a round, now rising aloft, then lowting full low at certain cadences, even as the instrument directed them, and was much delighted with the harmony. In the great shows of Rome, Elephants were ordinarily seen, taught to move and dance at the sound of a voice, certain dances, wherein were many strange shifts, interchanges, caprings, and cadences, very hard to be learned. Some have been noted to kon and practise their lessons, using much study and care, as being loath to be chidden and beaten of their masters. But the tale of the Piot is very strange, which Plutarch confidently witnesseth to have seen: This jay was in a Barber's shop of Rome, and was admirable in counterfeiting with her voice whatsoever she heard: It fortuned one day, that certain Trumpeters stayed before this shop, and there sounded a good while; and being gone, all that day, and the next after, the Piot began to be very sad, silent, and melancholy, whereat all men marveled, and surmised that the noise or clang of the Trumpets had thus affrighted and dizzied her, and that with her hearing she had also lost her voice. But at last they found, she was but in a deep study, and dampish retracting into herself, exercising her mind, and preparing her voice, to represent the sound, and express the noise of the Trumpets she had heard: And the first voice she uttered was that, wherein she perfectly expressed their strains, their closes, and their changes: having by her new Prenticeship altogether quit, and as it were, scorned what ever she could prattle before. I will not omit to allege another example of a Dog, which Plutarch also saith to have seen (as for any order or method, I know very well I do but confound it, which I observe no more in ranging these examples, than I do in all the rest of my business) who being in a ship, noted that this Dog was in great perplexity how to get some Oil out of a deep Pitcher, which by reason of its narrow mouth, he could not reach with his tongue, got him presently some Pebble-stones, and put so many into the jar, that he made the Oil come up so near the brim, as he could easily reach and lick some. And what is that but the effect of a very subtle spirit? It is reported, that the Ravens of Barbary will do the like, when the water they would drink is too low. This action doth somewhat resemble that, which juba a King of that Nation relateth of their Elephants; that when through the wiles of those who chase them, any one chanceth to fall into certain deep pits, which they prepare for them, and to deceive them, they cover over with reeds, shrubs, and boughs, his fellows will speedily with all diligence bring great store of stones and pieces of timber, that so they may help to recover him out again. But this beast hath in many other effects, such affinity with man's sufficiency, that would I particularly trace out what experience hath taught, I should easily get an affirmation of what I so ordinarily maintain, which is, that there is more difference found between such and such a man, than between such a beast and such a man. An Elephant's keeper in a private house of Syria, was wont every meal to steal away half of the allowance which was allotted him; it fortuned on a day, his master would needs feed him himself, and having poured that just measure of barley, which for his allowance he had prescribed him, into his manger: the Elephant sternly eyeing his master, with his trunk divided the provender in two equal parts, and laid the one a side, by which he declared the wrong his keeper did him. An other having a keeper, who to increase the measure of his provender, was wont to mingle stones with it, came one day to the pot which with meat in it for his keeper's dinner was seething over the fire, and filled it up with asnes. These are but particular effects: But that which all the world hath seen, and all men know, which is, that in all the armies that came out of the East, their chiefest strength consisted in their Elephants by whom they reaped, without comparison, far greater effects, than now adays we do by our great Ordnance, which in a manner holds their place in a ranged battle (such as have any knowledge in ancient Histories may easily guess it to be true) — si quidem Tyrio servire solebant ●●●. sat. 12. 107 Anibalt, & nostris ducibus, regique Molosso Horum maiores, & dorso far cohortes, Partem aliquam belli, & euntem in praelia turmam. Their elders used great Hannibal to steed Our Leaders, and Molossian Kings at need, And on their back to bear strong-guarding Knights, Part of the war, and troops addressed to fights. A man must needs rest assured of the confidence they had in these beasts, and of their discourse, yielding the front of a battle unto them; where the least stay they could have made, by reason of the hugeness and weight of their bodies, and the least amazement that might have made them turn head upon their own men, had been sufficient to lose all. And few examples have been noted, that ever it fortuned they turned upon their own troops, whereas we headlong throng one upon another, and so are put to rout: They had charge given them, not only of one simple moving, but of many and several parts in the combat: As the Spaniards did to their dogs in their new conquest of the judias; to whom they gave wages, and imparted their booties; which beasts showed as much dexterity in pursuing, and judgement in staying their victory, in charging, or retreating, and as occasion served in distinguishing their friends from their enemies, as they did earnestness and eagerness: we rather admire and consider strange than common things: without which I should never so long have ammused myself about this tedious catalogue. For, in my judgement he that shall nearly check, what we ordinarily see in those beasts that live amongst us, shall in them find as wonderful effects, as those, which with so much toil are collected in far countries and passed ages. It is one same nature, which still doth keep her course. He that thoroughly should judge her present estate, might safely conclude, both what shall happen, and what is past. I have seen amongst us, men brought by sea from distant countries, whose language, because we could in no wise understand, and that their fashions, their countenance, and their clothes did altogether differ from ours; who of us did not deem them brutish and savage? who did not impute their muteness unto stupidity or beastliness, and to see them ignorant of the French tongue, of our kissing the hands, of our low-lowting courtesies, of our behaviour and carriage, by which, without contradiction, human nature ought to take her pattern? Whatsoever seemeth strange unto us, and we understand not, we blame and condemn. The like befalleth us in our judging of beasts. They have divers qualities, which somewhat symbolize with ours: from which, we may comparatively draw some conjecture, but of such as are peculiar unto them, what know we what they are? Horses, Dogs, Oxen, Sheep, Birds, and the greater number of sensitive cratures that live amongst us, know our voice, and by it suffer themselves to be directed. So did the Lamprey which Crassus had, and came to him when he called it; so do the Eels that breed in Arethusa's fountain. And myself have seen some fishpondes, where, at a certain cry of those that kept them, the fish would presently come to shore, where they were wont to be fed. — nomen habent, & ad magistri Mart. ●. 4. epig. 30. 6. Vocem quisque sui venit citatus. They have their proper names, and every one Comes at his master's voice, as called upon By which we may judge, and conclude, that Elephants have some apprehension of religion, forsomuch as after divers washings and purifications, they are seen to lift up their trunk, as we do our arms, and at certain hours of the day, without any instruction, of their own accord, holding their eyes fixed towards the sun-rising, fall into a long meditating contemplation: yet, because we see no such appearance in other beasts, may we rightly conclude, that they are altogether void of religion, and may not take that in payment, which is hidden from us. As we perceive something in that action, which the Philosopher Cleanthes well observed, because it somewhat draws near unto ours. He saw (as himself reporteth) a company of Emmets go from their nest, bearing amongst them the body of a dead Ant, toward another Emmets nest, from which many other Ants came, as it were to meet them by the way to parley with them, who after they had continued together a while, they which came last, returned back, to consult (as you may imagine) with their fellow-citizens, and because they could hardly come to any capitulation; they made two or three voyages to and fro: In the end, the last come, brought unto the other a worm from their habitation, as for a ransom of the dead, which worm the first company took upon their backs, and carried it home, leaving the dead body unto the other. Lo here the interpretation that Cleanthes gave it: Witnessing thereby, that those creatures which have no voice at all, have nevertheless mutual commerce, and interchangeable communication, whereof if we be not partakers, it is only our fault; and therefore do we fond to censure it. And they yet produce diverse other effects, far surpassing our capacity, and so far out of the reach of our imitation, that even our thoughts are unable to conceive them. Many hold opinion, that in the last and famous sea-fight, which Antony lost against Augustus, his Admirall-gally was in her course stayed by that little fish, the Latins call Remora, and the English a Sucke-stone, whose property is, to stay any ship he can fasten himself unto. And the Emperor Caligula, sailing with a great fleet along the coast of Romania, his own Galley was suddenly stayed by such a fish, which he caused to be taken sticking fast to the keel moodily raging, that so little a creature had the power to force both sea and wind, and the violence of all his oars, only with her bill sticking to his Galley (for it is a kind of shellfish) and was much more amazed when he perceived the fish, being brought aboard his ship, to have no longer that powerful virtue, which it had, being in the Sea. A certain Citizen of Cyzicum, whilom purchased unto himself the reputation to be an excellent mathematician, because he had learned the quality of the Hedgehog, whose property is to build his hole or den, open divers ways, and toward several winds, and foreseeing rising storms, he presently stoppeth the holes that way; which thing the foresaid Citizen heedfully observing, would in the City foretell any future storm, and what wind should blow. The Chameleon taketh the colour of the place wherein he is. The fish called a Pourcontrell, or Manie-feetes, changeth himself into what colour he lists, as occasion offereth itself; that so he may hide himself from what he feareth, and catch what he seeketh for. In the Chameleon it is a change proceeding of passion, but in the Pourcontrell a change in action; we ourselves do often change our colour, and altar our countenance, through sudden fear, choler, shame, and such like violent passions, which are wont to alter the hue of our faces: but it is by the effect of sufferance, as in the Chameleon. The jaundice hath power to make us yellow, but it is not in the disposition of our wills. The effects we perceive in other creatures, greater than ours, witness some more excellent faculty in them, which is concealed from us; as it is to be supposed, divers others of their conditions and forces are, whereof no appearance or knowledge cometh to us. Of all former predictions, the ancientest and most certain were such as were drawn from the flight of birds: we have nothing equal unto it, nor so admirable. The rule of fluttering, and order of shaking their wings, by which they conjecture the consequences of things to ensue, must necessarily be directed to so noble an operation by some excellent and supernatural mean: For, it is a wresting of the letter, to attribute so wondrous effects, to any natural decree, without the knowledge, consent, or discourse of him, that causeth and produceth them, and is a most false opinion: Which to prove, the Torpedo or Cramp-fish hath the property to benumb and astonish, not only the limbs of those that touch it, but also theirs, that with any long pole or fishing line touch any part thereof, she doth transmit and convey a kind of heavy numbing into the hands of those that stir or handle the same: Moreover, it is averred, that if any matter be cast upon them, the astonishment is sensibly felt to gain upward until it come to the hands, and even through the water it astonisheth the feeling-sence. Is not this a wonderful power? Yet is it not altogether unprofitable for the Cramp-fish, she both knows and makes use of it: for to catch prey she pursueth, she is seen to hide herself under the mud, that, other fishes swimming over her, strucken and benumbed with her exceeding coldness, may fall into her claws. The Cranes, Swallows, and other wandering birds, changing their abode, according to the seasons of the year, show evidently the knowledge they have of their fore divining faculty, and often put the same in use. Hunter's assure us, that to choose the best dog, and which they purpose to keep from our a litter of other young whelps, there is no better mean than the dam herself: for, if they be removed from out their kennel, him that she first brings th●ther again, shall always prove the best; or if one but encompass her kennel with fire, look which of her whelps she first seeketh to save, is undoubtedly the best: whereby it appeareth, they have a certain use of Prognosticating, that we have not; or else some hidden virtue, to judge of their young ones, different and more lively than ours. The manner of all beasts breeding, engendering, nourishing, working, moving, living and dying, being so near to ours, what ever we abridge from their moving causes, and add to our condition above theirs, can no way depart from our reason's discourse. For a regiment of our health, Phisitious propose the example of beasts manner of life and proceeding unto us: for this common saying is always in the people's mouth: Tenez chauds les pieds. & la teste, joub. ere. p●p. pur. 2. pag. 140 Au demeurant vivez en best. Keep warm ('tis meet) thy head and feet: In all the rest, live like a beast. Generation is the chiefest natural action: we have a certain disposition of some members, fittest for that purpose; nevertheless, they bid us range ourselves unto a brutish situation and disposition, as most effectual: — more ferarum, Lucr. l. 4. 1256 Quadrupedúmque magis ritu, plerúmque putantur Concipere uxores: quia sic loca sumere possunt, Pectoribus positis, sublatis semina lumbis. And reject those indiscreet and insolent motions, which women have so luxuriously found out, as hurtful: conforming them to the example and use of beasts of their sex, as more modest and considerate. Nam mulier prohibet se concipere, at que repugnat, Ibed. 1260. Clunib●s ipsa viri Venerem si laet a retractet, Atque exessat● ciet omni pectore fluctus, Eij●it enim sulci recta regione viáque Vomerem, atque locis avert it ●eminis ictum. If it be justice to give every one his due, beasts which serve, love, and defend their benefactors, pursue and outrage strangers, and such as offend them, by so doing they represent some show of our justice, as also in reserving a high kind of equality in dispensing of what they have to their yoong-ones. Touching friendship, without all comparison, they profess it more lively and show it more constantly, than men. Hircanus' a dog of Lysimachus the king, his master being dead, without eating or drinking would never come from off his bed, and when the dead corpses was removed thence, he followed it, and lastly flung himself into the fire, where his master was burned. As did also the dog of one called Pyrrhus, who after he was dead, would never budge from his master's couch, and when he was removed, suffered himself to be carried away with him, and at last flung himself into the fire wherein his master was consumed. There are certain inclinations of affection, which without counsel of reason arise sometimes in us, proceeding of a casual temerity, which some call Sympathy: beasts as well as men are capable of it. We see horses take a kind of acquaintance one of another, so that often, traveling by the highway, or feeding together, we have much ado to keep them asunder, we see them bend and apply their affections to some of their fellows colours, as if it were upon a certain visage; and when they meet with any such, with signs of joy, and demonstration of good will, to join and accost them, and to hate and shun some other forms and colours. Beasts, as well as we, have choice in their loves, and are very nice in choosing of their mates. They are not altogether void of our extreme and unappesable jealousies. Lustful desires are either natural, and necessary, as eating and drinking; or else natural and not necessary, as the acquaintance of males and females: or else neither necessary nor natural: Of this last kind are almost all men's: For, they are all superfluous and artificial. It is wonderful to see with how little, nature will be satisfied, and how little she hath left for us to be desired. The preparations in our Kitchens, do nothing at all concern her laws. The stoics say, that a man might very well sustain himself with one Olivea day. The delicacy of our wines, is no part of her lesson, no more is the surcharge and relishing, which we add unto our lecherous appetites. — neque illa Hor. ser. li 1. sar. 2 30. Magno prognatum deposcit consule cunnum. These strange lustful longings, which the ignorance of good, and a false opinion have possessed us with, are in number so infinite, that in a manner they expel all those which are natural: even as if there were so many strangers in a City, that should either banisn and expel all the natural inhabitants thereof, or utterly suppress their ancient power and authority, and absolutely usurping the same, take possession of it. Brute beasts are much more regulate than we; and with more moderation contain themselves within the compass, which nature hath prescribed them: yet not so exactly, but that they have some coherency with our riotous licentiousness. And even as there have been found certain furious longings and unnatural desires, which have provoked men unto the love of beasts, so have divers times some of them been drawn to love us, and are possessed with monstrous affections from one kind to another: witness the Elephant, that in the love of an hearb-wife, in the city of Alexandria, was corivall with Aristophanes, the Grammarian; who in all offices pertaining to an earnest wooer and passionate suitor, yielded nothing unto him: For, walking thorough the Fruite-market, he would here and there snatch up some with his trunk, and carry them unto her: as near as might be he would never lose the sight of her: and now and then over her band put his trunk into her bosom, and feel her breasts. They also report of a Dragon, that was exceedingly in love with a young maiden; and of a Goose in the City of Asope, which dearly loved a young child: also of a Ram that belonged to the physician Glausia. Do we not daily see Monkeys ragingly in love with women, and furiously to pursue them? And certain other beasts given to love the males of their own sex? Oppianus and others report some examples, to show the reverence and manifest the awe, some beasts in their marriages, bear unto their kindred: but experience makes us often see the contrary: —— nec habetur turpe iuvencae Orid. Metam. lib. 10. 325. Ferre patrem tergo: fit equo sua filia coniux: Quàsque creavit, init pecudes caper: ipsaque cuius Semine concepta est, ex illo concipit ales To bear her Sire the Heifer shameth not: The Horse takes his own Fillies maidenhead: The Goat gets them with young, whom he begot: Birds breed by them, by whom themselves were bred, Touching a subtle prank and witty trick, is there any so famous as that of Thales the Philosopher's Mule, which, laden with salt, passing through a River chanced to stumble, so that the sacks she carried were all wet, and perceiving the salt (because the water had melted it) to grow lighter, ceased not, assoon as she came near any water, together with her load to plunge herself therein, until her master, being aware of her craft, commanded her to be laden with wool, which being wet became heavier; the Mule finding herself deceived, used her former policy no more. There are many of them, that lively represent the visage of our avarice, who with a greedy kind of desire endeavour to surprise whatsoever comes within their reach, and though they reap no commodity, nor have any use of it, to hide the same very curiously. As for husbandry, they exceed us, not only in foresight to spare, and gather together for times to come, but have also many parts of the skill belonging there unto. As the Ants, when they perceive their corn to grow musty, and grain to be sour, for fear it should rot and putrify, spread the same abroad before their nests, that so it may air and dry. But the caution they use in gnawing, and prevention they employ in paring their grains of wheat, is beyond all imagination of man's wit: Because wheat doth not always keep dry nor wholesome, but moisten, melt and dissolve into a kind of whey, namely when it beginneth to bud, fearing it should turn to seed, and lose the nature of a storehouse, for their sustenance, they part and gnawe-off the end whereat it wonts to bud. As for war, which is the greatest and most glorious of all human actions, I would feign know, if we will use it for an argument of some prerogative, or otherwise for a testimony of our imbecility and imperfection, as in truth, the science we use to defeat and kill one another, to spoil and utterly to overthrow our own kind, it seemeth, it hath not much to make itself to be wished-for in beasts, that have it not. — quando leoni juven. sat. 1●. 160. Fortioreripuit vitam lo, quo nemore unquam Expiravit aper maioris dentibus apri? When hath a greater Lion damnifide A lion's life? in what wood ever died, A bore by tusks and gore, Of any greater boar? Yet are not they altogether exempted from it: witness the furious encounters of Bees, and the hostile enterprises of the Princes and Leaders of the two contrary Armies. — saepe duobus Virg. Georg. l. 4. 67. Regibus incessit magno discordia motu, Continuoque animos vulgi & trepidantia bello Corda licet longè praesciscere.— Oft-times twixt two no great Kings great dissension With much ado doth set them at contention; The vulgar minds straight may you see from far, And hearts that tremble at the thought of war. I neur mark this divine description, but me thinks I read human foolishness and worldly vanity painted in it. For, these motions of war, which out of their horror and astonishent breed this tempest of cries, and clang of sounds in us: Fulgur ubi ad caelumse tollit, totaque circum juer. l. 2. 326. Aere renidescit tellus, subterque virum vi Excitur pedibus sonitus, clamoreque montes Icti reiectant voces ad cider a mundi: Where lightning raiseth itself to the skies, The earth shines round with armour, sounds do rise By men's force under fear, wounded with noise The hills to heaven reverberate their voice. This horror-causing array of so many thousands of armed men, so great fury, earnest fervour, and undaunted courage, it would make one laugh to see by how many vain occasions it is raised and set on fire, and by what light means it is again suppressed and extinct. — Paridis propter narratur amorem Hor. l. 1. epi. 2. ●. Grae●ta Barbariediro collisa duello. For Paris lustful love (as Stories tell) All Greece to direful war with Asia fell: The hatred of one man, a spite, a pleasure, a familiar suspect, or a jealousy; causes, which ought not to move two scolding fishwives to scratch one another, is the soul and motive of all this hurly burly. Shall we believe them that are the principal authors and causes thereof? Let us but hearken unto the greatest and most victitorious Emperor, and the mightiest that ever was, how pleasantly he laughs, and wittily he plays, at so many battles and bloody fights, hazarded both by sea and land, at the blood and lives of five hundred thousand souls which followed his fortune, and the strength and riches of two parts of the world consumed and drawn dry for the service of his enterprise: Quòd futuit Glaphyran Antonius, hanc mihi poenam Mart. l. 11. epig. 21. Fulvia constituit, se quoqe utifutuam: Fulviam ego utfutuam? quid si me Manius oret Paedicem, faciam? non puto, si sapiam. Aut futue, aut pugnemu●ait: quid si mihivita Charior est ipsa mentula? Signa canant. (I use my Latin somewhat boldly, but it is with that leave which yond have given me,) This vast huge body hath so many faces and several motion, which seem to threat both heaven and earth. Quám multi Lybico volvuntur marmore fluctus Virg Ae●. l. 7. 717. Saevus ubi Orion hyberu●s conditur undis: Velcùm sole novo densae torrentur arist●, Aùt Hermi campo, aut Lyciae flaventibus arvis, Scuta sonant, pulsuque pedum tremit excita tellus. As many waves, as roll in Afric marble-soundes, When fierce Oryon hides in Winter waves his head: Or when thicke-eares of Corn are parched by Sun new-spredde. In Hermus' fruitful fields, or Lycaees yellow grounds, With noise of shields and feet, the trembling earth so sounds. This many-headed, divers-armed, and furiously-raging-monster, is man; wretched weak and miserable man: whom if you consider well, what is he, but a crawling, and ever-moving Antes-neast● It nigrum campis agmen:— Virg. Aen. l. 4. 404. The sable-coloured band, Marches along the Land. A gust of contrary winds, the croaking of a flight of Ravens, the false pace of a Horse, the casual flight of an Eagle, a dream, a sudden voice, a false sign, a morning's mist, an evening fog, are enough to overthrow, sufficient to overwhelm and able to pull him to the ground. Let the Sun but shine hot upon his face, he faints and swelters with heat: Cast but a little dust in his eyes, as to the Bees mentioned by our Poet, all our ensigns, all our legions, yea great Pompey himself in the forefront of them is overthrown and put to rout (For as I remember it was he whom Sertorius vanquished in Spain, with all those goodly arms.) This also served Eumenes against Antigonus, and Surena against Crassus: Hi motus animorum, atque haec certamina tanta, Virg. Georg. li. 4 36. Pulveris exigui tactu compressaquiescent. These stomake-motions, these contentions great, Claimed with a little dust, straight lose their heat, Letus but uncouple some of our ordinary flies, and let lose a few gnats amongst them, they shall have both the force to scatter, and courage to consume him. The Portugall's not long since beleagring the City of Tamly, in the territory of Xiatine, the inhabitants thereof, brought great store of Hives,) whereof they have plenty) upon their walls: And with fire drove them so forcible upon their enemies, who as unable to abide their assaults, and endure their stingings, left their enterprise. Thus by this new kind of help was the liberty of the Town gained, and victory purchased; with so happy success, that in their retreating, there was not one townsman found wanting. The souls of Emperors and Cobblers are all cast in one same mould. Considering the importance of Prince's actions, and their weight, we persuade ourselves, they are brought forth by some as weighty and important causes; we are deceived: They are moved, stirred and removed in their motions, by the same springs and wards, that we are in ours. The same reason that makes us chide and brawl, and fall out with any of our neighbours, causeth a war to follow between Princes; The same reason that makes us whip or beat a lackey, maketh a Prince (if he apprehend it) to spoil and waste a whole Province. They have as easy a will as we, but they can do much more. Alike desires perturb both a skinne-worme, and an Elephant. thouch trust and faithfulness there is no creature in the world so treacherous as man. Our histories report the earnest pursuit and sharp chase, that some Dogs have made for the death of their masters. King Pyrrhus finding a Dog, that watched a dead man, and understanding he had done so three days and nights together, commanded the corpse to be interred, and took the Dog along with him. It fortuned one day (as Pyrrhus was survaying the General Musters of his Army) the Dog perceiving in that multitude, the man who had murdered his master, loud-barking, and with great rage ran furiously upon him; by which signs he furthered and procured his masters revenge, which by way of justice, was shortly executed. Even so did the Dog belonging to Hesiodus, surnamed the wise, having convicted the children of Canister of Naupactus, of the murder committed on his Master's person. Another Dog being appointed to watch a Temple in Athens, having perceived a sacrelegious thief, to carry away the fairest jewels therein, barked at him so long as he was able, and seeing he could not awaken the Sextons or Temple-keepers, followed the thief, whither-soever he went; daie-light being come, he kept himself a loof-off, but never lost the sight of him: if he offered him meat, he utterly refused it; but if any passenger chanced to come by, on them he fawned, with waging his tail, and took whatever they offered him; If the thief stayed to rest himself, he also stayed in the same place: The news of this Dog being come to the Temple-keepers, they as they went along, inquiring of the Dog's hair and colour, pursued his track so long, that at last they found both the Dog and the thief in the City of Cromyon, whom they brought back to Athens, where for his offence he was severely punished. And the judges in acknowledgement of the Dogs good office, at the Cities charge appointed him for his sustenance a certain daily measure of Corn, and enjoined the Priests of the Temple, carefully to look unto him. Plutarch affirmeth this story to be most true, and to have happened in his time. Touching gratitude and thankfulness, (for me thinks we have need to further this word greatly) this only example shall suffice, of which Appion reporteth to have been aspectator himself. One day (saith he) that the Senate of Rome, (to please and recreate the common people) caused a great number of wild beasts to be baited, namely huge great Lions, it so fortuned, that there was one amongst the rest, who by reason of his furious and stately carriage, of his unmatched strength, of his great limbs, and of his loud, and terror-causing roaring, drew all bystanders eyes to gaze upon him. Amongst other slaves, that in sight of all the people were presented to encounter with these beasts, there chanced to be one Androdus of Dacia, who belonged unto a Roman Lord, who had been Consul. This huge Lion, having eyed him a far off, first made a sudden stop, as strucken into a kind of admiration, then with a mild and gentle countenance, as if he would willingly have taken acquaintance of him, fair and softly approached unto him: Which done, and resting, assured he was the man he took him for, begun fawningly to wag his tail, as dogs do that fawn upon their newsound masters, and lick the poor and miserable slaves hands and thighs, who through fear was almost out of his wits and half dead. Androdus at last taking hart of grace; and by reason of the Lion's mildness having roused up his spirits, and wishly fixing his eyes upon him, to see whether he could call him to remembrance; it was to all beholders a singular pleasure to observe the love, the joy, and blandishments, each endeavoured to enter-shew one another. Whereat the people raising a loud cry, and by their shouting and clapping of hands seeming to be much pleased; the Emperor willed the slave to be brought before him, as desirous to understand of him the cause of so strange and seld-seen an accident: Who related this new, and wonderful story unto him. My master (said he) being Proconsul in Africa, forsomuch as he caused me every day to be most cruelly beaten, and held me in so rigorous bondage, I was constrained, as being weary of my life, to run away: And safely to scape from so eminent a person, and who had so great authority in the Country, I thought it best to get me into the desert, and most unfrequented wildernesses of that region, with a full resolution, if I could not compass the means to sustain myself, to find one way or other, with violence to make myself away. One day, the Sun about noontide being extremely hot, and the scorching heat thereof intolerable, I fortuned to come unto a wild unhanted cave, hidden amongst crags, and almost inaccessible, and where I imagined no footing had ever been; therein I hid myself: I had not long been there, but in comes this Lion, with one of his paws sore hurt, and bloody-goared, wailing for the smart, and groaning for the pain he felt; at whose arrival, I was much dismayed, but he seeing me lie close-cowring in a corner of his den, gently made his approaches unto me, holding forth his gored paw toward me, and seemed with showing the same humbly to sue, and suppliantly to beg for help at my hands. ay, moved with ruth, taking it into my hand, pulled out a great splint, which was gotten into-it, and shaking-off all fear, first I wrung and crushed his sore, and caused the filth and matter, which therein was gathered, to come forth; then, as gently as for my hart I could, I cleansed, wiped, and dried the same. He feeling some ease in his grief, and his pain to cease, still holding his foot between my hands, began to sleep and take some rest. Thence forward he and I lived together, the full space of three years in his den, with such meat as he shifted-for: For, what beasts he killed, or what prey soever he took, he ever brought home the better part, and shared-it with me, which for want of fire, I roasted in the Sun, and therewith nourished myself all that while. But at last wearied with this kind of brutish life, the Lion being one day gone to purchase his wont prey, I left the place, hoping to mend my fortunes, and having wandered up and down three days, I was at last taken by certain Soldiers, which from Africa brought me into this City to my Master again, who immediately condemned me to death, and to be devoured by wild beasts. And as I now perceive, the same Lion was also shortly after taken, who as you see hath now required me of the good turn I did him, and the health which by my means he recoved. Behold here the history, Androdus reported unto the Emperor, which after he caused to be declared unto all the people, at whose general request, he was forthwith set at liberty, and quit of his punishment, and by the common consent of all, had the Lion bestowed upon him. Appion saith further, that Androdus was daily seen to lead the Lion up and down the streets of Rome, tied only with a little twine, and walking from tavern to tavern, received such money as was given him, who would gently suffer himself to be handled, touched, decked, and strewed with flowers, all over and over, many saying when they met him: yonder is the Lion that is the man's host, and yonder is the man that is the Lion's Physician. We often mourn and weep, for the loss of those beasts we love, so do they many times for the loss of us. Post bellator equus positis insignibus Aethon. Virg. Aen. li. 11. 89. It lacrimans, guttisque humectat grandibus ora. Next Aethon horse of war, all ornaments laid down, Goes weeping, with great drops bedewe's his cheeks a down. As some of our nations have wives in common, and some in several, each man keeping himself to his own; so have some beasts; yet some there are, that observe their marriages, with as great respect as we do ours. Touching the mutual society, and reciprocal confederation, which they devise amongst themselves, that so they may be fast combined together, and in times of need help one another, it is apparent, that if Oxen, Hogs, and other beasts being hurt by us, chance to cry, all the heard runs to aid him, and in his defence will join all together. The fish, called of the Latins Scarus, having swallowed the fisher's hook, his fellows will presently flock about him, and nibble the line in sunder; and if any of them happen to be taken in a bownet, some of his fellows turning his head away, will put his tail in at the neck of the net, who with his teeth fast-holding the same, never leave him, until they have pulled him out. The Barble fishes, if one of them chance to be engaged, will set the line against their backs, and with a fin they have, toothed like a sharp saw, presently saw and fret the same asunder. Concerning particular offices, which we for the benefit of our life, draw one from an other, many like examples are found amongst them. It is assuredly believed, that the Whale never swimmeth, unless she have a little fish going before her, as her vanguard, it is in shape like a Gudgeon, and both the Latins and we, call it the Whales-guide; for, she doth ever follow him, suffering herself, as easily to be led and turned by him, as a ship is directed and turned by a stern: for requital of which good turn, whereas all things else, be it, beast, fish, or vessel, that comes within the horrible Chaes of this monstrous mouth, is presently lost and devoured, this little fish, doth safely retire himself therein, and there sleeps very quietly, and as long as he sleeps, the Whale never stirs; but assoon as he awaketh and goeth his way, wherever he takes his course she always followeth him, and if she fortune to lose him, she wanders here and there, and often striketh upon the rocks, as a ship that hath nor mast nor rudder. This, Plutarch witnesseth to have seen in the Island of Anticyra. There is such a like society between the little bird called a Wren, and the crocodile: For, the Wren serveth as a sentinel to so great a monster: And if the Ichneumon, which is his mortal enemy approach to fight with him, the little bird let, lest he might surprise him whilst he sleepeth, with his singing, and pecking him with his bill, awakens him, and gives him warning of the danger he is in. The bird liveth by the scraps, and feedeth upon the leave of that monster, who gently receiveth him into his mouth, and suffers him to peck his jaws and teeth for such mammocks of flesh as stick between them: and if he purpose to close his mouth, he doth first warn him to be gone, fair and easy closing it by little and little, without any whit crushing or hurting him. The shellfish called a Nacre, liveth even so with the Pinnotere, which is a little creature like unto a Crabfish, and as his porter or usher waits upon him, attending the opening of the Nacre, which he continually keeps gaping, until he see some little fish enter in, fit for their turn, than he creeps into the Nacre, and leaves not pinching his quick flesh, until he makes him close his shell, and so they both together fast in their hold, devour their prey. In the manner of the Tunnies life, may be discovered a singular knowledge of the three parts of the Mathematics. First for Astrology, it may well be said that man doth learn it of them: For, wheresoever the winter Solstitium doth take them, there do they stay themselves, and never stir till the next Aequinoctium, and that is the reason why Aristotle doth so willingly ascribe that art unto them: Then for Geometry and Arithmetic, they always frame their shoal of a Cubike figure, every way square: and so form a solid, close and wel-ranged battailon, encompassed round about of six equal sides. Thus orderly marshaled, they take their course and swim whither their journey tends, as broad and wide behind as before: So that he that seeth and telleth but one rank, may easily number all the troup, forsomuch as the number of the depth is equal unto the breadth, and the breadth unto the length. Touching magnanimity and haughty courage, it is hard to set it forth more lively, and to produce a rarer pattern, then that of the Dog, which from India was sent unto Alexander: to whom was first presented a Stag, than a wild Boar, and then a Bear, with each of which he should have fought, but he seemed to make no account of them, and would not so much as remove out of his place for them, but when he saw a Lion, he presently roused himself, showing evidently he meant only so noble a beast worthy to enter combat with him. Concerning repentance and acknowledging of faults committed, it is reported, that an Elephant having through rage of choler slain his governor, conceived such an extreme inward grief, that he would never afterward touch any food, and suffered himself to pine to death. Touching clemency, it is reported of a Tiger, (the fiercest and most inhuman beast of all) who having a Kid given her to feed upon, endured the force of gnawing hunger, two days together, rather than she would hurt him; the third day with main strength she broke the cage, wherein she was kept-pent, and went elsewhere to shift for feeding; as one unwilling to seize upon the seely Kid her familiar and guest. And concerning privileges of familiarity and sympathy caused by conversation, is it not oft seen, how some make Cats, Dogs, and Hares so tame, so gentle, and so mild, that without harming one another they shall live and continue together? But that which experience teacheth seafaring men, especially those that come into the seas of S●●ilie, of the quality and condition of the Halcyon bird, or as some call it Alcedo or kings-fisher, exceeds all men's conceit. In what kind of creature did ever nature so much prefer both their hatching, sitting, brooding, and birth? Poets feign, that the Island of Delos, being before wandering and fleeting up and down, was for the delivery of Latona made firm and settled. But God's decree hath been, that all the watery wilderness should be quiet and made calm, without rain, wind, or tempest, during the time the Halcyon sitteth and bringeth forth her yoong-ones, which is much about the Winter Solstitium, and shortest day in the year: By whose privilege even in the hart & deadest time of Winter we have seven calm days, and as many nights to sail without any danger. Their Hens know no other Cock but their own: They never forsake him all the days of their life; and if the Cock chance to be weak and crazed, the Hen will take him upon her neck, and carry him with her, wheresoever she goeth, and serve him even until death. Man's wit could never yet attain to the full knowledge of that admirable kind of building or structure, which the halcyon useth in contriving of her nest, no, nor devise what it is-of. Plutarch, who hath seen and handled many of them, thinks it to be made of certain fish-bones, which she so compacts, and conjoineth together, enterlasing some long, and some crosseways, adding some foldings and roundings to it, that in the end she frameth a round kind of vessel, ready to float and swim upon the water: which done, she carrieth the same where the Sea-waves beat most; there the Sea gently beating upon it, snewes her how to daub and patch up the parts not well closed, and how to strengthen those places, and fashion those ribs, that are not fast, but stir with the Sea-waves: And on the other side, that which is closely wrought, the Sea beating on it, doth so fasten and conjoin together, that nothing, no, not stone or iron, can any way loosen, divide, or break the same, except with great violence; and what is most to be wondered at, is the proportion and figure of the concavity within; for, it is so composed and proportioned, that it can receive or admit no manner of thing, but the Bird that built-it; for, to all things else, it is so impenetrable, close and hard, that nothing can possibly enter in: no, not so much as the Sea-water. Loe-heer a most plain description of this building, or construction taken from a very good Author: yet me thinks, it doth not fully and sufficiently resolve us of the difficulty in this kind of Architecture. Now from what vanity can it proceed, we should so wilfully contemn, and disdaeinfully interpret those effects, which we can neither imitate nor conceive? But to follow this equality or correspondency between us and beasts somewhat further; the privilege whereof our soul vaunts to bring to her condition whatsoever it conceiveth, and to despoil what of mortal and corporal qualities belongs unto it, to marshal those things, which she deemed worthy her acquaintance, to disrobe and deprive their corruptible conditions, and to make them leave as superfluous and base garments, thickness, length, depth, weight, colour, smell, roughness, smoothness, hardness, softness, and all sensible accidents else, to fit and appropriate them to her immortal and spiritual condition: so that Rome and Paris, which I have in my soul; Paris which I imagine; yea, I imagine and conceive the same without greatness and place, without stone and mortar, and without wood: Then say I unto myself, the same privilege seemeth likewise to be in beasts: for, a Horse accustomed to hear the sound of trumpets, the noise of shot, and the clattering of arms, whom we see to snort, to startle, and to neigh in his sleep, as he lies a long upon his litter, even as he were in the hurly burly; it is most certain, that in his mind he apprehends the sound of a Drum without any noise, and an army without arms or body. Quip videbis equos fortes, cum membra iacebunt Luer. li. 4. 982. In somnis, sudare tamen, spiraréque saepe, Et quasi de palma summas contendere vires. You shall see warlike Horses, when in sleep Their limbs lie, yet sweat, and a snorting keep, And stretch their utmost strength, As for a goal at length. That Hare, which a greyhound imagineth in his dream, after whom as he sleepeth we see him bay, quest, yelp, and snort, stretch out his tail, shake his legs, and perfectly represent the motions of his course; the same is a Hare without bones, without hair. Venantúmque canes in molli sepae quiet. Ibid. 986. jactant crura tamen subitè, vocèsque repent Mittunt, & crebras redducunt naribus auras, Vt vestigia si teneant inventa ferarum: Expergefactique, sequuntur inania sepae Cervorum simulacra, fugae quasi dedita cernant: Donee discussis redeant erroribus ad se. Oft times the hunter's dogs in easy rest Stir their legs, suddenly, open, and quest, And send from nostrils thicke-thicke snuffing sent, As if on trail they were of game full-bent: And wakened so, they follow shadows vain Of Deer in chase, as if they fled amain: Till, their fault left, they turn to sense again. Those watching-Dogs, which in their sleep we sometimes see to grumble, and then barking to startle suddenly out of their slumber, as if they perceived some stranger to arrive: that stranger which their mind seemeth to see, is but an imaginary man, and not perceived; without any dimension, colour, or being: — Consueta domi catulorum blanda propago Ibid. 993. Degere, saepe levem ex oculis volucrémque soporem Discutere, & corpus de terra corripere instant, Proinde quasi ignotas facies atque ora tuantur. The fawning kind of whelps, at home that lives, From eyes to shake light-swift sleep often striv's, And from the ground their starting bodies hie, As if some unknown stranger they did spy. Touching corporal beauty, before I go any further, it were necessary I knew whether we are yet agreed about her description. It is very likely that we know not well, what beauty either in nature, or in general, since we give so many, and attribute so diverse forms to human beauty, yea, and to our beauty: Of which if there were any natural or lively description, we should generally know it, as we do the heat of fire. We imagine and feign her forms, as our fantasies lead us. Proper li. 2. el. 18. 26. Turpis roman Belgieus ore colour. A Dutch-froes colour hath no grace, Seen in a Roman Lady's face. The Indians describe it black and swarthy, with blabberd-thicke lips, with a broad and flat nose, the inward gristle whereof they load with great gold-rings, hanging down to their mouth, and their neither lips with great circlets beset with precious stones, which cover all their chins, deeming it an especial grace to show their teeth to the roots. In Peru, the greatest ears are ever esteemed the fairest, which with all art and industry, they are continually stretching out; and a man (who yet liveth) sweareth to have seen in a province of the East-indias' the people so careful to make them great, and so to load them with heavy jewels, that at ease he could have thrust his arm through one of their eare-holes. There are other Nations, who endeavour to make their teeth as black as jet, and scorn to have them white; and in other places they die them red. Not only in the province of Baske, but in other places, women are accounted fairest when their heads are shaved; and which is strange, in some of the Northerly frozen-countries, as Pliny affirmeth. Those of Mexico, esteem the littleness of their foreheads, as one of the chiefest beauties, and whereas they shave their hair over all their body beside, by artificial means they labour to nourish and make it grow only in their foreheads; and so love to have great dugs, that they strive to have their children suck over their shoulders. So would we set forth ilfavordnesse. The Italians proportion-it big and plum; The Spaniards spiny and lank, and amongst us one would have her white, another brown, one soft and delicate, another strong and lusty: some desire wantonnessè and blitheness, and other some sturdiness and majesty to be joined with it. Even as the pre-eminence in beauty, which Plato ascribeth unto the Spherical figure, the Epicurians refer the same unto the Pyramidal or Square; and say they cannot swallow a God made round like a bowl. But howsoever it is, nature hath no more privileged us in that, then in other things, concerning her common laws. And if we imparcially enter into judgement with ourselves, we shall find, that if there be any creature or beast less favoured in that, than we, there are others (and that in great numbers) to whom nature hath been more favourable then to us. A multis animalibus decore vincimur. We are excelled in comel●nesse, by many living creatures: Yea, of terrestrial creatures, that live with us. For, concerning those of the Sea, omitting their figure, which no proportion can contain, so much doth it differ, both in colour, in neatness, in smoothness, and in disposition, we must give place unto them: which in all qualities we must likewise do to the airy ones. And that prerogative, which Poets yield unto our upright stature, looking towards heaven whence her beginning is, Pronáque cum spectent animalia caetera terram, ovid. Metam. lib. 1. 84. Os homini sublime dedit, caelúmque videre jussit, & erectos ad sydera tollere vultus. Where other creatures on earth look and lie, A lofty look God gave man, bade him pry On heaven, raised his high countenance to the sky. is merely poetical, for, there are many little beasts, that have their sight directly fixed towards heaven: I find the Camels and the Ostriches neck much more raised and upright, then ours. What beasts have not their face a fit and before, and look not directly opposite, as we; and in their natural posture descry not as much of heaven and earth, as man doth? And what qualities of our corporal constitution, both in Plato and Cicero cannot fit and serve a thousand beasts? Such as most resemble man are the vilest and filthiest of all the rout: As for outward appearance and true shape of the visage, it is the Monkey or Ape: Cic. Nat. deo. lib. 1. Enmi. Simia quam similis, turpissima bestia, nobis! An Ape, a most ill-favoured beast, How like to us in all the rest? as for inward and vital parts, it is the Hog. Truly, when I consider man all naked (yea, be it in that sex, which seemeth to have and challenge the greatest share of eye-pleasing beauty, and view his defects, his natural subjection, and manifold imperfections; I find we have had much more reason to hide and cover our nakedness, than any creature else. We may be excused for borrowing those which nature had therein favoured more than us, with their beauties to adorn us, and under their spoils of wool, of hair, of feathers, and ofsilke to shroud us. Let us moreover observe, that man is the only creature, whose wants offends his own follows, and he alone that in natural actions must withdraw and sequester himself from those of his own kind. Verily it is an effect worthy consideration, that the skilfullest masters of amorous dalliances appoint for a remedy of venerean passions, a free and full survey of the body, which one longeth and seeks-after: and that to cool the longing and assuage the heat of friendship, one need but perfectly view and thoroughly consider what he loveth. Ille quòd obscoenas in aperto corpore parts O●id. rem. Am. lib. 2. 33. — Viderat, in cursu qui fuit, haesit amor. The love stood still, that ran in full carieere, When bare it saw parts that should not appear And although this remedy may happily proceed from a squeamish and cold humour: yet is it a wonderful sign of our imbecility, that the use and knowledge should so make us to be cloyed one of an other. It is not bashfulness so much, as art and foresight makes our Ladies so circumspect and unwilling to let us come into their closerts before they are fully ready, and thoroughly painted, to come abroad, and show themselves: Nec veneres nostras hoc fallit quò magis ipse Luer. l. 4. 1176. Omnia summopere hos vitae postscenia celant, Quos retinere volunt adstrictóque esse in amore. Our Mistresses know this, which makes them not disclose Parts to be played within, especially from those Whom they would servants hold, and in their love-bands close. Whereas in other creatures, there is nothing but we love, and pleaseth our senses: so that even from their excrements and ordure, we draw not only dainties to eat, but our richest ornaments and perfumes. This discourse of beauty toucheth only our common order, and is not so sacrilegious as it intendeth or dareth to comprehend those divine, supernatural, and extraordinary beauties, which sometimes are seen to shine amongstus, even as stars under a corporal and terrestrial vail. Moreover, that part of nature's favours, which we impart unto beasts, is by our own confession much more advantageous unto them. We assume unto ourselves imaginary and fantastical goods, future and absent goods, which human capacity can no way warrant unto herself; or some other, which by the overweening of our own opinion, we falsely ascribe unto ourselves; as reason, honour, and knowledge; and to them as their proper share we leave the essential, the maneagable, and palpable goods, as peace, rest, security, innocency, and health: Health I say, which is the goodliest and richest present, nature can impart unto us. So that even Stoic Philosophy dareth to affirm, that if Heracletus and Pherecydes could have changed their wisdom with health, and by that means, the one to have rid himself of the dropsy, and the other of the lowsieevill, which so sore tormented them, they would surely have done-it: whereby they also yield so much more honour unto wisdom, by comparing and counterpeizing the same unto health, than they do in this other proposition of theirs, where they say, that if Circe's had presented Vhsses with two kinds of drink, the one to turn a wiseman into a fool, the other to change a fool into a wiseman, he would rather have accepted that of folly, then have been pleased, that Circe's should transform his human shape into a beasts. And they say, that wisdom herself would thus have spoken unto him: Meddle not with me, but leave me rather than thou shouldest place me under the shape and body of an Ass. What? This great and heavenly wisdom? Are Philosophers contented then, to quit-it for a corporal & earthly vail? Why then it is not for reason's sake, nor by discourse, and for the soul, we so much excel beasts: it is for the love we bear unto our beauty, unto our fair hue, and goodly disposition of limbs, that we reject, and set our understanding at nought, our wisdom, and what else we have. Well, I allow of this ingenious and voluntary confession: surely they knew those parts, we so much labour to pamper, to be mere fantasies. Suppose, beasts had all the virtue, the knowledge, the wisdom and sufficiency of the stoics, they should still be beasts; nor might they ever be compared unto a miserable, wretched, and senseless man. For, when all is done, whatsoever is not as we are, is not of any worth. And God to be esteemed of us, must (as we will show anon) draw somewhat neereit. Whereby it appeareth, that it is not long of a true discourse, but of a foolish-hardinesse, and self-presuming obstinacy, we prefer ourselves before other creatures, and sequester ourselves from their condition and society. But to return to our purpose, we have for our part inconstancy, irresolution, uncertainty, sorrow, superstition, carefulness for future things (yea after our life) ambition, covetousness, jealousy, envy, inordiante, mad and untamed appetites, war, falsehood, disloyalty, detraction, and curiosity. Surely we have strangely overpaid this worthy discourse, whereof we so much glory, and this readiness to judge, or capacity to know, if we have purchased the same with the price of so infinite passions, to which we are uncessantly enthralled. If we be not pleased (as Socrates is) to make this noble prerogative over beasts, to be of force, that whereas nature hath prescribed them certain seasons, and bounds for their natural lust and voluptuousness, she hath given-us at all hours and occasions the full reins of them. Vt vinum Cic. Nat. d●●●. lib. 3. egrotis, quia prodest rarò, nocet saepissime, melius est non adhibere omnino, quam, ●pe dubiaesalutis in apertam perniciem incurrere: Sic, haud scio, an melius fuerit humano generi motum istum celerem, cogitationis a●umen, solertiam, quem rationem vocamus, quoniam pestifera sint multis, admodum paucis salutaria, non dari omnino, quám tam munificè & tam largè dari. As it is better not to use wine at all in sick persons, because it seldom doth them good, but many times much hurt, then in hope of doubtful health, to run into undoubted danger; so do I not know, whether it were better that this swift motion of the thought, this sharpness, this conceitedness, which we call reason, should not at all be given to mankind (because it is pernicious unto many, and healthful to very few) than that it should be given so plentifully and so largely. What good or commodity may we imagine this far-understanding of so many things brought ever unto Varro, and to Aristotle? Did it ever exempt, or could it at any time free them from human inconveniences? Were they ever discharged of those accidents that incidently follow a seely labouring man? Could they ever draw any ease for the gout from Logic? And howbeit they knew the humour engendering the same to lodge in the joints, have they felt-it the less? Did they at any time make a covenant with death, although they knew full well that some nations rejoice at her coming? as also of Cuckoldship, because they knew women to be common in some Countries? But chose having both held the first rank in knowledge, the one amongst the Romans, the other among the Grecians, yea, and at such times wherein sciences flourished most, we could never learn, they had any special excellency in their life. We see the Grecian hath been put to his plunges in seeking to discharge himself from some notable imputations in his life. Was it ever found that sensuality, and health, are more pleasing unto him that understands Astrology and Grammar? (●lliterati num minus nervi rigent? Hor. apod. 8. 17. As stiff unlearned sinews stand, As theirs that much more understand.) or shame and poverty less importunate and vexing? Scilicet & morbis, & debilitate carebis, Iu●em. sat. 14. 156. Et luctum, & curam effugies, & tempora vita Longatibi posthaec fatomeliore dabuntur. Thou shall be from disease and weakness free, From moan, from care, long time of life to thee Shall by more friendly fate afforded be. I have in my days seen a hundred Artificers, and as many labourers, more wise and more happy, than some Rectors in the University, and whom I would rather resemble. Me thinks Learning hath a place amongst things necessary for man's life, as glory, nobleness, dignity, or at most as riches, and such other qualities, which indeed stead the same; but a far-off, and more in conceit, than by Nature. We have not much more need of offices, of rules, and laws how to live in our commonwealth, than the Cranes and Ants have in theirs. Which notwithstanding, we see how orderly, and without instruction they maintain themselves. If man were wise he would value every thing according to its worth, and as it is either more profitable, or more necessary for life. He that shall number us by our actions and proceedings, shall doubt. less find many more excellent-ones amongst the ignorant, then among the wiser sort: I mean in all kind of Virtues. My opinion is, that ancient Rome brought forth many men of much more valour and sufficiency, both for peace and war, than this late learned Rome, which with all her wisdom hath overthrown her erst-flourishing estate. If all the rest were alike, then should honesty and innocency at least belong to the ancient; for she was exceedingly well placed with simplicity. But I will shorten this discourse, which happily would draw me further than I would willingly follow: yet this much I will say more, that only humility and submission is able to make a perfect honest man. Every one must not have the knowledge of his duty referred to his own judgement, but ought rather to have it prescribed unto him, and not be allowed to choose it at his pleasure and freewill: otherwise according to the imbecility of our reasons, and infinite variety of our opinions, we might peradventure forge and devise such duties unto ourselves, as would induce us (as Epicurus saith) to endeavour to destroy and devour one another. The first law that ever God gave unto man, was a Law of pure obedience. It was a bare & simple commandment, whereof man should inquire and know no further: forasmuch, as to obey is the proper duty of a reasonable soul, acknowledging a heavenly and superior benefactor. From obeying and yielding unto him proceed all other virtues; even as all sins derive from selfe-over-weening. chose, the first temptation that ever seized on human Nature was disobedience, by the devils instigation, whose first poison, so far insinuated itself into us, by reason of the promises he made us of wisdom and knowledge, Eritis sicut Dij scientes bonum & malum. You shall be like Gods, knowing both good and evil. And Genesis. ca 3. 5. the Sirens, to deceive Ulysses and alluring him to fall into their dangerous & confounding snares, offer to give him the full fruition of Knowledge. The opinion of Wisdom is the plague of man. That is the occasion why ignorance is by our Religion recommended unto us, as an instrument fitting belief, and obedience. Cavete, ne quis vos decipiat per Philosophiam & inanes coloss. ca 2. 8. seductiones, secundum elementa mundi. Take heed, lest any man deceive you by Philosophy and vain seducements, according to the rudiments of the world. All the Philosophers of all the sects that everwere, do generally agree in this point, that the chiefest felicity, or summum bonum, consisteth in the peace and tranquility of the soul and body: but where shall we finde-it? Ad summum sapiens uno minor est love, dives, Her. li. 1. epist. 1. Antepen. Liber, honoratus, pulcher, Rex denique Regum: Praecipuè sanus, nisi cum pituita molesta est. In sum, who wise is known, Is less than jove alone, Rich, honourable, free, fair, King of Kings, Chiefly in health, but when phlegm trouble brings. It seemeth verily, that Nature for the comfort of our miserable and wretched condition, hath allotted us no other portion, but presumption. It is therefore (as Epictetus saith) that man hath nothing that is properly his own, but the use of his opinions. Our hereditary portion is nothing but smoke and wind. The Gods (as saith Philosophy) have health in true essence, and sickness in conceit. Man clean contrary, possesseth goods in imagination, and evils essentially. We have had reason to make the powers of our imagination to be of force: For, all our felicities are but in conceit, and as it were in a dream. Hear but this poor and miserable creature vaunt himself. There is nothing (saith Cicero) so delightful and pleasant as the knowledge of Letters; of Letters I say, by whose means the infinity of things, the incomprehensible greatness of nature, the heavens, the earth, and all the Seas of this vast universe, are made known unto us. They have taught us Religion, moderation, stoutness of courage, and redeemed our soul out of darkness, to make her see, and distinguish of all things, the high aswell as the low, the first as the last, and those between both. It is they that store and supply us with all such things as may make us live happily and well, and instruct us how to pass our time without sorrow or offence. Seemeth not this goodly Orator to speak of the Almighty's and everliving God's condition? And touching effects, a thousand poor seely women in a country town have lived, and live a life much more reposed, more peaceable, and more constant, then ever he did. — Deus ille fuit Deus, inclyte Memmi, Qui princeps vitae rationem invenit eam, qua Nunc appellatur sapientia, quique per artem, Fluctibus è tantis vitam tantisque tenebris, In tam tranquillo & tam clara luce locavit. Good sir, it was God, God it was, first found, That course of man's life, which now is renowned By name of wisdom; who by art reposed, Our life in so clear light, calm so composed, From so great darkness, so great waves opposed. Observe what glorious and noble words these be: yet but a sleight accident brought this wiseman's understanding to a far worse condition, than that of a simple shepherd: notwithstanding this divine Teacher, and this heavenly wisdom. Of like impudence is the promise of Democritus his Book. I will now speak of all things: And that fond title which Aristotle gives us of mortal gods, and that rash judgement of Chrysippus, that Dion was as virtuous as God: And my Seneca saith, he acknowledgeth that God hath given him life, but how to live well, that he hath of himself. Like unto this other: In virtute verè gloramur, Cic. N●t. de. lib. 3. quod non contingeret, si ià donum à Deo, non à nobis haberemus. We rightly vaunt us of virtue, which we should not do, if we had it of God, not of ourselves. This also is Senec●es, that the wise man hath a fortitude like unto Gods; but inhuman weakness, wherein he excelleth him. There is nothing more common, than to meet with such passages of temerity: There is not any of us that will be so much offended to see himself compared to God, as he will deem himself wronged to be depressed in the rank of other creatures. So much are we more jealous of our own interest, than of our Creators. But we must tread this foolish vanity under foot, and boldly shake off, and lively reject those fond-ridiculous foundations, whereon these false opinions are built. So long as man shall be persuaded to have means or power of himself, so long will he deny, and never acknowledge what he oweth unto his Master: he shall always (as the common saying is) make shift with his own: He must be stripped into his shirt. Let us consider some notable example of the effect of Philosophy. Possiaonius having long time been grieved with a painfull-lingring disease, which with the smartingpaine made him to wring his hands, and gnash his teeth, thought to scorn grief, with exclaiming and crying out againstit: Do what thou list, yet will I never say that thou art evil or pain. He feeleth the same passions that my lackey doth, but he boasteth himself, that at least he containeth his tongue under the laws of his sect. Re succumbere non oportebat verbis gloriantem: It was not for him to yield in deeds, who had so braved it in words. Arcesilas lying sick of the gout, Carneades coming to visit him, and seeing him to frown, supposing he had been angry, was going away again, but he called him back, and showing him his feet and breast, said unto him, there is nothing come from thence hither. This hath somewhat a better garb; for he feeleth himself grieved with sickness, and would feign be rid of it, yet is not his heart vanquished or weakened thereby, the other stands upon his stiffness (as I fear) more verbal than essential. And Dionysius Heracleotes being tormented with a violent smarting in his eyes, was at last persuaded to quit these Stoic resolutions. Be it supposed that Learning and Knowledge should work those effects they speak of, that is, to blunt and abate the sharpness of those accidents or mischances, that follow and attend us; doth she any more than what ignorance effecteth much more evidently and simply? The Philosopher Pyrrho being at Sea, and by reason of a violent storm in great danger to be cast away, presented nothing unto those that were with him in the ship, to unitate but the security of an Hog which was aboard, who nothing at all dismayed, seemed to behold and outstare the tempest. Philosophy after all her precepts gives us over to the examples of a Wrestler, or of a Muletier, in whom we ordinarily perceive much less feeling of death, of pain, of grief, and other inconveniences, and more undaunted constancy, than ever Learning or Knowledge could store a man withal, unless he were borne, and of himself through some natural habitude, prepared unto it. What is the cause, the tender members of a child, or limbs of a horse are much more easy, and with less pain cut and incised than ours, if it be not ignorance? How many, only through the power of imagination, have fallen into dangerous diseases? We ordinarily see divers that will cause themselves to be let blood, purged, and dieted, because they would be cured of diseases, they never felt but in conceit; when essential and true maladies fail us, than Science and knowledge lends-us hers: This colour or complexion (said she) presageth some rheumatic defluxion will ensue you: This soultring-hote season menaceth you with some febricant commotion; this cutting of the vital line of your left hand warneth you of some notable and approaching indispolition. And at last she will roundly address herself unto perfect health; saying, this youthly vigour and sudden joy can not possibly stay in one place, her blood and strength must be abated, for fear it turn you to some mischief. Compare but the life of a man subject to these-like imaginations, unto that of a day-labouring swain, who follows his natural appetites, who measureth all things only by the present sense, and hath neither learning nor prognostications, who feeleth no disease but when he hath it: whereas the other hath often the stone imaginarily, before he have it in his reins: As if it were not time enough to endure the sickness when it shall come, he doth in his fancy prevent the same, and headlong runneth to meet with it. What I speak of Physic, the same may generally be applied and drawn to all manner of learning. Thence came this ancient opinion of those Philosophers, who placed chief felicity in the acknowledging of our judgements weakness. My ignorance affords me as much cause of hope as of fear: and having no other regiment for my health, then that of other men's examples, and of the events, I see elsewhere in like occasions, whereof I find some of all sorts: And rely upon the comparisons, that are most favourable unto me. I embrace health with open arms, free, plain, and full; and prepare my appetite to enjoy-it, by how much more, it is now less ordinary and more rare unto me: so far is it from me, that I with the bitterness of some new and forced kind of life, trouble her rest, and molest her ease. Beasts do manifestly declare unto us, how many infirmities our minds agitation brings us. That which is told us of those that inhabit bresil, who die only through age, which some impute to the clearness and calmness of their air▪ I rather ascribe to the calmness and clearness of their minds, void and free from all passions, cares, toiling, and unpleasant labours, as a people that pass their life in a wonderful kind of simplicity and ignorance, without letters, or laws, and without Kings, or any Religion. Whence comes it (as we daily see by experience) that the rudest and grossest clowns, are more tough-strong, and more desired in amorous executions: And that the love of a Muletier is often more accepted, then that of a perfumed▪ acquaint courtier? But because in the latter, the agitation of his mind doth so distracted, trouble, and weary the force of his body; as it also troubleth and wearieth itself, who doth bely, or more commonly cast the same down even into madness, but her own promptitude, her point, her agility, and to conclude her proper force? Whence proceeds the subtlest folly, but from the subtlest wisdom? As from the extremest friendships proceed the extremest enmities, and from the soundest healths, the mortalest diseases; so from the rarest and quickest agitations of our minds ensue the most distempered and outrageous frenzies. There wants but half a pegs turn to pass from the one to the other. In mad men's actions, we see how fitly folly suiteth and meets with the strongest operations, of our mind. Who knows not how unperceivable the neighbourhood between folly with the liveliest elevations of a free mind is; and the effects of a supreme and extraordinary virtue? Plato affirmeth, that melancholy minds are more excellent and disciplinable; So are there none more inclinable unto folly. Divers spirits are seen to be overthrown by their own force, and proper nimbleness. What a start hath one of the most judicious, ingenious, and most fitted unto the air of true ancient Torquato Tasso. poesy, lately gotten by his own agitation and self▪ gladness, above all other Italian Poets that have been of a long time? Hath not he wherewith to be beholding unto this his kill vivacity? unto this clearness, that hath so blinded him? unto his exact and far-reaching apprehension of reason, which hath made him void of reason? unto the curious and laborious pursuit of Sciences, that have brought him unto sottishness? unto this rare aptitude to the exercises of the mind, which hath made him without mind or exercise? I rather spited then pitied him, when I saw him at Ferrara, in so piteous a plight, that he survived himself; misacknowledging both himself and his labours, which unwitting to him, and even to his face, have been published both uncorrected and maimed. Will you have a man healthy, will you have him regular, and in constant and safe condition? overwhelm him in the dark pit of idleness, and dullness. We must be besotted ere we can become wise, and dazzled before we can be led. And if a man shall tell me, that the commodity to have the appetite cold to griefs, and wallowish to evils, draws this incommodity afterit, it is also consequently the same, that makes us less sharp and greedy to the enjoying of good, and of pleasures: It is true, but the misery of our condition beareth, that we have not so much to enjoy, as to shun, and that extreme voluptuousness doth not so much pinch us, as a light smart: Segnius homines bona quam mala sentiunt. Men have a duller feeling of a good turn, then of an ill, we have not so sensible a feeling of perfect health, as we have of the least sickness. — pungit In cute vix summa violatum plagula corpus, Quando valere nihil quemquam movet. Hoc invat unum Quod me non torquet latus aut pes; caetera quisquam Vix queat aut sanum seize, aut sentire valentem. A light stroke that doth scarce the top-skin wound, Grieves the galled body, when in health to be, Doth scarce move any: only ease is found, That neither side nor foot tormenteth me: Scarce any in the rest can feel he's sound. Our being in health, is but the privation of being ill. See wherefore the sect of Philosophy, that hath most preferred sensuality, hath also placed the same but to indolency or unfeeling of pain. To have no infirmity at all is the chiefest possession of health, that man can hope-for (as Ennius said:) Ennius. Nimium boni est, cui nihil est mali. He hath but too much good, Whom no ill hath withstood. For▪ the same tickling and pricking, which a man doth feel in some pleasures, and seems beyond simple health, and indolency, this active and moving sensuality, or as I may term it, itching and tickling pleasure aims but to be free from pain, as her chiefest scope. The lustful longing which allures us to the acquaintance of women, seeks but to expel that pain, which an earnest and burning desire doth possesse-us-with, and desireth but to allay-it, thereby to come to rest, and be exempted from this fever; And so of others. I say therefore, that if simplicity directeth-us to have no evil, it also addresseth us, according to our condition to a most happy estate. Yet ought it not to be imagined so dull and heavy, that it be altogether senseless. And Crantor had great reason to withstand the unsensibleness of Epicurus, if it were so deeply rooted, that the approaching and birth of evils might gainsay-it. I commend not that unsensibleness, which is neither possible nor to be desired. I am well pleased not to be sick, but if I be, I will know that I am so; and if I be cautherized or cut, I will feel-it. Verily, he that should root out the knowledge of evil, should there with all extirp the Ci●. Tusc. qu. ●. 3 knowledge of voluptuousness, and at last bring man to nothing. Istud nihil dolere, non sine magna mercede contingitt immanit at is in animo, stuporis in corpore. This very point, not to be offended or grieved with any thing, befalls not freely to a man, without either inhumanity in his mind, or senselessness in his body. Sickness is not amiss unto man, coming in her turn: Nor is he always to shun pain, nor ever to follow sensuality. It is a great advantage for the honour of ignorance, that Science itself throwes-us into her arms, when she finds herself busy to make us strong against the assaults of evils: she is forced to come to this composition; to yeeld-us the bridle, and giveus leave to shroud ourselves in her lap, and submit ourselves unto her favour, to shelter us against the assaults and injuries of fortune. For, what meaneth she else, when she persuades us to withdraw our thoughts from the evils that possesse-us, and entertain them with foregon pleasures, and stead-us as a comfort of present evils with the remembrance of forepast felicities, and call a vanished content to our help, for to oppose it against that which vexeth us? Levationes aegritudinum in avocation à cogitanda molestia, & revocation ad contemplandas voluptates ponit. Eases of griefs he reposeth either in calling from the thought of offence, or calling to the contemplations of some pleasures. Unless it be, that where force fails her, she will use policy, and show a trick of nimbleness and turn away, where the vigour both of her body and arms shall fail her. For, not only to a strict Philosopher, but simply to any settled man, when he by experience feeleth the burning alteration of a hot fever, what currant payment is it to pay him with the remembrance of the sweetness of Greek wine? It would rather impair his bargain. Che ricordarsi il been doppia la noia. For to think of our joy, Redoubles our annoy. Of that condition is this other counsel, which Philosophy giveth, only to keep forepast selicities in memory, and thence blot out such griefs as we have felt; as if the skill to forget were in our power: and counsel, of which we have much less. Suavis est laborum praeteritorum memoria. Ci●. Fin. li 2. ●urip. Of labours overpast, Remembrance hath sweet taste. What? shall Philosophy, which ought to put the weapons into my hands, to fight against fortune; which should harden my courage, to suppress and lay at my feet all human adversities; will she so faint, as to make me like a fearful coney creep into some lurking-hole, and like a craven to tremble and yield? For, memory representeth unto us, not what we choose, but what pleaseth her. Nay, there is nothing so deeply imprinteth any thing in our remembrance, as the desire to forget the same: It is a good way to commend to the keeping, and imprint any thing in our mind, to solicit her to lose the same. And that is false. Est Ci●. fin. bon. li. 1. situm in nobis, ut & adversa, quasi perpetua oblivione obruamus, & secunda iucundè & suaviter meminerimus. This is engraffed in us, or at least in our power, that we both bury in perpetual oblivion things passed against us, and record with pleasure and delight whatsoever was for us. And this is true, Memini etiam quae nolo; oblivisci non possum quae volo. I remember even those Plu. in vita Them. things I would not; and can not forget what I would. And whose counsel is this? his, Qui se unus sapientem profiteri sit ausus. Who only durst profess himself a wise man. Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit, & omnes Lucr. li. 3. 1086. Epicur. Praestrinxit stellas, exortus uti aetherius Sol. Who from all mankind bare for wit the prize, And dimmed the stars as when skies Sun doth rise. To empty and diminish the memory, is it not the ready and only way to ignorance? juers' malorum remedium ignorantia est. Sen. Oed. act. 3. s●e. 1. Of ills a remedy by chance, And very dull is ignorance. We see divers like precepts, by which we are permitted to borrow frivolous appearances from the vulgar sort, where lively and strong reason is not of force sufficient: always provided, they bring us content and comfort. Where they can not cure a sore, they are pleased to stupefy and hide the same. I am persuaded they will not deny me this, that if they could possibly add any order or constancy to a man's life, that it might thereby be still maintained in pleasure and tranquility, by, or through any weakness or infirmity of judgement, but they would acceptit. — potare, & spargere flores Hor. li. 1. epist. 5. 14. Incipiam, patiárque vel inconsultus haberi. I will begin to strew flowers, and drink free, And suffer witless, thriftless, held to be. There should many Philosophers be found of Lycus his opinion: This man in all other things being very temperate, and orderly in his demeanours, living quietly and contentedly with his family, wanting of no duty or office both toward his own household and strangers, very carefully preserving himself from all hurtful things: notwithstanding through some alteration of his senses or spirits, he was so possessed with this fantastical conceit or obstinate humour, that he ever and continually thought to be amongst the theatres, where he still saw all manner of spectacles, pastimes, sports, and the best Comedies of the world. But being at last by the skill of Physicians cured of this malady, and his offending humour purged, he could hardly be held from putting them in suit, to the end they might restore him to the former pleasures and contents of his imagination. — polme occidistis amici, Hor. li. 1. epist. 2. 138. Non servastis, ait, cui sic extorta voluptas, Et demptus per vim menti gratissimus error▪ You have not saved me, friends, but slain me quite, (Quoth he) from whom so reft is my delight, And error purged, which best did please my sprite. Of a raving like unto that of Thr●sylaus, son unto Pythodorus, who verily believed, that all the ships that went out from the haven of Pyraeum, yea and all such as came into it, did only travel about his business, rejoicing when any of them had made a fortunate voyage, and welcomed them with great gladness: His brother Crito, having caused him to be cured, and restored to his better senses, he much bewailed and grieved the condition wherein he had formerly lived in such joy, and so void of all care and grief. It is that, which that ancient Greek verse saith, That not to be so advised brings many commodities with it: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Soph. Ala. flag. The sweetest life I wis, In knowing nothing is. And as Ecclesiastes witnesseth: In much wisdom, much sorrow: And who getteth knowledge, purchaseth sorrow and grief. Even that, to which Philosophy doth in general Ecclesiast●●. terms allow this last remedy, which she ordaineth for all manner of necessities; that is, to make an end of that life, which we can not endure. Placet? pair: Non placet? quacunque vis exi. Pungit dolour? velfodiat sanè: si nudus es, da iugulum: sint ectus armis vulcanijs, id est fortitudine, Cic. Tusc. que lib. 2. resist. Doth it like you? obey: doth it not like you? get out as you will: doth grief prick you? and let it pierce you to: if you be naked, yield your throat: but if you be covered with the armour of Vulcan, that is, with fortitude, resist. And that saying used of the Grecians in their banquets, which they apply unto it, Aut bibat, aut abeat: Either let him carouse, or carry him out of the Ci●. ib. lib. 5. house: which rather fitteth the mouth of a Gascoine, then that of Cicero, who very easily doth change the letter B into V, Vivere si recte nëscis, decede peritis: Hor. lib. 2. pist. 2. vl●. Lusisti satis, edisti satis, atque bibisti: Tempus abire tibi est, ne potum largiùs aequo Rideat, & pulset lasciva decentiùs aetas. Live well you cannot, them that can give place; Well have you sported, eaten well, drunk well: 'Tis time you part; least wanton youth with grace Laugh at, and knock you that with swilling swell. what is it but a confession of his insufficiency, and a sending one back not only to ignorance, there to be shrouded, but unto stupidity itself, unto unsensibleness and not being? — Democritum post quam matura vetustas Lucr. lib. 3. 1083. Admonuit memorem, motus languescere mentis: Sponte sua let ho caput obvius obtulit ipse. When ripe age put Democritus in mind, That his minds motions fainted, he to find His death went willing, and his life resigned. It is that which Anthistenes said, that a man must provide himself either of wit to understand, or of a halter to hang himself: And that which Chrysippus alleged upon the speech of the Poet Tyrtaeus, De lavertu, ou de mort approcher. Plut. in Solo●s l. f●. Or virtue to approach, Or else let death encroach. And Crates said, that love was cured with hunger, i● not by time; and in him that liked not these two means, by the halter. That Sextius, to whom Seneca and Plutarch give so much commendation, having given over all things else and betaken himself to the study of Philosophy, seeing the progress of his studies so tedious and slow, purposed to cast himself into the Sea; Ran unto death for want of knowledge: Read here what the law, saith upon this subject. If peradventure any great inconvenience happen, which cannot be remedied, the haven is not far-off, and by swimming may a man save himself out of his body, as out of a leaking boat: for, it is fear to die, and not desire to live, which keeps a fool joined to his body. As life through simplicity becometh more pleasant, So (as I erewhile began to say (becommeth-it more innocent and better. The simple and the ignorant (saith S. Paul) raise themselves up to heaven, and take possession of it; whereas we, withal the knowledge we have, plunge ourselves down to the pit of hell. I rely neither upon Valentinianus (a professed enemy to knowledge and learning) nor upon Licinius (both Roman Emperors) who named them the venom and plague of all politic estates: Nor on Mahomet, who (as I have heard) doth utterly interdict all manner of learning to his subjects. But the example of that great Lycurgus, and his authority ought to bear chief sway, and thereverence of that divine Lacedaemonian policy so great, so admirable, and so long time flourishing in all virtue and felicity without any institution or exercise at all of letters. Those who return from that new world, which of late hath been discovered by the Spaniards, can witness unto us, how those nations being without Magistrates or law, live much more regularly and formally than we, who have amongst us more Officers and laws, than men of other professions, or actions. Di cit atorie piene & di libelli, D'essamine, di cart, & diprocure Aristo. can. 14. stanz. 84. Hanno le mani e'lseno, & granfastelli Di chiose, di consigli & di letture, Per cui le faculi â de'poverelli Non sono mai ne le citt à sicure, Hanno dietre & dinanzi & d'ambo i lati, Notai, procuratori, & advocati. Their hands and bosoms with writs and citations, With papers, libels, proxjes, full they bear, And bundles great of strict examinations, Of glosses, counsels, readings here and there. Whereby in towns poor men of occupations Possess not their small goods secure from fear, Before, behind, on each sides Advocates, Proctors, and Notaries hold up debates. It was that, which a Roman Senator said, that their predecessors had their breath stinking of garlic, and their stomach perfumed with a good conscience: and contrary, the men of his times, outwardly smelled of nothing but sweet odours, but inwardly they stunk of all vices: Which in mine opinion, is as much to say, they had much Knowledge and Sufficiency, but great want of honesty. In civility, ignorance, simplicity, and rudeness, are commonly joined with innocency: Curiosity, subtlety, and knowledge, are ever followed with malice: Humility, fear, obedience, and honesty (which are the principal instruments for the preservation of human society) require a single docile soul and which presumeth little of herself: Christians have a peculiar knowledge, how curiosity is in a man a natural, and original infirmity. The care to increase in wisdom and knowledge was the first overthrow of mankind: It is the way whereby man hath headlong cast himself down into eternal damnation. Pride is his loss and corruption: It is pride, that misleadeth him from common ways; that makes him to embrace all newfangles, and rather choose to be chief of a straggling troop and in the path of perdition, and be regent of some erroneous sect, and a teacher of falsehood, than a disciple in the school of truth, and suffer himself to be led and directed by the hand of others in the ready beaten high way. It is happily that, which the ancient Greek proverb implieth; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Superstition obaieth pride as a father. Oh overweening, how much dost thou hinder us? Socrates being advertised, that the God of wisdom, had attributed the name of wise unto him, was thereat much astonished, and diligently searching and rousing up himself, & ransacking the very secrets of his hart found no foundation or ground for this divine sentence. He knew some that were as just, as temperate, as valiant and as wise as he and more eloquent, more fair and more profitable to their country. In fine he resolved, that he was distinguished from others, and reputed wise, only because he did not so esteem himself: And that his God deemed the opinion of science and wisdom a singular sottishness in man; and that his best doctrine was the doctrine of ignorance, and simplicity his greatest wisdom. The sacred writ pronounceth them to be miserable in this world, that esteem themselves. Dust and ashes (saith he) what is there in thee, thou shouldest so much glory of? And in an other place. God hath made man like unto a shadow, of which who shall judge, when the light being gone, it shall vanish away? Man is a thing of nothing. So far are our faculties from conceiving that high Deity, that of our Creator's works, those bear his mark best, and are most his own, which we understand least. It is an occasion to induce Christians to believe, when they chance to meet with any incredible thing, that it is so much the more according unto reason, by how much more it is against human reason. If it were according unto reason, it were no more a wonder; and were it to be matched, it were no more singular. Melius scitur Deus nesoiendo. God is better known by our not knowing him. Sa. Augustine. Saith S. Augustine: And Tacitus, Sanctius est ac reverentius de actis deorum credere quam scire: It is a course of more holiness and neverence, to hold belief, then to have knowledge of God's actions. And Plato deems it to be a vice of impiety, over-curiously to inquire after God, after Tacitus mor. German. the world, and after the first causes of things. Atque illum quidem parentem huius universit atis invenire, difficile: & quum iam inveneris, indicare in vulgus, nesas. Both it is difficult to find out the father of this universe, and when you have found him, it is unlawful to reveal him to the vulgar, saith Cicero. We easily pronounce puissance, truth and justice; they be words importing Cic. vnive● some great matter, but that thing we neither see nor conceive. We say that God feareth, that God will be angry, and that God loveth. Immortalia mortali sermone notante●, Luer. li 5. 122. Who with terms of mortality Note things of immortality. They be all agitations and motions, which according to our form can have no place in God, nor we imagine them according to his. It only belongs to God to know himself, and interpret his own works; and in our tongues he doth it improperly, to descend and come down to us, that are, and lie grovelling on the ground. How can wisdom (which is the choice between good and evil) beseem him, seeing no evil doth touch him? How reason and intelligence, which we use to come from obscure to apparent things, seeing there is no obscure thing in God? justice which distributeth unto every man, what belongs unto him, created for the society and conversation of man, how is she in God? How temperance, which is the moderation of corporal sensualities, which have no place at all in his Godhead? Fortitude patiently to endure sorrows, and labours and dangers, appertaineth a little unto him; these three things no way approaching him, having no access unto him. And therefore Aristotle Cic. Nat. Deor. lib. 1. holds him to be equally exempted from virtue and from vice. Neque gratiâ, neque irâ teneri potest, quòd quae talia essent, imbecilla essent omnia. Nor can he be possessed with favour and anger; for all that is so, is but weak. The participation which we have of the knowledge of truth, whatsoever she is, it is not by our own strength we have gotten it; God hath sufficiently taught it us in that he hath made choice of the simple, common and ignorant, to teach us his wonderful secrets. Our faith hath not been purchased by us: it is a gift proceeding from the liberality of others. It is not by our discourse or understanding, that we have received our religion, it is by a foreign authority, and commandment. The weakness of our judgement, helps us more than our strength to compass the same and our blindness more than our clear-sighted eyes. It is more by the means of our ignorance, then of our skill, that we are wise in heavenly knowledge. It is no marvel if our natural and terrestrial means cannot conceive the supernatural, or apprehend the celestial knowledge: Let us add nothing of our own unto it, but obedience and subjection: For (as it is written) I will confound the wisdom of the wise and destroy 1. Cor. 1. 19 20. 21. the understanding of the prudent, where is the Wise? Where is the Scribe? Where is the disputer of this world. Hath not God made the wisdom of this world foolishness? For seeing the world by wisdom knew not God in the wisdom of God, it hath pleased him, by the vanity of preaching, to save them that believe. Yet must I see at last, whether it be in man's power to find what he seeks for: and if this long search, wherein he hath continued so many ages, hath enriched him with any new strength or solid truth: I am persuaded, if he speak in conscience, he will confess, that all the benefit he hath gotten by so tedious a pursuit, hath been, that he hath learned to know his own weakness. That ignorance which in us was natural, we have with long study confirmed and averred. It hath happened unto those that are truly learned, as it happeneth unto ears of Corn, which as long as they are empty, grow and raise their head aloft, upright and stout; but if they once become full and big, with ripe Corn, they begin to humble and droop downward. So men having tried, and ●ounded all, and in all this Chaos, and huge heap of learning and provision of so infinite different things, and found nothing that is substantial firm and steady, but all vanity, have renounced their presumption, and too late known their natural condition. It is that, which Velleius upbraids Cotta and Cicero withal, that they have learned of Philo, to have learned nothing. Pherecydes, one of the seven wise, writing to Thales even as he was yielding up the Ghost; I have (saith he) appointed my friends, as soon as I shallbe laid in my grave, to bring thee all my writings. If they please thee and the other Sages publish them; If not, conceal them. They contain no certainty, nor do they any whit satisfy me. My profession is not to know the truth nor to attain it. I rather open, then discover things. The wisest that ever was being demanded what he knew, answered, he knew that he knew nothing. He verified what some say, that the greatest part of what we know, is the least part of what we know not: that is, that that which we think to know, is but a parcel, yea and a small particle of our ignorance. We know things in a dream (saith Plato) and we are ignorant of them in truth. Omnes penè veteres nihil cognosci, Cic. Acad. q. l. 1 nihil percipi, nihil sciri posse dixerunt: angustos sensus, imbecilles animos, brevia curricula vitae. Almost all the ancients affirmed nothing may be known, nothing perceived, nothing understood: that our senses are narrow, our minds are weak, and the race of our life is short. Cicero himself, who ought all he had unto learning, Valerius saith, that in his age he began to disesteem letters: And whilst he practised them, it was without bond to any special body, following what seemed probable unto him, now in the one, and now in the other Sect; ever holding himself under the Academies doubtfulness. Dicendum est, sed it a ut nihil affirmem: quaeram omnia, dubitans Cic. divin. l. 1. plerumque, & mihi diffide●s. Speak I must, but so as I avouch nothing, question all things, for the most part in doubt and distrust of myself. I should have too much ado, if I would consider man after his own fashion, and in gross: which I might do by his own rule, who is wont to judge of truth not by the weight or value of voices but by the number. But leave we the common people, Qui vigilans stertit, Who snoare while they are awake. Mortua cui vita est, propè iam vivo atque videnti: Lucr. 3. 1091. Whose life is dead while yet they see, And in a manner living be. Lucr. l. 3. 108● Who feeleth not himself, who judgeth not himself, who leaves the greatest part of his natural parts idle. I will take man even in his highest estate. Let us consider him in this small number of excellent and choice men, who having naturally been endowed with a peculiar and exquisite wit, have also fostered and sharpened the same with care, with study and with art, and have brought and strained unto the highest pitch of wisdom, it may possibly reach unto. They have fitted their soul unto all senses, and squared the same to all byases; they have strengthened and under-propped it with all foreign helps, that might any way fit or stead her, and have enriched and adorned her with whatsoever they have been able to borrow, either within or without the world for her avail: It is in them, that the extreme height of human Nature doth lodge. They have reform the world with policies and laws. They have instructed the same with arts and sciences, as also by example of their wonderful manners and life. I will but make account of such people, of their witness and of their experience. Let us see how far they have gone, and what holdfast they have held by. The maladies and defects, which we shall find in that College, the world may boldly allow them to be his. Whosoever seeks for any thing, cometh at last to this conclusion and saith, that either he hath found it, or that it cannot be found, or that he is still in pursuit after it. All Philosophy is divided into these three kinds. Her purpose is to seek out the, truth the knowledge and the certainty. The Peripatetic, the Epicurians, the Stoics and others have thought they had found it. These have established the Sciences that we have, and as of certain knowledges have treated of them; Clitomochus, Carneades and the Academikes, have despaired the finding of it, and judged that truth could not be conceived by our means. The end of these, is weakness and ignorance. The former had more followers, and the wortheist Sectaries. Pyrrho and other Sceptikes, or Epochistes, whose doctrine or manner of teaching, many ancient learned men have thought to have been drawn, from Homer, from the seven wise men, from Archilochus and Euripides, to whom they join Zeno, Democritus and Xenophanes, say, that they are still seeking after truth. These judge that those are infinitely deceived, who imagine they have found-it, and that the second degree is over boldly vain in affirming that man's power is altogether unable to attain unto it. for to 'stablish the measure of our strength to know and distinguish of the difficulty of things is a great, a notable and extreme science, which they doubt whether man be capable thereof or no. Nil sciri quisquis put at, id quoque nescit, Lucr. l. 4. 471. An sciri possit, quo se nil scire fatetur. Who think's nothing is known, knows not that, whereby he Grants he knows nothing, if it known may be. That ignorance, which knoweth judgeth and condemneth itself, is not an absolute ignorance: For, to be so, she must altogether be ignorant of herself. So that the profession of the Phyrronians is ever to waver, to doubt and to inquire; never to be assured of any thing, nor to take any warrant of himself. Of the three actions or faculties of the soul, that is to say, he imaginative, the concupisciple, and the consenting, they allow and conceive the two former; the last, they hold and defend to be ambiguous, without inclination or approbation, either of one or other side, be it never so light, Zeno in jesture painted forth his imagination upon this division of the soul's faculties: the open and outstretched hand was appearance; the hand halfe-shutte, and fingers somewhat bending, consent: the fist close, comprehension: if the fist of the lefthand were closely clinched together, it signified Science. Now this situation of their judgement, strait and inflexible, receiving all objects with application or consent, leads them unto their Ataraxie; which is the condition of a quiet and settled life, exempted from the agitations, which we receive by the impression of the opinion and knowledge, we imagine to have of things; whence proceed, fear, avarice, envy, immoderate desires, ambition, pride, superstition, love of novelties, rebellion, disobedience, obstinacy, and the greatest number of corporal evils: yea by that mean they are exempted from the jealousy of their own discipline, for they contend but faintly: They fear nor revenge, nor contradiction in the disputations. When they say, that heavy things descend downward, they would be loath to be believed, but desire to be contradicted, thereby to engender doubt, and suspense of judgement, which is their end and drift. They put forth their propositions, but to contend with those, they imagine we hold in out conceit. If you take theirs, then will they undertake to maintain the contrary: all is one to them, nor will they give a penny to choose. If you propose that snow is black, they will argue on the other side, that it is white. If you say it is neither one nor other, they will maintain it to be both. If by a certain judgement, you say that you can not tell, they will maintain that you can tell. Nay, if by an affirmative axiom, you swear that you stand in some doubt, they will dispute, that you doubt not of it, or that you cannot judge or maintain, that you are in doubt. And by this extremity of doubt, which staggreth itself, they separate and divide themselves from many opinions, yea from those, which diverse ways have maintained both the doubt and the ignorance. Why shall it not be granted then (say they) as to Dogmatists or Doctrine-teachers, for one to say green, and another yellow, so for them to doubt? Is there any thing can be proposed unto you, either to allow or refuse, which may not lawfully be considered as ambiguous and doubtful? And whereas others be carried either by the custom of their Country, or by the institution of their Parents, or by chance, as by a Tempest, without choice or judgement, yea sometimes before the age of discretion, to such or such another opinion, to the Stoic or Epicurian Sect, to which they find themselves more engaged, subjected or fast tied, as to a prize they cannot let go: Ad quamcumque disciplinam, velut Tempestate, delate, ad eam tanquam Cic. academ. qu. lib. 10. ad saxum, adhaerescunt. Being carried as it were by a Tempest, to any kind of doctrine, they stick close to it, as it were to a rock. Why shall not these likewise be permitted, to maintain Ibid. their liberty, and consider of things without duty or compulsion? Hoc liberiores, & solutiores, quod integra illis est judicandi potestas. They are so much the freer and at liberty, for that their power of judgement is kept entire. Is it not some advantage for one to find himself disengaged from necessity, which bridleth others? Is it not better to remain in suspense, then to entangle himself in so many errors, that human fantasy hath brought forth? Is it not better for a man to suspend his own persuasion, than to meddle with these seditious and quarrelous divisions? What shall I choose? Marry, what you list, so you choose. A very foolish answer: to which it seemeth nevertheless, that all Dogmatisme arriveth; by which it is not lawful for you to be ignorant of that we know not. Take the best and strongest side, it shall never be so sure, but you shall have occasion to defend the same, to close and combat a hundred and a hundred sides? Is it not better to keep out of this confusion? You are suffered to embrace as your honour and life Aristotle's opinion, upon the eternity of the soul, and to bely and contradict whatsoever Plato saith concerning that; and shall they be interdicted to doubt of it? If it be lawful for Panaeci●s to maintain his judgement about Aruspices, Dreams, Oracles and Prophecies, whereof the Stoics makes no doubt at all: Wherefore shall not a wiseman dare that in all things, which this man dareth in such as he hath learned of his Masters? Confirmed and established by the general consent of the School whereof he is a Sectary and a Professor? If it be a Child that judgeth, he wo●s not what it is; if a learned man, he is forestalled. They have reserved a great advantage for themselves in the combat, having discharged themselves of the care how to shroud themselves. They care not to be beaten, so they may strike again: And all is fish that comes to net with them: If they overcome, your proposition halteth; if you, theirs is lame; if they fail they verify ignorance, if you, she is verified by you; if they prove that nothing is known, it is very well: If they cannot prove it, it is good alike: Vt quum in eadem re paria contrarijs in partibus momenta Cic. ibid. inveniuntur, faciliùs ab utraque part asser●●o sustineatur. So as when the same matter the like weight and moment is found on diverse parts, we may the more e●s●●y with hold avouching on both parts. And they suppose to find out more easily, why a thing is false, then true and that which is not, than that which is: and what they believe not, than what they believe. Their manner of speech is, I confirm nothing: It is no more so than thus, or neither: I conceive it not; Appearances are every where alike: The law of speaking pro or contra is all one. Nothing seemeth true, that may not seem false. Their Sacramental word is, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is as much to say, as I hold and stir not. Behold the burdons of their songs and other such like. Their effects is, a pure, entire and absolute surceasing and suspense of judgement. They use their reason, to inquire and to debate; and not to stay and choose. Whosoever shall imagine a perpetual confession of ignorance, and a judgement upright and without staggering, to what occasion soever may chance; That man conceives the true Phyrrhonisme. I expound this fanrazy as plain as I can, because many deem it hard to be conceived: And the Authors themselves represent it somewhat obscurely and diversely. Touching the actions of life, in that they are after the common sort. They are lent and applied to natural inclinations, to the impulsion and constraint of passions, to the constitutions of laws, and customs and to the tradition of arts: Non enim nos Deus Cic. divin. l. 1. ista scire, sed tantumodo v●i voluit. For God would not have us know these things, but only use them. By such means they suffer their common actions to be directed, without any conceit or judgement, which is the reason that I cannot well sort unto this discourse, what is said of Pyrro. They feign him to be stupid and unmoovable, leading a kind of wild and unsociable life, not shunning to be ●●t with Car●es, presenting himself unto downefales, refusing to conform himself to the laws. It is an endearing of his discipline. He would not make himself a stone or a block, but a living, discoursing and reasoning man, enjoying all pleasures and natural commodities, busying himself with, and using all his corporal and spiritual parts, in rule and right. The fantastical and imaginary, and false privileges, which man hath usurped unto himself, to sway, to appoint, and to establish, he hath absolutely renounced and quit them. Yet is there no Sect, but is enforced to allow her wise Sectary, in chief to follow divers things nor comprised nor perceived, nor allowed, if he will live. And if he take shipping, he follows his purpose, not knowing whether it shall be profitable or no; and yields to this, that the ship is good, that the pilot is skilful, and that the season is fit; circumstances only probable; After which he is bound to go, and suffer himself to be removed by appearances always provided they have no express contrariety in them. He hath a body, he hath a soul, his senses urge him forward, his mind moveth him. Although he find not this proper and singular mark of judging in himself, and that he perceive he should not engage his consent, seeing some falsehood may be like unto this truth: He ceaseth not to detect the offices of his life fully and commodiously. How many arts are there, which profess to consist more in conjecture, than in the science; That distinguish not between truth and falsehood, but only follow seeming? There is both true and false (say they) and there are means in us to seek it out, but not to stay it when we touch it. It is better for us to suffer the order of the world to manage us without further inquisition. A mind warranted from prejudice; hath a marvelous preferment to tranquillity. Men that censure and control their judges, do never duly submit themselves unto them. How much more docile and tractable are simple and uncurious minds found both towards the laws of religion and politic decrees, than these over-vigilant and nice-wits, teachers of divine and human causes? There is nothing in man's invention, wherein is so much likelihood, possibility and profit. This representeth man bare and naked, acknowledging his natural weakness, apt to receive from above some strange power, disfurnished of all human knowledge, and so much the more fit to harbour divine understanding, disannulling his judgement, that so he may give more place unto faith: Neither misbelieving nor establishing any doctrine or opinion repugnant unto common laws and observances, humble, obedient, disciplinable and studious; a sworn enemy to Heresy, and by consequence exempting himself from all vain and and irreligious opinions, invented and brought up by false Sects. It is a white sheet prepared to take from the finger of God, what form soever it shall please him to imprint therein. The more we address & commit ourselves to God, and reject ourselves, the better it is for us, Accept (saith Ecclesiastes) in good part things both in show and taste, as from day to day they are presented unto thee, the rest is beyond thy knowledge. Dominus novit cogitationes hominum, Psal. 93. ●1. quoniam vanae sunt. The Lord knows the thoughts of men, that they are vain. See how of three general Sects of Philosophy, two make express profession of doubt and ignorance; and in the third, which is the Dogmatists, it is easy to be discerned, that the greatest number have taken the face of assurance; only because they could set a better countenance on the matter. They have not so much gone about to establish any certainty in us, as to show how far they had waded in seeking out the truth, Quam docti fingunt magis quam norunt. Which the learned do rather conceit, than know. Tymaeus, being to instruct Socrates, of what he knows of the Gods, of the world and of men, purposeth to speak of it, as one man to another; and that it sufficeth, if his reasons be as probable as another man's: For, exact reasons are neither in his hands, nor in any mortal man; which one of his Sectaries hath thus imitated: Vt potero, explicabo: nec tamen, ut Pythius Cic. Tusc. qu. l. 1. Apollo, certa ut sint & fixa, quae dixero: sed, ut homunculus, probabilia coniectur â sequens. As I can, I will explain them; yet not as Apollo giving oracles, that all should be certain and set donwe, that I say, but as a mean man, who follows likelihood by his conjecture. And that upon the discourse of the contempt of death; a natural and popular discourse. Elsewhere he hath translated▪ it, upon Plato's very words. Si fortè, de Deorum naturâ ortuque mundi disserentes, Cic. univers. minus quod habemus in animo consequimur, haud erit mirum. Aequum est enim meminisse, & me, qui disseram, hominem esse. & vos qui iudicetis: ut, si probabilia dicentur, nihil ultrà requiratis. It will be no marvel, if arguing of the nature of Gods and original of the world, we scarcely reach to that which in our mind we comprehend; for it is meet we remember, that both I am a man, who am to argue, and you who are to judge, so as you seek no further, if I speak but things likely. Aristotle ordinarily hoardeth us up a number of other opinions, and other beliefs, that so he may compare his unto it, and make us see how far he hath gone further, and how near he comes unto true-likelyhood; For truth is not judged by authority, nor by others testimony. And therefore did Epicurus religiously avoid to allege any in his compositions. He is the Prince of Dogmatists, and yet we learn of him, that, to know much, breeds an occasion to doubt more. He is often seen, seriously to shelter himself under so inextricable obscurity that his meaning cannot be perceived. In effect, it is a Pyrrhonism under a resolving form. Listen to Cicero's protestation, who doth declare us others fantasies by his own. Qui requirunt, Cic. Nat. deo. l. 1. quid de quaque re ipsi sentiamus; curiosiùs id faciunt, quam necesse est. Haec in philosophiâ ratio, contra omnia disserendi, nullámque rem apertè judicandi, profecta à Socrate, repetita ab Arcesila, confirmata à Carneade usque ad nostram viget aetatem. Hi sumus, qui omnibus veris falsa quaedam adiuncta esse dicamus, tantâ similitudine, ut in iis nulla insit certè judicandi & assentiendi nota. They that would know what we conceit of every thing, use more curiosity than needs. This course in Philosophy to dispute against all things, to judge expressly of nothing, derived from Socrates, renewed by Arcesilas, confirmed by Carneades, is in force till our time: we are those that aver some falsehood intermixed with every truth, and that with such likeness, as there is no set note in those things for any assuredly to give judgement or assent. Why hath not Aristotle alone, but the greatest number of Philosophers affected difficulty, unless it be to make the vanity of the subject to prevail, and to ammuse the curiosity of our mind, seeking to feed it, by gnawing so raw and bare a bone? Clytomachus affirmed, that he could never understand by the writings of Carneades, what opinion he was of. Why hath Epicurus interdicted facility unto his Sectaries? And wherefore hath Heraclitus been surnamed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a dark misty clouded fellow? Difficulty is a coin, that wisemen make use of, as jugglers do with pass and repass, because they will not display the vanity of their art, and wherewith human foolishness is easily apaid. Clarus ob obscurum linguam, magis interinanes. Lucr. l. 1. 656. Omnia enim stolidi magis admirantur amântque, Inversis quae sub verbis latitantia cernunt. For his dark speech much praised, but of th'unwise; For fools do all still more admire and prise, That under words turned topsie-turvie lies. Cicero reproveth some of his friends, because they were wont to bestow more time about Astrology, Law, Logic, and Geometry, than such Arts could deserve; and diverted them from the devoirs of their life, more profitable and more honest. The Cyrenaike Philosophers equally contemned natural Philosophy and Logic. Zeno in the beginning of his books of the Commonwealth, declared all the liberal Sciences to be unprofitable. Chrysippus said that which Plato and Aristotle had written of Logic, they had written the same in jest and for exercise sake; and could not believe that ever they spoke in good earnest of so vain and idle a subject. Plutarch saith the same of the Metaphysikes; Epicurus would have said it of Rhetoric, of Gramar, of Poesy, of the Mathematics, and (except natural Philosophy) of all other sciences: And Socrates of all; but of the Art of civil manners and life. Whatsoever he was demanded of any man, he would ever first inquire of him, to give an account of his life, both present and past: which he would seriously examine and judge of: Deeming all other apprenticeships as subsequents and of supererogation in regard of that. Parum mihi placeant eae literaequae advirtutem doctoribus nihil profuerunt. That learning pleaseth me but a little, which nothing profiteth the teachers of it unto virtue. Most of the Arts have thus been contemned by knowledge itself: For they thought it not amiss to exercise their minds in matters, wherein was no profitable solidity. As for the rest, some have judged Plato a Dogmatist, others a Doubter, some a Dogmatist in one thing and some a Doubter, in another. Socrates, the foreman of his Dialogues doth ever ask and propose his disputation; yet never concluding, nor ever satisfying: and saith, he hath no other Science, but that of opposing. Their author Homer hath equally grounded the foundations of all Sects of Philosophy, there by to show, how indifferent he was which way we went. Some say, that of Plato arose ten divers Sects. And as I think, never was instruction wavering and nothing avouching, if his be not. Socrates was wont to say, that when Midwives begin once to put in practise the trade to make other women bring forth children, themselves become barren. That he by the title of wise, which the gods had conferred upon him, had also in his manlike and mental love shaken off the faculty of begetting: Being well pleased to afford all help and savour to such as were engendrers; to open their nature, to supple their passages, to ease the issue of their childbearing, to judge thereof, to baptise the same, to foster it, to strengthen it, to swath it, and to circumcise it; exercising and handling his instrument at the peril and fortune of others So i● it with most Authors of this third kind, as the ancients have well noted by the writings of Anaxagoras, Democritus, Parmenides, Xenophanes, and others. They have a manner of writing doubtful both in substance and intent, rather inquiring then instructing: albeit here and there, they interlace their style with dogmatical cadences. And is not that as well seen in Seneca, and in Plutarch? How much do they speak sometimes of one face, and sometimes of another, for such as look near unto it? Those who reconcile Lawyers, ought first to have reconciled them every one unto himself. Plato hath (in my seeming) loved this manner of Philosophying, Dialogue wise in good earnest, that thereby he might more decently place in sundry mouths the diversity and variation of his own conceits. Diversely to treat of matters is as good and better as to treat them conformably; that is to say, more copiously, and more profitably. Let us take example by ourselves. Definite sentences make the last period of dogmatical and resolving speech: yet see we, that those which our Parliaments present unto our people, as the most exemplare and fittest to nourish in them the reverence they owe unto this dignity, especially by reason of the sufficiency of those persons, which exercise the same, taking their glory, not by the conclusion, which to them is daily, and is common to all judges as much as the debating of divers, and agitations of contrary reasonings of law causes will admit. And the largest scope for reprehensions of some Philosophers against others, draweth contradictions and diversities with it, wherein every one of them findeth himself so entangled, either by intent to show the wavering of man's mind above all matters, or ignorantly forced by the volubility and incomprehensibleness of all matters: What meaneth this burden? In a slippery and gliding place let us suspend our belief, For as Euripides saith, Les oewres de Dieu en diverses Euripides. Facons', nous donnent des traverses. God's works do travers our imaginations, And cross our works in diverse different fashions. Like unto that, which Empedocles was wont often to scatter amongst his books, as moved by a divine fury and forced by truth. No no, we feel nothing, we see nothing; all things are hid from us: There is not one, that we may establish, how and what it is: But returning to this holy word. Cogitationes mortalium timidae & incertae adinventiones nostrae, & providentiae. Wisd. c. 9 14. The thoughts of mortal men are fearful, our devices and foresights are uncertain. It must not be thought strange if men despairing of the goal have yet taken pleasure in the chase of it; study being in itself a pleasing occupation, yea so pleasing, that amid sensualities, the stoics forbid also that, which comes from the exercise of the mind, and require a bridle to it, and find intemperance in over much knowledge. Democritus having at his table eaten some figs, that tasted of honey, began presently in his mind, to seek out whence this unusual sweetness in them might proceed; and to be resolved, rose from the board, to view the place where those figs had been gathered. His maid servant noting this alteration in her master, smilingly said unto him, that he should no more busy himself about it; the reason was, she had laid them in a vessel, where honey had been, whereat he seemed to be wroth in that she had deprived him of the occasion of his intended search, and robbed his curiosity of matter to work upon. Away (quoth he) unto her, thou hast much offended me; yet will I not omit to find out the cause, as if it were naturally so. Who perhaps would not have miss to find some likely or true reason, for a false and supposed effect. This story of a famous and great Philosopher doth evidently represent unto us this studious passion, which so doth ammuse us in pursuit of things, of whose obtaining we despair. Plutarch reporteth a like example of one, who would not be resolved of what he doubted, because he would not lose the pleasure he had in seeking it: As another, that would not have his Physician remove the thirst he felt in his ague, because he would not lose the pleasure he took in quenching the same with drinking. S●tius est supervacua Sen. epi. 89 f. discere, quam nihil. It is better to learn more than we need, than nothing at all, Even as in all feeding, pleasure is always alone and single; and all we take that is pleasant, is not ever nourishing and wholesome: So likewise, what our mind draws from learning leaveth not to be voluptuous, although it neither nourish nor be wholesome. Note what their saying is: The consideration of nature is a food proper for our minds, it raiseth and puffeth us up, it makes us by the comparison of heavenly and high things to disdain base and low matters: the search of hidden and great causes is very pleasant, yea unto him that attains nought but thereverence and fear to judge of them, These are the very words of their profession. The vain image of this crazed curiosity, is more manifestly seen in this other example, which they for honour-sake have so often in their mouths. Eudoxus wished, and prayed to the Gods, that he might once view the Sun near at hand, to comprehend his form, his greatness and his beauty; on condition he might immediately be burnt and consumed by it. Thus with the price of his own life would he attain a Science, whereof both use and possession shall therewith be taken from him; and for so sudden and fleeting knowledge, loose and forego all the knowledges he either now hath, or ever hereafter may have. I can not easily be persuaded, that Epicurus, Plato, or Pythagoras have sold us their Atoms, their Ideas, and their Numbers for ready payment. They were overwise to establish their articles of faith upon things so uncertain and disputable. But in this obscurity and ignorance of the world, each of these notable men hath endeavoured to bring some kind of show or image of light; and have busied their minds about inventions, that might at least have a pleasing and wil●e appearance, provided (notwithstanding it were false) it might be maintained against contrary oppositions: Vnicuiquae ista pro ingento finguntur, non ex Scientiae v●. These things are conceited by every man as his wit serves, not as his knowledge stretches and reaches. An ancient Philosopher being blamed for professing that Philosophy, whereof, in his judgement he made no esteem; answered, that that was true Philosophising. They have gone about to consider all, to balance all, and have found that it was an occupation fitting the natural curiosity which is in us. Some things they have written for the behoof of common society, as their religions: And for this consideration was it reasonable, that they would not thoroughly unfold common opinions, that so they might not breed trouble in the obedience of laws and customs of their countries. Plato treateth this mystery in a very manifest kind of sport. For, where he writeth according to himself, he prescribeth nothing for certainty: When he institutes a Law giver, he borroweth a very swaying and avouching kind of style: Wherein he boldly entermingleth his most fantastical opinions; as profitable to persuade the common sort, as ridiculous to persuade himself: Knowing how apt we are to receive all impressions, and chiefly the most wicked and enormous. And therefore is he very careful in his laws that nothing be sung in public but Poesies; the fabulous fictions of which tend to some profitable end: being so apt to imprint all manner of illusion in man's mind, that it is injustice not to feed them rather with commodious lies, then with lies either unprofitable or damageable, He flatly saith in his Commonwealth, that for the benefit of men, it is often necessary to deceive them. It is easy to distinguish, how some Sects have rather followed truth, and some profit; by which the latter have gained credit. It is the misery of our condition, that often, what offers itself unto our imagination for the likely est: presents not itself unto it for the most beneficial unto our life. The boldest sects, both Epicurian, Pirrhonian and new Academike, when they have cast their acoumpt, are compelled to stoop to the civil law. There are other subjects, which they have tossed, some on the left and some on the right hand, each one labouring and striving to give it some semblance, were it right or wrong: For, having found nothing so secret, whereof they have not attempted to speak, they are many times forced to forge diverse feeble and fond conjectures: Not that themselves took them for a groundwork, nor to establish a truth, but for an exercise of their study. Non tam id sensisse, quod dicerent, quam exercere ingenia materiae difficultate videntur voluisse. They seem not so much to have thought as they said, as rather willing to exercise their wits in the difficulty of the matter. And if it were not so taken, how should we cloak so great an inconstancy, variety and vanity of opinions, which we see to have been produced by these excellent and admirable spirits? As for example, What greater vanity can there be, then to go about by our proportions and conjectures to guess at God? And to govern both him and the world according to our capacity and laws? And to use this small scantlin of sufficiency, which he hath pleased to impart unto our natural condition, at the cost and charges of divinity? And because we cannot extend our sight so far as his glorious throne, to have removed him down to our corruption and miseries? Of all-humane and ancient opinions concerning religion, I think that to have had more likelihood and excuse, which knowledged and confessed God to be an incomprehensible power, chief beginning and preserver of all things; all goodness, all perfection; accepting in good part the honour and reverence which mortal men did yield him, under what usage, name and manner soever it was. jupiter omnipotens rerum, regúmque, Deúmque, Progenitor, genitrixque. Almighty jove, is parent said to be Of things, of Kings, of Gods, both he and sne. This zeal hath universally been regarded of heaven with a gentle and gracious eye. All Policies have reaped some fruit by their devotion: Men, and impious actions have every where had correspondent events. Heathen histories acknowledge dignity, order, justice, prodigies, and oracles, employed for their benefit and instruction, in their fabulous religion: God of his mercy daining peradventure, to foster by his temporal blessings the budding and tender beginnings of such a brute knowledge, as natural reason gave them of him, athwart the false images of their deluding dreams: Not only false, but impious and injurious are those, which man hath forged and divised by his own invention. And of all religions Saint Paul found in credit at Athens, that which they had consecrated unto a certain hidden and unknown divinity, seemed to be most excusable, Pythagoras shadowed the truth somewhat nearer, judging that the knowledge of this first cause and Ens entium must be vndefined, without any prescription or declaration. That it was nothing else but the extreme indevor of our imagination, toward perfection, every one amplifying the Idea thereof according to his capacity. But if Numa undertook to conform the devotion of his people to this project, to join the same to a religion merely mental, without any prefixed object, or material mixture; he undertook a matter to no use. Man's mind could never be maintained, if it were still floating up and down in this infinite deep of shapeless conceits. They must be framed unto her to some image, according to her model. The majesty of God hath in some sort suffered itself to be circumscribed to corporal limits: His supernatural and celestial Sacraments, bear signs of our terrestrial condition. His adoration is expressed by offices and sensible words; for, it is man that believeth and prayeth. I omit other arguments, that are emplyed about this subject. But I could hardly be made believe, that the sight of our Crucifixes, and pictures of that pitiful torment, that the ornaments and ceremonious motions in our Churches, that the voices accommodated and suited to our thoughts-devotions, and this stirring of our senses, doth not greatly inflame the people's souls, with a religious passion, of wondrous beneficial good. Of those, to which they have given bodies, as necessity required amid this general blindness; as for me, I should rather have taken part with those who worshipped the Sun. — lafoy lumiere commune, L'oeil du monde: & si Dieu au chef port des yeux, Les rayons du Solil sont ses yeux radieux Qui donnent vie à tous, nous maintiennent & gardent, Et les faicts des humains en ce monde regardent: Ce beau, ce grand Soleil, qui nons fait les saysons, Selon qui'il entre ou sort de ses douze maysos: Qui remplit l'vnivers de ses vertus cognues, Qui d'vntraict de ses yeux nous dissipe les news: L'sprit, l'ame du monde, ardant & flamboyant, En la couree d'un iour tout le Ciel tour noyand, Plain d'immense geandeur, rond, vagabond & farm: Lequel tient dessoubs luy tout le monde pour term, Enrepos sans repos, oysif, & sans seiour, Fills aisnè de nature, & le pere du iour. The common light, The world's eye: and if God bear eyes in his chief head, His most resplendent eyes, the Sunbeams may be said, Which unto all give life, which us maintain and guard, And in this world of men, the works of men regard, This great, this beauteous Sun, which us our seasons makes, As in twelve houses he, ingress or egress takes; Who with his Virtues known, doth fill this universe With one cast of his eyes doth us all clouds disperse, The spirit, and the soul of this world, flaming, burning, Round about heaven in course of one days journey turning. Of endless greatness full, round, mooveable and fast: Who all the world for bounds beneath himself hath placed: In rest, without rest, and still more staid, without stay, Of Nature th'eldest Child, and father of the day. Forasmuch as besides this greatness and matchless beauty of his, it is the only glorious piece of this vaste-worldes-frame, which we perceive to be furthest from us: And by that mean so little known, as they are pardonable, that entered into admiration, and reverence of it. Thale●, who was the first to inquire and find out this matter, esteemed God to be a spirit, who made all things of water. Anaximander thought, the Gods did die, and were new borne at diverse seasons: and that the worlds were infinite in number. Anaximenes' deemed the air to be a God, which was created immense, and always moving. Anaxagoras was the first that held the description and manner of all things, to be directed by the power and reason of a spirit infinite. Alcmaeon hath ascribed Divinity unto the Sun, unto the Moon, unto Stars, and unto the Soul. Pythagoras hath made God, a spirit dispersed through the Nature of all things, whence our souls are derived. Parmenides, a Circle circumpassing the heavens, and by the heat of light maintaining the world. Empedocles said, the four Natures, whereof all things are made, to be Gods. Protagords, that he had nothing to say, whether they were or were not, or what they were. Democritus would sometimes say, that the images and their circuitions were Gods, and othertimes this Nature, which disperseth these images; and then our knowledge and intelligence. Plato scattereth his belief after divers semblances. In his Tymeus, he saith, that the worlds-father could not be named. In his Laws, that his being must not be enquired-after. And elsewhere in the said books, he maketh the world, the heaven, the stars, the earth and our souls, to be Gods; and beside, admiteth those that by ancient institutions have been received in every Commonwealth. Xenophon reporteth a like difference of Socrates his discipline. Sometimes that God's form ought not to be inquired after; then he makes him infer, that the Sun is a God, and the Soul a God: othertimes, that there is but one, and then more. Speusippus Nephew unto Plato, makes God to be a certain power, governing all things, and having a soul. Aristotle saith sometimes that it is the spirit, and sometimes the world; othertimes he appointeth another ruler over this world, and sometimes he makes God to be the heat of heaven. Xenocrates makes eight; five named amongst the planets, the sixth composed of all the fixed stars, as of his own members; the seventh and eight, the Sun and the Moon. Heraclides Ponticus doth but roam among his opinions, and in fine depriveth God of sense, and makes him remove and transchange himself from one form to another; and then saith, that it is both heaven and earth. Theophrastus' in all his fantasies wandereth still in like irresolutions, attributing the worlds superintendency now to the intelligence, now to the heaven, and now to the stars. Straio, that it is Nature having power to engender, to augment and to diminish, without form or sense. Zeno, the natural Law, commanding the good, and prohibiting the evil; which Law is a breathing creature; and removeth the accustomed Gods, jupiter, juno and Vesta. Diogenes Appolloniates, that it is Age. Xenophanes makes God, round, seeing, hearing not breathing, and having nothing common with human Nature. Aristo deemeth the form of God to be incomprehensible, and depriveth him of senses, and wotteth not certainly whether he be a breathing soul or something else. Cleanthes, sometimes reason, othertimes the World, now the soul of Nature, and other-while the supreme heat, enfoulding and containing all. Persaeus Zenoes' disciple hath been of opinion, that they were surnamed Gods, who had brought some notable good or benefit unto human life, or had invented profitable things. Chrysippus, made a confused huddle of all the foresaid sentences, and amongst a thousand forms of the Gods, which he feigneth, he also accounteth those men, that are immortalised. Diagoras and Theodorus, flatly denied, that there were any Gods: Epicurus makes the Gods, bright-shining, transparent and perflable, placed as it were between two Forts, between two Worlds, safely sheltered from all blows; invested with a human shape, and with our members, which unto them are of no use. Ego Deûm genus esse semper duxi, & dicam c●litum, E●●. Cice. diu. l. 2. Sed eos non curare opinor, quid agat humanum genus. I still thought and will say, of Gods there is a kind; But what our mankind doth, I think they nothing mind. Trust to your Philosophy, boast to have hit the nail on the head; or to have found out the bean of this Cake, to see this coil and hurly burly of so many Philosophical wits. The trouble or confusion of worldly shapes and forms, hath gotten this of me, that customs and conceits differing from mine, do not so much dislike me, as instruct me; and at what time I confer or compare them together, they do not so much puff me up with pride, as humble me with lowliness. And each other choice, except that, which cometh from the express hand of God, seemeth to me a choice of small prerogative or consequence. The world's policies are no less contrary one to another in this subject, than the schools: Whereby we may learn, that Fortune hirself is no more diverse, changing and variable, than our reason, nor more blind and inconsiderate. Things most unknown are fittest to be deified. Wherefore, to make gods of ourselves (as antiquity hath done,) it exceed the extreme weakensse of discourse. I would rather have followed those that worshipped the Serpent, the Dog and the Ox, forsomuch as their Nature and being is least known to us; and we may more lawfully imagine what we list of those beasts and ascribe extraordinary faculties unto them. But to have made Gods of our condition, whose imperfections we should know, and to have attributed desire, choler, revenge, marriages, generation, alliances, love and jealousy, our limbs and our bones, our infirmities, our pleasures, our deaths and our Sepulchers unto them, hath of necessity proceeded from a mere and egregious sottishness, or drunkenness of man's wit. Quae procul usque adeo divino ab numine distant Lucr. l. 5. 123. Inque Deûm numero quae sint indigna videri. Which from Divinity so distant are, To stand in rank of God's unworthy far. Forma, aetates, vestitus, ornatus noti sunt: genera, coniugia, cognationes, omniáque traducta ad similitudinem imbecillitatis humanae: nam & perturbatis animis inducuntur, accipimus enim Deorum cupiditates, agritudines, iracundias. Their shapes, their ages, their apparel, their furnitures are known; their kinds, their marriages, their kindred, and all translated to the likeness of man's weakness: For they are also brought in with minds much troubled: for we read of the lust fullness, the grievings, the angriness of the Gods. As to have ascribed Divinity, not only unto faith, virtue, honour, concord, liberty, victory and piety; but also unto voluptuousness, fraud; death envy, age and misery; yea unto fear, unto ague and unto evil fortune and such other injuries and wrongs to our frail and transitory life. Quid invat hoc, templ●s nostros inducere mores? Pers. sat. 2. 62. 61. O curvae in terris animae & calestium inanes! What boots it, into Temples to bring manners of our kinds? O crooked souls on earth, and void of heavenly minds. The Egyptians with an impudent wisdom forbade upon pain of hanging, that no man should dare to say; that Serapis and Isis their Gods, had whilom been but men, when all knew they had been so. And their images or pictures drawn with a finger a cross their mouths imported (as Varro saith) this mysterious rule unto their priests, to conceal their mortal offspring, which by a necessary reason disannulled all their veneration. Since man desired so much to equal himself to God, it had been better for him (saith Cicero) to draw those divine conditions unto himself, and bring them down to earth, then to send his corruption, and place his misery above in heaven: but to take him aright, he hath diverse ways and with like vanity of opinion, done both the one and other. When Philosophers blazon and display the Hierarchy of their gods and to the utmost of their skill indevor to distinguish their alliances, their charges, and their powers. I cannot believe they speak in good earnest when Plato decifreth unto us the orchard of Pluto, and the commodities or corporal pains which even after the ruin and consumption of our body, wait for us, and applieth them to the apprehension or feeling we have in this life. Secreti celant colles, & myrtia circùm Virg. Aen. l. 6. 443. Sylva tegit, curae non ipsa in morte relinquunt. Them paths aside conceal, a myrtle grove Shades them round; cares in death do not remove. When Mahomet promiseth unto his followers aparadise all tapistred, adorned with gold and precious stones, peopled with exceeding beauteous damsels, stored with wines and singular cates. I well perceive they are but sooffers, which suit and apply themselves unto our foolishness, thereby to enhonme and allure us to these opinions and hopes fitting our mortal appetite. Even so are some of our men fallen into like errors by promising unto themselves after their resurrection a terrestrial and temporal life, accompanied with all sorts of pleasures and worldly commodities. Shall we think that Plato, who had so heavenly conceptions, and was so well acquainted with Divinity, as of most he purchased the surname of Divine, was ever of opinion, that man (this silly and wretched creature man) had any one thing in him, which might in any sort be applied, and suited to this incomprehensible and unspeakable power? or ever imagined, that our languishing hold fasts were capable, or the virtue of our understanding of force, to participate or be partakers, either of the blessedness, or eternal punishment? He ought in the behalf of human reason be answered: If the pleasures, thou promisest us in the other life, are such as I have felt here below, they have nothing in them common with infinity. If all my five natural senses were even surcharged with joy and gladness, and my soul possessed with all the contents and, delights, it could possibly desire or hope for (and we know what it either can wish or hope for) yet were it nothing. If there be any thing that is mine, then is there nothing that is Divine; if it be nothing else, but what may appertain unto this our present condition, it may not be accounted-of, All mortal men's contentment is mortal. The acknowledging of our parents, of our children and of our friends, if it can not touch, move or tickle us in the other world, if we still take hold of such a pleasure, we continue in Terrestrial and transitory commodities. We can not worthily conceive of these high, mysterious, and divine promises; if we can but in any sort conceive them, and so imagine them aright; they must be thought to be inimaginable, unspeakable and incomprehensible, and absolutely and perfectly other than those of our miserable experience. No eye can behold, (saith saint Paul) The hap that God prepareth 1. Cor. 2. 9 for his elect, nor can it possibly enter the heart of man. And if to make us capable of it (as thou saith Plato by thy purifications) our being is reform and essence changed, it must be by so extreme and universal a change, that according to Philosophical doctrine, we shall be no more ourselves: Hector erat tunc cum bello certabat, at ille Orid. Trist l. 3. el. 11. 27. Tr●ctus ab Aemonio non er at Hector equo. Hector he was, when he in fight used force; Hector he was not, drawn by th'enemies' horse. it shall be some other thing, that shall receive these recompenses. — quod mutatur, dissolvitur, interit ergo: Lucr. l. 3. 781. Traijciuntur enim parts at que ordine migrant. What is changed, is dissolved, therefore dies: Translated parts in order fall and rise. For, in the Metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls of Pythagoras, and the change of habitation, which he imagined the souls to make; shall we think that the Lion in whom abideth the soul of Caesar, doth wed the passions which concerned Caesar, or that it is he? And if it were he, those had some reason, who debating this opinion against Plato, object that the son might one day be found committing with his mother under the shape of a Mules body, and such like absurdities. And shall we imagine, that in the transmigrations which are made from the bodies of some creatures into others of the same kind, the new succeeding-ones are not other, than their predecessors were? Of a Phenixes cinders, first (as they say) is engendered a worm and then another Phoenix: who can imagine that this second Phoenix be no other and different from the first? Our Silk-wormes are seen to die and then to wither dry, and of that body breedeth a Butterfly, and of that a worm, were it not ridiculous to think, the same to be the first Silkeworm? what hath once lost his being, is no more. Nec si materiam nostram collegerit aetas Ib. 890. Post obitum, rursúmque redegerit, ut sita nunc est Atque iterum nobis fuerint data lumina vitae, Pertineat quidquam tamen ad nos id quoque factum, Interrupta semel cum sit repet entia nostra. If time should recollect, when life is past, Our stuff, and it replace, as now 'tis placed, And light of life were granted us again, Yet nothing would that deed to us pertain, When interrupted were our turn again. And Plato, when in another place thou sayst, that it shall be the spiritual part of man that shall enjoy the recompenses of the other life, thou tellest of things of as small likelihood. Scilicet avulsis radicibus ut nequit ullam Ib. 580. Dispicere ipse oculus rem seorsum corpore toto. Even as no eye, by th'root's pull'd-out can see Aught in whole body several to be. For, by this reckoning, it shall no longer be man, nor consequently us, to whom this enjoying shall appertain; for we are built of two principal essential parts, the separation of which, is the death and consummation of our being. Inter enim jacta est vitai causa vagèque Ib. 903. D●●rrarunt passim motus ab sensibus omnes. A pause of life is interposed; from sense All motions strayed are, far wandering thence. we do not say, that man suffereth, when the worms gnaw his body and limbs whereby he lived, and that the earth consumeth them. Et nihil hoc ad nos, qui coitu coniugioque Ibid. 888. Corporis atque animae consistimus uniter apti. This nought concerns us, who consist of union, Of mind and body joined in meet communion, Moreover, upon what ground of their justice, can the God's reward man and be thankful unto him after his death, for his good and virtuous actions, since themselves addressed and bred them in him? And wherefore are they offended, and revenge his vicious deeds, when themselves have created him with so defective a condition, and that but with one twinkling of their will, they may hinder him from sinning? Might not Epicurus with some show of human reason object that unto Plato, if he did not often shroud himself under this sentence; That it is unpossible by mortal nature to establish any certainty of the immortal? She is ever straying, but especially when she meddleth with divine matters. Who feels it more evidently than we? For, although we have ascribed unto her, assured and infallible principles, albeit we enlighten her steps with the holy lamp of that truth, which God hath been pleased to impart unto us, we notwithstanding see daily, how little soever she stray from the ordinary path, and that she start or straggle out of the way, traced and measured out by the Church, how soon she looseth, entangleth and confoundeth herself; turning, tossing and floating up and down, in this vast, troublesome and tempestuous sea of man's opinions, without restraint or scope. So soon as she looseth this high and common way, she devideth and scattereth herself a thousand divers ways. Man can be no other than he is, nor imagine but according to his capacity: It is greater presumption (saith Plutarch) in them that are but men, to attempt to reason and discourse of Gods, and of demie-Gods, then in a man merely ignorant of music, to judge of those that sing; or for a man, that was never in wars, to dispute of Arms and war, presuming by some light conjecture, to comprehend the effects of an art altogether beyond his skill- As I think, Antiquity imagined it did something for divine Majesty, when she compared the same unto man, attiring her with his faculties, and enriching her with his strange humours, and most shameful necessities: offering her some of our cates to feed upon, and some of our dances, mummeries, and interludes to make her merry, with our clothes to apparel her; and our houses to lodge her, cherishing her with the sweet odours of incense, and sounds of music, adorning her with garlands and flowers, and to draw her to our vicious passion, to flatter her justice with an in human revenge, gladding her with the ruin and dissipation of things created and preserved by her. As Tiberius Sempronius, who for a sacrifice to Vulcan, caused the rich spoils and arms, which he had gotten of his enemies in Sardinia, to be burned: And Paulus Emilius, those he had obtained in Macedonia, to Mars and Minerva. And Alexander coming to the Ocean of India, cast in favour of Thetis many great rich vessels of gold into the Sea, replenishing moreover her Altars with a butcherly slaughter, not only of innocent beasts, but of men, as divers Nations, and amongst the rest, ours were wont to do. And I think none hath been exempted from showing the like▪ Essays. — Summon creatos Virg. Aen. l. 10 517. Quatuor hic iwenes, totidem, quos educat Vfens, Viventes rapit, inferias quos immolet umbris. Four youngmen borne of Sulmo, and four more Whom Vfens bred, he living over-bore, Whom he to his dead friend A sacrifice might send. The Geteses deem themselves immortal, and their death but the beginning of a journey to their God Zamolxis. From five to five years, they dispatch some one among themselves toward him, to require him of necessary things. This deputy of theirs is chosen by lots; And the manner to dispatch him, after they have by word of mouth instructed him of his charge, is that amongst those which assist his election, three hold so many javelins upright, upon which the others by mere strength of arms, throw him, if he chance to stick upon them in any mortal place, and that he die suddenly, it is to them an assured argument of divine favour; but if he escape, they deem him a wicked and execrable man, and then choose another. Amestris mother unto Xerxes, being become aged, caused at one time 14. young striplings of the noblest houses of Persia (following the religion of her country) to be buried all alive, thereby to gratify some God of under-earth. Even at this day the Idols of Temixitan are cemented with the blood of young children, and love no sacrifice but of such infant and pure souls: Oh justice greedy of the blood of innocency. Tantum religio potuit su●dere malorum. L●c. l. 1. 102. Religion so much mischief could Persuade, where it much better should. The Carthaginians were wont to sacrifice their own children unto Saturn, and who had none, was feign to buy some: and their fathers and mothers were enforced in their proper persons, with cheerful and pleasant countenance to assist that office. It was a strange conceit, with our own affliction to go about to please and appay divine goodness. As the Lacedemomans, who flattered and wantonized their Diana, by torturing of young boys, whom often in favour of her they caused to be whipped to death. It was a savage kind of humour, to think do gratify the Architect with the subversion of his architecture: and to cancel the punishment due unto the guilty, by punishing the guiltless, and to imagine that poor Iphigenia, in the port of Aulis, should by her death and sacrifice discharge and expiate, towards God, the Grecians army of the offences, which they had committed. Et casta incest nubendi tempore in ipso Ibid. 99 Hostia concider et mactatu moest a parentis. She, a chaste offering, grieved incestuously By father's stroke, when she should wed, to die. And those two noble and generous souls of the Deccis, father and son, to reconcile, and appease the favour of the Gods, towards the Romans affairs, should head long cast their bodies athwart the thickest throng of their enemies. Quae fuit tanta Deorum iniquitas, ut placari populo Romano non possint, nisi tales viri occidissent? What injustice of the Gods was so great, as they could not be appeased, unless such men perished? Considering that it lies not in the offender to cause himself to be whipped, how and when he list, but in the judge, who accoumpteth nothing a right punishment, except the torture he appointeth; and cannot impute that unto punishment, which is in the free choice of him that suffereth. The divine vengeance presupposeth our full dissent, for his justice and our pain. And ridiculous was that humour of Polycrates, the Tyrant of Samos, who to interrupt the course of his continual happiness, and to recompence-it, cast the richest and most precious jewel he had into the Sea, deeming that by this purposed mishap he should satisfy the revolution and vicissitude of fortune; which to deride his folly, caused the very same jewel, being found in a fishes-belly, to return to his hands again. And to what purpose are the manglings and dismemberings of the Corybantes, of the Maenades, and now a days of the mahometans, who scar, and gash their faces, their stomach and their limbs, to gratify their prophet: seeing the offence consisteth in the will, not in the breast, nor eyes, nor in the genitories, health, shoulders, or throat? Tantus est perturbatae mentis & sedibus suis pulsae furror, ut sic dij placentur, quemadmodum ne Aug. Civi. Dei l. 6. c. 10. homines quidem saeviunt. So great is the fury of a troubled mind put from the state it should be in, as the Gods must be so pacified, as even men would not be so outrageous. This natural contexture doth by her use not only respect us, but also the service of God, and other men's: it is injustice to make it miscarry at our pleasure, as under what pretence soever it be to kill ourselves. It seemeth to be a great cowardice and manifest treason, to abuse the stupid and corrupt the servile functions of the body, to spare the diligence unto the soul how to direct them according unto reason. Vbi iratos deos timent, qui sic propitios habere merentur. In regiae libidinis Ibid. e. Senec. voluptatem castrati sunt quidam; sed nemo ●ibi, ne vir esset, in bent domino, manus intulit. Where are they afeard of God's anger, who in such sort deserve to have his favour; some have been gelded for Princes lustful pleasure: but no man at the Lords command, hath laid hands on himself, to be less than a man. Thus did they replenish their religion and stuff it with diverse bad effects. — saepius olim Lucr. l. 1. 82. Religio peperit scelerosa atque impia facta. Religion hath oft times in former times. Bred execrable facts, ungodly crimes. Now can nothing of ours, in what manner soever, be either compared or referred unto divine nature, that doth not blemish or defile the same with as much imperfection. How can this infinite beauty, power and goodness admit any correspondency or similitude with a thing so base and abject as we are, without extreme interest and manifest derogation from his divine greatness? Infirmum Dei fortius est hominibus; & stultum Dei sapientius est hominibus, 1. Cor. 1. 25. The weakness of God is stronger than men: and the foolishness of God is wiser than men. Stilpo the Philosopher, being demanded, whether the Gods rejoice at our honours and sacrifices; you are indiscreet (said he) let us withdraw ourselves a part, if you speak of such matters. Notwithstanding we prescribe him limits, we lay continual siege unto his power by our reasons. (I call our dreams and our vanities reason, with the dispensation of Philosophy, which saith, that both the fool and the wicked do rave and dote by reason; but that it is a reason of several and particular form) we will subject him to the vain and weak appearances of our understanding; him who hath made both us and our knowledge. Because nothing invade of nothing: God was not able to frame the world without matter. What? Hath God delivered into our hands the keys, and the strongest wards of his infinite puissance? Hath he obliged himself not to exceed the bounds of our knowledge? Suppose, oh man, that herein thou hast been able to mark some signs of his effects: Thinkest thou, he hath therein employed all he was able to do, and that he hath placed all his forms and Ideas, in this piece of work? Thou seest but the order and policy of this little little Cell wherein thou art placed: The question is, whither thou seest it: His divinity hath an infinite jurisdiction far beyond that: This piece is nothing in respect of the whole. — omnia cum caelo terraque marique, Lucr. l. 6. 675. Nil sunt ad summam summai totius omnem. All things that are, with heaven, with Sea, and land, To th'whole sum of th'whole sum, as nothing stand. This law thou a leagest is but a municipal law, and thou knowest not what the universal is. Tie thyself unto that, whereto thou are subject, but tie not him; he is neither thy companion, nor thy brother, nor thy fellow Citizen, nor thy compesmate. If he in any sort have communicated himself unto thee, it is not to debase himself, or stoop to thy smallness, nor to give thee the controlment of his power. Man's body cannot soar up unto the clouds, this is for thee. The Sun uncessantly goeth his ordinary course: The bounds of the Seas and of the earth can not be confounded: The water is ever fleeting, wavering, and without firmness: A wall without breach or flaw, inpenetrable unto a solid body: Man cannot preserve his life amidst the flames, he cannot corporally be both in heaven and on earth, and in a thousand places together and at once. It is for thee that he hath made these rules; it is thou they take hold off. He hath testified unto Christians, that when ever it pleased him he hath out gone them all. And in truth, omnipotent as he is, wherefore should he have restrained his forces unto a limited measure? In favour of whom should he have renounced his privilege? Thy reason hath in no one other thing more likelihood and foundation, then in that which persuadeth thee a plurality of worlds. Terrámque & solemn, lunam, mare, caetera quae sunt, Ib. 2. 1094. Non esse unica, sed numero magis innumerali. The earth, the Sun, the Moon, the Sea and all In number numberless, not one they call. The famousest wits of former ages have believed it, yea and some of our modern, as forced thereunto by the appearance of human reason. For as much as whatsoever we see in this vast world's frame, there is no one thing alone, single and one: — cum in summa res nulla sit una, Ib. 1086. unica quae gignatur, & unica sol●que crescat: Whereas in general sum, nothing is one, To be bred only one, grow only one. and that all several kinds are multiplied in some number: Whereby it seemeth unlikely, that God hath framed this piece of work alone without a fellow; and that the matter of this form hath wholly been spent in this only Individuum; Quare etiam atque etiam tales fateare necesse est, Ib. 1●73. Esse alios alibi congressus materiaij, Qualis hic est avido complexu quem tenet Aether. Wherefore you must confess, again again, Of matter such like meetings else where reign As this, these skies in greedy gripe contain. Namely if it be a breathing creature, as its motions make it so likely, that Plato assureth it, and diverse of ours either affirm it, or dare not impugn it; no more than this old opinion, that the Heaven, the Stars and other members of the World, are Creatures composed both of body and soul; mortal in respect of their composition, but immortal by the creators decree. Now, if there be diverse Worlds, as Democritus, Epicurus and well-near all Philosophy hath thought; what know we, whether the principles and the rules of this one concern or touch likewise the others? Happily they have another semblance and another policy. Epicurus imagineth them either like or unlike. We see an infinite difference and variety in this world, only by the distance of places. There is neither Corn, nor Wine; no nor any of our beasts seen in that new Corner of the World, which our fathers have lately discovered: All things differ from ours. And in the old time, mark but in how many parts of the world, they had never knowledge nor of Bacchus nor of Ceres. If any credit may be given unto Pliny or to Herodotus, there is in some places a kind of men that have very little or no resemblance at all with ours. And there be apparel and ambiguous shapes, between a human and brutish Nature. Some countries there are, where men are borne headless, with eyes and mouths in their breasts; where all are Hermaphrodites; where they creep on all four; Where they have but one eye in their forehead, and heads more like unto a dog than ours; Where from the Navel downwards they are half fish, and live in the water; Where women are brought a bed at five years of age, and live but eight; Where their heads and the skin of their brows are so hard, that no iron can pierce them, but will rather turn edge; Where men never have beards. Other Nations there are, that never have use of fire? Others whose sperm is of a black colour. What shall we speak of them, who naturally change themselves into wolves, into Coults, and then into Men again? And if it be (as Plutark saith) that in some part of the Indias, there are men without mouths, and who live only by the smell of certain sweet odours; how many of our descriptions be then false? He is no more ri●ible; nor perhaps capable of reason and society: The direction and cause of our inward frame, should for the most part be to no purpose. Moreover, how many things are there in our knowledge, that oppugn these goodly rules, which we have allotted and prescribed unto Nature? And we undertake to join GOD himself unto her. How many things do we name miraculous and against Nature? Each man and every Nation doth it according to the measure of his ignorance. How many hidden proprieties and quintessences do we daily discover? For us to go according to Nature, is but to follow according to our understanding, as far as it can follow, and as much as we can perceive in it. Whatsoever is beyond it, is monstrous and disordered. By this account all shall then be monstrous, to the wisest and most sufficient; for even to such, human reason hath persuaded, that she had neither ground nor footing, no not so much as to warrant snow to be white: And Anaxagoras said, it was black; Whether there be any thing or nothing; Whether there be knowledge or ignorance; Which Metrodorus Chius denied, that any man might say. Or whether we live as Euripides seemeth to doubt, and call in question, whether the life we live be a life or no, or whether that which we call death be a life: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Pla●. Gerg ●x Eurip. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Who knows if thus to live, be called death, And if it be to die, thus to draw breath? And not without appearance. For, wherefore do we from that instant take a title of being, which is but a twinkling in the infinite course of an eternal night, and so short an interruption of our perpetual and natural condition? Death possessing whatever is before and behind this moment, and also a good part of this moment. Some others affirm, there is no motion, and that nothing stirreth; namely those which follow Melissus. For if there be but 〈…〉 this spherical motion serve him, nor the moving from one place to another, as Plato proveth, that there is neither generation nor corruption in nature. Protagoras saith, there is nothing in Nature, but doubt: That a man may equally dispute of all things: and of that also, whether all things may equally be disputed of: Mansiphanes said, that of things which seem to be, no one thing, is no more, than it is not. That nothing is certain, but uncertainty. Parmenides, that of that which seemeth, there is no one thing in General. That there is but one Zeno, that one self same is not: And that there is nothing. If one were he should either be in another, or in himself: if he be in another, then are they two: If he be in himself, they are also two, the comprising and the comprised. According to these rules or doctrines, the Nature of things is but a false or vain shadow. I have ever thought, this manner of speech in a Christian, is full of indiscretion and irreverence; God cannot die, God cannot gainsay himself, God cannot do this or that. I cannot allow, a man should so bond Gods heavenly power under the Laws of our word. And that appearance, which in these propositions offers itself unto us, aught to be represented more reverently and more religiously. Our speech hath his infirmities and defects, as all things else have. Most of the occasions of this world's troubles are Grammatical. Our suits and processes proceed but from the canvasing and debating the interpretation of the Laws, and most of our wars from the want of knowledge in State-counsellors, that could not clearly distinguish and fully express the Covenants, and Conditions of accords, between Prince and Prince. How many weighty strifes, and important quarrels, bathe the doubt of this one silable, Hoc, brought forth in the world? examine the plainest sentence, that Logic itself can present unto us. If you say, it is fair Wether, and in so saying, say true; it is fair Wether then. Is not thy a certain form of speech? Yet will it deceive us: That it is so; Let us follow the example: If you say, I lie, and that you should say true, you lie then. The Art, the reason, the force of the conclusion of this last, are like unto the other; notwithstanding we are entangled. I see the Pyrhonian Philosophers, who can by no manner of speech express their General conceit: for, they had need of a new language. Ours is altogether composed of affirmative propositions, which are directly against them. So that, when they say, I doubt, you have them fast by the throat to make them a vow, that at least you are assured and know, that they doubt. So have they been compelled to save themselves by this comparison of Physic, without which their conceit would be inexplicable and intricate. When they pronounce, I know not, or I doubt, they say, that this proposition transports itself together with the rest, even as the rhubarb doth, which scoured ill humours away, and therewith is carried away himself. This conceit is more certainly conceived by an interrogation: What can I tell? As I bear it in an Impreze of a pair of balances. Note how some prevail with this kind of unreverent and unhallowed speech. In the disputation, that are nowadays in our religion, if you overmuch urge the adversaries, they will roundly tell you, that it lieth not in the power of God to make his body at once to be in Paradise and on earth, and in many other places together. And how that ancient skoffer made profitable use of it. at least (saith he) it is no small comfort unto man, to see that God cannot do all things; for he cannot kill himself if he would, which is the greatest benefit we have in our condition; he cannot make mortal men immortal, nor raise the dead to life again, nor make him that hath lived, never to have lived, and him, who hath had honours, not to have had them, having no other right over what is past, but of sorgetfulnesse. And that this society between God and Man; may also be combined with some pleasant examples, he cannot make twice ten not to be twenty. See what he saith and which a Christian ought to abhor, that ever such and so profane words should pass his mouth: Whereas on the contrary part, it seemeth that fond men endeavour to find out this foolish-boldnesse of speech, that so they may turn and wind God almighty according to their measure. — cras vel atra Hor. car. l. 3. od. 29. 43. Nube polum pater occupato, Vel sole puro, non tamen irritum Quodeúmque retro est efficiet, neque Diffinget infectúmque reddet Quod fugiens semel hora vexit. To morrow let our father fill the sky, With dark cloud, or with clear Sun, he thereby Shall not'make void what once is overpast: Nor shall he undo, or in new mould cast, What time hath once caught; that flies hence so fast. When we say, that the infinity of ages, as well past as to come, is but one instant with God; that his wisdom, goodness and power, are one selfsame thing with his essence; our tongue speakes-it, but our understanding can no whit apprehend it. Yet will our self-overweening sift his divinity through our searce: whence are engendered all the vanities and errors wherewith the world is so full-fraught, reducing and weighing with his uncertain balance, a thing so far from his reach, and so distant from his weight. Mirum Pli●. nat. hist. l. 2. c. 23. quò procedat improbitas cordis humani, parvulo aliquo invitata successu. It is a wonder, whether the perverse wickedness of man's heart will proceed, if it be but calledon with any little success. How insolently do the stoics charge Epicurus, because he holds, that to be perfectly good and absolutely happy, belongs but only unto God; and that the wiseman hath but a shadow and similitude thereof? How rashly have they joined God unto destiny? (Which at my request, let none that beareth the surname of a Christian, do at this day) And Thales, Plato, and Pythagoras have subjected him unto necessity. This overboldness, or rather bold-fiercensse, to seek to discover God, by and with our eyes, hath been the cause, that a notable man of our times hath attributed a corporal form unto divinity and is the cause of that which daily happeneth unto us, which is, by a particular assignation, to impute all important events to God: which because they touch us, it seemeth they also touch him, and that he regardeth them with more care and attention, than those that are but slight and ordinary unto us. Magna dij curant, parva negligunt. The Gods take some care for great things, but none Cic. Nat. D●●r. lib. 2. Cic. ib. lib. 3. for little. Note his example; he will enlighten you with his reason. Nec inregnis quidem reges omnia minima curant. Nor do Kings in their Kingdoms much care for the least matters. As if it were all one to that King, either to remove an Empire, or a leaf of a tree: and if his providence were otherwise exercised, inclining or regarding no more the success of a battle, than the skip of a flea. The hand of his government affords itself to all things after a like tenure, fashion and order; our interest addeth nothing unto it: our motions and our measures concern him nothing and move him no whit. Deus it a artifex magnus in magnis, ut minor non sit in parvis. God is so great a workman in great things, as he is no less in small things. Our arrogancy, setteth ever before us this blasphemous equality; because our occupations chargeus. State hath presented the Gods with all immunity of offices, as are their Priests. He maketh nature to produce and preserve all things, and by her weights and motions to compact all parts of the world, discharging human nature from the fear of divine judgements. Cic. ib. lib. 1. Quod beatum aeternumque sit, id nec habere, negotij quicquam, ne● exhibere alteri. That which is blessed and eternal, nor is troubled itself, nor troubleth others. Nature willeth that in all things alike, there be also like relation. Then the infinite number of mortal men, concludeth a like number of immortal.: The infinite things that kill and destroy, presuppose as many that preserve and profit. As the souls of the Gods, sans tongues, sans eyes and sans ears, have each one in themselves a feeling of that which the other feel, and judge of our thoughts; so men's souls, when they are free and severed from the body, either by sleep or any distraction; divine, prognosticate and see things, which being conjoined to their bodies, they could not see. Men (saith Saint Paul) when they professed themselves to be Run. 1. 22. 23. wise, they became fools, for they turned the glory of the incorruptible God to the similitude of the image of a corruptible man. Mark I pray you a little the juggling of ancient Deifications. After the great, solemn and proud pomp of funerals, when the fire began to burn the top of the Pyramid: and to take hold of the bed or hearse wherein the dead, corpse lay, even at that instant, they let fly an Eagle, which taking her flight aloft upward, signified that the soul went directly to Paradise. We have yet a thousand medailes and monuments, namely of that honest woman Faustina, wherein that Eagle is represented, carrying a cockhorse up towards heaven those Deified souls. It is pity we should so deceive ourselves with our own foolish devises and apish inventions, Quod finxere timent— Lucan. l. 1. 484 Of that they stand in fear, Which they in fancy bear. as children will be afeard of their fellows visage, which themselves have besmeared and blacked. Quasi quicquam infoelicius sit homine, cui sua figment a dominantur. As though any thing were more wretched than man over whom his own imaginations bear sway and domineer. To honour him whom we have made, is far from honouring him that hath made us. Augustus had as many Temples as jupiter, and served with as much religion and opinion of miracles. The Thracians, in requital of the benefits they had received of Agesilaus, came to tell him how they had canonised him. Hath your Nation (said he) the power to make those whom it pleaseth, Gods: Then first (for example sake) make one of yourselves, and when I shall have seen what good he shall have thereby, I will then thank you for your offer. Oh senseless man, who can not possibly make a worm, and yet will make Gods by dozen. Listen to Trismegistus when he praiseth our sufficiency: For man to find out divine nature, and to make it, hath surmounted the admiration of all admirable things. Lo here arguments out of Philosophies schools itself, Noscere cui Divos & coelinumina soli, Lucan. lib. 1. 452. Aut solinescire datum. Only to whom heavens Deities to know, Only to whom is given, them not to know. If God be, he is a living creature; if he be a living creature, he hath sense; and if he have sense, he is subject to corruption. If he be without a body, he is without a soul, and consequently without action: and if he have a body, he is corruptible. Is not this brave? we are incapable to have made the world, then is there some more excellent nature, that hath set her helping hand unto it. Were it not a sottish arrogancy, that we should think ourselves to be the perfectest thing of this Universe? Then sure there is some better thing, And that is God. When you see a rich and stately Mansion house, although you know not who is owner of it, yet will you not say, that it was built for Rats. And this more than human frame, and divine composition, which we see, of heaven's palace, must we not deem it to be the mansion of some Lord, greater than ourselves? Is not the highest ever the most worthy? And we are seated in the lowest place. Nothing that is without a soul and void of reason, is able to bring forth a living soul capable of reason. The world doth bring us forth, than the world hath both soul and reason. Each part of us, is less than ourselves, we are part of the world, than the world is stored with wisdom and with reason, and that more plenteously, than we are. It is a goodly thing to have a great government. Then the world's government belongeth to some blessed and happy nature. The stars annoy us not, than the stars are full of goodness. We have need of nourishment, than so have the Gods, and feed themselves with the vapours arising here below. Worldly goods, are not goods unto God. Then are not they goods unto us. To offend and to be offended, are equal witnesses of imbecility; Then it is folly to fear God. God is good by his own nature, man by his industry: which is more? Divine wisdom and man's wisdom, have no other distinction, but that the first is eternal. Now lastingness it not an accession unto wisdom. Therefore are we fellows. We have life, reason and liberty, we esteem goodness, charity and justice; these qualities are then in him. In conclusion the building and destroying the conditions of divinity, are forged by man according to the relation to himself. Oh what a pattern, and what a model! Let us raise, and let us amplify human qualities as much as we please. Puffe-up thyself poor man, yea swell and swell again. — non si te ruperis, inquit. Hor. serm. lib. 2. sat. 3. 324. Swell till you break, you shall not be, Equal to that great one, quoth he. Profectò non Deùm, quem cogitare non possunt, sed semetipsos pro illo cogitantes, nonillum; sed seipsos, non ills, sed sibi comparant. Of a truth, they conceiting, not God, whom they cannot conceive, but themselves instead of God, do not compare him, but themselves, not to him, but themselves. In natural things the effects do but half refer their causes. What this? It is above nature's order its condition is to high, to far out of reach, and overswaying to endure, that our conclusions should seize upon, or fetter the same. It is not by our means we reach unto it, this train is too low. We are no nearer heaven on the top of Sina mount, then in the bottom of the deepest Sea: Consider of it, that you may see with your Astrolabe. They bring God even to the carnal acquaintance of women, to a prefixed number of times, and to how many generations. Paulina, wife unto Saturninus, a matron of great reputation in Rome, supposing to lie with the God Serapis, by the maquerelage of the Priests of that Temple, found hi● self in the arms of a wanton lover of hers. Varro the most subtle, and wisest Latin Author, in his books of divinity writeth, that Hercules his Sextaine, with one hand casting lots for himself, and with the other for Hercules, gauged a supper and a wench against him: if he won, at the charge of his offerings, but if he lost, at his own cost. He lost and paid for a supper and a wench: Her name was Laurentina: Who by night saw that God in her arms, saying moreover unto her, that the next day, the first man she met withal, should heavenly pay her her wages. It fortuned to be one Taruncius, a very rich youngman, who took her home with him, and in time left her absolute heir of all he had. And she, when it came to her turn, hoping to do that God some acceptable service, left the Roman people heir general of all her wealth: And therefore had she divine honours attributed unto her. As if it were not sufficient for Plato to descend originally from the Gods; by a twofold line, and to have Neptune for the common Author of his race. It was certainly believed at Athens, that Ariston desiring to enjoy fair Perictyone, he could not, and that in his dream he was warned by God Apollo, to leave her untouched and unpolluted, until such time as she were brought a bed. And these were the father and mother of Plato. How many suchlike cuckoldries are there in histories, procure be the Gods against silly mortal men? And husbands most injuriously blazoned in favour of their children? In Mah●mets religion, by the easy belief of that people are many Merlin's found; That is to say fatherless children: Spiritual children, conceived and borne divinely in the wombs of virgins, and that in their language bear names, importing as much▪ We must note, that nothing is more dear and precious to any thing, then it's own being (the Lion, the Eagle and the Dolphin esteem nothing above their kind) each thing referreth the qualities of all other things unto her own conditions, which we may either amplify or shorten; but that is all: for besides this principle, and out of this reference, our imagination cannot go, and guess further: and it is unpossible it should exceed that, or go beyond it: Whence arise these ancient conclusions. Of all forms, that of man is the fairest: Then God is of this form. No man can be happy without virtue, nor can virtue be without reason; And no reason can lodge but in a human shape: God is then invested with a human figure. Ita est informatum anticipatum mentibus nostris, ut homini, quum de Deo Cit nat. Deo. lib. 1. cogitet, forma occurrat humana. The prejudice forestaled in our minds is so framed, as the form of man comes to man's mind, when he is thinking of God. Therefore Xenophanes said pleasantly, that if beasts frame any Gods unto themselves, (as likely it is they do) they surely frame them like unto themselves, and glorify themselves as we do. For, why may not a Goose say thus? All parts of the world behold me, the earth serveth me to tread upon, the Sun to give me light, the stars to inspire we with influence: this commodity I have of the winds, and this benefit of the waters; there is nothing that this worlds-vaulte doth so favourably look upon, as myself; I am the favourite of nature: Is it not man that careth for me, that keepeth me, lodgeth me, and serveth me? For me it is he soweth, reapeth and grindeth: If he eat me, so doth man feed on his fellow, and so do I on the worms, that consume and eat him. As much might a Crane say, yea and more boldly, by reason of her flights-libertie, and the possession of this goodly and high-bownding region. Tam blanda conciliatrix, & tam sui est Cit nat. Deo. ib lena ipsa natura. So flattering a broker, and bawd (as it were) is nature to itself, Now by the same consequence, the destinies are for us, the world is for us; it shineth, and thundereth for us: Both the creator and the creatures are for us: It is the mark and point whereat the university of things aimeth. Survey but the register, which Philosophy hath kept these two thousand years and more, of heavenly affairs. The Gods never acted, and never spoke, but for man: She ascribeth no other consultation, nor imputeth other vacation unto them. Lo how they are up in arms against us. — domitósque Herculeâ manu H●r. ●●r. l. 2. ●d. 12. 6. Telluris iuvenes, unde periculum Fulgens contremuit domus Saturni veteris. And young earth-gallants tamed by the hand Of Hercules, whereby the habitation Of old Saturnus did in peril stand, And, shined it ne'er so bright, yet feared invasion. See how they are partakers▪ of our troubles, that so they may be even with us, forsomuch as so many times we are partakers of theirs. Neptunus' muros magnòque ●mota trident● Virg. Ae●. lib. 2. 610. Fundamenta quatit totàmque á sedibus urbem Eruit: hîc juno Scaeas saevissima portas Prima tenet.— Neptunus with his great three-forked ma●● Shakes the weak wall, and t●ttering foundation, And from the site the City doth displace, Fierce juno first holds-ope the gates t'invasion. The Caunians, for the jealousy of their own God's domination, upon their devotion-day arm themselves, and running up and down, brandishing and striking the air with their glaives, and in this earnest manner they expel all foreign, and banish all strange Gods from out their territory. Their powers are limited according to our necessity. Some heal Horses, some cure men, some the plague, some the scaled, some the cough, some one kind of scab, and some another: Adeo m●●imis ●t●am rebus prava religio inserit Deos: This corrupt religion engageth and inserteth Gods even in the least matters: Some make grapes to grow, and some garlic; Some have the charge of bawdry and uncleanness, and Some of merchandise: To every kind of tradesman a God. Some one hath his province and credit in the East, and some in the West: — hîc illius arma Virg. Ae●. li●▪ 1. 10. Hîc currus fuit— His armour here His char●orts there appear. O sancte Apollo▪ qui umbilicum certum terrarum obtines. Cic. diu. lib. 2. Sacred Apollo, who enfoldest, The earth's set n●vell, and it holdest. Pallada Cecropidae, Minoya Creta Dianam, O●id. Fas●. lib. 3. 81. Vulcanum tellus Hipsipil●a colit. junonem Sparte, Pelopeiadèsque Mycenae, Pinigerum Fauni M●nalis ora caput: Mars Latio venerandus.— Besmeared with blood and gore. Th'Athenians Pallas; Minos-Candy cost Diana; Lemnos Vulcan honour's most▪ Mycenae and Sparta, juno think divine; The coast of Maenalus Faun crowned with pine; Latium doth Mars adore. Some hath but one borough or family in his possession: Some lodgeth alone, and some in company, either voluntarily or necessarily. junctàque sunt magno templa nepotis avo. lib. 1. 294. To the great grandsires shrine, The nephew's temples do combine. Some there are so silly and popular (for their number amounteth to six and thirty thousand) that five or six of them must be shuffled up to gether to produce an ear of corn, and thereof they take their several names. Three to a door; one to be the boards, one to be the hinges, and the third to the threshold. Four to a child, as protectors of his bandels, of his drink, of his meat and of his sucking. Some are certain, others uncertane, some doubtful; and some that come not yet into paradise. Quos, quoniam caeli nondum dignamur honore, Ovid. M●tam. ●●b. 1. 194. Quas dedimus certè terras, habitare sinamus. Whom for as yet with heaven we have not graced, Let them on earth by our good grant be placed. There are some Philosophical, some poetical, and some civil, some of a mean condition, between divine and human nature, mediators, and spokes▪ men between us and God: worshipped in a kind of second or diminutive order of adoration: infinite in titles and offices: some good, some bad; some old and crazed, and some mortal. For Chrysippus' thought, that in the last conflagration or burning of the world, all the Gods should have an end, except jupiter. Man feigneth a thousand pleasant societies between God and him. Nay is he not his countryman? — lovis incunabul● Creten. Ovid Met. l. 8. 99 The I'll of famous Crect, For love a cradle meet. Behold the excuse, that Scaevola chief Bishop, and Varro, a great Divine in their days, give us upon the consideration of this subject. It is necessary (say they) that man be altogether ignorant of true things, and believe many false. Quum veritatem quâ liberetur, inquirat: credatur ei exp●dire, quod fallitur. Since they seek the truth, whereby they may be free, let us believe it is expedient for them, to be deceived. Man's eye cannot perceive things, but by the forms of his knowledge. And we remember not the downfall of miserable Phaeton, forsomuch as he undertook to guide the reins of his father's steeds, with a mortal hand. Ou● mind doth still relapse into the same depth, and by her own temerity doth dissipate and bruise itself. If you inquire of Philosophy, what matter the Sun is composed-of? What will it answer, but of iron and stone, or other stuff for his use? Demand of Zeno, what Nature is? A fire (saith he) an Artist, fit to engender, and proceeding orderly. Archimedes master of this Science, and who in truth and certainty assumeth unto himself a precedency above all others, saith, the Sun is a God of enflamed-yron. Is not this a acquaint imagination, produced by the inevitable necessity of Geometrical demonstrations? Yet not so unavoidable and beneficial, but Socrates hath been of opinion, that it sufficed to know so much of it as that a man might measure out the land, he either demised or took to rend: and that Polyaenus, who therein had been a famous and principal Doctor, after he had tasted the sweet fruits of the lazy, idle and delicious gardens of Epicurus, did not contemn them, as full of falsehood and apparent vanity. Socrates in Xenophon, upon this point of Anaxagoras, allowed and esteemed of antiquity, well seen and expert above all others in heavenly and divine matters, saith, that he weakened his brains much, as all men do, who over nicely and greedily will search out those knowledges, which hang not for their mowing, nor pertain unto them. When he would needs have the Sun to be a burning stone, he remembered not, that a stone doth not shine in the fire; and which is more, that it consumes therein. And when he made the Sun and fire to be all one, he forgot, that fire doth not tan and black those he looketh upon; that we fixly look upon the fire, and that fire consumeth and killeth all plants and herbs. According to the advice of Socrates and mine, The wisest judging of heaven, is not to judge of it at all. Plato in his Timeus, being to speak of Doemons and spirits, saith, it is an enterprise far exceeding my skill and ability: we must believe what those ancient forefathers have said of them, who have said to have been engendered by them. It is against reason not to give credit unto the children of the Gods although their sayings be neither grounded upon necessary, nor likely reasons, since they tell us, that they speak of familiar and household matters. Let us see, whether we have a little more insight in the knowledge of human and natural things. Is it not a fond enterprise, to those unto which, by our own confession, our learning cannot possible attain, to divise and forge them another body, and of our own invention to give them a false form? as is seen in the planetary motions, unto which because our mind cannot reach, nor imagine their natural conduct, we lend them something of ours, that is to say, material, gross and corporal springs and wards: — temo aureus, aurea summ● Orid. Met. l. 2. 107. Curvatura rotae, radiorum argenteus ordo. The Axletree gold, the wheels whole circle gold, The rank of rays did all of silver hold. you would say, we have had Coach-makers, Carpenters, and Painters, who have gone up thither, and there have placed engines with divers motions, and ranged the wheelings, the windings, and enterlacements of the celestial bodies diapered in colours, according to Plato, about the spindle of necessity. Mundus domus est maxi●a rerum, Quam quinque altitonae fragmine zon● Cingunt, per quam li●bus pictus bis sex signis, Stellimicantibus, alius in obliquo aethere, Lunae Bigas acceptat. The world, of things the greatest habitation, Which five highthundring Zones by separation Engirde, through which a scarf depainted fair With twice six signs star-shining in the air. Obliquely raised, the wain O'th'Moone doth entertain. They are all dreams, and mad follies. Why will not nature one day be pleased to open her bosom to us, and make us perfectly see the means and conduct of her motions, and enable our eyes to judge of them? Oh good God, what abuses, and what distractions should we find in our poor understanding, and weak knowledge▪ I am deceived, if she hold one thing directly in its point; and I shall part hence more ignorant of all other things, than mine ignorance. Have I not seen this divine saying in Plato, that Nature is nothing but an enigmatical poesy? As a man might say, an overshadowed and dark picture, enter-shining with an infinite variety of false lights, to exercise our conjectures. Latent ista omnia Ci●. Acad. q. lib. 4. crassi● occultata & circumfusa tenebris ut nulla acies humani ingenij tanta sit, quae penetrare in coelum, terram intrare possit. All these things lie hid so veiled and environed with misty darkness, as no edge of man is so piersant, as it can pass into heaven, or dive into the earth. And truly, Philosophy is nothing else but a sophisticated poesy: whence have these ancient Authors all their authorities, but from Poets? And the first were Poets themselves, and in their Art treated the same. Plato is but a loose Poet. All high and more than human Sciences are decked and enrobed with a Poetical style. Even as women, when their natural teeth fail them, use some of ivory, and in stead of a true beauty, or lively colour, layon some artificial hue; and as they make trunk-sleeves of wire and whale-bone bodies, backs of lathes, and stiff bombasted verdugals, and to the open-view of all men paint and embellish themselves with counterfeit and borrowed beauties; so doth learning (and our law hath, as some say, certain lawful fictions, on which it groundeth the truth of justice) which in lieu of currant payment and presupposition, delivereth us those things, which she herself teacheth us to be mere inventions: For, these Epicycles, Excentriques, and Concentriques, which Astrology useth to direct the state and motions of her stars, she giveth them unto us, as the best she could ever invent, to fit and suit unto this subject: as in all things else, Philosophy presenteth unto us, not that which is, or she believeth, but what she inventeth, as having most appearance, likely hood, or comeliness. Plato upon the discourse of our bodies-estate, and of that of beasts: That what we have said, is true, we would be assured of it, had we but the confirmation of some oracle, to confirme-it. This only we warrant, that it is the likeliest we could say. It is not to heaven alone, that she sendeth her cordages, her engines, and her wheels: Let us but somewhat consider, what she saith of ourselves, and of our contexture. There is no more retorgradation, trepidation, augmentation, recoiling, and violence in the stars and celestial bodies, than they have feigned and devised in this poor seely little body of man. Verily they have thence had reason to name it Microcosmos, or little world, so many several parts and visages have they employed to fashion and frame the same. To accommodate the motions which they see in man, the diverse functions and faculties, that we feel in ourselves; Into how many several parts have they divided our soul? Into how many seats have they placed her? Into how many orders, stages, and stations have they divided this wretched man, beside the natural and perceptible? and to how many distinct offices and vacation? They make a public imaginary thing of it. It is a subject, which they hold and handle: they have all power granted them, to rip him, to sever him, to range him, to join and reunite him together again, and to stuff him, every one according to his fantasy, and yet they neither have not possess him. They cannot so order or rule him, not in truth only, but in imagination, but still some cadence or sound is discovered, which escapeth their architecture, bad as it is, and botched together with a thousand false patches, and fantastical pieces. And they have no reason to be excused: For, to Painters, when they portray the heaven, the earth, the seas, the hills, the scattered islands, we pardon them, if they but represent us with some slight appearance of them; and as of things unknown we are contented with such feigned shadows: But when they draw us, or any other subject that is familiarly known unto us, to the life, then seek we to draw from them a perfect and exact representation of theirs or our true lineaments, or colours; and scorn if they miss never so little. I commend the Milesian wench, who seeing Thales the Philosopher continually ammusing himself in the contemplation of heavens-wide-bounding vault, and ever holding his eyes aloft, laid something in his way to make him stumble, thereby to warn and put him in mind, that he should not ammuse his thoughts about matters above the clouds, before he had provided for, and well considered those at his feet. Verily she advised him well, and it better became him, rather to look to himself then to gaze on heaven; For, as Democritus by the mouth of Cicero saith, Quod est ante pedes, nemo spectat: coeli scrutantur plagas, Cic. div. lib. 2. No man looks, what before his feet doth lie, They seek and search the climates of the sky. But our condition beareth, that the knowledge of what we touch with our hands, and have amongst us, is as far from us and above the clouds, as that of the stars: As saith Socrates in Plato, That one may justly say to him who meddleth with Philosophy, as the woman said to Thales, which is, he seeth nothing of that which is before him. For, every Philosopher is ignorant of what his neighbour doth, yea, he knows not what himself doth, and wots not what both are, whether beasts or men. These people who think Sebondes reasons to be weak and lame, who know nothing themselves, and yet will take upon them to govern the world and know all: Quae mare compescant causae, quid temperet annum, Hor. li. 1. epist. 12. 16. Stellae sponte sua, iussaeve vagentur & errent: Quid praemat obscurum Lunae, quid proferat orbem, Quid velit & possit rerum concordia discors. What cause doth calm the Sea, what clears the year, Whether Stars forced, or of self-will appear: What makes the moons dark Orb towax or wane, What friendly feud of things both will and can. Did they never sound amid their books, the difficulties that present themselves to them, to know their own being? We see very well, that our finger stirreth, and our foot moveth, that some parts of our body, move of themselves without our leave, and other some that stir but at our pleasure: and we see that certain apprehensions engender a blushing-red colour, others a paleness; that some imagination doth only work in the milt, another in the brain; some one enduceth us to laugh, another causeth us to weep; some astonished and stupifieth all our senses, and stayeth the motion of all our limbs: at some object the stomach riseth, and at some other the lower parts. But how a spiritual impression causeth or worketh such a dent or flaw in a massy and solid body or subject, and the nature of the conjoining, and compacting of these admirable springs and wards, man yet never knew: Omnia incerta Plin. ratione, & in nature maiestate abdita. All uncertain in reason, and hid in the majesty of nature, Saith Pliny and Saint Augustine, Modus, quo corporibus adbaerent spiritus, omnino mirus est, nec comprehendi Aug. de spir & anim. ab homine potest, & hoc ipse homo est. The mean is clearly wonderful, whereby spirits cleave to our bodies, nor can it be comprehended by man, and that is very man. Yet is there no doubt made of him: For men's opinions are received after ancient beliefs, by authority and upon credit; as if it were a religion and a law. What is commonly held of it, is received as a gibberish or fustian tongue. This truth with all her framing of arguments, and proporcioning of proofs, is received as a firm and solid body, which is no more shaken, which is no more judged. On the other side, every one, the best he can, patcheth-up and comforteth this received belief, with all the means his reason can afford him, which is an instrument very supple, pliable, and yielding to all shapes. Thus is the world filled with toys, and overwhelmed in lies and leafing- The reason that men doubt not much of things, is that common impressions are never thoroughly tried and sifted, their ground is not sounded, nor where the fault & weakness lieth: Men only debate and question of the branch, not of the tree: They ask not whether a thing be true, but whether it was understood or meant thus and thus. They inquire not whether Galen hath spoken any thing of worth, but whether thus, or so, or otherwise. Truly there was some reason, this bridle or restraint of our judgements liberty, and this tyranny over our beliefs should extend itself even to schools and arts. The God of scholastical learning, is Aristotle: It is religion to debate of his ordinances, as of those of Lycurgus in Sparta. His doctrine is to us as a canon Law, which peradventure is as false as another. I know not why I should or might not, as soon, & as easy accept, either Plato's Ideas, or Epicurus his Atoms and indivisible things, or the fullness and emptiness of Leucippus and Democritus, or the water of Thales, or of Anaximanders infinite of nature, or the air of Diogenes, or the numbers or proportion of Pythagoras, or the infinite of Parmenides, or the single-one of Musaeus, or the water and fire of Apollodorus, or the similarie and resembling parts of Anaxagoras, or the discord and concord of Empedocles, or the fire of Heraclitus, or any other opinion (of this infinite confusion of opinions and sentences, which this goodly human reason, by her certainty and clear-sighted vigilancy brings forth in whatsoever it meddleth withal) as I should of Aristotle's conceit, touching this subject of the principles of natural things; which he frameth of three parts, that is to say, Matter, Form, and Privation. And what greater vanity can there be, then to make inanity itself the cause of the production of things? Privation is a negative: With what humour could he make it the cause and beginning of things that are? Yet durst no man move that but for an exercise of Logic: Wherein nothing is disputed to put it in doubt, but to descend the Author of the School from strange objections: His authority is the mark, beyond which it is not lawful to inquire. It is easy to frame what one list upon allowed foundations: For, according to the law and ordinance of this positive beginning, the other parts of the frame are easily directed without crack or danger. By which way we find our reason well grounded, and we discourse without rub or let in the way: For our masters preoccupate and gain aforehand as much place in our belief, as they need to conclude afterward what they please, as Geometricians do by their granted questions: The consent and approbation which we lend them, giving them wherewith to draw us, either on the right or left hand, and at their pleasure to wind and turn us. Whosoever is believed in his presuppositions, he is our master, and our god: He will lay the plot of his foundations so ample and easy, that, if he list, he will carry us up, even unto the clouds. In this practice or negotiation of learning, we have taken the saying of Pythagoras for currant payment; which is, that every expert man ought to be believed in his own trade. The Logician referreth himself to the Grammarian for the signification of words: The Rhetorician borroweth the places of arguments from the Logician: The Poet his measures from the physician: The Geometrician his proportions from the Arithmetician: The Metaphisikes' take the conjectures of the Physic's for a ground. For, every art hath her presupposed principles, by which man's judgement is bridled on all parts. If you come to the shock or front of this bar, in which consists the principal error, they immediately pronounce this sentence; That there is no disputing against such as deny principles. There can be no principles in men, except divinity hath revealed them unto them: All the rest, both beginning, middle, and end, is but a dream and a vapour. Those that argue by presupposition, we must presuppose against them, the very same axiom, which is disputed of. For, each human presupposition, and every invention, unless reason make a difference of it, hath as much authority as another. So must they all be equally balanced, and first the general & those that tyrannize us. A persuasion of certainty, is a manifest testimony of foolishness, and of extreme uncertainty. And no people are less Philosophers and more foolish, than Plato's Phylodoxes, or lovers of their own opinions. We must know whether fire be hot, whether snow be white, whether in our knowledge there be any thing hard or soft. And touching the answers, whereof they tell old tales, as to him who made a doubt of heat, to whom one replied, that to try he should cast himself into the fire; to him that denied the ice to be cold, that he should put some in his bosom; they are most unworthy the profession of a Philosopher. If they had left us in our own natural estate, admitting of strange appearances, as they present themselves unto us by our senses, and had suffered us to follow our natural appetites, directed by the condition of our birth, they should then have reason to speak so. But from them it is that we have learned to become judges of the world; it is from them we hold this conceit, that man's reason is the general controuler of all that is, both without and within heavens-vault; which embraceth all, and can do all, by means whereof, all things are known and discerned. This answer were good among the Cannibals, who without any of Aristotle's precepts, or so much as knowing the name of natural Philosophy, enjoy most happily, a long, a quiet, & a peaceable life. This answer might happily avail more, and be of more force, than all those they can borrow from their reason and invention. All living creatures, yea, beasts and all, where the commandment of the natural law is yet pure and simple, might with us be capable of this answer; but they have renounced it. They shall not need to tell me, it is true, for you both hear and see, that it is so: They must tell me, if what I think I feel, I feel the same in effect; and if I feel it, then let them tell me, wherefore I feel it, and how and what: Let them tell me the name, the beginning, the tennons, and the abutting of heat and of cold, with the qualities of him that is agent, or of the patient; or let them quit me their profession, which is neither to admit, nor approve any thing, but by the way of reason: It is their touch stone, to try all kinds of Essays. But surely it is a touchstone full of falsehood, errors, imperfection and weakness: which way can we better make trial of it, then by itself? If she may not be credited speaking of herself, hardly can she be fit to judge of strange matters: If she know any thing, it can be but her being and domicile. She is in the soul, and either a part or effect of the same. For, the true and essential reason (whose name we steal by false signs) lodgeth in God's bosom: There is her home, and there is her retreat, thence she takes her sight, when God's pleasure is that we shall see some glimpse of it: Even as Pallas issued out of her father's head, to communicate and impart herself unto the world. Now let us see what man's reason hath taught us of herself and of the soul: Not of the soul in general, whereof well nigh all Philosophy maketh both the celestial and first bodies partakers; nor of that which Thales attributed even unto things, that are reputed without soul or life, drawn thereunto by the consideration of the Adamant stone: But of that which appertaineth to us, and which we should know best. Ignoratur enim quae sit natura animai, Lucr. li. 1. 113. Nata sit, an contrá nascentibus insinuetur, Et simul inter eat nobiscum morte dirempta, An tenebr as orci visat, vastásque lacunas, An pecudes alias divinitùs insinuet se. What the soul's nature is, we do not know; If it be bred, or put in those are bred, Whether by death divorced with us it go, Or see the dark vast lakes of hell be low, Or into other creatures turn the head. To Crates and Dicaearchus it seemed that there was none at all; but that the body stirred thus with and by a natural motion: To Plato, that it was a substance moving of itself: To Thales, a Nature without rest; To Asclepiades, an exercitation of the senses: To Hesiodus and Anaximander, a thing composed of earth and water: To Parmenides, of earth and fire: To Empedocles of blood: Sanguineam vomit ille animam— Vir. Aen. li. 9 349. His soul of purple-bloud he vomits out. To Possidonius, Cleanthes, and Galen, a heat, or hot complexion: Igneus est ollis vigour, & coelestis origo: Lib. 6. 730. A fiery vigour and celestial spring, In their original they strangely bring. To Hippocrates, a spirit dispersed through the body: To Varro, an air received-in at the mouth, heated in the lungs, tempered in the heart, and dispersed through all parts of the body: To Zeno, the quintessence of the four Elements: To Heraclides Ponticus, the light: To Xenocrates, and to the Egyptians, a moving number: To the Chaldeans, a virtue without any determinate form.— Habitum quendam vitalem corporis esse, Harmoniam Graeci quam dicunt— Lucr. li. 3. 100 There of the body is a vital frame, The which the Greeks a harmony do name. And not forgetting Aristotle, that which naturally causeth the body to move, who calleth it Entelechy, or perfection moving of itself (as cold an invention as any other) for he neither speaketh of the essence, nor of the beginning, nor of the soul's nature; but only noteth the effects of it: Lactantius, Seneca, and the better part amongst the Dogmatists, have confessed, they never understood what it was: And after all this rabble of opinions: Harum Cic. Tus. qu. l. 1. sententiarum quae vera sit, Deus aliquis viderit▪ Which of these opinions is true, let some God look unto. it, (saith Cicero.) I know by myself (quoth Saint Bernard) how God is incomprehensible, Saint Bernard. since I am not able to comprehend the parts of mine own being: Heraclitus, who held that every place was full of Souls and Daemons, maintained nevertheless, that a man could never go so far towards the knowledge of the soul, as that he could come unto it; so deep and mysterious was her essence. There is no less dissension nor disputing about the place, where she should be seated. Hypocrates and Herophilus place it in the ventricle of the brain: Democritus and Aristotle, through all the body: Lucr. li. 3. 103. Vt bonasaepe valetudo cum dicitur esse Corporis, & non est tamen haec pars ulla valentis. As health is of the body said to be, Yet is no part of him, in health we see. Epicurus in the stomach. Haec exultat enim pavor ac met us, haec loca circùm 142. Laetitiae mulcent— For in these places fear doth domineer, And near these places joy keeps merry cheer. The Stoics, within and about the heart: Erasistratus, joining the membrane of the Epicranium: Empedocles, in the blood: as also Mois●s, which was the cause he forbade the eating of beasts blood, unto which their soul is commixed: Galen thought that every part of the body had his soul: S●rato hath placed it between the two upper eyelids: Qua fancy Cic. Tuse. qu. lib. 1. quidem sit animus aut ubi habitet, nec quaerendum quidem est. We must not so much as inquire, what face the min●e bears, or where it dwells: Saith Cicero. I am well pleased to let this man use his own words: For, why should I alter the speech of eloquence itself? since there is small gain in stealing matter from his inventions: They are both little used, not very forcible, and little unknown. But the reason why Chrysippus, and those of his Sect, will prove the soul to be about the heart, is not to be forgotten. It is (saith he) because when we will affirm or swear any thing, we lay our hand upon the stomach; And when we will pronounce, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which signifieth, myself, we put down our chin toward the stomach. This passage ought not to be pastover without noting the vanity of so great a parsonage: For, beside that his considerations are of themselves very slight, the latter proveth but to the Grecians, that they have their soul in that place. No human judgement is so vigilant or Argos-eied, but sometimes shall fall a sleep or s●umber. What shall we fear to say? Behold the Stoics, fathers of human wisdom, who devise that the soul of man, overwhelmed with any ruin, laboureth and panteth a long time to get out, unable to free herself from that charge, even as a Mouse taken in a trap. Some are of opinion, that the world was made, to give a body in am of punishment, unto the spirits, which through their fault were fallen from the purity, wherein they were created: The first creation having been incorporeal. And that according as they have more or less removed themselves from their spirituality, so are they more or less merrily and Giovially, or rudely & Saturnally incorporated: Whence proceedeth the infinite variety of so much matter created. But the spirit, who for his chastisement was invested with the body of the Sun, must of necessity have a very rare and particular measure of alteration. The extremities of our curious search turn to a glimmering and all to a dazzling. As Plutarch saith, of the offspring of Histories, that after the manner of Cards or Maps, the utmost limits of known Countries, are set down to be full of thick marish grounds, stadie forests, desert and uncouth places. See here wherefore the grossest and most Childish dote, are more commonly found in these which treat of highest and furthest matters; even confounding & overwhelming themselves in their own curiosity & presumption. The end and beginning of learning are equally accounted foolish. Mark but how Plato takethand raiseth his flight aloft in his Poetical clouds, or cloudy Poesies. Behold & read in him the gibberish of the Gods. But what dreamed or doted he on, when he defined man, to be a creature with two feet, and without feathers; giving them that were disposed to mock at him, a pleasant and scopefull occasion to doe-it? For, having plucked-off the feathers of a live capon, they named him the man of Plato. And by what simplicity did the Epicureans first imagine, that the Atoms or Motes, which they termed to be bodies, having some weight and a natural moving downward, had framed the world; until such time as they were advised by their adversaries, that by this description, it was not possible, they should join and take hold one of another; their fall being so downright and perpendicular, and every way engendering Parallel lines? And therefore was it necessary, they should afterward add a casual moving, sideling unto them: And moreover to give their Atoms crooked and forked tails, that so they might take hold of any thing and clasp themselves. And even then, those that pursue them with this other consideration, do they not much trouble them? If Atoms have by chance form so many sorts of figures, why did they never meet together to frame a house, or make a shoe? Why should we not likewise believe that an infinite number of greek Letters confusedly scattered in some open place, might one day meet and join together to the contexture of th'Iliads? That which is capable of reason (saith Zeno) is better than that which is not. There is nothing better than the world: then the world is capable of reason. By the same arguing Cotta maketh the world a Mathematician, and by this other arguing of Zeno, he makes him a Musician, and an Organist. The whole is more than the part: We are capable of Wisdom, and we are part of the World: Then the World is wise. There are infinite like examples seen, not only of false, but foolish arguments, which cannot hold, & which accuse their authors not so much of ignorance, as of folly, in the reproaches that Philosophers charge one another with, about the disagreings in their opinions and Sects. He that should fardle-up a bundle or huddle of the fooleries of man's wisdom, might recount wonders. I willingly assemble some (as a show or pattern) by some means or byase, no less profitable than the most moderate instructions. Let us by that judge, what we are to esteem of man, of his sense, and of his reason; since in these great men, and who have raised man's sufficiency so high, there are found so gross errors, and so apparent defects. As for me, I would rather believe, that they have thus casually treated learning, even as a sporting child's baby, and have sported themselves with reason, as of a vain and frivolous instrument, setting forth all sorts of inventions, devises, and fantasies, sometimes more outstretched, and sometimes more loose. The same Plato, who defineth man like unto a Capon, saith elsewhere after Socrates, that in good sooth, he knoweth not what man is; and that of all parts of the world, there is none so hard to be known. By this varictie of conceits & instability of opinions, they (as it were) lead us closely by the hand to this resolution of their irresolution. They make a profession not always to present their advice manifest & unmasked: they have oft concealed the same under the fabulous shadows of Poesy, and sometimes under other vizards. For our imperfection admitteth this also, that raw meats are not always good for our stomachs: but they must be dried, altered and corrupted, and so do they, who sometimes shadow their simple opinions and judgements; And that they may the better suit themselves unto common use, they many times falsi●●e them. They will not make open profession of ignorance, and of the imbecility of man's reason, because they will not make children afraid: But they manifestly declare the same unto us under the show of a troubled Science and unconstant learning. I persuade some body in Italy, who laboured very much to speak Italian, that always provided, he desired but to be understood, and not to seek to excel others therein, he should only employ & use such words as came first to his mouth, whether they were Latin, French, Spanish, or Gascoine, and that adding the Italian terminations unto them, he should never miss to fall upon some idiom of the Country, either Tuscan, Roman, Venetian, Piemontoise, or Neapolitan; and amongst so many several forms of speech to take hold of one. The very same I say of Philosophy. She hath so many faces, and so much variety, and hath said so much, that all our dreams and devises are found in her. The fantasy of man can conceive or imagine nothing, be it good or evil, that is not to be found in her: Nihil tam absurdè dici potest, quod non dicatur Cic. di●. lib. 2. ab aliquo Phylosophorum. Nothing may be spoken so absurdly, but that it is spoken by some of the Philosophers. And therefore do I suffer my humours or caprices more freely to pass in public; Forasmuch as though they are borne with, and of me, and without any pattern; well I wot, they will be found to have relation to some ancient humour, and some shall be found, that will both know and tell whence, and of whom I have borrowed them. My customs are natural; when I contrived them, I called not for the help of any discipline: And weak and faint as they were, when I have had a desire to express them, & to make them appear to the World a little more comely and decent, I have somewhat endeavoured to aid them with discourse, & assist them with examples. I have wondered at myself, that by mere chance I have met with them, agreeing and suitable to so many ancient examples and Philosophical discourses. What regiment my life was-of, I never knew nor learned but after it was much worn and spent. A new figure: An unpremeditated Philosopher and a casual. But to return unto our soul, where Plato hath seated reason in the brain; anger in the heart; lust in the liver; it is very likely, that it was rather an interpretation of the soul's motions, than any division or separation he meant to make of it, as of a body into many members. And the likeliest of their opinion is, that it is always a soul, which by her rational faculty, remembreth herself, comprehendeth, judgeth, desireth, and exerciseth all her other functions, by diverse instruments of the body, as the Pilot ruleth and directeth his ship according to the experience he hath of it; now stretching, haling, or losing a cable, sometimes ho●sing the Main-yard, removing an Oar, or stirring the Rudder, causing several effects with one only power: And that she abideth in the brain, appeareth by this, that the hurts and accidens, which touch that part, do presently offend the faculties of the soul, whence she may without inconvenience descend and glide through other parts of the body: — medium non deserit unquam Claud. 6. Hon. cons. pan. 411. Coeli Phebus iter: radijs tamen omnia lustrat. Never the Sun forsakes heavens middle ways, Yet with his rays he light's all, all survaies. as the Sun spreadeth his light, and infuseth his power from heaven, and therewith filleth the whole World. Caetera pars animae per totum dissita corpus Lucr. lib 3. 144. Paret, & ad numen mentis noménque movetur. Th'other part of the soul through all the body sent Obeys, and moved is, by the minds government. Some have said, that there was a general soul, like unto a great body, from which all particular souls were extracted, and returned thither, always reconjoyning and entermingling themselves unto that Universal matter: — Deumnámque ire per omnes Virg. Georg. lib. 4. Goe 222. Terrásque tractú●que maris coelúmque profundum: Hinc pecudes; armenta, viros, genus omne ferarum, Quemque sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas, Scilicet huc red●i deinde, ac resoluta referri Omnia: nec morti esse locum— For God through all the earth to pass is found, Through all Sea currents, through the heaven profound, Here hence men, herds, and all wild beasts that are, Short life in birth each to themselves do share. All things resolved to this point restored Return, nor any place to death afford. others, that they did but reconjoyne and fasten themselves to it again: others, that they were produced by the divine substance: others, by the Angels, of fire and air: some from the beginning of the world; and some, even at the time of need: others, make them to descend from the round of the Moon, and that they return to it again. The common sort of antiquity, that they are begotten from Father to Son, after the same manner and production, that all other natural things are; arguing so by the resemblances, which are between Fathers and Children. Instillata patris virtus tibi,— Thy Father's virtues be, Instilled into thee. Forts creantur fortibus & bonis, Hor. car. lib. 4. ●d. 4. 29. Of valiant Sires and good, There comes a valiant brood. and that from fathers we see descend unto children, not only the marks of their bodies, but also a resemblance of humours, of complexions, and inclinations of the soul. Denique cur acrum violentia triste Leonum Luer. ●i. 3. 766. Seminium sequitur, dolus Vulpibus, & fuga Cervis A patribus datur, & patrius pavor incitat Artus Si non certa suo quia semine seminióque 77● Vis animi pariter crescit cum corpore toto? Why follows violence the savage lions race? Why craft the Foxes? Why to Dear to fly a pace? By parents is it given, when parents fear incites, Unless because a certain force of inward spirits With all the body grows, As seed and seed-spring goes? That divine justice is grounded thereupon, punishing the father's offences upon the children; forsomuch as the contagion of the father's vices, is in some sort printed, in children's souls, and that the misgovernment of their will toucheth them. Moreover, that if the souls came from any other place, then by a natural consequence, and that out of the body they should have been some other thing, they should have some remembrance of their first being: Considering the natural faculties, which are proper unto him, to discourse, to reason, and to remember. — si in corpus nascentibus insinuatur, Luer. li. 3. 692. Cur super anteactam aetatem meminisse nequimus, Nec vestigia gestarum rerum ulla tenemus? If our soul at our birth be in our body cast, Why can we not remember ages overpast, Nor any marks retain of things done first or last? For, to make our soul's condition, to be of that worth we would, they must all be presupposed wise, even when they are in their natural simplicity and genuine purity. So should they have been such, being freed from the corporal prison, aswell before they entered the same, as we hope they shall be, when they shall be out of it. And it were necessary they should (being yet in the body) remember the said knowledge (as Plato said) that what we learned, was but a new remembering of that, which we had known before: A thing that any man may by experience maintain to be false and erroneous. First, because we do not precisely remember what we are taught, and that if memory did merely execute her function, she would at least suggest us with something besides our learning. Secondly, what she knew being in her purity, was a true understanding, knowing things as they are, by her divine intelligence: Whereas here, if she be instructed, she is made to receive lies and apprehend vice, wherein she cannot employ her memory; this image and conception, having never had place in her. To say, that the corporal prison, doth so suppress her natural faculties, that they are altogether extinct in her: first, is clean contrary to this other belief, to knowledge her forces so great, and the operations which men in this transitory life feel of it, so wonderful, as to have thereby concluded this divinity, and forepast eternity, and the immortality to come: Nam si tantopere est animi mutata pot est as, Omnis ut actarum exciderit retinentia rerum, 695. Non ut opinor ea ab let ho iam longior errat. If of our mind the power be so much altered, As of things done all hold, all memory is fled, Then (as I guess) it is not far from being dead. Moreover, it is here with us, and no where else, that the soul's powers and effects, are to be considered; all the rest of her perfections, are vain and unprofitable unto her: it is by her present condition, that all her immortality must be rewarded and paid, and she is only accountable for the life of man: It were injustice to have abridged her of her means and faculties, and to have disarmed her against the time of her captivity and prison, of her weakness and sickness, of the time and season where she had been forced and compelled to draw the judgement and condemnation of infinite and endless continuance, and to rely upon the consideration of so short a time, which is peradventure of one or two hours, or if the worst happen, of an age, (which have no more proportion with infinite, than a moment) definitively to appoint and establish of all her being, by that instant of space. It were an impious disproportion to wrest an eternal reward in consequence of so short a life. Plato, to save himself from this inconvenience, would have future payments limited to a hundred years continuance, relatively unto a human continuance: and many of ours have given them temporal limits. By this they judged, that her generation followed the common condition of human things: As also her life, by the opinion of Epicurus and Democritus, which hath most been received, following these goodly appearances. That her birth was seen, when the body was capable of her; her virtue and strength was perceived as the corporal increased; in her infancy might her weakness be discerned, and in time her vigour and ripeness, than her decay and age, and in the end her decrepitude: — gigni pariter cum corpore, & una▪ Ib. 450. Crescere seutimus, paritérque senescere mentem. The mind is with the body bred, we do behold, It jointly grows with it, with it it waxeth old. They perceived her to be capable of divers passions, and agitated by many languishing and painful motions, where through she fell into weariness and grief, capable of alteration and change, of joy, stupefaction and languishment, subject to her infirmities, diseases, and offences, even as the stomach or the foot, — mentem sanari, corpus ut aegrum Ib. 517. Cernimus, & flecti medicinâ posse videmus: We see as bodies sick are cured, so is the mind, We see, how Physic can it each way turn and wind. dazzled and troubled by the force of wine; removed from her seat by the vapours of a burning fever; drowsy and sleepy by the application of some medicaments, and roused up again by the virtue of some others. — corpeream naturam animi esse necesse est▪ Ib. 176. Corporeis quoniam telis ictúque laborat. The nature of the mind must needs corporeal be, For with corporeal darts and strokes it's grieved we see. She was seen to dismay and confound all her faculties by the only biting of a sicke-dogge, and to contain no great constancy of discourse, no sufficiency, no virtue, no philosophical resolution, no contention of her forces, that might exempt her from the subjection of these accidents: The spittle or slavering of a mastiff dog shed upon Socrater his hands, to trouble all his wisdom, to distemper his great and regular imaginations, and so to vanquish and annul them, that no sign or show of his former knowledge was left in him: — vis animaï Ib. 501. Conturbatur,— & divisa seorsum Disiectatur eodem illo distracta veneno▪ The souls force is disturbed, separated, Distraught by that same poison, alienated. And the said venom to find no more resistance in his soul, then in that of a child of four years old, a venom able to make all Philosophy (were she incarnate) become furious and mad: So that Cato, who scorned both death and fortune, could not abide the sight of a looking glass, or of water; overcome with horror, and quelled with amazement, if by the contagion of a mad dog, he had fallen into that sickness, which Physicians call Hydrophobia, or fear of waters. — vis morbi distracta per artus Ib. 495. Turbat agens animam, spumantes aequore salso Ventorum ut validis ferveseunt viribus undae. The force of the disease dispersed through joints offends, Driving the soul, as in salt Seas the wave ascends, Foaming by furious force which the wind raging lends. Now concerning this point, Philosophy hath indeed armed man for the enduring of all other accidents, whether of patience, or if it be overcostly to be found, of an infallible defeat, in conveying herself, altogether from the sense: but they are means, which serve a soul, that is her own, and in her proper force, capable of discourse and deliberation: not to this inconvenience, where with a Philosopher, a soul becometh the soul of a fool troubled, vanquished and lost, which diverse occasions may produce, as in an overviolent agitation, which by some vehement passion, the soul may beget in herself: or a hurt in some part of the body; or an exhalation from the stomach, casting us into some astonishment, dazleing, or giddiness of the head: — morbis in corporis avius errat Ib. 467. Saepe animus, dementit enim, deliráque fatur, Interdúmque gravi Let hargo fertur in altum Aeternúmque soporem, oculus nutúque cadenti. The mind in body's sickness often wandering strays: For it enraged raves, and idle talk outbrayes: Brought by sharp Lethargy sometime to more than deep, While eyes and eyelids fall into eternal sleep. Philosophers have in mine opinion but slightly harped upon this string, no more than an other of like consequence. They have ever this Dilemma in their mouth, to comfort our mortal condition. The soul is either mortal or immortal: if mortal, she shall be without pain: if immortal, she shall mend. They never touch the other branch: What, if she impair and be worse? And leave the menaces of future pains to Poets. But thereby they deal themselves a good game. They are two omissions, which in their discourses do often offer themselves unto me. I come to the first again: the soul looseth the use of that Stoical chief felicity, so constant and so firm. Our goodly wisdom must necessarily in this place yield herself, and quit her weapons. As for other matters, they also considered by the vanity of man's reason, that the mixture and society of two so different parts, as is the mortal and the immortal is inimaginable: Quip etenim mortale aeterno iungere, & unà Ib. 831. Consentire putare, & fungi mutua posse, Desipere est. Quid enim diversius esse putandum est, Aut magis inter se disiunctum discrepit ansque, Quám mortale quod est, immortali atque perenni junctum in concilio saevas tolerare procellas? For what immortal is, mortal to join unto, And think they can agree, and mutual duties do, Is to be foolish: For what think we stranger is, More disagreeable, or more disjoined, than this, That mortal with immortal endless joined in union, Can most outrageous storms endure in their communion? Moreover they felt their soul to be engaged in death, as well as the body; — simul aevo fessa fatiscit, Ib. 463. It jointly faint's in one, Wearied as age is gone. Which thing (according to Zeno) the image of sleep doth manifestly show unto us. For he esteemeth, that it is a fainting and declination of the soul, aswell as of the body. Contrabi Cic. di●. lib. 2. animum, & quasi labi putat atque decidere. He thinks the mind is contracted, and doth as it were slide and fall down. And that (which is perceived in some) its force and vigour maintaineth itself even in the end of life, they referred and imputed the same to the diversity of diseases, as men are seen in that extremity, to maintain, some one sense, and some another, some their hearing, and some their smelling, without any alteration; and there is no weakness or decay seen so universal, but some entire and vigorous parts will remain. Non alio pacto quam si pes cum dolet aegri, Lucr. lib. 111. In nullo caput interea sit fortè dolore. No otherwise, then if, when sick-man's foot doth ache, Mean time perhaps his head no fellow-feeling take. Our judgements sight referreth itself unto truth, as doth the Owls eyes unto the shining of the Sun, as saith Aristotle. How should we better convince him, then by so gross blindness, in so apparent a light? For, the contrary opinion of the soul's immortality, which Cicero saith, to have first been brought in (at least by the testimony of books) by Pherecydes Syrius, in the time of King Tullus (others ascribe the invention thereof to Thales, and other to others) it is the part of human knowledge treated most sparingly and with more doubt. The most constant Dogmatists (namely in this point) are enforced to cast themselves under the shelter of the academics wings. No man knows what Aristotle hath established upon this subject, no more than all the ancients in General, who handle the same with a very wavering belief: Rem gratissimam promittentium magis quam probantium. Who rather promise then approve a thing most acceptable. He hath hidden himself under the clouds of intricare and ambiguous words, and unintelligible senses, and hath left his Sectaries as much cause to dispute upon his judgement, as upon the matter. Two things made this his opinion plausible to them: the one, that without the immortality of souls, there should no means be left to ground or settle the vain hopes of glory; a consideration of wonderful credit in the world: the other (as Plato saith) that it is a most profitable impression, that views, when they steal away from out the sight and knowledge of human justice, remain ever as a blank before divine justice, which even after the death of the guilty, will severely pursue them. Man is ever possessed with an extreme destre to prolong his being, and hath to the uttermost of his skill provided for it, Toombs and Monuments are for the preservation of his body, and glory for the continuance of his name. He hath employed all his wit to frame himself anew, (as impatient of his fortune) and to underprop or uphold himself by his inventions. The soul by reason of her trouble and imbecility, as unable to subsist of herself, is ever, and in all places questing and searching comforts, hopes, foundations; and foreign circumstances, on which she may take hold and settle herself. And how light and fantastical soever his invention doth frame them unto him, he notwithstanding relieth more surely upon them, and more willingly, than upon himself: But it is a wonder to see how the most obstinate in this so just and manifest persuasion of our spirits immortality, have found themselves short and unable to establish the same by their human forces. Somnia sunt non docentis, sed optantis. These are dreams not of one that teacheth, but wisheth what he would have: said an ancient writer. Man may by his own testimony know, that the truth he alone discovereth, the same he oweth unto fortune and chance; since even when she is fallen into his hands, he wanteth wherewith to lay hold on her, and keep her; and that this reason hath not the power to prevail with it. All things produced by our own discourse and sufficiency, as well true as false, are subject to uncertainty and disputation. It is for the punishment of our temerity, and instruction of our misery and incapacity, that God caused the trouble, downfall and confusion of Babel's Tower. Whatsoever we attempt without his assistance, whatever we see without the lamp of his grace, is but vanity and folly: With our weakness we corrupt and adulterate the very essence of truth (which is uniform and constant) when fortune giveth us the possession of it. What course soever man taketh of himself, it is God's permission that he ever cometh to that confusion, whose image he so lively representeth unto us, by the just punishment, wherewith he framed the presumptuous overweening of Nembroth, and brought to nothing the frivolous enterprises of the building of his high-towring Pyramid, or Heaven-menacing tower. Perdam sapientiam sapientium, & prudentiam prudentium 1. Cor. 1. 19 reprobabo. I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and reprove the providence of them that are most prudent. The diversity of tongues and languages, wherewith he disturbed that work, and overthrew that proudly-raisd Pile; what else is it, but this infinite altercation, and perpetual discordance of opinions and reasons, which accompanieth and entangleth the frivolous frame of man's learning, or vain building of human science? Which he doth most profitably. Who might contain us, had we but one grain of knowledge? This Saint hath done me much pleasure: Ipsa utilitatis occultatio, aut humilitatis exercitatio est, aut elationis attritio. The very concealing of the profit, is either an exercise of humility, or a beating down of arrogancy. Unto what point of presumption and insolency, do we not carry our blindness & foolishness? But to return to my purpose: Verily there was great reason, that we should be beholding to God alone, and to the benefit of his grace, for the truth of so noble a belief, since from his liberality alone we receive the fruit of immortality, which consisteth in enjoying of eternal blessedness. Let us ingenuously confess, that only God and Faith, hath told it us: For, it is no lesson of Nature, nor coming from our reason. And he that shall both within and without narrowly sift, and curiously sound his being and his forces without this divine privilege; he that shall view and consider man, without flattering him, shall nor find nor see either efficacy or faculty in him, that tasteth of any other thing but death and earth. The more we give, the more we owe; and the more we yield unto God, the more Christianlike do we. That which the Stoic Philosopher said, he held by the casual consent of the people's voice; had it not been better he had held it of God? cum de animorum Sen epist. 117. aeternitate disserimus, non leave momentum apud nos habet consensus hominum, aut timentium inferos, aut coleutium. Vtor hâc publicâ persuasione. When we discourse of the immortality of souls, in my conceit the consent of those men is of no small authority, who either fear or adore the infernal powers. This public persuasion I make useof. Now the weakness of human Arguments upon this subject, is very manifestly known by the fabulous circumstances they have added unto the train of this opinion, to find out what condition this our immortality was of. Let us omit the Stoics. Vsuram nobis largiuntur, tanquam cornicibus; di● mansures aiunt animos, Cic. Tusc. qu. l. 1. semper, negant. They grant us use of life, as it unto Ravens: they say, our souls shall long continue, but they deny, they shall last ever. Who gives unto souls a life beyond this, but finite. The most universal, and received fantasy, and which endureth to this day, hath been that, whereof Pythagoras is made Author; not that he was the first inventor of it, but because it received much force and credit, by the authority of his approbation; Which is, that souls at their departure from us, did but pass and roll from one to an other body, from a Lion to a Horse, from a Horse to a King, uncessantly wandering up and down, from House to Mansion. And himself said, that he remembered to have been Aethaledes, than Euphorbus, afterward Hermotimus, at last from Pyrrhus to have passed into Pythagoras: having memory of himself, the space of two hundred and six years: some added more, that the same souls do sometimes ascend up to haven, and come down again: O Pater ánne aliquas ad coelum hinc ire putandum est Virg. Ae●. lib. 6. 739. Sublimes animas, iterumque ad tarda reverti Corpora? Quae lucis miseris tam dira cupido? Must we think (Father) some souls hence do go, Razed to heaven, thence turn to bodies slow? Whence doth so dire desire of light on wretches grow? Origen makes them eternally to go and come from a good, to a bad estate. The opinion that Varro reporteth is, that in the revolution of four hundred and forty years, they reconjoine themselves unto their first bodies. Chrysippus, that that must come to pass after a certain space of time unknown, and not limited. Plato (who saith that he holds this opinion from Pindarus, and from ancient Poesy,) of infinite Vicissitudes of alteration, to which the soul is prepared, having no pains nor rewards in the other World, but temporal, as her life in this is but temporal, concludeth in her a singular knowledge of the affairs of Heaven, of Hell, and here below, where she hath passed, repassed, and sojourned in many voyages; a matter in his remembrance. Behold her progress elsewhere: He that hath lived well, reconjoineth himself unto that Star or Planet, to which he is assigned: Who evil, passeth into a Woman: And if then he amend not himself, he transchangeth himself into a beast, of condition agreeing to his vicious customs, and shall never see an end of his Punishments, until he return to his natural condition, and by virtue of reason, he have deprived himself of those gross, stupid, and elementary qualities, that were in him. But I will not forget the objection, which the Epicureans make unto this transmigration from one body to another: Which is very pleasant. They demand, what order there should be, if the throng of the dying, should be greater than that of such as be borne. For, the souls removed from their abode would throng and strive together, who should get the best seat in this new case: And demand beside, what they would pass their time about, whilst they should stay, until any other mansion were made ready for them: Or contrarywise, if more creatures were borne, then should die; they say, bodies should be in an ill taking, expecting the infusion of their soul, & it would come to pass, that some of them should die, before they had ever been living. Denique connubia ad veneris, partúsque ferarum, L●cr. li. 3. 802. Esse animas praesto deridiculum esse videtur, Et spectare immortales mortalia membra Innumero numero, certaréque praeproperanter Inter see, quae prima potissimaque infinuetur. Lastly, ridiculous it is, souls should be priest To Venus' meetings, and begetting of a beast: That they to mortal limbs immortal be addressed In number numberless, and overhasty strive, Which of them first and chief should get in there to live. Others have stayed the soul in the deceased bodies, therewith to animate serpents, worms and other beasts, which are said to engender from the corrupttion of our members, yea and from our ashes: Others, divide it in two parts one mortal, another immortal: Others make it corporeal, and yet notwithstanding immortal: Others, make it immortal, without any science or knowledge. Nay there are some of ours, who have deemed that of condemned men's souls devils were made: As Plutarch thinks, that Gods are made of those souls which are saved: For, there be few things that this author doth more resolutely aver, than this; holding every where else an ambiguous and doubtful kind of speech. It is to be imagined and firmly believed (saith he) that the souls of men, virtuous both according unto nature and divine justice, become of Men, Saints, and of Saints, Demigods and after they are once perfectly, as in sacrifices of purgation, cleanged and purified, being delivered from all passibility and mortality, they become of Demigods (not by any civil ordinance, but in good truth, and according to manifest reason) perfect and very-very Gods; receiving a most blessed and thrice glorious end. But whosoever shall see him, who is notwithstanding, one of the most sparing and moderate of that faction, so undauntedly to skirmish, and will hear him relate his wonders upon this subject, him I refer to his discourse of the Moon, and of Socrates his Daemon; where as evidently as in any other place, may be averred, that the mysteries of Philosophy have many strange conceits, common with those of Poesy; man's understanding losing itself once go about to sound and control all things to the utmost end; as tired and troubled by a long and wearisome course of our life, we return to a kind of doting childhood. Note here the goodly and certain instructions, which concerning our soulessubject we draw from human knowledge. There is no less rashness in that which she teacheth us touching our corporal parts. Let us make choice but of one or two examples, else should we lose ourselves in this troublesome and vast Ocean of Physical errors. Let us know whether they agree but in this one, that is to say, of what matter men are derived and produced one from another. For, touching their first production, it is no marvel if in a thing so high and so ancient, man's wit is troubled and confounded. Archelaus the Physician, to whom (as Aristoxenus affirmeth) Socrates was Disciple and Minion, assevered that both men and beasts had been made of milky slime or mud, expressed by the heat of the earth. Pythagoras saith, that our seed is the scum or froth of our best blood. Plato the distilling of the marrow in the backe-bone, which he argueth thus, because that place feeleth first the weariness which followeth the sweet general business. Alcmaeon, a part of the braines-substance, which to prove, he saith, their eyes are ever most troubled, that over-intemperately addict themseluse to that exercise. Democritus, a substance extracted from all parts of this corporal Mass. Epicurus extracted from the last soul and the body: Aristotle an excrement drawn from the nourishment of the blood, the last scattereth itself in our several members; others, blood, concocted and digested by the heat of the genitories, which they judge, because in the extreme, earnest and forced labours many shed drops of pure blood; wherein some appearance seemeth to be, if from so infinite a confusion any likelihood may be drawn. But to bring this seed to effect, how many contrary opinions make they of it? Aristotle and Democritus hold, that women have no sperm, that it is but a sweat, which by reason of the pleasure, and frication they cast forth, and availeth nothing in generation. Galen, and his adherents, chose affirm, that there can be no generation, except two seeds meet together. Behold the Physicians, the Philosophers, the Lawyers, and the Divines pellmell together by the ears with our women about the question and disputation how long women bear their fruit in their womb. And as for me, by mine own example I take their part, that maintain, a woman may go eleven months with child. The world is framed of this experience; there is no mean woman so simple, that cannot give her censure upon all these contestations, although we could not agree. This is sufficient to verify, that in the corporal part, man is no more instructed of himself, then in the spiritual. We have proposed himself to himself, and his reason to his reason, to see what she can tell us of it. Me thinks I have sufficiently declared, how little understanding she hath of herself. And he Plin. Nat. hist. lib. 2. cap. 1. who hath no understanding of himself, what can he have understanding of? Quasi verò mensuram ullius rei possit agere, qui sui nesciat. As though he could take measure of any thing that knows not his own measure. Truly Protagoras told us pretty tales, when he makes man the measure of all things, who never knew so much as his own. If it be not he, his dignity will never suffer any other creature to have this advantage over him. Now he being so contrary in himself, and one judgement so uncessantly subverting another, this favourable proposition was but a jest, which induced us necessarily to conclude the nullity of the Compass and the Compasser. When Thales judgeth the knowledge of man very hard unto man, he teacheth him the knowledge of all other things to be impossible unto him. You for whom I have taken the pains to enlarge so long a work (against my custom) will not shun to maintain your Sebond, with the ordinary form of arguing, whereof you are daily instructed, and will therein exercise both your mind and study: For this last trick of fence, must not be employed but as an extreme remedy. It is a desperate thrust, 'gainst which you must forsake your weapons, to force your adversary to renounce his; and a secret slight, which must seldom and very sparingly be put in practice. It is great fond-hardinesse to lose ourself for the loss of another. A man must not be willing to die to revenge himself, as Gobrias was: who being close by the ears with a Lord of Persia, Darius chanced to come in with his sword in his Justin. l. 1. hand, and fearing to strike, for fear he should hurt Gobrias, he called unto him, and bade him smite boldly although he should smite through both. I have heard, arms, and conditions of single combats being desperate and in which he that offered them, put both himself and his enemy in danger of an end inevitable to both, reproved as unjust, and condemned as unlawful. The Portugals took once certain Turk's prisoners in the Indian seas, who impatient of their captivity, resolved with themselves (and their resolution succeeded) by rubbing of Ship-nailes one against another, and causing sparkles of fire to fall amongst the barrels of powder (which lay not far from them) with intent to consume both themselves, their masters, and the ship. We but touch the skirts, and glance at the last closings of Sciences, wherein extremity, as well as in virtue, is vicious. Keep yourselves in the common path, it is not good to be so subtle, and so curious. Remember what the Italian proverb saith, Chitroppos' ' assottiglias, siscavezza. Petr. p. 1. canz. 13. 48. Who makes himself too fine, Doth break himself in fine. I persuade you in your opinions and discourses, as much as in your customs, and in every other thing, to use moderation and temperance, and avoid all new-fangled inventions and strangeness. All extravagant ways displease me. You who by the authority and pre-eminence, which your greatness hath laid upon you, and more by the advantages, which the qualities that are most your own, bestow on you, may with anod command whom you please, should have laid this charge upon some one, that had made profession of learning, who might otherwise have disposed and enriched this fantasy. Notwithstanding here have you enough to supply your wants of it. Epicurus said of the laws, that the worst were so necessary unto us, that without them, men would enter-devoure one another. And Plato verifieth, that without laws we should live like beasts. Our spirit is a vagabond, a dangerous, and fond-hardy implement; It is very hard to join order and measure to it. In my time, such as have any rare excellency above others, or extraordinary vivacity, we see them almost all so lavish and unbridled in licence of opinions and manners, as it may be counted a wonder to find any one settled and sociable. There is great reason why the spirit of man should be so strictly embarred. In his study, as in all things else he must have his steps numbered and ordered. The limits of his pursuit must be cut out by Arte. He is bridled and fettered with, and by religions, laws, customs, knowledge, precepts, pains and recompenses, both mortal and immortal; yet we see him, by means of his volubility and dissolution, escape all these bonds. It is a vain body, that hath no way about him to be seized on, or cut off: a divers and deformed body, on which neither knot nor hold may be fastened. Verily thereare few souls, so orderly, so constant, and so well borne, as may be trusted with their own conduct, and may with moderation, and without rashness, sail in the liberty of their judgements beyond common opinions. It is more expedient to give some body the charge and tuition of them. The spirit is an outrageous glaive, yea even to his own possessor, except he have the grace, very orderly and discreetly to arm himself therewith. And there is no beast, to whom one may more justly apply a blinding board, to keep her sight in, and force her look to her footing and keep from straying here and there, without the track which use and laws trace her out. Therefore shall it be better for you to close and bound yourselves in the accustomed path▪ howsoever it be, then to take your flight to this unbridled licence. But if any one of these new Doctors shall undertake, to play the wise or ingenious before you, at the charge of his and your health: to rid you of this dangerous plague, which daily more and more spreads it sell in your Courts, this preservative will in any extreme necessity be a let, that the contagion of this venom, shall neither offend you nor your assistance. The liberty then, and the jollity of their ancient spirits brought forth many different Sects of opinions, in Philosophy and human Sciences: every one undertaking to judge and choose, so he might raise a faction. But now that men walk all one way: Qui certis quibusdam destinatisque sententijs addict● Cic. T●sc. q●. l. 2 & consecrati sunt, ut etiam, quae non probant, cogantur defendere: Who are addicted and consecrated to certain set and fore-decreed opinions, so as they are enforced to maintain those things which they prove or approve not: And that we receive Arts by civil authority and appointment: So that schools have but one pattern, alike circumscribed discipline and institution; no man regardeth more what coins weigh and are worth; but every man in his turn receiveth them according to the value, that common approbation and succession alotteth them: Men dispute no longer of the alloy, but of the use. So are all things spent and vented alike. Physic is received as Geometry: and juggling tricks, enchantments, bonds, the commerce of deceased spirits, prognostications, domifications, yea even this ridiculous, wit and wealth-consuming pursuit of the Philosopher's stone, all is employed and uttered without contradiction. It sufficeth to know, that Mars his place lodgeth in the middle of the hands triangle; that of Venus in the Thumme and Mercuries in the little finger: and when the table-line cutteth the teachers rising, it is a sign of cruelty: When it faileth under the middle finger, and that the natural Median-line makes an angle with the vital, under the same side, it is a sign of a miserable death: And when a woman's natural line is open, and closes not it angle with the vital, it evidently denotes that she will not be very chaste. I call yourself to witness if with this Science only, a man may not pass with reputation and favour among all companies. Theophrastus' was wont to say, that man's knowledge, directed by the sense, might judge of the causes of things, unto a certain measure, but being come to the extreme and first causes, it must necessarily stay, and be blunted or abated; either by reason of its weakness, or of the things difficulty. It is an indifferent and pleasing kind of opinion, to think, that our sufficiency may bring us to the knowledge of some things, and hath certain measures of power, beyond which it is temerity to employ it. This opinion is plausible and brought in by way of composition: but it is hard to give our spirit any limits, being very curious and greedy, and not tied to stay rather at a thousand, than fifty paces. Having found by experience, that if one had missed to attain unto some one thing, another hath come unto it; and that which one age never knew, the age succeeding hath found out: and that Sciences and Arts are not cast in a mould, but rather by little and little form and shaped by often handling and polishing them over: even as bears fashion their young whelps by often licking them: what my strength cannot discover, I cease not to sound and try: and in handling and kneading this new matter and with removing and chafing it, I open some faculty for him that shall follow me, that with more ease he may enjoy the same, and so make it more facile, more supple and more pliable: — ut hymettia sole Ovid. Metam. lib. 10. 284. Vertitur infacies, ipsóque fit utilis usu. As the best Bees wax melteth by the Sun, And handled into many forms doth ●●n, And is made aptly fit, For use by using it. As much will the second do for the third, which is a cause that difficulty doth not make me despair, much less my unability: for it is but mine own. Man is as well capable of all things, as of some. And if (as Theophrastus saith) he avow the ignorance of the first causes and beginnings, let him hardly quit all the rest of his knowledge. If his foundation fail him, his discourse is overthrown. The dispute hath no other scope, and to inquire no other end but the principles: If this end stay not his course, he casteth himself into an infinite irresolution. Non potest aliud alio magis minúsque comprehendi, quoniam omnium rerum una est definitio comprehendendi. One thing can neither more nor less be comprehended then another, since of all things there is one definition of comprehending. Now is it likely, that if the soul knew any thing, she first knew herself: and if she knew any without and beside herself, it must be her vail and body before any thing else. If even at this day the Gods of Physic are seen to wrangle about our Anatomy, Mulciber in Troiam, pro Troia stabat Apollo, Ovid. Trist. li 1. ●●. 2. 5. Apollo stood for Troy, Vulcan Troy to destroy. When shall we expect that they will be agreed? We are nearer unto ourselves, then is whiteness unto snow, or weight unto a stone. If man know not himself, how can he know his functions and forces? It is not by fortune that some true notice doth not lodge with us, but by hazard. And forasmuch as by the same way, fashion and conduct, errors are received into our soul, she hath not wherewithal to distinguish them, nor whereby to choose the truth from falsehood. The academics received some inclination of judgement, and found it over raw, to say, it was no more likely, snow should be white then black, and that we should be no more assured of the moving of a stone, which goeth from our hand, then of that of the eight Sphere. And to avoid this difficulty and strangeness, which in truth can not but hardly lodge in our imagination, how beit they establish, that we were no way capable of knowledge, and that truth is engulfed in the deepest Abysses, where man's sight can no way enter; yet avowed they somethings to be more likely and possible than others, and received this faculty in their judgement, that they might rather incline to one appearance then to an other. They allowed her this propension, interdicting her all resolution. The Pyrrhonians advice is more hardy, and therewithal more likely. For this Academical inclination, and this propension rather to one than another proposition, what else is it, than a reacknowledging of some apparent truth, in this than in that? If our understanding be capable of the form, of the lineaments, of the behaviour and face of truth; it might as well see it all complete, as but half, growing and imperfect. For this appearance of verisimilitude, which makes them rather take the left then the right hand, do you augment it; this one ounce of likelihood, which turns the balance, do you multiply it, by a hundred, nay by a thousand ounces; it will in the end come to pass, that the balance will absolutely resolve and conclude one choice and perfect truth. But how do they suffer themselves to be made tractable by likelihood if they know not truth? How know they the semblance of that, whereof they understand not the essence? Either we are able to judge absolutely, or absolutely we cannot. If our intellectual and sensible faculties are without ground or footing, if they but hull up and down and drive with the wind, for nothing suffer we our judgement to be carried away to any part of their operation, what appearance soever it seemeth to present us with. And the surest and most happy situation of our understanding should be that, where without any tottering or agitation it might maintain itself settled, upright and inflexible. Inter visa, vera, aut falsa, ad animi Cic. Acad. q. l. 4. assensum▪ ●hil●nterest. There is no difference betwixt true and false visions, concerning the minds assent. That things lodge not in us in their proper form and essence, and make not their entrance into us, of their own power and authority, we see it most evidently. For if it were so, we should receive them all alike: wine would be such in a sick man's mouth, as in a healthy man's. He whose fingers are chopped through cold, and stiff or benumbed with frost, should find the same hardness in the wood or iron he might handle, which another doth. Then strange subjects yield unto our mercy, and lodge with us according to our pleasure. Now if on our part we receive any thing without alteration; if man's hold-fasts were capable and sufficiently powerful, by our proper means to seize on truth, those means being common to all; this truth would successively remove itself from one to an other. And of so many things as are in the world, at least one should be found, that by an universal consent should be believed of all. But that no proposition is feene, which is not controversied and debated amongst us or that may not be, declareth plainly, that our judgement doth not absolutely and clearly seize on that which it seizeth: for my judgement cannot make my fellows judgement to receive the same: which is a sign, that I have seized upon it by some other mean then by a natural power in me or other men. Leave we apart this infinite confusion of opinions, which is seen amongst Philosophers themselves, and this universal and perpetual disputation, in and concerning the knowledge of things. For it is most truly presupposed, that men (I mean the wisest, the best borne, yea and the most sufficient) do never agree, no not so much that heaven is over our heads: For they who doubt of all, do also doubt of this: and such as affirm, that we cannot conceive any thing, say we have not conceived whether heaven be over our heads: which two opinions are in number (without any comparison) the most forcible. Besides this diversity and infinite division, by reason of the trouble, which our own judgement layeth upon ourselves and the uncertainty which every man finds in himself, it may manifestly be perceived, that this situation is very uncertain and unstaid. How diversely judge we of things? How often change we our fantasies? What I hold and believe this day, I believe and hold with all my belief: all my implements, springs and motions, embrace and clasp this opinion, and to the utmost of their power warrant the same: I could not possibly embrace any verity, nor with more assurance keep it, than I do this. I am wholly and absolutely given to it: but hath it not been my fortune, not once, but a hundred, nay a thousand times, nay daily, to have embraced some other thing, with the very same instruments and condition, which upon better advice I have, afterward judged false? A man should at least become wise, at his own cost, and learn by others harms. If under this colour I have often found myself deceived, if my Touchstone be commonly found false and my balance un-even and unjust; What assurance may I more take of it at this time, then at others? Is it not folly in me, to suffer myself so often to be beguiled and cozened by one guide? Nevertheless, let fortune remove us five hundred times from our place, let her do nothing but uncessantly empty and fill, as in a vessel, other and other opinions in our mind, the present and last is always supposed certain and infallible. For this must a man leave goods, honour, life, state, health and all: — posterior res illa reperta Perdit; & immutat sensus ad pristina quaeque. ●uer. l. 5. 1424. The later thing destroys all found before And altars sense at all things liked of yore. Whatsoever is told us, and what ever we learn, we should ever remember, it is man, who delivereth, and man that receiveth: It is a mortal hand, that presents it, and a mortal hand, that receives it. Only things which come to us from heaven, have right and authority of persuasion and marks of truth: Which we neither see with our eyes, nor receive by our means: this scred and great image would be of no force in so wretched a Mansion, except God prepare it to that use and purpose, unless God by his particular grace and supernatural favour, reform and strengthen the same. Our fraile-defective condition ought at least make us demaene ourselves more moderately, and more circumspectly in our changes. We should remember, that whatsoever we receive in our understanding, we often receive false things, and that it is by the same instruments, which many times contradict and deceive themselves. And no marvel if they contradict themselves, being so easy to incline, and upon very slight occasions subject to waver and turn. Certain it is, that our apprehension, our judgement, and our soul's faculties in general, do suffer according to the bodies motions and alterations, which are continual. Have we not our spirits more vigilant, our memory more ready, and our discourses more lively in time of health, then in sickness? Doth not joy and blitheness make us receive the subjects, that present themselves unto our soul, with another kind of countenance, than lowering vexation, and drooping melancholy doth? Do you imagine, that Catullus or Sappho's verses, delight and please an old covetous Chuff-penny wretch, as they do a lusty and vigorous youngman? Cleomenes the son of Anaxandridas being sick, his friends reproved him, saying he had new strange humours, and unusual fantasies: It is not unlikely (answered he) for, I am not the man I was wont to be in time of health: But being other, so are my fantasies and my humours. In the rabble case-canvasing of our plea-cours, this byword. Gaudeat de bonafortuna, Let him joy in his good fortune, Is much in use, and is spoken of criminal offenders, who happen to meet with judges in some mild temper, or well-pleased mood. For it is most certain that in times of condemnation, the judges doom or sentence is some times perceived to be more sharp, merciless and forward, and at other times more tractable, facile, and inclined to shadow or excuse an offence, according as he is well or ill pleased in mind. A man that cometh out of his house troubled with the pain of the gout, vexed with jealousy, or angry that his servant hath robbed him and whose mind is overcome with grief, and plunged with vexation, and distracted with anger, there is not question to be made but his judgement is at that instant much distempered, and much transported that way. That venerable Senate of the Areopagites, was wont to judge and sentence by night, for fear the sight of the suitors ●ight corrupt justice. The air it'selfe, and the clearness of the firmament, doth forebode us some change and alteration of weather, as saith that Greek verse in Cicero, Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse Cic. exi●tert. jupiter, auctifer a lustravit lampade terras. Such are men's minds, as with increasefull light. Our father jove surveys the world in sight. It is not only fevers, drinks and great accidents, that over-whelme our judgement: The least things in the world will turn it topsiturvie. And although we feel it not, it is not to be doubted, if a continual ague may in the end suppress our mind, a tertiani will also (according to her measure and proportion) breed some alteration in it. If an Apoplexy doth altogether stupefy, and extinguish the sight of our understanding, it is not to be doubted but a cold and rheum will likewise dazzle the same. And by consequence, hardly shall a man in all his life find one hour, wherein our judgement may always be found in his right byase, our body being subject to so many continual alterations, and stuffed with so diverse sorts of gins and motions, that, giving credit to Physicians, it is very hard to find one in perfect plight, and that doth not always mistake his mark and shoot wide. As for the rest, this disease is not so easily discovered, except, it be altogether extreme and remediless; forasmuch as reason marcheth ever crooked, halting and broken-hipt; and with falsehood as with truth; And therefore it is very hard to discover her mistaking, and disorder. I always call reason, that appearance or show of discourses, which every man deviseth or forgeth in himself: That reason, of whose condition, there may be a hundred, one contrary to another, about one self same subject: It is an instrument of Lead and Wax, stretching, pliable, and that may be fitted to all byases, and squared to all measures: There remains nothing but the skill and sufficiency to know how to turn and wind the same. How well soever a judge meaneth and what good mind so ever he beareth, if diligent ear be not given unto him (to which few ammuse themselves) his inclination unto friendship, unto kindred, unto beauty, and unto revenge, and not only matters of so weighty consequence, but this innated and casual instinct▪ which makes us to favour one thing more than another, and incline to one man more than to another, and which without any leave of reason, giveth us the choice, in two like subjects, or some shadow of like vanity, may insensibly insinuate in his judgement the commendation and applause, or disfavour and disallowance of a cause, and give the balance a twitch. I that nearest pry into myself and who have mine eyes uncessantly fixed upon me, as one that hath much else to do else where, — quis sub arct● Rex gelidae metuatur orae, H●●. ●ar. l. 1. odd 26. 3. Quid Tyridatem terreat, unicè Securus, Only secure, who in cold coast Under the North-pole rules the roast, And there is feared; or what would fright, And Tyridates put to flight. dare very hardly report the vanity and weakness I feel in myself. My foot is so staggering and unstable, and I find it so ready to trip, and so easy to stumble; and my sight is so dim and uncertain, that fasting I find myself other then full fed: If my health applaud me, or but the calmness of one fair day smile upon me, then am I a lusly gallant; but if a corn wring my toe, then am I pouting, unpleasant and hard to be pleased. One same pace of a horse is sometimes hard, and sometimes easy unto me; and one same way, onetime short, another time long and wearisome; and one same form, now more, now less agreeable and pleasing to me: Sometimes I am apt to do any thing, and other times fit to do nothing: What now is pleasing to me, within a while after will be painful. There are a thousand indiscreet and casual agitations in me. Either a melancholy humour possesseth me, or a choleric passion swayeth me, which having shaken off, sometimes forwardness and peevishness hath predominancy, and other times gladness and blithness over rule me. If I chance to take a book in hand, I shall in some passages perceive some excellent graces, and which ever wound me to the soul with delight; but let me lay it by, and read him another time; let me turn and toss him as I list, let me apply and manage him as I will, I shall find it an unknown and shapeless mass. Even in my writings, I shall not at all times find the track, or air of my first imaginations; I wot not myself what I would have said, and shall vex and fret myself in correcting and giving a new sense to them, because I have peradventure forgotten or lost the former, which happily was better. I do but come and go; my judgement doth not always go forward, but is ever floating, and wandering, — velut minute a magno Cd●●l. lyr. epig. 22. 12. Deprensa navis in mari vesan●ente vento. Much like a petty skiff, that's taken short In a grand Sea, when winds do make mad sport. Many times (as commonly it is my hap to do) having for exercise and sport-sake undertaken to maintain an opinion contrary to mine, my mind applying and turning itself that way, doth so tie me unto it, as I find no more the reason of my former conceit▪ and so I leave it. Where I incline, there I entertain myself, howsoever it be, and am carried away by mine own weight. Every man could near-hand say as much of himself, would he but look into himself as I do. Preachers know, that the emotion, which surpriseth them, whilst they are in their earnest speech, doth animate them towards belief, and that being angry we more violently give ourselves to defend our proposition, emprint it in ourselves, and embrace the same with more vohemencie and approbation, than we did, being in our temperate and reposed sense. You relate simply your case unto a Lawyer, he answers faltering and doubtfully unto it, whereby you perceive it is indifferent unto him to defend either this, or that side, all is one to him: Have you paid him well, have you given him a good bait or fee, to make him earnestly apprehend it, begins he to be interessed in the matter, is his will moved, or his mind inflamed? Then will his reason be moved, and his knowledge inflamed withal. See then an apparent and undoubted truth presents itself to his understanding; wherein he discovers a new light, and believes it in good sooth, and so persuades himself. Shall I tell you? I wot not whether the heat of proceeding of spite and obstinacy, against the impression and violence of a magistrate, and of danger; or the interest of reputation, have induced some man, to maintain, even in the fiery flames the opinion, for which amongst his friends, and at liberty, he would never have been moved, nor have ventured his finger's end. The motions and fits which our soul receiveth by corporal passions, do greatly prevail in her, but more her own; with which it is so fully possess, as happily it may be maintained, she hath no other way, or motion, then by the blast of her winds, and that without their agitation, she should remain without action, as a ship at Sea, which the winds have utterly forsaken. And he who should maintain that, following the Peripatetic faction, should offer us no great wrong, since it is known, that the greatest number of the soules-actions, proceed and have need of this impulsion of passion; valour (say they) cannot be perfected without the assistance of choler, Semper ajax fortis, fortissimus tamen in furore. Cic. Tus. qu. l. 4. ajax ever valour had, Most then, when he was most mad. Nor doth any man run violently enough upon the wicked, or his enemies, except he be thoroughly angry; and they are of opinion, that an Advocate or counsellor at the bar, to have the cause go one his side, and to have justice at the judges hands doth first endeavour to provoke him to anger. Longing-desires moved Them●stoc●es, and urged Demost hens, and have provoked Philosophers, to long travels, to tedious watchings, and to Img●ing peregrinations: And lead us to honours, to doctrine, and to health; all profitable respects. And this demisnes of the soul, in suffering molestation and tediousness, serveth to no other purpose, but to breed repentance, and cause penitence in our consciences; and for our punishment to feel the scourge of God, and the rod of politic correction. Compassion serveth as a sting unto clemency, and wisdom to preserve and govern ourselves, is by our own fear roused up; and how many noble actions, by ambition, how many by presumption? To conclude, no eminent or glorious 〈…〉 can be without some immoderate and irregular agitation. May not this be one of the reasons, which moved the Epicurians, to discharge God of all care and thought of our affairs: For so much as the verv effects of his goodness, cannot exercise themselves towards us, without disturbing his rest, by means of the passions, which are as motives and solicitations, directing the soul to virtuous actions? Or have they thought otherwise and taken them as tempests, which shamefully lead astray the soul from her rest and tranquility? Vt maris tranquillit as tutelligitur, nullâ, ne minim à quidem, aur â fluctus commovente: Sic animi quietus & placatus status cernitur, quum perturbati● nulla est, quâ moveri Cic. ib. lib. 5. queat. As we concesve the Seas calmness, when not so much as the least pirling wind doth stir the waves, so is a peaceable reposed state of the mind then seen, when there is no per turbation, where by it may be moved. What differences ofsense and reason, what contrariety of imaginations, doth the diverfitie of our passions present unto us? What assurance may we then take of so unconstant and wavering a thing, subject by its own condition to the power of trouble, never marching but a forced and borrowed pace? If our judgement be in the hands of sickness itself, and of perturbation; if by rashness and folly it be retained to receive the impression of things, what assurance may we expect at his hands? Dares nos Philosophy think that men produce their greatest effects, and nearest approaching to divinity, when they are beside themselves, furious, and mad? We amend ourselves by the privation of reason, and by her drooping. The two natural ways, to enter the cabinet of the Gods, and there to foresee the course of the destinies, are fury and sleep. This is very pleasing to be considered. By the dislocation, that passions bring unto our reason, we become virtuous; by the extirpation, which either fury or the image of death bringeth us, we become Prophets and Divines. I never believed it more willingly. It is a mere divine inspiration, that sacred truth hath inspired in a Philosophical spirit, which against his proposition exacteth from him; that the quiet state of our soul, the best-settled estate, yea the healthfullest that Philosophy can acquire unto it, is not the best estate. Our vigilancy is more drowsy, then sleep itself: Our wisdom less wise, than folly; our dreams of more worth than our discourses. The worst place we can take, is in ourselves. But thinks it not, that we have the foresight to mark, that the voice, which the spirit uttereth, when he is gone from man, so clear sighted, so great, and so perfect, and whilst he is in man, so earthly, so ignorant, and so overclouded, is a voice proceeding from the spirit, which is in earthly, ignorant, and over clouded man; and therefore a trustless and not to be-beleeved voice? I have no great experience in these violent agitations, being of a soft and dull complex on; the greatest part of which, without giving it leisure to acknowledge herself, do suddenly surprise our soul. But that passion, which in yoongmens' hearts is said, to be produced by idleness, although it march but leasurly, and with a measured progress, doth evidently present to those, that have assayed to oppose themselves against her endeavour, the power of the conversion and alteration, which our judgement suffereth. I have some times enterprised to arm myself with a resolution to abide, resist, and sup press the same. For, I am so far from being in their rank, that call and allure vices, that unless they entertain me, I scarcely follow them. I felt it, maugre my resistance, to breed, to grow, and to augment; and in the end being in perfect health, and clear-sighted, to seize-upon and possess me; in such sort, that, as in drunkenness, the image of things, began to appear unto me, otherwise than it was wont: I saw the advantages of the subject, I sought after, evidently to swell and grow greater, and much to increase by the wind of my imagination; and the difficulties of my enterprise to become more easy and plain; and my discourse and conscience to shrink and draw-backe. But that fire being evaporated all on a sudden, as by the flashing of a lightning my soul to reassume an other sight, another state, and other judgement. The difficulty in my retreat seemed great and invincible, and the very same things of another taste and show than the fervency of desire had presented them unto me. And which more truly, Pyrrho cannot tell. We are never without some infirmity. Fevers have their heat, and their cold: From the effects of a burning passion, we fall into the effects of a chilling passion. So much as I had cast myself forward, so much do I draw myself back. Qualis ubi alterno procurrens gurgite pontus, Nunc ruit ad terr as scopulisque superiacit undam, Virg. Aen. l. 11. 508. Spumeus, extremámque●inu perfundit arenam, Nunc rapidus retro atque aestu revoluta resorbens Saxa fugit, littusque vado labente relinquit. As th'ocean flowing, ebbing in due course, To land now rushes, foaming throws his source, On rocks, there with bedew's the utmost sand, Now swift returns, the stones rolled back from strand By tide resuck's, ford failing leaves the land. Now by the knowledge of my volubility, I have by accidence engendered some constancy of opinions in myself; yet have not so much altered my first and natural ones. For, what appearance soever there be in novelty, I do not easily change, for fear I should lose by the bargain: And since I am not capable to choose, I take the choice from others; and keep myself in the seat, that God hath placed me in. Else could I hardly keep myself from continual rolling. Thus have I by the grace of God preserved myself whole (without agitation or trouble of conscience) in the ancient belief of our religion, in the midst of so many sects and divisions, which our age hath brought forth. The writings of the ancient fathers (I mean the good, the solid, and the serious) do tempt, and in a manner remove me which way they list. Him that I hear seemeth ever the most forcible. I find them everieone in his turn to have reason, although they contrary one another. That facility, which good wits have to prove any thing they please, likely; and that there is nothing so strange, but they will undertake to set so good a gloss on it, as it shall easily deceive a simplicity like unto mine, doth manifestly show the weakness of their proof. The heavens and the planets have moved these three thousand years, and all the world believed as much, until Cleanthes the Samian, or else (according to Thcophrastus) Nicetas the Syracusian took upon him to maintain, it was the earth that moved, by the oblique circle of the Zodiac, turning about her axle tree. And in our days C●pernicus hath so well grounded this doctrine, that he doth very orderly fit it to all Astrological consequences. What shall we reap by it, but only that we need not care, which of the two it be? And who knoweth whether a thousand years hence a third opinion will rise, which happily shall overthrow these two precedent. Sic volvenda aetas commut at tempora rerum, Lucr. l. 5. 1●86. Quodque fuit pretio, sit nullo denique honore, Porrò aliud succedit, & è contemptibus exit, Inque dies magis appetitûr, floretque repertum Laudibus, & miro est mortales inter honore. So age to be pastover alter's times of things: What erst was most esteemed, At last nought-worth is deemed: An other than succed's, and from contempt upsprings, Is daily more desired, flowreth as found but then With praise and wondrous honour amongst mortal men So when any new Doctrine is represented unto us, we have great cause to suspect it, and to consider, how before it was invented, the contrary unto it was in credit; and as that hath been reversed by this latter, a third invension may peradventure sueceede in after-ages, which in like sort shall front the second. Before the principles, which Aristotle found out, were in credit, other principles contented man's reason, as his do now content us. What learning have these men, what particular privilege, that the course of our invention should rely only upon them, and that the possession of our belief, shall for ever hereafter belong to them? They are no more exempted from being rejected, then were their forefathers. If any man urge me with a new Argument, it is in me to imagine, that if I cannot answer it, another can. For, to believ● all appearances, which we cannot resolve, is mere simplicity. It would then follow, that all the common sort (whereof we are all part) should have his belief turning and winding like a weathercock: For, his soul being soft, and without resistance, should uncessantly be enforced to receive new and admit other impressions: the latter ever defacing the precedents trace. He that perceiveth himself weak, aught to answer, according to law terms, that he will confer with his learned counsel, or else refer himself to the wisest, from whom he hath had his prentiseship. How long is it since Physic came first into the World? It is reported that a new startup fellow, whom they call Paracelius, changeth and subverteth all the order of ancient, and so long time-received rules, and maintaineth that until this day it hath only served to kill people. I think he will easily verify it. But I suppose it were no great wisdom to hazard my life upon the trial of his newfangled experience. We must not believe all men, saith the precept, since every man may say all things. It is not long since, that one of these professors of novelties, and Physical reformations told me, that all our forefathers had notoriously abused themselves in the nature and motions of the winds, which, if I would listen unto him, he would manifestly make me perceve. After I had with some patience given attendance to his Arguments, which were indeed full of likelihood, I demanded of him, whether they that failed according to Theophrastus' his Laws, went westward, when they bend their course eastward? Or whether they failed sideling, or backward? It is fortune, answered he, but so it is they took their mark amiss: To whom I then replied, that I had rather follow the effects, than his reason. They are things that often shock together: and it hath been told me, that in Geometry (which supposeth to have gained the high point of certainty amongst all sciences) there are found unavoidable Demonstrations, and which subvert the truth of all experience: As james Peletier told me in mine own house, that he had found out two lines, bending their course one towards another, as if they would meet and join together; nevertheless he affirmed, that even unto infinity, they could never come to touch one another. And the Pyrrhonians use their Arguments, and Reason, but to destroy the appearance of experience: And it is a wonder to see how far the suppleness of our reason, hath in this design followed them, to resist the evidence of effects: For, they affirm, that we move not, that we speak not, that there is no weight, nor heat, with the same force of arguing, that we aver the most likeliest things. Ptolomey, who was an excellent man, had established the bounds of the world; All ancient Philosophers have thought they had a perfect measure thereof, except it were certain scattered Islands, which might escape their knowledge: It had been to Pyrrhonize a thousand years ago, had any man gone about to make a question of the art of Cosmography: and the opinions that have been received thereof, of all men in General: It had been flat heresy to avouch, that there were Antipodes. See how in our age an infinite greatness of firm land hath been discovered, not an Island only, nor one particular country, but a part in greatness very near equal unto that which we knew. Our modern Geographers cease not to affirm, that now all is found, and all is discovered; Nam quod adest praesto, placet, & pollere videtur, ●b. 1422. For, what is present here Seems strong, is held most dear. The question is now, if Ptolomey was heretofore deceived in the grounds of his reason, whether it were not folly in me, to trust what these late follows say of it, and whether it be not more likely, that this huge body, which we term the World, is another manner of thing, than we judge it. Plato saith, that it often changeth his countenance, that the Heaven, the Stars, and the Sun do sometimes re-enverse the motion we perceive in them, changing the East into West. The Egyptian Priests, told Heredotus, that since their first King, which was eleven thousand and odd years (when they made him see the pictures of all their former Kings, drawn to the life in statues) the Sun had changed his course four times: That the sea and the earth do interchangeably change one into another; that the worlds birth is undetermined: The like said, Aristotle and Cicero. And some one amongst us averreth, that it is altogether eternal, mortal, and new reviving again, by many Vicissitudes, calling Solomon and Esay to witness: avoid these oppositions, that God hath sometimes been a Creator without a creature: that he hath been idle; that he hath unsaide his idleness, by setting his hand to this work, and that by consequence he is subject unto change. In the most famous Schools of Greece, the World is reputed a God, framed by another greater and mightier God, and is composed of a body and a soul, which abideth in his centre, spreading itself by Musical numbers unto his circumference, divine, thrise-happy, very great, most wise and eternal. In it are other Gods, as the Sea, the earth, and plants, which mutually entertain one another, with an harmonious and perpetual agitation and celestial dance; sometimes meeting, othertimes farre-sundering themselves; now hiding then showing themselves; and changing place, now forward, now backward. Heraclitus firmly maintained, that the World was composed of fire, and by the destinies order, it should one day burst forth into flames, and be so consumed into cinders, and another day it should be new borne again. And Apulcius of men saith; sigillatim mortales, cunctim perpetui: severally mortal, altogether everlasting. L. Apul. de deo Socrat. Alexanderwrit unto his mother the narration of an Egyptian Priest, drawn from out their monuments, witnessing the antiquity of that Nation, infinite; and comprehending the birth and progress of their countries to the life. Cicero and Diodorus, said in their days, that the Chaldeans kept a register of four hundred thousand and odd years. Aristotle, Pliny, and others, that Zoroaster lived six thousand years before Plato. And Plato saith, that those of the city of Sa●s, have memories in writing of eight thousand years, and that the town of Athens, was built a thousand years before the city of Sa●s. Epicurus, that at one same time, all things that are, look how we see them, they are all alike, and in the same fashion, indivers other Worlds, which he would have spoken more confidently, had he seen the similitudes and correspondencies, of this newfound world of the West-Indiaes, with ours, both present and past, by so many strange examples. Truly, when I consider what hath followed our learning by the course of this terrestrial policy, I have divers times wondered at myself, to see in so great a distance of times and places, the sympathy or jumping of so great a number of popular and wild opinions, and of extravagant customs and beliefs, and which by no means seem to hold with our natural discourse. Man's spirit is a wonderful worker of miracles. But this relation hath yet a kind of I wot not what more Heteroclite: which is found both in names, and in a thousand other things. For, there were found Nations, which (as far as we know) had never heard of us, where circumcision was held in request; where great states and common wealths were maintained only by Women, and no men: Where our fasts and Lent was represented, adding thereunto the abstinence from women; where our crosies were several ways in great esteem; In some places they adorned and honoured their sepulchers with them, and elsewhere, especially that of Saint Andrew, they employed to shield themselves from nightly visions, and to lay them upon children's couches, as good against enchantments and witchcrafts: In another place, they found one made of Wood, of an exceeding height, worshipped for the God of rain: which was thrust very deep into the ground: There was found a very express and lively image of our Penitentiaries: the use of Myters-the Priests single life; the Art of Divination by the entrails of sacrificed beasts; the abstinence from all sorts of flesh & fish, for their food; the order amongst Priests in saying of their divine service, to use, a not vulgar, but a particular tongue; and this erroneous and fond conceit, that the first God was expelled his throne by a younger brother of his: That they were at ●●●● created with all commodities, which afterward by reason of their sins were abridged them: That their territory hath been changed; that their natural condition hath been much impaired: That they have heretofore been drowned by the inundation of Waters come from heaven; that none were saved but a few families, which cast themselves into the cracks or hollow of high Mountains, which cracks they stopped very close, so that the Waters could not enter in, having before shut therein many kinds of beasts: That when they perceived the Rain to cease, and Waters to shall, they first sent out certain dogs which returning clean-was●t, and wet, they judged that the waters were not yet much fallen; and that afterward sending out some other, which seeing to return all muddy and foul, they issued forth of the mountains, to repeople the world again, which they found replenished only with Serpents. There were places found, where they used the persuasion of the day of judgement, so that they grew wondrous wroth and offended with the Spaniards, who in digging and searching of riches in their graves, scattered here and there the bones of their deceased friends; saying that those dispersed bones could very hardly be reconjoyned together again. They also found where they used traffic by exchange, and no otherwise; and had Fairs and Markets for that purpose: They found dwarves, and such other deformed creatures, used for the ornament of Prince's tables: They found the use of hawking and fowling according to the Nature of their birds: tyrannical subsides, and grievances upon subjects; delicate in pleasant gardens; dancing, tumbling; leaping and juggling, music of instruments, armouries, dicing-houses, tennisse-courtes, and casting lots, or mumne-chaunce, wherein they are often so earnest and moody, that they will play themselves and their liberty: using no other physic but by charms: the manner of writing by figures: believing in one first man, universal father of all people: The adoration of one God, who heretofore lived man, in perfect Virginity, fasting, and penance, preaching the law of Nature, and the ceremonies of religion; and who vanished out of the world, without any natural death: The opinion of Giants; the use of drunkenness, with their manner of drinks, and drinking and pledging of healths: religious ornaments, painted over with bones and dead-men's skulls; surplices, holy-Water, and holy-Water sprinkles: Women and Servaunts, which strivingly present themselves, to be burned or interred with their deceased husbands, or masters▪ a law that the eldest or first borne child shall succeed and inherit all; where nothing is reserved for Punies, but obedience: a custom to the promotion of certain officers of great authority, and where he that is promoted takes upon him a new name, and quiteth his own: Where they use to cast lime upon the knees of new borne children, saying unto him; from dust thou camest and to dust thou shalt return again: the Arts of Augurs or prediction. These vain shadows of our religion, which are seen in some of these examples, witness the dignity and divinity thereof. It hath not only in some sort insinuated itself among all the infidel Nations, on this side by some imitations, but amongst those barbarous Nations beyond, as it were by a common and supernatural inspiration: For amongst them was also found the belief of Purgatory, but after a new form: For, what we ascribe unto fire, they impute unto cold, and imagine that souls are both purged and punished by the vigour of an extreme coldness. This example putteth me in mind of another pleasant diversity: For, as there were some people found, who took pleasure to unhood the end of their yard, and to cut off the foreskin, after the manner of the Mahometans and jews, some there were found, that made so great a conscience to unhood it, that with little strings, they carried their foreskin very carefully outstretched and fastened above, for fear that end should see the air. And of this other diversity also, that as we honour our Kings, and celebrate our Holidays with decking and trimming ourselves with the best habilliements we have; in some regions there, to show all disparity and submission to their King, their subjects present themselves unto him in their basest and meanest apparel; and entering into his palace, they take some old torn garment and put it over their other attire, to the end all the glory and ornament may shine in their Sovereign and Master. But let us go on: If Nature enclose within the limits of her ordinary progress, as all other things, so the beliefs, the judgements and the opinions of men; if they have their revolutions, their seasons, their birth, and their death, even as Cabiches: If heaven doth move, agitate and roll them at his pleasure, what powerful and permanent authority do we ascribe unto them? If by uncontrolled experience we palpably touch, that the form of our being depends of the air, of the climate, and of the soil wherein we are borne, and not only the hue, the stature, the complexion and the countenance, but also the soul's faculties: Et plaga coeli non solúm ad rebur corporum, sed eiam animorum facit. The climate helpeth not only for strength of body, but of minds, saith Vegetius: And that the Goddess foundress of the City of Athens, chose a temperature of a country to situate it in, that mightmake the men wise, as the Egyptian Priests taught Solon: Athen●s tenue coelum: ex quo etiam acutiores putantur ●ic. de ●●to. A●tici: crassum Thebis: itaque pingues Thebani, & valentes: About Athens is a thin air, whereby those Countrymen are esteemed the sharper-●itted: About Thebes the air is gross, and therefore the Thebans were gross and strong of constitution. In such manner that as fruits and beasts do spring up divers and different; So men are borne, either more or less warlike, martial, just, temperate and docile: here subject to wine, there to theft, and whoredom; here inclined to superstition, addicted to misbelieving; here given to liberty, there to servitude; capable of some one Art or Science; grose-witted or ingenious: either obedient or rebellious; good or bad, according as the inclination of the place beareth, where they are seated; and being removed from one soil to another (as plants are) they take a new complexion: which was the cause, that Cirus would never permit the Persians to leave their barren, rough and craggy Country, for to transport themselves into another, more gentle, more fertile, and more plain,: saying that fat and delicious countries, make men wanton and effeminate; and fertile soils yield infertile spirits. If sometimes we see one art to flourish, or a belief, and sometimes another, by some heavenly influence; some ages to produce this or that nature, and so to incline mankind to this or that bias: men's spirits one while flourishing, another while barren, even as fields are seen to be? what become of all those goodly prerogatives, wherewith we still flatter ourselves? Since a wise man may mistake himself; yea many men, and whole nations; and as we say, means nature either in one thing or other, hath for many ages together mistaken herself. What assurance have we that at any time she leaveth her mistaking▪ and that she continueth not even at this day, in her error? Me thinks amongst other testimonies of our imbecilities, this one ought not to be forgotten, that by wishing itself, man cannot yet find out what he wanteth; that not by enjoying our possessing, but by imagination and full wishing, we can not all agree in one, that we most stand in needof, and would best content us. Let our imagination have free liberty to cut out and sew at her pleasure, she cannot so much as desire what is fittest to please and content her. — quid enim ratione timemus juven. sat. 10. 4 Aut cupimus? quid tam dextro pede concipis, ut te Conatus non poeniteat, votique peracti? By reason what do we fear, or desire? With such dexterity what dost aspire, But thou eftsoons repentest it, Though thy attempt and vow do hit? That is the reason why Socrates, never requested the gods to give him any thing, but what they knew to be good for him. And the public and private prayer of the Lacedæmonians, did merely imply, that good and fair things might be granted them, remitting the election and choice of them to the discretion of the highest power. Coniugium petimus partúmque uxoris, at illi Ibid. 352. Notum qui pueri, qualisque futura sit uxor. We wish a wife, wives breeding: we would know, What children; shall our wife be sheep or shrew? And the Christian beseecheth God, that his will may be done, lest he should fall into that inconvenience, which Poets feign of King Midas: who requested of the Gods, that whatsoever he touched, might be converted into gold: his prayers were heard, his wine was gold, his bread gold, the feathers of his bed, his shirt, and his garments were turned into gold, so that he found himself overwhelmed in the enjoying of his desire, and being enriched with an intolerable commodity, he must now unpray his prayers: Attonitus novitate mali, diuésque misérque, Ovid Met. lib. 11. 128. Effugere optat opes, & quae modó voverat, odit. Wretched and rich, amazed at so strange ill, His riches he would fly, hates his own will. Let me speak of myself; being yet very young. I besought fortune above all things, that she would make me a knight of the order of Saint Michael, which in those days was very rare, and the highest type of honour the French Nobility aimed at. She very kindly granted my request; I had it. In lieu of raising and advancing me from my place, for the attaining of it, she hath much more graciously entreated me, she hath abased and depressed it, even unto my shoulders and under. Cleobis and Biton, Trophonius and Agamedes, the two first having besought the Goddess, the two latter their God, of some recompense worthy their piety, received death for a reward: So much are heavenly opinions different from ours, concerning what we have needof. God might grant us riches, honours, long life and health, but many times to our own hurt: For, whatsoever is pleasing to us, is not always healthful for us; If in lieu of former health, he send us death, or some worse sickness: Virga Psal. 23. 4. tua & baculus tuus ipsa me consolata sunt: Thy rod and thy staff hath comforted me. He doth it by the reasons of his providence, which more certainly considereth and regardeth what is meet for us, than we ourselves can do, and we ought to take it in good part, as from a most wise and thrice-friendy-hand. — si concilium vis juven. sat. 10. 346. Permits ipsis expendere numinibus, quid Conveniat nobis, rebúsque sit utile nostris: Charior est illis homo quám sibi— If you will counsel have, give the Gods leave To weigh, what is most meet we should receive, And what for our estate most profit were: To them, then to himself man is more dear. For, to crave honours and charges of them, is to request them to cast you in some battle, or play at hazard, or some such thing, whereof the event is unknown to you, and the fruit uncertain. There is no combat amongst Philosophers so violent and sharp, as that which ariseth upon the question of man's chief felicity: from which (according to Varroes' calculation) arose two hundred and four score Sects. Qui autem de summo bono dissentit, de tota Philosophiae ratione disputat. But he that disagrees about the chiefest felicity, calls in question the whole course of Philosophy. Tres mihi convivae propè dissentire videntur, Hor. lib. 2. epist. 2. 61. Poscentes vario multum divers●palato. Quid dem? quid non dem? renuis tu quod jubet alter: Quod petis, id sanè est invisum acidúmque duobus. Three guests of mine do seem almost at odds to fall, Whilst they with diverse taste for diverse things do call: What should I give? What not? You will not, what he will: What you would, to them twain is hateful, sour and ill. Nature should thus answer their contestations, and debates. Some say, our felicity consisteth, and is in Virtue: Others in voluptuousness: Others in yielding unto Nature: Some others in learning: others in feeling no manner of pain or sorrow: Others for a man never to suffer himself to be carried away by appearances: and to this opinion seemeth this other of ancient Pythagoras to incline, Niladmir ar● propè res es● una, Numici, Lib. 1 epist. 6. 1. Soláque quae possit facere & servare beatum. Sir, nothing to admire is th'only thing, That may keep happy, and to happy bring. which is the end and scope of the Pyrrhonian Sect. Aristotle ascribeth unto magnanimity, to admire and wonder at nothing. And Arcesila●s said, that sufferance, and an upright and inflexible state of judgement, were true felicities; whereas consents and applications, were vices and evils. True it is, that where he establisheth it for a certain Axiom, he stared from Pyrrhonism. When the Pirrhonians say, that Ataraxy is the chief felicity, which is the immobility of judgement, their meaning is not to speak it affirmatively, but the very wavering of their mind, which makes them to shun downfalls, and to shroud themselves under the shelter of calmness, presents this fantasy unto them, and makes them refuse another. Oh how mu●h do I desire, that whilst I live, either some other learned men, or Ensues Lipsius, the most sufficient and learned man now living; of a most polished and judicious wit, true Cosin-germane to my Turnebus, had both will, health and leisure enough, sincerely and exactly, according to their divisions and forms, to collect into on volume or register, as much as by us might be seen, the opinions of ancient Philosophy, concerning the subject of our being and customs, their controversies, the credit, & partaking of factions and sides, the application of the Authors and Sectators lives, to their precepts, in memorable and exemplary accidents. O what a worthy and profitable labour would it be! Besides, if it be from ourselves that we draw the regiment of our customs, into what a bottomless confusion do we cast ourselves? For, what our reason persuades us to be most likely for it, is generally for every man to obey the laws of his country, as is the advice of Socrates, inspired (saith he) by a divine persuasion. And what else meaneth she thereby, but only that our devoir or duty hath no other rule, but casual? Truth ought to have a like and universal visage throughout the world. Law and justice, if man knew any, that had a body and true essence, he would not fasten it to the condition of this or that country's customs. It is not according to the Persians or Indians fantazie, that virtue should take her form. Nothing is more subject unto a continual agitation, than the laws. I have since I was borne, seen those of our neighbours the Englishmen changed and rechanged three or four times, not only in politic subjects, which is, that some will dispense of constancy, but in the most important subject, that possibly can be, that is to say in religion, whereof I am so much the more both grieved and ashamed, because it is a nation, with which my countrymen have heretofore had so inward and familiar acquaintance, that even to this day, there remain in my house some ancient monuments of our former alliance. Nay I have seen amongst ourselves some things become lawful, which erst were deemed capital: and we that hold some others, are likewise in possibility, according to the uncertainty of warring fortune, one day or other, to be offenders against the Majesty both of God and man, if our justice chance to fall under the mercy of injustice; and in the space of few years possession, taking a contrary essence. How could that ancient God more evidently accuse, in human knowledge, the ignorance of divine essence, and teach men that their religion was but a piece of their own invention, fit to combine their society, then in declaring (as he did) to those which sought the instruction of it, by his sacred Tripos, that the true worshipping of God, was that, which he found to be observed by the custom of the place, where he lived? Oh God, what bond, or duty is it, that we owe not unto our Sovereign Creator's benignity, in that he hath been pleased to clear and enfranchize our belief from those vagabonding and arbitrary devotions, & fixed it upon the eternal Base of his holy word? What will Philosophy then say to us in this necessity? that we follow the laws of our country, that is to say, this waving sea of a peoples or of a Prince's opinions, which shall paint me forth justice with as many colours, and reform the same into as many visages as there are changes and alterations of passions in them. I cannot have my judgement so flexible. What goodness is that, which but yesterday I saw in credit and esteem, and to morrow, to have lost all reputation, and that the crossing of a River, is made a crime? What truth is that, which these Mountains bound, and is a lie in the World beyond them? But they are pleasant, when to allow the Laws some certainty, they say, that there be some firm, perpetual and immovable, which they call natural, and by the condition of their proper essence, are imprinted in mankind: of which some make three in number, some, four some more, some less: an evident token, that it is a mark as doubtful as the rest. Now are they so unfortunate (for, how can I term that but misfortune, that of so infinite a number of laws, there is not so much as one to be found, which the fortune or temerity of chance hath granted to be universally received, and by the consent and unanimity of all Nations to be admitted?) They are (I say) so miserable, that of these three or four choise-selected laws, there is not one alone, that is not impugned or disallowed, not by one nation, but by many. Now is the generality of approbation, the only likely ensign, by which they may argue some laws to be natural: For, what nature had indeed ordained us, that should we doubtless follow with one common consent; and not one only nation, but every man in particular, should have a feeling of the force and violence, which he should urge him with, that would incite him to contrary and resist that Law. Let them all (for examples sake) show me but one of this condition. Protagoras and Ariston gave the justice of the laws no other essence, but the authority and opinion of the Lawgiver, and that excepted, both Good and Honest lost their qualities, and remained but vain and idle names, of indifferent things. Thrasymachus in Plato, thinks there is no other right, but the commodity of the superior. There is nothing wherein the world differeth so much, as in customs and laws. Somethings are here accounted abominable, which in another place are esteemed commendable: as in Lacedemonia, the slight and subt●ltie in stealing. Marriages in proximity of blood are amongst us forbidden as capital, elsewhere they are allowed and esteemed; — gentes esse ferunt●r, O●id. Metam. lib▪ 10. 331. In quibus & nato genitrix, & nata parenti jungitur, & p●etas geminato crescit amore. There are some people, where the mother weddeth Her son, the daughter her own father beddeth, And so by doubled love, their kindness spreadeth. the murdering of children and of parents; the communication with women; traffic of robbing and stealing; free licence to all manner of sensuality: to conclude, there is nothing so extreme and horrible, but is found to be received and allowed by the custom of some nation. It is credible that there be natural laws; as may be seen in other creatures, but in us they are lost: this goodly human reason engrafting itself among all men, to sway and command, confounding and topsie-turving the visage of all things, according to her inconstant vanity and vain inconstancy. Nihil it aque amplius nostrum est, quod nostrum dico, art●s est. Therefore nothing more is ours: all that I call ours, belongs to Arte. Subjects have diverse lustres, and several considerations, whence the diversity of opinions is chiefly engendered. One nation vieweth a subject with one visage, and thereon it stays; an other with an other. Nothing can be imagined so horrible, as for one to eat and devour his own father. Those people, which anciently kept this custom, hold it nevertheless for a testimony of piety and good affection: seeking by that mean to give their fathers the worthiest and most honourable sepulchre, harboring their father's bodies & relics in themselves and in their marrow; in some sort reviving and regenerating them by the transmutation made in their quick flesh, by digestion and nourishment. It is easy to be considered what abomination and cruelty it had been, in men accustomed and trained in this inhuman superstition, to cast the carcases of their parents into the corruption of the earth, as food for beasts and worms. Lycurgus' wisely considered in theft, the vivacity, diligence, courage, and nimbleness, that is required in surprising or taking any thing from one's neighbour, and the commodity which thereby redoundeth to the commonwealth, that every man heedeth more curiously the keeping of that which is his own: and judged, that by this two fold institution to assail and to defend, much good was drawn for military discipline (which was the principal Science and chief virtue, wherein he would enable that nation) of greater respect and more consideration, than was the disorder and injustice of prevailing and taking other men's goods.▪ Dionysius the tyrant offered Plato a rob made after the Persian fashion, long, damasked and perfumed: But he refused the same, saying, that being borne a man, he would not willingly put-on a woman's garment: But Aristippus took it, with this answer, that no garment could corrupt a chaste mind. His Friends reproved his demissenesse, in being so little offended, that Dionysius had spitten in his face. Tut (said he) Fishers suffer themselves to be washed over head and ears, to get a gudgeon. Diogenes washing of coleworts for his dinner, seeing him pass by, said unto him, If thou couldst live with coleworts, thou wouldst not cour● and faun upon a tyrant; to whom Aristippus replied; If thou couldst live among men, thou wouldst not wash coleworts. See here how reason yieldeth appearance to diverse effects. It is a pitcher with two ears, which a man may take hold-on, either by the right or left hand. — bellum ô terra hospita portas, Virg. Ae●▪ lib 3. 559. Bello armantur equi, bellum haec arment a minantur: Sed tamen ijdem molim curru succedere sueti Quadrupedes, & franaiugo concordia serre.▪ Spes est pacis— O stranger-harb'ring land, thou bringst us war; Steed's serve for war; These heard's do threaten jar. Yet horses erst were wont to draw our wanes, And harnessed matches bear agreeing rains; Hope is hereby that we, In peace shall well agree. Solon being importuned not to shed vain and bottles tears for the death of his son; That's the reason (answered he) I may more justly shed them, because they are bootless and vain. Socrates' his wife, exasperated her grief by this circumstance; Good Lord (said she) how unjustly do these bad judges put him to death! What? wouldst thou rather they should execute me justly? replied he to her. It is a fashion amongst us to have holes bored in our ●ares: the greeks held it for a badge of bondage. We hide ourselves when we will enjoy our wives: The Indians do it in open view of all men. The Scythians were wont to sacrifice strangers in their Temples, whereas in other places Churches are Sanctuaries for them. Ind furor vulgi, quòd numina vicinorum ●●ue. sat. 15. 36 Odit quisque locus, cum solos credat habendos Esse Deos quos ipse colit— The vulgar hereupon doth rage, because Each place doth hate their neighbours sovereign laws, And only Gods doth deem, Those Gods themselves esteem. I have heard it reported of a judge, who when he met with any sharp conflict between Bartolus and Baldus, or with any case admitting contrariety, was wont to write in the margin of his book, A question for a friend, which is to say, that the truth was so entangled, and disputable, that in such a case he might favour which party he should think good. There was no want but of spirit and sufficiency, if he set not every where through his books, A Question for a friend. The Advocates and judges of our time find in all cases by asses too-too-many, to fit them where they think good. To so infinite a science, depending on the authority of so many opinions, and of so arbitrary a subject, it cannot be, but that an exceeding confusion of judgements must arise. There are very few processes so clear, but the lawyers advices upon them will be found to differ: What one company hath judged, another will adjudge the contrary, and the very same will another time change opinion. Whereof we see ordinary examples by this licence, which wonderfully blemisheth the authority and lustre of our Law, never to stay upon one sentence, but to run from one to another judge, to decide one same case. Touching the liberty of Philosophical opinions, concerning vice and virtue, it is a thing needing no great extension, and wherein are found many advices, which were better unspoken, then published to weak capacities. Arcesilaus was wont to say, that in pailliardize, it was not worthy consideration, where, on what side, and how it was done. Et obs●oenas volupt at es, si not ura 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 quam usque aet ●tem i●ven●s amandi sint. Obscene pleasures, if nature require them, the Epicure esteemeth not to be measured by kind, place, or order▪ but by form, age, and fashion. Nor doth he think that holy loves should be strange from a wiseman. Let us then question to what years young folk may be beloved. These two last Stoic places, and upon this purpose, the reproach of Diogarchus to Plato himself, show how many excessive licenses, and out of common use, soundest Philosophy doth tolerate. Laws take their authority from possession and custom: It is dangerous to reduce them to their beginning: In rolling on, they swell, and grow greater and greater, as do our rivers: follow them upward, unto their source, & you shall find them but a bubble of water, scarce to be discerned, which in gliding on swelleth so proud, & gathers so much strength. Behold the ancient considerations, which have given the first motion to this famous torrent, so full of dignity, of honour and reverence, you shall find them so light and weak, that these men which will weigh all, and complain of reason, and who receive nothing upon trust and authority, it is no wonder if their judgements are often far distant from common judgement. Men that take Natures first image for a pattern, it is no marvel, if in most of their opinions, they miss the common-beaten path. As for example; few amongst them would have approved the forced conditions of our marriages, and most of them would have had women in community, and without any private respect. They refused our ceremonies: Chrysippus said, that some Philosophers would in open view of all men show a dozen of tumbling-tricks, yea, without any slops or breeches, for a dozen of olives. He would hardly have persuaded Calisthenes to refuse his fair daughter Agarista to Hippoclides, because he had seen him graff the forked tree in her upon a table. Metrocles somewhat indiscreetly, as he was disputing in his School, in presence of his Auditory let a fart, for shame whereof he afterward kept his house, and could not be drawn abroad, until such time as Crates went to visit him, who to his persuasions and reasons, adding the example of his liberty, began to fart a vie with him, and to remove this scruple from off his conscience; and moreover, won him to his Stoical (the more free) Sect, from the Peripatetical (and more civil) one, which thetherunto he had followed. That which we call civility, not to dare to do that openly, which amongst us is both lawful and honest, being done in secret, they termed folly: And to play the wily Fox, in concealing and disclaiming what nature, custom, & our desire publish and proclaim of our actions, they deemed to be a vice. And thought it a suppressing of Venus her mysteries, to remove them from out the private vestry of her Temple, & expose them to the open view of the people. And that to draw his sports from out the Curtines, was to lose them▪ Shame is matter of some consequence. Concealing, reservation, and circumspection, are parts of estimation. That, sensuality under the mask of Virtue did very ingeniously procure not to be prostituted in the midst of highways, not trodden upon, and seen by the common sort; alleging the dignity and commodity of her wont Cabinets. Whereupon some say, that to forbid and remove the common brothel-houses, is not only to spread whoredom every where, which only was allotted to those places, but also to incite idle & vagabond men to that vice, by reason of the difficulty. Mart. ●●▪ 3. ep●●▪ 70. Moechus es A●●idiae qui vir Corvine fuisti, Rival●● fuerat qui ●uus, ill● vir ●st. Cur aliena placet tibi, quae tua non placet uxor? Nunquid securus non potes arrig●re? This experience is diversified by a thousand examples. Lib. 1. epig. 74. Nullus in Vrbefuit tota, qui tangere vellet Vxorem gratis Caeciliane tuam, Dum licuit: sed nunc positis custodibus, ●●gens Turba fututorum est. Ingeniosus homo es. A Philosopher being taken with the deed, was demanded, what he did: answered very mildly, I plant man, blushing no more being found so napping, then if he had been taken setting of Garlic. It is (as I suppose) of a tender and respective opinion, that a notable and religious Author, holds this action so necessarily-bound to secrecy and shame, that in Cynic embracements and dalliances, he could not be persuaded that the work should come to her end; but rather, that it lingered and stayed, only to represent wanton gestures, and lascivious motions, to maintain the impudency of their schooles-profession: and that to power forth what shame had forced and bashfulness restrained, they had also afterward need to seek some secret place. He had not seen farre-enough into their licentiousness: For, Diogenes in sight of all, exercising his Masturbation, bred a longing-desire, in the bystanders, that in such sort they might fill their bellies by rubbing or clawing the same. To those that asked him, why he sought for no fitter place to feed in, then in the open frequented high way, he made answer, It is because I am hungry in the open frequented highway. The Philosopher's Women, which meddled with their Sects, did likewise in all places, and without any discretion meddle with their bodies: And Crates had never received Hipparchia into his fellowship, but upon condition, to follow all the customs and fashions of his order. These Philosophers set an extreme rate on virtue; and rejected all other disciplines, except the moral; yet is it, that in all actions, they ascribed the Sovereign authority to the election of their wise, yea, and above all laws: & appointed no other restraint unto voluptuousness, but themoderation, & preservation of others liberty▪ Heraclitus & Protagoras, forsomuch as wine seemeth bitter unto the sick, and pleasing to the healthy; and an Oar crooked in the water, and strait to those that see it above water, & suchlike contrary appearances, which are sound in some subjects; argued that all subjects had the causes of these appearances in them; and that, there was some kind of bitterness in the wine, which had a reference unto the sick-man's taste; in the Oar a certain crooked quality, having relation to him that seeth it in the water. And so of all things else. Which implieth, that all is in all things, & by consequence nothing in any: for either nothing is, or all is. This opinion put me in mind of the experience we have, that there is not any one sense or visage, either strait or crooked, bitter or sweet, but man's wit shall find in the writings, which he undertaketh to runne-over. In the purest, most unspotted, and most absolutely-perfectworde, that possibly can be, how many errors, falsehoods, and lies have been made to proceed fromit? What heresy hath not found testimonies and ground sufficient, both to undertake and to maintain it ●e●e? It is therefore, that the Authors of such errors will never go from this proof of the Testimony of words interpretation. A man of worth, going about by authority to approve the search of the Philosopher's stone, (wherein he was overwhelmd) alleged at least five or six several passages out of the holy bible unto me, upon which (he said) he had at first grounded himself, for the discharge of his conscience (for he is a man of the Ecclesiastical profession) & truly, the invention of them, was not only pleasant, but also very fitly applied to the defence of this goodly & mind-inchanting science. This way is the credit of divining fables attained to. There is no prognosticator, if he have but this authority, that any one will but vouchsafe to read him over, and curiously to search all the infoldings and lustres of his words, but a man shall make him say what he pleaseth, as the Sibyl's. There are so many means of interpretation, that it is hard, be it flatlong, sidelong, or edge-long, but an ingenious and pregnant wit, shall in all subjects meet with some air that will fit his turn. Therefore is a cloudy, dark, and ambiguous style found in so frequent and ancient custom. That the Author may gain, to draw, allure, and busy posterity to himself, which not only the sufficiency, but the casual favour of the matter, may gain as much or more. As for other matters, let him, be it either through foolishness or subtlety, show himself somewhat obscure and diverse, it is no matter, care not he for that. A number of spirits sifting, and tossing him-over, will find and express sundry forms, either according, or collaterally, or contrary to his own▪ all which shall do him credit He shall see himself enriched by the means of his Disciples, as the Grammar School Masters. It is that, which hath made many things of nothing, to pass very currant, that hath brought diverse books in credit, and charged with all sorts of matter, that any hath but desired: one self same thing admitting a thousand and a thousand, and as many several images, and diverse considerations, as it best pleaseth us. Is it possible, that ever Homer meant all that, which some make him to have meant. And that he prostrated himself to so many, and so several shapes, as, Divines, Lawyers, Captains, Philosophers & all sort of people else, which, how diversely and contrary soever it be, they treat of sciences, do notwithstanding wholly rely upon him, & refer them-selves unto him; as a General Master for all offices, works, sciences, & tradesmen & an universal counsellor in all enterprises? whosoever hath had need of Oracles or Predictions, & would apply them to himself, hath found them in him for his purpose. A notable man, & a good friend of mine, would make one marvel to hear what strange far-fetched conceits, and admirable affinities, in favour of our religion, he maketh to derive from him; And can hardly be drawn from this opinion, but that such was Homer's intent & meaning (yet is Homer so familiar unto him, as I think no man of our age is better acquainted with him.) And what he finds in favour of religion, many ancient learned men, have found in favour of theirs. See how Plato is tossed and turned over, every man endevoring to apply him to his purpose, giveth him what construction he list. He is wrested & inserted to all newfangled opinions, that the world receiveth or alloweth of, and according to the different course of subjects is made to be repugnant unto himself. Every one according to his sense makes him to disavow the customs that were lawful in his days, in as much as they are unlawful in these times. All which is very lively and strongly maintained, according as the wit and learning of the interpreter is strong and quick. Upon the ground which Heraclitus had, and that sentence of his; that all things had those shapes in them, which men found in them. And Democritus out of the very same drew a clean contrary conclusion, id est, that subjects had nothing at all in them of that which we found in them; And forasmuch as honey was sweet to one man, and bitter to another, he argued that honey was neither sweet nor bitter. The Pyrrhonians would say, they know not whether it be sweet or bitter, or both, or neither: For, they ever gain the highest point of doubting. The Cyrenaicks held, that nothing was perceptible outwardly, and only that was perceivable, which by the inward touch or feeling, touched or concerned us, as grief and sensuality, distinguishing neither tune, nor colours, but only certain affections, that came to us of them; and that man had no other seat of his judgement. Protagoras deemed, that to be true to all men, which to all men seemeth so. The Epicurians, place all judgement in the senses, and in the notice of things, and in voluptuousness. Plato's mind was, that the judgement of truth, and truth itself drawn from opinions and senses, belonged to the spirit, and to cogitation. This discourse hath drawn me to the consideration of the senses, wherein consisteth the greatest foundation and trial of our ignorance. Whatsoever is known, is without all peradventure known by the faculty of the knower: For, since the judgement cometh from the operation of him that judgeth, reason requireth, that he perform and act this operation by his means and will, and not by others compulsion: As it would follow if we knew things by the force, and according to the law of their essence. Now all knowledge is addressed into us by the senses, they are our masters: — via quâ munit a fidei Lu●r. l. 5. 100LS. Proxima fert humanum in pectus, templáque mentis: Whereby a way for credit leads well-linde Into man's breast and temple of his mind. Science begins by them & in them is resolved. After all, we should know no more than a stone, unless we know, that there is, sound, smell, light, savour, measure, weight, softness, hardness, sharpness, colour, smoothness, breadth and depth. Behold here the platform of all the frame, and principles of the building of all our knowledge. And according to some, science is nothing else, but what is known by the senses. Whosoever can force me to contradict my senses, hath me fast by the throat, and can not make me recoil one foot backward. The senses are the beginning and end of human knowledge. Invenies primis ab sensibus esse creatam lib 4. 480. Notitiam veri, neque sensus posse refelli. Quid maiore fide porrò quam sensus haberi 484. Debet?— You shall find knowledge of the truth at first was bred From our first senses, nor can senses be misled. What, than our senses, should With us more credit hold? Attribute as little as may be unto them, yet must this ever be granted them, that all our instruction is addressed by their means & intermission. Cicero saith, that Chrysippus having assayed to abate the power of his senses, and of their virtue, presented contrary arguments unto himself, and so vehement oppositions, that he could not satisfy himself. Whereupon Car●eades (who defended the contrary part) boasted, that he used the very same weapons and words of Chrysippus to combat against him; and therefore cried out upon him. Oh miserable man! thine own strength hath foiled thee. There is no greater absurdity in our judgement, then to maintain, that fire heateth not, that light shineth not, that in iron there is neither weight nor firmness, which are notices our senses bring unto us: Nor belief or science in man, that may be compared unto that, in certainty. The first consideration I have upon the senses subject, is, that I make a question, whether man be provided of all natural senses, or no. I see diverse creatures, that live an entire and perfect life, some without sight, and some without hearing; who knoweth whether we also want either one, two, three, or many senses more: For, if we want any one, our discourse cannot discover the want or defect thereof. It is the senses privilege, to be the extreme bounds of our perceiving. There is nothing beyond them, that may stead us to discover them: No one sense can discover another. An poterunt oculos aures reprehendere, an aures 488. Tactus, an hunc porro tactum sapor arguet oris, An confutabunt nares, oculive revincent? Can ears the eyes, or can touch reprehend The ears, or shall mouths-taste that touch amend? Shall our nose it confute, Or eyes 'gainst it dispute? They all make the extremest line of our faculty. — scorsum cuique potestas 491. Divisa est, sua vis cuique est— To each distinctly might Is shar'de, each hath its right. It is impossible to make a man naturally blind, to conceive that he seeth not; impossible to make him desire to see, and sorrow his defect. Therefore ought we not to take assurance, that our mind is contented and satisfied with those we have, seeing it hath not wherewith to feel her own malady, and perceive her imperfection, if it be in any. It is impossible to tell that blind man any thing, either by discourse, argument, or similitude, that lodgeth any apprehension of light, colour, or sight in his imagination. There is nothing more backward, that may push the senses to any evidence. The blind-borne, which we perceive desire to see, it is not to understand what they require; they have learned of us, that something they want, and something they desire, that is in us, with the effect & consequences thereof, which they call good: Yet w●t not they what it is, nor apprehend they it near or far. I have seen a Gentleman of a good house, borne blind, at least blind in such an age, that he knows not what sight is; he understandeth so little what he wanteth, that as we do, he useth words fitting sight, and applieth them after a manner only proper and peculiar to himself. A child being brought before him, to whom he was godfather, taking him in his arms, he said, good Lord what a fine child this is ●it is a goodly thing to see him: What a cheerful countenance he hath, how prettily he looketh. He will say as one of us. This hall hath a fair prospect: It is very fair weather: The Sun shines clear. Nay, which is more; because hunting, hawking, tennis-play, and shuting at butts are our common sports and exercises (for so he hath heard) his mind will be so affected unto them, and he will so busy himself about them, that he will think to have as great an interest in them, as any of us, and show himself as earnestly passionate, both in liking and disliking them as any else; yet doth he conceive and receive them but by hearing. If he be in a fair champain ground, where he may ride, they will tell him, yonder is a Hare started, or the Hare is killed, he is as busily earnest of his game, as he heareth others to be, that have perfect sight. Give him a ball, he takes it in the left hand, and with the right streekes it away with his racket; In a piece he shutes at random; and is well pleased with what his men tell him, be it high or wide. Who knows whether mankind commit as great a folly, for want of some sense, and that by this default, the greater part of the visage of things be concealed from us? Who knows whether the difficulties we find in sundry of Nature's works, proceed thence? And whether divers effects of beasts, which exceed our capacity, are produced by the faculty of some sense, that we want? And whether some of them, have by that mean a fuller and more perfect life than ours? We seize on an apple well-nigh with all our senses? We find redness, smoothness, odor and sweetness in it; besides which, it may have other virtues, either drying or binding, to which we have no sense to be referred. The proprieties which in many things we call secret, as in the Adamant to draw iron, it is not likely there should be sensitive faculties in nature able to judge and perceive them, the want whereof breedeth in us the ignorance of the true essence of such things? It is happily some particular sense that unto Cocks or Chanticleares discovereth the morning and midnight hour, and moveth them to crow: That teacheth a Hen, before any use or experience, to fear a Hawk, and not a Goose or a Peacock, far greater birds: That warneth young chickens of the hostile quality which the Cat hath against them, and not to distrust a Dog; to strut and arm themselves against the mewing of the one (in some sort a flattering and mild voice) and not against the barking of the other (a snarling & quarrellous voice:) that instructeth Rats, Wasps, and Emmets, ever to choose the best cheese and fruit, having never tasted them before: And that addresseth the Stag, the Elephant, and the Serpent, to the knowledge of certain herbs and simples, which, being either wounded or sick, have the virtue to cure them. There is no sense but hath some great domination, and which by his mean affordeth not an infinite number of knowledges. If we were to report the intelligence of sounds, of harmony and of the voice, it would bring an imaginable confusion to all the rest of our learning and science. For, besides what is tied to the proper effect of every sense, how many arguments, consequences and conclusions draw we unto other things, by comparing one sense to another? Let a skilful wise man but imagine human nature to be originally produced without sight and discourse, how much ignorance and trouble such a defect would bring unto him, and what obscurity and blindness in our mind: By that shall we perceive, how much the privation of one, or two, or three such senses, (if there be any in us) doth import us about the knowledge of truth. We have by the consultation & concurrence of our five senses form one Verity, whereas peradventure there was required the accord & consent of eight or ten senses, and their contribution, to attain a perspicuous insight of her, and see her in her true essence. Those Sects which combat man's science, do principally combat the same by the uncetainety and feebleness of our senses: For, since by their mean and intermission all knowledge comes unto us, if they chance to miss in the report they make unto us, if either they corrupt or alter that, which from abroad they bring unto us, if the light which by them is transported into our soul be obscured in the passage, we have nothing else to hold by. From this extreme difficulty are sprung all these fantasies, which every Subject containeth, whatsoever we find in it: That it hath not what we suppose to find in it: And that of the Epicurians, which is, that the Sun is no greater than our sight doth judge it, Quicquid id est, nihilo fortur maiore figurâ, quam nostris oculis quam cernimus esse videtur. Lucr. li. 5. 576. What ere it be, it in no greater form doth pass, Then to our eyes, which it behold, it seeming was. that the appearances, which represent a great body, to him that is near unto them, & a much lesser to him that is further from them, are both true; Nec tamen hic oculis falli concedimus hilum: Lib. 4. 380. 387. Proinde animi vitium hoc oculis adfingere noli. Yet grant we not in this our eyes deceived or blind, Impute not then to eyes this error of the mind. and resolutely, that there is no deceit in the senses: That a man must stand to their mercy, and elsewhere seek reasons to excuse the difference and contradiction we find in them; yea invent all other untruths, and raving conceits (so far come they) rather than accuse the causes. Timagoras swore, that howsoever he winked or turned his eyes, he could never perceive the light of the candle to double: And that this seeming proceeded from the vice of opinion, and not from the instrument. Of all absurdities, the most absurd amongst the Epicurians, is, to disavow the force and effect of the senses. Proinde quod in quoque est bis visum tempore, verum est. 502. Et si non potuit ratio dissolvere causam, Cur ea qu● fuerint iuxtim quadrata, procul sint Visa rotunda: tamen praestat rationis egent ●m Reddere mendosè causas utriúsque figurae, quam manibus manifesta suis emittere quoquam, Et violare fidem primam, & convellere tota Fundamenta, quibus nixatur vita salúsque. Non modò enim ratio ruat omnis, vita quoque ipsa Concidat extemplo, nisi creder●s●nsibus ausis, Praecipitésque locos vitare, & caetera quaesint In genere hoc fugienda.— Whatby the eyes is seen at any time, is true, Though the cause Reason could not render of the view, Why what was square at hand, a far-off seemed round, Yet it much better were, that wanting reasons ground The causes of both forms we harpon, but not hit, Then let slip from our hands things clear, and them omit, And violate our first belief, and rashly rend All those groundworks, whereon both life and health depend, For not alone all reasons falls, life likewise must fail out of hand, unless your senses you dare trust, And breakneck places, and all other errors shun, From which we in this kind most carefully should run. This desperate and so little-philosophicall counsel, represents no other thing, but that human science cannot be maintained but by unreasonable, fond & mad reason; yet is it better, that man use it to prevail, yea & of all other remedies else how fantastical soever they be, rather than avow his necessary foolishness: So prejudicial and disadvantageous a verity he cannot avoid, but senses must necessarily be the sovereign masters of his knowledge: But they are uncertain and falsifiable to all circumstances: There must a man strike to the utmost of his power, and if his just forces fail him (as they are wont) to use and employ obstinacy, temerity and impudency. If that which the Epicurians affirm, be true, that is to say, we have no science, if the appearances of the senses be false: and that which the Stoics say, if it is also true that the senses appearances are so false, as they can produce us no science: We will conclude at the charges of these two great Dogmatist Sects, that there is no science. Touching the error and uncertainty of the senses operation, a man may store himself with as many examples as he pleaseth, so ordinary are the faults and deceits they use towards us. And the echoing or reporting of a valley, the sound of a Trumpet seemeth to sound before us, which cometh a mile behind us. Extantésque procul medio de gurgite montes Lucr. l. 4. 398. jidem apparent long diver si licet.— Et fugere ad puppim colles camp●que videntur 390. Quos agimus propter navim.— — ubi in medio nobis equus acer obhaesit 423. Flumine, equi corpus transversum ferre videtur Vis, & in adversum flumen contrudere raptim. And hills, which from the main far-off to kenning stand, Appear all one, though they far distant be at hand. And hills and fields do seem unto our boat to fly, Which we drive by our boat as we do pass thereby. When in midst of a stream a stately Horse doth stay, The streams orethwarting seems his body cross to sway, And swiftly 'gainst the stream to thrust him th'other way. To roll a bullet under the forefinger, the middlemost being put over-it, a man must very much enforce himself, to affirm there is but one, so assuredly doth ou● sense present us two. That the senses do often master our discourse, and force it to receive impressions, which he knoweth and judgeth to be false, it is daily seen. I leave the sense of feeling, which hath his functions nearer, more quick and substantial, and which by the effect of the grief or pain it brings to the body doth so often confound and re-enverse all these goodly Stoical resolutions, and enforceth to cry out of the belly-ache him, who hath with all resolution established in his mind this Doctrine, that the chol●ke, as every other sicknesle or pain, is a thing indifferent, wanting power to abate any thing of Sovereign good or chief felicity, wherein the wise man is placed by his own virtue: there is no heart so demisse, but the ra●●ing sound of a drum▪ or the clang of a Trumpet, will rouse and inflame; nor mind so harsh and stern, but the sweetness and harmony of music, will move and tickle; nor any soul so skittish and stubborn, that hath not a feeling of some reverence, in considering the cloudy vastity and gloomy canapies of our churches, the eye-pleasing diversity of ornaments, and orderly order of our ceremonies, and hearing the devout and religious sound of our Organs, the moderate, simphoniall, and heaevenly harmony of our voices: Even those that enter into them with an obstinate will and contemning mind, have in their heart ● feel of remorse, of chillness, and horror, that puts them into a certain diffidence of their former opinions. As for me, I distrust mine own strength, to hear with a settled mind some of Horace or Catullus versessung with a sufficiently well tuned voice, uttered by, and proceeding from a fair, young, and hart-alluring mouth▪ And Zeno had reason to say, that the voice was the flower of beauty. Some have gone about to make me believe, that a man, who most of us French men know, in repeating certain verses he had made, had imposed upon me, that they were not such in writing, as in the air, and that mine eyes would judge of them otherwise then mine ears: so much credit hath pronunciation to give prize and fashion to those works that pass her mercy: Whereupon Philoxenus was not to be blamed, when hearing one to give an ill accent to some composition of his, he took in a rage some of his pots or bricks, and breaking them, trod and trampled them under his feet, saying unto him, I break and trample what is thine, even as thou manglest and marrest what is mine. Wherefore did they (who with an undaunted resolve have procured their own death, because they would not see the blow or stroke coming) turn their face away? And those who for their health's sake cause themselves to be cut and cauterized, cannot endure the sight of the preparations, tools, instruments and works of the Chirurgeon, but because the sight should have no part of the pain or smart? Are not these fit examples to verify the authority, which senses have over discourse? We may long-enough know that such a ones locks or flaring-tresses are borrowed of a Page, or taken from some Lackey, that this fair ruby-red came from Spain, & this whiteness or smoothness from the Ocean sea: yet must sight force us to find, and deem the subject more lovely and more pleasing, against all reason. For, in that there is nothing of its own, Auferimur cultu; gemmis, aur ôque teg●sntur Ovid. r●● a●. lib. 1. 343. Crimina, pars minima est ipsa puella sui. Saepe ubi sit quod ames inter tam multa requiras: Decipit hâc oculos Aegide dives amor. We are misled by ornaments: what is a miss Gold and gems cover, lest part of herself the maiden is. 'mongst things so many you may ask, where your love lies, Rich love by this Gorgonian shield deceives thine eyes. How much do Poets ascribe unto the virtue of the senses, which make Narcissu● to have even fond lost himself for the love of his shadow? Cunctâque miratur, quibus est mirabilis ipse, Ovid. M●●am. lib. 3. 424. Se cupit imprudens, & qui probat, ipse probatur, Dúmque petit, petitur: paritér que accendit & ardet. He all admires, whereby himself is admirable, Fond he, fond of himself, to himself amiable, He, that doth like, is liked, and while he doth desire; He is desired, at once he burns and sets on fire. and Pigmal●o●s wits so troubled by the impression of the sight of his ivory statue that he loveth and serves it, as if it had life: Oscula dat, redd●que put at, sequitú● que tenétque Orid. ib. l●. 10: 256. Et credit tactis digitos insidere membris, Et metuit pressos veniat ne livor in artus. He kisses, and thinks kisses come again, He sues, pursues, and holds, believes in vain His fingers sink where he doth touch the place, And fears lest blacke-and-blew toucht-lims deface. Let a Philosopher be put in a Cage made of small and thin-set yron-wyre, and hanged on the top of our Lady's Church steeple in Paris; he shall, by evident reason, perceive that it is impossible he should fall down out of it; yet can he not choose (except he have been brought up in the trade of Tilers or Tha●chers) but the sight of that exceeding height must needs dazzle his sight, and amaze or turn his senses. For, we have much ado● to warrant ourselves in the walks or battlements of an high tower or steeple, if they be battlemented and wrought with pillars, and somewhat wide one from another, although of stone, and never so strong. Nay, some there are, that can scarcely think or hear of such heights. Let a beam or plank be laid across from one of those two Steeples to the other, as big, as thick, as strong, and as broad, as would suffice any man to walk safely upon it, there is no Philosophical wisdom of so great resolution and constancy, that is able to encourage and persuade us to march upon it, as we would, were it below on the ground. I have sometimes made trial of it upon our mountains on this side of Italy, yet am I one of those that will not easily be affrighted with such things, and I could not without horror to my mind, and trembling of legs and thighs endure to look on those infinite precipises and steepy downfalls, though I were not near the brim, nor any danger within my length, and more; and unless I had willingly gone to the peril, I could not possibly have fallen. Where I also noted, that how deep soever the bottom were, if but a tree, a shrub, or any out-butting crag of a Rock presented itself unto our eyes, upon those steepy and high Alps, somewhat to uphold the sight, and divide the same, it doth somewhat ease and assure us from fear, as if it were a thing, which in our fall might either help or uphold us: And that we cannot without some dread and giddiness in the head, so much as abide to look upon one of those even and downright precipises: V● despici sine vertigine simul oculorum animique non possit. So as they can not look down without giddiness both of eyes and minds: Which is an evident deception of the sight. Therefore was it, that a worthy Philosopher pulled out his eyes, that so he might discharge his soul of the seducing and diverting he received by them, and the better and more freely apply himself unto Philosophy. But by this account, he should also have stopped his ears, which (as Theophrastus said) are the most dangerous instruments we have to receive violent and sudden impressions to trouble and alter us, and should, in the end, have deprived himself of all his other senses, that is to say, both of his being, and life. For, they have the power to command our discourses and sway our mind: Fit etiam saepe spec●e quadam, saepe Ci●. d●vin. lib. 1. vocum gravitate & cantibus, ut pellantur animi vehementius: saepe etiam curâ & timore. It comes to pass, that many times our minds are much moved with some shadow, many times with deepsounding, or singing of voices, many times with care and fear. Physicians hold, that there are certain complexions, which by some sounds and instruments are agitated even unto fury. I have seen some, who without infringing their patience, could not well hear a bone gnawn under their table: and we see few men, but are much troubled at that sharp, harsh, and teethedging noise that Smiths make in fi●ing of brass, or scraping of iron and steel together: others will be offended, if they but hear one chew his meat somewhat a loud; nay, some will be angry with, or hate a man, that either speaks in the nose, or rattles in the throat. That piping prompter of Graccus, who mollified▪ raised, and wound his master's voice, whilst he was making Orations at Rome; what good did he, ●● the motion and quality of the sound, had not the force to move, and efficacy to alter the auditories judgement? Verily, there is great cause to make so much ado, and keep such a coil about the constancy and firmness of this goodly piece, which suffers itself to be handled, changed, and turned by the motion and accident of so light a wind. The very same cheating and cozening, that senses bring to our understanding, themselves receive it in their turns. Our mind doth likewise take revenge of it, they lie, they cog, and deceive one another a vie. What we see and hear, being passionately transported by anger, we neither see or hear it as it is. Et solemn geminum, & duplices s● ostendere Thebas. Virg. Aen. l. ● 470. That two Suns do appear And double Thebes are there. The object which we love, seemeth much more fairer unto us, than it is; Multimodis igitur pravas turpésqve videmus Esse in delitijs, summoque in honore vigere. L●●r. l. 4. 1147 We therefore see that those, who many ways are bad, And fowl, are yet beloved, and in chief honour had. and that much fouler which we loath. To a pensive and hart-grieved man, a clear day seems gloomy and dusky. Our senses are not only altered, but many times dulled, by the passions of the mind. How many things see we, which we perceive not, if our mind be either busied or distracted else where? — in rebus quoque apertis noscere possis, Ibid. 80●. Si non advertas animum proinde esse, quas● omni Tempore semotae fuerint, longéque remotae. Even in things manifest it may be seen, If you mark not, they are, as they had been At all times severed far, removed clean. The soul seemeth to retire herself into the inmost parts, and ammuseth the senses faculties: So that both the inward and outward parts of man are full of weakness and falsehood. Those which have compared our life unto a dream, have happily had more reason so to do, than they were aware. When we dream, our soul liveth, worketh and exerciseth all hi● faculties even, and as much, as when it waketh; and if more softly, and obscurely; yet verily not so, as that it may admit so great a difference, as there is between a dark night, and a clear day: Yea as between a night and a shadow: There it sleepeth, here it slumbereth: More or less, they are ever darkenesses, yea Cimmerian darkenesses. We wake sleeping, and sleep waking. In my sleep I see not so clear; yet can I never find my waking clear enough, or without dimness. Sleep also in his deepest rest, doth sometimes bring dreams asleep: But our waking is never so vigilant, as it may clearly purge and dissipate the rave or ●●le fantasies, which are the dreams of the waking, and worse than dreams. Our reason and soul, receiving the fantasies and opinions, which sleeping seize on them, and authorising our dreams actions, with like approbation, as it doth the days. Why make we not a doubt, whether our thinking, and our working be another dreaming, and our waking some kind of sleeping? If the senses be our first judges, it is not ours that must only be called to counsel: For, in this faculty beasts have as much (or more) right, as we. It is most certain, that some have their hearing more sharp than man; others their sight; others their smelling; others their feeling, or taste. D●mocritus said, that Gods and beasts had the sensitive faculties much more perfect then man. Now between the effects of their senses and ours, the difference is extreme. Our spittle cleanseth and drieth our sores, and killeth Serpents. Tantáque in his rebus distantia differitásque est, L●●r. l. 4. 640. Vt quod aliis cibus est, aliis ●uat acre venenum. Saepe ●t enim s●rpens, hominis contacta saliuâ, Disperit, acsese mandendo conficit ipsa. There is such distance, and such difference in these things, As what to one is meat, t'another poison brings. For oft a Serpent touched with spittle of a man Doth die, and gnaw itself with fretting all he can. What quality shall we give unto spittle, either according to us, or according to the Serpent? By which two senses shall we verify it's true ●ssence, which we seek for? Pliny saith, that there are certain Sea-hares in India, that to us are poison, and we bane to them▪ so that we die, if we but touch them; now whether is man or the Hare poison? Whom shall we believe, either the fish of man, or the man of fish? Some quality of the air infecteth man, which nothing at all hurteth the Ox: Some other the Ox, and not man: Which of the two is either in truth, or nature the pestilent quality? Such as are troubled with the yellow jandise, deem all things they look upon to be yellowish, which seem more pale and wan to them then to us. Lurida praeterea fiunt quaecunque tuentur Ibid. 333. Arquati. And all that jaundised men behold, They yellow strait or palish hold. Those which are sick of the disease which Physicians call Hyposphagma, which is a suffusion of blood under the skin, imagine that all things they see are bloody and red. Those humours that so change the sights operation, what know we whether they are predominant and ordinary in beasts? For, we see some, whose eyes are as yellow as theirs that have the jandise, others, that have them all blood-shotten with redness. It is likely that the objectscollour they look upon, seemeth otherwise to them then to us. Which of the two judgements shall be true? For, it is not said, that the essence of things, hath reference to man alone. Hardness, whiteness, depth and sharpness, touch the service and concern the knowledge of beasts as well as ours: Nature hath given the use of them to them, as well as to us. When we wink a little with our eye, we perceive the bodies we look upon to seem longer and outstretched. Many beasts have their eye as winking as we. This length is then happily the true form of that body, and not that which our eyes give it, being in their ordinary seat. If we close our eye above, things seem double unto us. Bina lucernarum florentia lumina flammis, Ibid. 452. 454. Et duplices hominum facies, & corpora bina. The lights of candles double flaming then; And faces twain, and bodies twain of men. If our ears chance to be hindered by any thing, or that the passage of our hearing be stopped, we receive the sound otherwise, than we were ordinarily wont. Such beasts as have hairy ears, or that in lieu of an ear have but a little hole, do not by consequence hear that we hear, and receive the sound other than it is. We see at solemn shows or in theatres, that opposing any collourd glass between out eyes and the torcher light, whatsoever is in the room seems or green, or yellow, or red unto us, according to the colour of the glass. Et vulgò faciunt id lutea russaque vela, Ibid. 73. Et ferrugine cum magnis, intenta theatris Per malos volgata trabésque trementia pendent: Namque ibi concessum caveai subter, & omnem Scenai speciem, patrum matrúmque deorumque Inficiunt coguntque suo volitare, And yellow, russet, rusty curtains work this feat In common sights abroad, where over skaffolds great Stretched on masts, spread over beams, they hang still waving. All the seats circuit there, and all the stages braving, Of fathers, mothers, Gods, and all the circled show They double-die and in their colours make to flow. It is likely, that those beasts eyes, which we see to be of divers colours, produce the appearances of those bodies they look upon, to be like their eyes. To judge the senses-operation, it were then necessary we were first agreed with beasts, and then between ourselves; which we are not, but ever-and-anon disputing about that one seeth, heareth or tasteth, something to be other, then indeed it is; and contend as much as about any thing else of the diversity of those images, our senses report unto us. A young child heareth, seeth, and tasteth otherwise by nature's ordinary rule, than a man of thirty years; and he otherwise then another of threescore. The senses are to some more obscure and dim, and to some more open and quick. We receive things differently, according as they are, and seem unto us. Things being then so uncertain, and full of controversy, it is no longer a wonder if it be told us, that we may avouch snow to seem white unto us; but to affirm that it is such in essence and in truth, we cannot warrant ourselves: which foundation being so shaken, all the Science in the world must necessarily go to wrack. What? do our senses themselves hinder one another? To the sight a picture seemeth to be raised aloft, and in the handling flat: Shall we say that musk is pleasing or no, which comforteth our smelling and offendeth out taste? There are Herbs and Ointments, which to some parts of the body are good, and to othersome hurtful. Honey is pleasing to the taste, but unpleasing to the sight. Those jewels wrought and fashioned like feathers or sprigs, which in imprese are called, feathers without ends, no eye can discern the breadth of them, and no man warrant himself from this deception, that on the one end or side it groweth not brother and brother, sharper and sharper, and on the other more and more narrow, especially being rolled about one's finger, when notwithstanning in handling it seemeth equal in breadth, and every where alike. Those who to increase and aid their luxury were anciently wont to use perspective or looking glasses, fire to make the object they represented, appear very big and great, that so the members they were to use, might by that ocular increase please them the more: to whether of the two senses yielded they, either to the sight presenting those members as big and great as they wished them, or to the feeling, that presented them little and to be disdained? It is our senses that lend these divers conditions unto subjects, when for all that, the subjects have but one? as we see in the Bread we eat: it is but Bread, but one v●ing it, it maketh bones, blood, flesh, hair, and nails thereof: Vt cibus in membra atque artus cum diditur omnes Ibid. l. 3. 72●. Disperit, atque aliam naturam sufficit ex se. As meat distributed into the member dies. Another nature yet it perrishing supplies. The moistness which the root of a tree sucks, becomes a trunk, a leaf and fruit: And the air being but one; applied unto a trumpet, becometh divers in a thousand sorts of sounds. Is it our senses (say I) who likewise fashion of divers qualities those subjects, or whether they have them so and such? And upon this doubt, what may we conclude of their true essence? Moreover, since the accidents of sickness, of madness, or of sleep, make things appear other unto us, than they seem unto the healthy, unto the wise, and to the waking. Is it not likely, that our right seat and natural humours, have also wherewith to give a being unto things, having reference unto their condition, and to appropriate them to itself, as do inordinate humours; and our health, as capable to give them his visage, as sickness? Why hath not the temperate man some form of the objects relative unto himself, as the intemperate: and shall not he likewise imprint his Character in them? The distasted impute wallowishnesse unto Wine: the healthy, good taste; and the thirsty briskness, relish and delicacy. Now our condition appropriating things unto itself, and transforming them to it's own humour: we know no more how things are in sooth and truth; For, nothing comes unto us but falsified and altered by our senses. Either the compass, the quadrant or the ruler are crooked: All proportions drawn by them, and all the buildings erected by their measure, are also necessarily defective and imperfect. The uncertainty of our senses yields what ever they produce, also uncertain. Denique ut in fabrica, si prava est regula prima, Ibid. l. 4. 514. Normáque si fallax rectis regionibus exit, Et libella aliqaâ si ex part claudicat hilum, Omnia mendosè fieri, atque obstipa necessum est, Prava, cubantia, prona, supina, atque obsona tecta, I am ruere ut quaedam videantur velle, ruántque Prodita judicijs fallacibus omnia premis. Hic igitur ratio tibi rerum prava necesse est, Falsaque sit falsis quaecunque á sencibus orta est. As in building if the first rule be to blame, And the deceitful squire err from right form and frame, If any instrument want any jot of weight, All must needs faulty be, and stooping in their height, The building nought, absurd, upward and downward bended, As if they meant to fall, and fall as they intended; And all this as betrayed By judgements foremost laid. Of things the reason therefore needs must faulty be And false, which from false senses draws its pedigree; As for the rest, who shall be a competent judge in these differences? As we said in controversies of religion, that we must have a judge inclined to neither party, and free from partiality, or affection, which is hardly to be had among Christians; so happeneth it in this: For if he be old, he cannot judge of age's sense; himself being a party in this controversy: and so if he be young, healthy, sick sleeping or waking, it is all one: We had need of some body void and exempted from all these qualities, that without any preoccupation of judgement might judge of these propositions as indifferent unto him: By which account we should have a judge, that were no man. To judge of the appearances that we receive of subjects, we had need have a judicatory instrumentito verify this instrument, we should have demonstration; and to approve demonstration, an instrument: thus are we ever turning round. Since the senses cannot determine our disputation, themselves being so full of uncertainty, it must then be reason: And no reason can be established without another reason: then are we ever going back unto infinity. Our fantasy doth not apply itself to strange things, but is rather conceived by the interposition of senses; and senses cannot comprehend a strange subject; Nay not so much as their own passions; and so, nor the fantasy, nor the appearance is the subjects, but rather the passions only, and sufferance of the sense: which passion and subject are divers things: Therefore who judgeth by appearances, judgeth by a thing, different from the subject. And to say, that the senses passions refer the quality of strange subjects by resemblance unto the soul: How can the soul and the understanding rest assured of that resemblance, having of itself no commerce with foreign subjects? Even as he that knows not Socrates, seeing his picture cannot say that it resembleth him. And would a man judge by appearances, be it by all it is impossible; for by their contraries and differences they hinder one another, as we see by experience. May it be that some choice appearances rule and direct the others? This choice must be verified by an other choice, the second by a third: and so shall we never make an end. In few, there is no constant existence, neither of our being, nor of the objects. And we, and our judgement, and all mortal things else do uncessantly roll turn and pass away. Thus can nothing be certainly established, nor of the one, nor of the other; both the judging and the judged being in continual alteration and motion. We have no communication with being; for every human nature is ever in the middle between being borne and dying; giving nothing of itself but an obscure appearance and shadow, and an uncertain and weak opinion. And if perhaps you fix your thought to take its being; it would be even, as if one should go about to grasp the water: for, how much the more he shall close and press that, which by its own nature is ever gliding, so much the more he shall lose what he would hold and fasten. Thus, seeing all things are subject to pass from one change to another; reason, which therein seeketh a real subsistence, finds herself deceived as unable to apprehend any thing subsistant and permanent: forsomuch as each thing either cometh to a being, and is not yet altogether; or beginneth to die before it be borne. Plato said, that bodies had never an existence but in deed a birth, supposing that Homer made the Ocean Father, and Thet is Mother of the Gods, thereby to shew-us, that all things are in continual motion, change and variation. As he saith, a common opinion amongst all the Philosophers before his time; Only Parmenides, excepted, who denied any motion to be in things; of whose power he maketh no small account. Pythagoras that each thing or matter was ever gliding, and labile. The Stoics affirm, there is no present time, and that which we call present, is but conjoining and assembling of future time & past. Heraclitus averreth that no man ever entered twice one same river. Epicarmus avowcheth, that who erewhile borrowed any money, doth not now owe it: and that he who yesternight was bidden to dinner this day, cometh to day unbidden; since they are no more themselves, but are become others: and that one mortal substance could not twice be found in one self state: for by the suddenness and lightness of change, sometimes it wasteth, and othertimes it re-assembleth; now it comes and now it goes; in such sort, that he who beginneth to be borne, never comes to the perfection of being. For, this being borne cometh never to an end, nor ever stayeth as being at an end; but after the seed proceedeth continually in change and alteration from one to another. As of man's seed, there is first made a shapeless fruit in the Mother's Womb, than a shapen Child, then being out of the Womb, a sucking babe, afterward he becometh a lad, then consequently a striplin, than a full-grown man, than an old man, and in the end an aged decrepit man. So that age and subsequent generation goeth ever undoing and wasting the precedent. Mut at enim mundi naturam totius aetas, Ibid. l. 5. 937. Ex alióque alius status excipere omnia debet, Nec manet ulla sui similis res, omnia migrant, Omnia commut at natura & vertere cogit. Of th'universal world, age doth the nature change, And all things from one state must to another range, No one thing like itself remains, all things do pass, Nature doth change, and drive to change, each thing that was. And when we do foolishile fear a kind of death, when as we have already past, and daily pass so many others. For, not only (as Heraclitus said) the death of fire is a generation of air; and the death of air, a generation of Water. But also we may most evidently see it in ourselves. The flower of age dieth, fadeth and fleeteth, when age comes upon us, and youth endeth in the flower of a full grown man's age: Childhood in youth, and the first age, dieth in infancy: and yesterday endeth in this day, and to day shall die in to morrow. And nothing remaineth or ever continueth in one state. For to prove it, if we should ever continue one and the same, how is it then, that now we rejoice at one thing, and now at another? How comes it to pass, we love things contrary, or we hate them, or we love them, or we blame them? How is it, that we have different affections, holding no more the same sense in the same thought? For it is not likely, that without alteration we should take other passions, and What admitteth alterations, continueth not the same: and if it be not one self same, than is it not: but rather with being all one, the simple being doth also change, ever becoming other from other. And by consequence Nature's senses are deceived and lie falsely; taking what appeareth for what is; for want of truly knowing what it is that is. But than what is it, that is indeed? That which is eternal, that is to say, that which never had birth, nor ever shall have end; and to which no time can bring change or cause alteration. For time is a fleeting thing, and which appeareth as in a shadow, with the matter ever gliding, always fluent, without ever being stable or permanent; to whom rightly belong these terms, Before and After: and it Hath been, or Shall be. Which at first sight doth manifestly show, that it is not a thing, which is; for, it were great sottishness, and apparent falsehood, to say, that that is which is not yet in being, or that already hath ceased from being. And concerning these words, Present, Instant, Even-now, by which it seems, that especially we uphold and principally ground the intelligence of time; reason discovering the same, doth forth with destroy it: for presently it severeth it asunder and divideth it into future and past-time, as willing to see it necessarily parted in two. As much happeneth unto nature, which is measured according unto time, which measureth her: for no more is there any thing in her, that remaineth or is subsistent: rather all things in her are either borne or ready to be borne, or dying. By means whereof, it were a sin to say of God, who is the only that is, that he was or shallbe: for these words are declinations, passages, or Vicissitudes of that, which cannot last, nor continue in being. Wherefore we must conclude; that only God is, not according to any measure of time, but according to an immoovable and immutable eternity, not measured by time, nor subject to any declination, before whom nothing is, nor nothing shall be after, nor more now nor more recent, but one really being: which by one only Now or Present, filleth the Ever, and there is nothing that truly is, but the alone: Without saying, he hath been, or he shall be, without beginning, and sans ending. To this so religious conclusion of a heathen man, I will only add this word, taken from a testimony of the same condition, for an end of this long and period of this tedious discourse which might well furnish me with endless matter. Oh what a vile and abject thing is man (saith he) unless he raise himself above humanity! Observe here a notable speech, and a profitable desire; but likewise absurd. For to make the handful greater than the hand and the embraced greater than the arm; and to hope to straddle more than our legs length; is impossible and monstious: nor that man should mount over and above himself or humanity; for, he cannot see but with his own eyes, nor take hold but with his own arms. He shall raise himself up, if it please God extraordinarily to lend him his helping hand. He may elevate himself by forsaking and renouncing his own means, and suffering himself to be elevated and raised by mere heavenly means. It is for our Christian faith, not for his Stoic virtue to pretend or aspire to this divine Metamorphosis, or miraculous transmutation. The thirteenth Chapter. Of judging of others death. WHen we judge of others assurance or boldness in death, which without all peradventure, is the most remarkable action of human life, great heed is to be taken of one thing, which is, that a man will hardly believe he is come to that point. Few men die with a resolution, that it is their last hour: And no where doth hopes deceit ammuse us more. She never ceaseth to ring in our ears, that others have been sicker, and yet have not died; the cause is not so desperate as it is taken; and if the worst happen, God hath done greater wonders. The reason is, that we make to much account of ourselves. It seemeth, that the generality of things doth in some sort suffer for our annullation, and takes compassion of our state. Forsomuch as our sight being altered, represents unto itself things alike; and we imagine, that things fail it, as it doth to them: As they who travel by Sea, to whom mountains, fields, towns, heaven and earth, seen to go the same motion, and keep the same course, they do: Provehimur portu, terraeque urbésque recedunt. Vir. Aen● l. 3. 72 We sailing launch from harbour, and Behind our backee leave towns, leave land. Who ever saw old age, that commended not times past, and blamed not the present, charging the world and men's customs with her misery, and lowering discontent? Iámque caput quassans grandis suspirat arator, Laced. l. 2. 113. Et cum tempor a temporibus praesentia confert Praeteritis, laudat fortunas saepe parentis Et crepat antiquum genus ut pietate repletum. The graybeard Ploughman sighs, shaking his hoary head, Compares times that are now, with times passed heretofore, Praises the fortunes of his father long since dead, And cracks of ancient men, whose honesty was more. We entertain and carry all with us: Whence it followeth, that we deem our death to be some great matter, and which passeth not so easily, nor without a solemn consultation of the Stars; Tot circa v●um caput tumultuantes Deos. So many Gods keeping a stir about one man's life. And so much the more we think it, by how much more we praise ourselves. What? Should so much learning and knowledge be lost with so great damage, without the Destinies particular care? A soul so rare and exemplar, costs it no more to be killed, than a popular and unprofitable soul? This life, that covereth so many others, of whom so many other lives depend, that, for his use possesseth so great a part of the world and filleth so many places, is it displaced as that which holdeth by its own simple string? No one of us thinks it sufficient, to be but one. Thence came those words of Caesar to his pilot, more proudly swollen, than the Sea that threatened him: — Italiam si caelo authore recusas, Lucan. li. 3. 579. Mepete: sola tibi causa haec est justa timoris, Vectorem non nosse tuum perrumpe procellas Tutelâ secure may:— If Italy thou do refuse with heaven thy guide, Turn thee to me: to thee only just cause of fear Is that thy passenger thou knowst not: stormy tide Break through, secure by guard of me, whom thou dost bear. And these. — credit iam digna pericula Caesar Fatis esse suis: tantúsque evertere (dixit Ibid. 653. Mesuperis labor est, paruâ q●em puppe sedentem. Tam magno petiere mari. Cesar doth now believe, those dangers worthy are Of his set fate; and says, do Gods, take so much pain Me to undo, whom they thus to assault prepare Set in so small a skiff, in such a surging main? And this common foppery, that Phoebus for one whole year, bare mourning weeds on his forehead for the death of him: Virg. Georg. li. 1. 466. Ille etiam extincto miseratus Caesare Romam, cum caput obscurá nitidum ferrugine texit. The sun did pity take of Rome when Caesar died, When he his radiant head in obscure rust did hide. And a thousand such, wherewith the world suffers itself to be so easily cony-catched, deeming that our own interests disturb heaven, and his infinity is moved at our least actions. Non tanta caelo societas nobiscum est, ut nostro fato mortalis sit ille quoque siderum fulgor. There is Plin. nat. ●ist. l 2. ●. 8. no such society between heaven and us, that by our destiny the shining of the stars should be mort all as we are. And to judge a resolution and constancy in him, who though he be in manifest danger, doth not yet believe it, it is no reason: And it sufficeth not, that he die in that ward, unless he have directly, and for that purpose put himself into it: It happeneth, that most men set a stern countenance on the matter, look big, and speak stoutly, thereby to acquire reputation, which if they chance to live, they hope to enjoy. Of all I have seen die, fortune hath disposed their countenances, but not their designs. And of those which in ancient times have put themselves to death, the choice is great, whether it were a sudden death, or a death having time and leisure. That cruel Roman Emperor, said of his prisoners, that he would make them feel death: And if any fortuned to kill himself in prison, That fellow hath escaped me (would he say.) He would extend and linger death, and cause it, be felt by torments. Vidimus & toto quamuis in corpore caese, Lucan. l. 2. 179 Nil animae let hale datum, morémque nefandae Durum saevitiae, pereuntis parcere morti. And we have seen, when all the body tortured lay, Yet no stroke deadly given, and that in human way Of tyranny, to spare his death that sought to die. Verily, it is not so great a matter, being in perfect health, and well settled in mind, for one to resolve to kill himself: It is an easy thing to show stoutness and play the wag before one come to the pinch. So that Heliogabalus the most dissoluteman of the world, amidst his most riotous sensualities, intended, whensoever occasion should force him to it, to have a dainty death. Which, that it might not degenerate from the rest of his life, he had purposely caused a stately tewre to be built, the neither part and fore-court whereof was floored with boards richly set and enchased with gold and precious stones, from-off which he might headlong throw himself down: He had also caused cords to be made of gold and crimson silk, therewith to strangle himself: And a rich golden rapier, to thrust himself through: And kept poison in boxes of Emeralds and Topases, to poison himself with, according to the humour he might have, to choose which of these deaths should please him. Impiger & fortis virtute coactâ. ●ib. 4. 797. Gurie. A ready minded gallant, And in forced valour valiant. Notwithstanding, touching this man, the wantonness of his preparation makes it more likely, that he would have fainted, had he been put to his trial. But even of those, who most undauntedly have resolved themselves to the execution, we must consider (I say) whether it were with a life ending stroke, and that took away any leisure to feel the effect thereof. For, it is hard to guess, seeing life droop away by little and little, the bodies-feeling entermingling itself with the souls, means of repentance being offered, whether in so dangerous an intent, constancy or obstinacy were found in him. In Caesar's civil wars, Lucius domitius taken in prussia, having empoisoned himself, did afterward rue and repent▪ his deed. It hath happened in our days, that some having resolved to die, and at first not stricken deep enough, the smarting of his flesh, thrusting his arm back, twice or thrice more wounded himself a new, and yet could never strike sufficiently deep. Whilst the arraignment of Plantius Silvanus was preparing, Vrgulaniae his grandmother, sent him, a poignard, wherewith not able to kill himself thoroughly, he caused his own servants to cut his veins. Albucilla in Tiberius' time, purposing to kill herself, but striking over faintly, gave her enemy's leisure to apprehend and imprison her, and appoint her what death they pleased. So did Captain Demosthenes after his discomfiture in Sicily. And C. Fimbria having over feeblie wounded himself, became a suitor to his boy, to make an end of him. On the other side, Ostorius, who forsomuch as he could not use his own arm, disdained to employ his servants in any other thing but to hold his dagger stiff and strongly; and taking his running, himself carried his throat to its point, and so was thrust through. To say truth, it is a meat a man must swallow without chewing, unless his throat be frostshod. And therefore Adrianus the Emperor made his Physician to mark and take the just compass of the mortal place about his pap, that so his aim might not fail him, to whom he had given charge to kill him. Lo why Caesar being demanded; which was the death he most allowed, answered, the least premeditated, and the shortest. If Caesar said it, it is no faintness in me to believe it. A short death (saith Pliny) is the chief hap of human life. It grieveth them to acknowledge it. No man can be said, to be resolved to die, that feareth to purchase it, and that cannot abide to look upon, and outstare it with open eyes. Those, which in times of execution are seen to run to their end, and hasten the execution, do it not with resolution, but because they will take away time to consider the same; it grieves them not to be dead, but to die. Emori nolo, sed me esse mortuum, nihil aestimo. Cie. Tusc. qut l. 1. Epicha. I would not die too soon, But care not, when 'tis done. It is a degree of constancy, unto which I have experienced to arrive, as those that cast themselves into danger, or into the Sea, with closed eyes. In mine opinion, there is nothing more worthy the noting in Socrates' life, then to have had thirty whole days to ruminate his deaths-decree, to have digested it all that while, with an assured hope, without dismay or alteration, and with a course of actions and words, rather suppressed; and loose-hanging, then outstretched and raised by the weight of such a cogitation. That Pomponius Atticus, to whom Cicero writeth, being sick, caused Agrippa his son in law, and two or three of his other friends to be called▪ for, to whom he said; that having assayed, how he got nothing in going about to be cured, and what he did to prolong his life did also lengthen and augment his grief, he was now determined to make an end of one and other; entreating them to allow of his determination, and that by no means, they would lose their labour to dissuade him from it. And having chosen to end his life by abstinence, his sickness was cured by accident; The remedy he had employed to make himself away, brought him to health again. The Physicians, and his friends, glad of so happy a success, and rejoicing thereof with him, were in the end greatly deceived; for, with all they could do, they were never able to make him alter his former opinion, saying, that as he must one day pass that career, and being now so forward, he would remove the care, another time to begin again. This man having with great leisure apprehended death, is not only no whit discouraged, when he comes to front it, but resolutely falls upon it: for, being satisfied of that, for which he was entered the combat, in a bravery he thrust himself into it, to see the end of it. It is far from fearing death, to go about to taste and savour the same. The history of Cleanthes the philosopher, is much like to this. His gums being swollen, his Physicians persuaded him to use great abstinence; having fasted two days, he was so well amended, as they told him he was well, and might return to his wont course of life. He contrarily, having already tasted some sweetness in this fainting, resolveth not to draw back, but finish what he had so well begun, and was so far waded into. Tullius Marcellinus, a young Roman Gentleman, willing to prevent the hour of his destiny, to rid himself of a disease, which tormented him more than he would endure, although Physicians promised certainly to cure him, howbeit not suddenly; called his friends unto him to determine about it: some (saith Seneca) gave him that counsel, which for weakness of heart, themselves would have taken others for flattery that, which they imagined would be most pleasing unto him: but a certain Stoic standing by, said thus unto him. Toil not thyself Marcellinus, as if thou determinedst some weighty matter, to live is no such great thing, thy base grooms and bruit beasts live also, but it is a matter of consequence to die honestly, wisely and constantly. Remember how long it is, thou do est one same thing, to eat, to drink, and sleep, to drink, to sleep, to eat. We are ever uncessantly wheeling in this endless circle. Not only bad and intolerable accidents, but the very satiety to live, brings a desire of death. Marcellinus had no need of a man to counsel, but of one to help him: his servants were afraid to meddle with him; but this Philosopher made them to understand, that familiars are suspected, only when the question is, whether the masters death have been voluntary: otherwise it would be as bad an example to hinder him, as to kill him, forsomuch as, Invitum qui servat, idem facit occidenti. Hor. art. Po●●. 467. Who saves a man against his will, Doth even as much as he should kill. Then he advertised Marcellinus, that it would not be unseemly, as fruit or comfits at our tables, when our bellies be full, are given unto bystanders, so the life ended, to distribute something to such as have been the ministers of it. Marcellinus being of a frank and liberal disposition, caused certain sums of money to be divided amongst his servants, and comforted them. And for the rest, there needed neither iron nor blood, he undertook to depart from this life, not by running from it: Not to escape from death, but to taste it. And to have leisure to condition or bargain with death, having quit all manner of nourishment, the third day ensuing, after he had caused himself to be sprinkled over with lukewarm water, by little and little he consumed away; and (as he said) not without some voluptuousness and pleasure. Verily, such as have had these faintings and swoon of the heart; which proceed from weakness, say, that they feel no pain at all in them, but rather some pleasure, as of a passage to sleep and rest. These are premeditated, and digested deaths. But that Caeto alone, may serve to all examples of virtue, it seemeth, his good destiny, caused that hand wherewith he gave himself the fatal blow, to be sick and sore: that so he might have leisure to affront death and to embrace it, reen forcing his courage in that danger, in lieu of mollifying the same. And should I have represented him in his proudest state, it should have been all bloody-gored, tearing his entrails, and rending his guts, rather than with a sword in his hand, as did the Statuaries of his time. For this second murder, was much more furious, than the first. The fourteenth Chapter. How that our spirit hindereth itself. IT is a pleasant imagination, to conceive a spirit justly balanced between two equal desires. For, it is not to be doubted, that he shall never be resolved upon any match: Forsomuch as the application and choice brings an inequality of prize: And who should place us between a Bottle of wine, and a Gammon of Bacon, with an equal appetite to eat and drink, doubtless there were no remedy, but to die of thirst and of hunger. To provide against this inconvenient, when the stoics were demanded, whence the election of two indifferent things cometh into our soul (and which causeth, that from out a great number of Crowns or Angels we rather take one then another, when there is no reason to induce us to prefer any one before others) the answer, that this motion of the soul is extraordinary and irregular coming into us by a strange, accidental and casual impulsion. In my opinion, it might rather be said, that nothing is presented unto us, wherein there is not some difference, how light so ever it be: And that either to the sights, or to the feeling, there is ever some choice, which tempteth and draws us to it, though imperceptible and not to be distinguished. In like manner, he that shall presuppose a twine-third equally strong all-through, it is impossible by all impossibility that it break, for, where would you have the flaw or breaking to begin? And at once to break in all places together, it is not in nature. Who should also add to this, the Geometrical propositions, which by the certainty of their demonstrations, conclude, the contained greater than the containing, and the centre as great as his circumference: And that find two lines uncessantly approaching one unto another, and yet can never meet and join together: And the Philosopher's stone, and quadrature of the circle, where the reason and the effects are so opposite: might peradventure draw thence some argument to salve and help this bold speech of Pliny. Solum certum nihil esse certi, & homine nihil miserius aut superbius. This only is sure, that there is nothing sure; and nothing more miserable, Plin. nat. hist. lib. 2. c. 7. and yet more arrogant then man. The fifteenth Chapter. That our desires are increased by difficulty. THere is no reason but hath another contrary unto it, saith the wisest party of Philosophers. I did erewhile ruminate upon this notable saying, which an ancient writer aleadgeth for the contempt of life. No good can bring us any pleasure, except that, against whose loss we are prepared: In aequo est dolor amissaerei, & timor amittendae, Sorrow for a thing lost, and fear of Sen. epist 98. losing it, are on an even ground. Meaning to gain thereby, that the fruition of life, cannot perfectly be pleasing unto us, if we stand in any fear to lose it. A man might nevertheless say on the contrary part, that we embrace and clasp this good so much the harder, and with more affection, as we perceive it to be less sure, and fear it should be taken from us. For, it is manifestly found, that as fire is roused up by the assistance of cold, even so our will is whetted on by that which doth resist it. Si nunquam Danaen habuisset ahenea turris, Orid. Am. li. 2. ●l. 19 27. Non esset Danae de love facta parens. If Danae had not been closed in brazen Tower, jove had not closed with Danae in golden shower. And that there is nothing so naturally opposite to our taste, as satiety, which comes from ease and facility, nor nothing that so much sharpeneth it, as rareness and difficulty. Omnium rerum voluptas ipso quo debet fugare periculo crescit. The delight of all things increaseth by the danger, whereby it rather should terrify them that affect it. Galla nega; satiatur amor, nisi gaudia torquent. Mart. l. 4. epig. 38. 1. Good wench, deny, my love is cloyed, Unless joys grieve, before enjoyed. To keep love in breath and longing, Lycurgus ordained, that the married men of Lacedemonia might never converse with their wives, but by stealth, and that it should be as great an imputation and shame to find them laid together, as if they were found lying with others. The difficulty of assignations or matches appointed, the danger of being surprised, and the shame of ensuing to morrow, — & languor, & silentium, Hor. epod. 11. 13 Et latere petitus imo spiritus. And whispering voice, and languishment, And breath in sighs from deep sides sent, are the things that give relish and tartness to the sauce. How many most lasciviously-pleasant sports, proceed from modest and shamefast manner of speech, of the dalliances and works of love? Even voluptuousness seeks to provoke and stir itself up by smarting. It is much sweeter when it itcheth, and endeared when it gauleth. The curtezen Flora was wont to say, that she never lay with Pompey, but she made him carry away the marks of her teeth. Quod petiere, premunt arctè, faciúntque dolorem Lucr. l. 4. 1070 Corporis, & dentes inlidunt saepe labellis: Et stimuli subsunt, qui instigant laedere idipsum Quodcumque est, rabbiss unde isti germina surgunt, So goes it every where: Rareness and difficulty giveth esteem unto things. Those of Marca d' Ancona in Italy, make their vows, and go on pilgrimage rather unto Saint james in Galicia, and those of Galicia rather unto our Lady of Loreto. In the Country of Liege, they make more account of the Baths of Luca; and they of Tus●any esteem the Baths of Spawe more than their own: In Rome the Fenceschooles are ever full of Frenchmen, when few Romans come unto them. Great Cato, as well as any else, was even clo●ed and distasted with his wife, so long as she was his own, but when another man's, than wished he for her, and would feign have licked his fingers at her. I have heretofore put forth an old stallion to soil, who before did no sooner see or smell a Mare, but was so lusty, that no man could rule him, nor no ground hold him; ease and facility, to come to his own when he list, hath presently quailed his stomach, and so cloyed him, that he is weary of them: But toward strange Mar●s, and the first that passeth by his pasture, there is no ho with him; but suddenly he returns to his old wont neighings, and furious heat. Our appetite doth contemn and pass over what he hath in his free choice and own possession, to run after, and pursue what he hath not. Hor. Ser. l. 1. Sat. 2 107. Transuolat in medio posita, & f●gienti● captat. It overflies what open lies, Pursuing only that which flies. To forbid us any thing, is the ready way to make us long for it. Orid. Am. lib. 2. ●l. 19 47. — nisi tu servare puellam Incipis, incipiet desinere esse mea, If you begin not your wench to enshrine, She will begin to leave off to be mine. And to leave it altogether to our will, is but to breed dislike and contempt in us; So that to want, and to have store, breedeth one self same inconvenience. Tibi quod super est, mihi quod defit, dolet. Ter. Phor. act. 1. s●●. 3. You grieve because you have to much; It grieves me that I have none such. Wishing and enjoying trouble us both a like. The rigour of a mistress is irksome, but ease and facility (to say true) much more; forasmuch as discontent and vexation proceed of the estimation we have of the thing desired, which sharpen love, and set it afire: Whereas Satiety begets distaste: It is a dull, blunt, weary, and drowsy passion. Siqua volet regnare diu, com●emnat amantem. Opid. ●m. lib. 2. ●l. 19 33. If any list long to bear sway, Scorn she her lover, ere she play. — contemnite amantes, Prop▪ lib. 2. ●l. 14. 19 Sic hody veniet, ●●qua negavit heri, Lovers, your lovers scorn, contemn, delude, deride; So will she come to day, that yesterday denied. Why did Poppea devise to mask the beauties of her face, but to endear them to her lovers? Why are those beauties veiled down to the heels, which all desire to show, which all wish to see? Why do they cover with so many lets, one over another, those parts, where chiefly consisteth our pleasure and theirs? And to what purpose serve those baricadoes, and verdugalles, wherewith our women arm their flanks, but to allure our appetite, and enveagle us to them by puttingus off? Et ●ugit ad salices, & se cupit anté videri Virg. ●uc●. ●cl. 3. 65. She to the willow's runs to hide, Yet gladly would she first be spied. Interdum tunica duxit operatamoram, Pro. ibid. el●g. 15▪ 6. She covered with her cote in play. Did sometime make a short delay. Whereto serveth this mayden-like bashfulness, this wilful quaintness, this severe countenance, this seeming ignorance of those things, which they know better than ourselves, that go about to instruct them, but to increase a desire, and endear a longing in us, to vanquish, to gourmandize, and at our pleasure, to dispose all this sqeamish ceremony, and all these peevish obstacles? For, it is not only a delight, but a glory to besot and debauch this dainty and nice sweetness, and this infantine bashfulness, and to subject amarble and stern gravity to the mercy of our flame. It is a glory (say they) to triumph over modesty, chastity and temperance: and who dissuadeth Ladies from these parts, betrayeth both them and himself. It is to be supposed, that their hart yerneth with fear, that the sound of our words, woundeth the purity of their ears, for which they hate us, and with a forced constraint, agree to withstand our importunity. Beauty with all her might, hath not wherewith to give a taste of herself without these interpositions. See in Italy, where most, and of the finest beauty is to be sold, how it is forced to seek other strange means and subtle devises, arts and tricks, to yield herself pleasing and acceptable: and yet in good sooth, do what it can, being venal and common, it remaineh ●eeble, and is even languishing. Even as in virtue, of two equal effects, we hold that the fairest, and worthiest, wherein are proposed more lets, and which affordeth greater hazards. It is an effect of God's providence, to suffer his holy Church, to be vexed and turmoiled, as we see, with so many troubles and storms, to rouse, and awaken by this opposition and strife the godly and religious souls, and raise them from out a lethal security, and stupefied slumber, wherein so long tranquillity had plunged them. If we shall counterpoise the los●e we have had, by the number of those, that have strayed out of the right way, and the profit that accrueth unto us, by having taken hart of grace, and by reason of combat raised our zeal, and forces; I wot not whether the profit doth surmount the loss. We thought to tie the bond of our marriages the faster, by removing all means to dissolve them, but by how much faster, that of constraint hath been tied, so much more hath that of our will and affection been slacked and loosed: Whereas on the contrary side, that, which so long time held marriages in honour and safety in Rome, was the liberty to break them who list. They kept their wives the better, forsomuch as they might leave them; and when divorces might freely be had, there past five hundred years and more, before any would ever make use of them. Quod licet, ingratum est, quod non licet, acriùs urit, Orid▪ Am▪ lib. 2. ●l. 19 3. What we may do, doth little please: It worms us more, that hath less ease. To this purpose might the opinion of an ancient Writer be adjoined that torments do rather encourage vices, than suppress them; that they beget not a care of well-doing, which is the work of reason and discipline, but only a care not to be surprised in doing evil. Latiùs excis● pestis contagia serpunt. Th'infection of the plague nigh-spent, And rooted out, yet further went. I wot not whether it be true, but this I know by experience, that policy was never found to be reform that way. The order and regiment of manners dependeth of some other mean. The Greek stories, make mention of the Agrippians, neighbouring upon Scythia, who live without any rod or staff of offence, where not only, no man undertakes to buckle with any other man, but whosoever can but save himself there (by reason of they virtue and sanctity of life) is as it were in a Sanctuary: And no man dares so much as touch him. Many have recourse to them, to atone and take up quarrels and differences, which arise amongst men else where. There is a Nation, where the enclosures of Gardens and Fields, they intent to keep several, are made with a silly twine of cotton, which amongst them is found to be more safe and fast, then are our ditches and hedges. Furem signata sollicitant, Aperta effractarius Sen▪ ●pist. 69. praeterit. Things sealed up solicit a thief to break them open: Whereas a common burglayer will pass by quietly things that lie open. Amongst other means, ease and facility doth haply cover and sense my house from the violence of civil wars: Enclosure and fencing draws on the enterprise; and distrust the offence. I have abated and weakened the soldiers design, by taking hazard and all means of military glory from their exploit▪ which is wont to serve them for a title, and stead them for an excuse. What is performed courageously, at what time justice lieth dead, and law hath not her due course, is ever done honourably. I yield them the conqest of my house dastardly and treacherous. It is never shut to any that know●keth. It hath no other guardian or provision but a Porter, as an ancient custom, and used ceremony who serveth not so much to defend my gate, as to offer it more decently and courteously to all comers. I have nor watch nor sentinel, but what the Stars keep for me. That Gentleman is much to blame, who makes a show to stand upon his guard, except he be very strong indeed. Who so is open on one side; is so everywhere. Our Forefathers never dreamt on building of frontier Towns or Castles. The means to assail (I mean without battery, and troops of armed men) and to surprise our houses, increase daily beyond the means of guarding or defending. men's wits are generally exasperated and whetted one that way. An invasion concerneth all, the defence none but the rich. Mine was sufficiently strong, according to the times when it was made. I have since added nothing unto it that way; and I would fear; the strength of it should turn against myself. Seeing a peaceable time will require we shall unfortifie them. It is dangerous not to be able to recover them again, and it is hard for one to be assured of them. For, concerning intestine broils, your own servant may be of that faction you stand in fear of. And where religion serveth for a pretence, even alliances and consanguinity become mistrustful under colour of justice. Common rents cannot entertain our private garrisons. They should all be consumed. We have not wherewith, nor are we able to do it, without our apparent ruin, or more incommodiously, and therewithal injuriously, without the common people's destruction. The state of my loss should not be much worse. And if you chance to be a loser, your own friends are readier to accuse your improvidence and unhedinesse, then to moan you, and excuse your ignorance and carelessness, concerning the offices belonging to your profession. That so many strongly-garded houses have been lost, whereas mine continueth still, makes me suspect they were overthrown, only because they were so diligently guarded. It is that which affordeth a desire, and ministereth a pretence to the assailant. All guards bear a show of war; which if God be so pleased may light upon me. But so it is, I will never call for it. It is my sanctuary or retreat to rest myself from wars. I endeavour to free this corner from the public storm, as I do another corner in my soul. Our war may change form, and multiply and diversify how and as long as it list; but for myself I never stir. Amongst so many baricaded and armed houses, none but myself (as far as I know) of my quality, hath merely trusted the protection of his unto the heavens: for I never removed neither plate, nor hangings, nor my evidences. I will neither fear, nor save myself by halves. If a full acknowledgement purchaseth the favour of God, it shall last me for ever unto the end: if not, I have continued long enough, to make my continuance remarkable, and worthy the registering. What? Is not thirty years a goodly time? The sixteenth Chapter. Of Glory. THere is both name, and the thing: the name, is a voice which noteth, and signifieth the thing: the name, is neither part of thing nor of substance: it is a stranger-piece joined to the thing, and from it. God who in and by himself is all fullness, and the type of all perfection, cannot inwardly be augmented or increased: yet may his name be increased and augmented, by the blessing and praise, which we give unto his exterior works; which praise and blessing since we cannot incorporate into him, forsomuch as no accession of good can be had unto him, we ascribe it unto his name, which is a part without him, and the nearest unto him. And that is the reason why glory and honour appertaineth to God only. And there is nothing so repugnant unto reason, as for us to go about to purchase any for ourselves: For, being inwardly needy and defective, and our essence imperfect, and ever wanting amendment, we ought only labour about that. We are all hollow and empty, and it is not with breath and words we should fill ourselves. We have need of a more solid substance to repair ourselves▪ An huuger-starved man might be thought most simple, rather to provide himself of a fair garment, then of a good meales-meate: We must run to that, which most Luk. 2. 14. concerneth us. Gloria in excelsis Deo, & interrapax hominibus. Glory be to God on high, and peace in earth amongst men; As say our ordinary prayers. We are in great want of beauty, health, wisdom, virtue and such like essential parts. Exterior ornaments may be sought-for when we are once provided, of necessary things. Divinity doth very amply and pertinently treat of this subject, but I am not very conversant with it. Chrysippus and Diogenes have been the first, and most constant authors of the contempt of glory. And amongst all sensualities, they said, there was none so dangerous, nor so much to be avoided, as that which cometh unto us by the approbation of others. Verily experience makes us thereby feel, and undergo many domageable treasons. Nothing so much empoisoneth Princes as flattery: Nor nothing whereby the wicked-minded gain so easy credit about them; nor any enticement so fit, nor pandership so ordinary to corrupt the chastity of women, then to feed and entertain them with their praises. The first enchantment the Sirens employed to deceive V●●sses, is of this nature. Deca verse nous, deca, o treslevable Vlisse, Et le plus grand honneur dont sa Grece fleurisse. Turn to us, to us turn, Ulysses thrice-renowned. The principal renown wherewith all Greece is crowned. Philosophers said, that all the world's glory deserved not, that a man of wisdom should so much as stretch forth his finger to acquire it. Gloria quantalibet quid erit, si gloria tantùm est? juven. Sat. 7. ●1. Never so glorious name, What ist, be it but fame? I say for it alone: for, it draws many commodities after it, by which it may yield itself desirable: It purchaseth us good will: It makes us less exposed to others injuries and offences, and such like things. It was also one of the principal decrees of Epicurus: for, that precept of his Sect, HIDE THY LIFE, which forbiddeth men to meddle with public charges and negotiations, doth also necessarily presuppose that a man should despise glory: which is an approbation the world makes of those actions we give evidence of. He that bids us to hide our life, and care but for ourselves, and would not have us know of others, would also have us not to be honoured and glorified thereby. So doth he counsel Idomeneus, by no means to order his actions, by the vulgar opinion and public reputation: unless it be to avoid other accidental incommodities, which the contempt of men might bring unto him. Those discourses (are in mine advice) very true and reasonable: But, I wot not how, we are double in ourselves, which is the cause, that what we believe, we believe it not, and cannot rid ourselves of that, which we condemn. Let us consider the last words of Epicurus and which he speaketh as he is dying: they are notable and worthy such a Philosopher: but yet they have some badge of his names commendations, and of the humour which by his precepts he had disavowed. Behold here a letter, which he indited a little before he yielded up his ghost.. Epicurus to Hermachus health and greeting: Whilst I passed the happy, and even the last day of my life I writ this, accompanied nevertheless with such pain in my bladder and anguish in my entrails, that nothing can be added to the greatness of it; yet was it recompensed with the pleasure, which the remembrance of my inventions and discourses brought unto my soul. Now as requireth the affection, which even from the infancy thou hast borne me and Philosophy, embrace the protection of Metrodorus his children: Lo here his letter. And which makes me interpret, that the pleasure which in his soul he saith to feel of his inventions, doth in some sort respect the reputation, which after his death he thereby hoped to attain, is the ordinance of his last will and testament▪ by which he willeth, that Aminomachus and Timocretes his heirs, should for the celebration of his birthday every month of january supply all such charges as Hermachus should appoint: And also for the expense he might be at upon the twentieth of every Moon for the feasting and entertainment of the Philosophers his familiar friends, who in the honour of his memory and of Metrodorus should meet together. Carneades hath been chief of the contrary opinion, and hath maintained, that glory was in itself to be desired, even as we embrace our posthumes for themselves, having neither knowledge nor jovissance of them. This opinion hath not miss to be more commonly followed, as are ordinarily those, that fit most and come nearest our inclinations. Aristotle amongst external goods yieldeth the first rank unto it: And avoideth, as two extreme vices, the immoderation, either in seeking, or avoiding it. I believe, that had we the books which Cicero writ upon this subject, we should hear strange matters of him: for he was so fond in this passion, as had he dared, he would (as I think) have easily fallen into the excess, that others fell in; which is, that even virtue was not to be desired, but for the honour, which ever waited on it: Hor. car. l. 4. od. 9 29. Paulum sepultae distat inertiae Celata virtus.— There is but little difference between, Virtue concealed, unskilfulness unseen. Which is so false an opinion, as I am vexed it could ever enter a man's understanding that had the honour to bear the name of a Philosopher. If that were true, a man needed not to be virtuous but in public: and we should never need to keep the soules-operations in order and rule, which is the true feat of virtue, but only so much as they might come to the knowledge of others. Doth then nothing else belong unto it, but craftily to fail, and subtly to cozen? If thou knowest a Serpent to be hidden in any place (saith Carneades) to which, he by whose death thou hopest to reap commodity, goeth unawares to sit upon, thou committest a wicked act if thou warn him not of it: and so much the more, because thy action should be known but to thyself. If we take not the law of well-doing from ourselves: If impunity be justice in us; to how many kinds of treacheries are we daily to abandon ourselves? That which Sp. Peduceus did, faithfully to restore the riches which C. Plotius had committed to his only trust and secrecy, and as myself have done often? I think not so commendable, as I would deem it execrable, if we had not done it. And I think it beneficial we should in our days be mindful of Publius Sextilius Rufus his example, whom Cicero accuseth that he had received a great inheritance against his conscience: Not only repugnant▪ but agreeing with the laws. And M. Crassus, and Q. Hortensius, who by reason of their authority and might, having for certain Quiddities been called by a stranger to the succession of a forged will, that so he might make his share good: they were pleased not to be partakers of his forgery, yet refused not to take some profit of it: Very closely had they kept themselves under the countenance of the accusations, witnesses and laws. Meminerint Deum se habere testem, id est (ut Ego arbitror) mentem suam. Let them remember they have God to witnsse, that is, (as I construe it) their own mind. Virtue is a vain and frivolous thing, if it draw her commendation from glory. In vain should we attempt to make her keep her rank apart, and so should we disjoin it from fortune: for, What is more casual than reputation? Profecto fortuna in omni re dominatur: Ea res cunctas ex libidine magis quam ex vero celebrat obscurátque. Fortune governeth in all things, and either advancethor abaseth them rather by froward disposition, then upright judgement. To make actions to be known and seen, is the mere work of fortune, It is chance that applieth glory unto us, according to her temerity. I have often seen it to go before desert; yea and many times to outgo merit by very much. He that first bethought himself of the resemblance between shadow and glory, did better than he thought of. They are exceeding vain things. It also often goeth before her body, and sometimes exceeds by much in length. Those who teach Nobility to seek in valour nothing but honour: Quasi non sit honestum quod nobilitatum non sit; As though it were not honest, except it were ennobled. What gain they by it? But to instruct them never to hazard themselves, unless they be seen of others; and to be very heedy, whether such witnesses are by, that may report news of their valour, whereas a thousand occasions, to do well are daily offered, and no man by to mark them? How many notable particular actions, are buried in the throng of a Battle? Whosoever ammuseth himself to control others, in so confused a hurly burly, is not greatly busied about it: and produceth the testimony which he giveth of his fellows proceedings or exploits against himself. Vera & sapiens animi magnitudo, honestum illud quod maxime naturam sequitur, in factis positum, non in gloria judicat. A true and wise magnanimity esteemeth that honesty, which especially followeth Nature, to consist in good actions, and not in glory, All the glory I pretend in my life, is, that I have lived quietly. Quietly not accord to Metrodorius, Arcesilas, or Aristippus, but according to myself. Since Philosophy could never find any way for tranquillity, that might be generally good, let every man in his particular seek for it. To whom are Caesar and Alexander beholding for that infinite greatness of their renown, but to fortune? How many men hath she suppressed in the beginning of their progress, of whom we have no knowledge at all, who bore the same courage that others did, if the ill fortune of their chance had not stayed them even in the budding of their enterprises? Amongst so many and so extreme dangers (to my remembrance) I never read, that Caesar received any hurt. A thousand have died in less danger, than the least of those he escaped. Many worthy exploits and excellent deeds must be lost, before one can come to any good. A man is not always upon the top of a breach, nor in the front of an army, in the sight of his General, as upon a stage. A man may be surprised between a hedge and a ditch. A man is sometimes put to his sudden shifts, as to try his fortune against a Hens-roost, to ferret out four silly shot out of some barn, yea and sometimes straggle alone from his troops; and enterprise, according as necessity and occasion offereth itself. And if it be well noted (in mine advice) it will be found, and experience doth teach it, that the least blazoned occasions, are the most dangerous, and that in our late home-warres, more good men have perished in slight and little-importing occasions, and incontention about a small cottage, than in worthy achievements, and honourable places. Who so thinketh his death il employed, except it be in some glorious exploit, or famous attempt, in lieu of dignifying his death, he happily obscureth his life: Suffering in the mean time many just and honour affording oportunties to escape, wherein he might and ought adventure himself. And all just occasions are glorious enough; his own conscience publishing them sufficiently to all 2. Car. 1. 12. Aug. bo●. 35. men. Gloria nostra est, testimonium conscienti● nostra. Our glory is the testimony of our conscience. He that is not an honest man, but by that which other men know by him, and because he shall the better be esteemed, being known to be so, that will not do well but upon condition his virtue may come to the knowledge of men; such a one is no man from whom any great service may be drawn, or good expected. Credo ch'il rest di quel verne, cose Ariest. Orl. can 11. stan 81. Facesse degne di tenerne conto. Ma fur fin'a quel tempo si n●scose, Che non è colpa mia s'hor'non le conto, perch Orlando a far'●pre virtuose Piu ch'à narrarle poisempre era pronto; Ne mai fu alcun'de li suoi fatti espresso, Senen quando hebbe i testimonij appresso. I guess, he of that winter all the rest Achieved exploits, whereof to keep account, But they until that time were so suppressed, As now my fault 'tis not, them not to count, Because Orlando ever was more priest To do, than tell deeds that might all surmount. Nor was there any of his deeds related Unless some witness were associated. A man must go to wars for his devoirs sake and expect this recompense of it, which cannot fail all worthy actions, how secret soever▪ no not to virtuous thoughts: It is the contentment that a well disposed conscience receiveth in itself, by well doing. A man must be valiant for himself and for the advantage he hath to have his courage placed in a constant and assured seat, to withstand all assaults of fortune. Virtus repulsae nesci● sordid, Hor car. li 3. od. 2. 17. jutaminatis fulget honoribus: Nec sumit aut ponit secures Arbitrio popularis a●rae. Virtue vnskilled to take repulse that's base, In undefiled honours clearly shines, At the dispose of people's airy grace She signs of honour take's not, nor resigns. It is not only for an exterior show or ostentaion, that our soul must play her part, but inwardly within ourselves, where no eyes shine but ours: There it doth shroud us from the fear of death, of sorrows and of shame: There it assureth us, from the loss of our children, friends and fortunes; and when opportunity is offered it also leads us to the dangers of war. Non emolumento aliquo, sed ipsius honestatis decore. Not for any advantage, but for Cie. fin. l. 1. the greacefulnes of honesty itself. This benefit is much greater, and more worthy to be wished and hoped, than honour and glory, which is nought but a favourable judgement that is made of us. We are often driven to empanel and select a jury of twelve men out of a whole country to determine of an acre of land: And the judgement of our inclinations and actions (the weightiest and hardest matter that is) we refer it to the idle breath of the vain voice of the common sort and base rascality, which is the mother of ignorance, of injustice, and inconstancy. Is it reason to make the life of a wise man depend on the judgement of fools? An quidquam stultius, quam quos singulos contemnas, eos aliquid putare esse universes? Aelian var. hist. l. 2. c. 1. Is there any thing more foolish, then to think that altogether they are ought, whom every one single you would set at naughts? Whosoever aimeth to please them, hath never done: It is a But, that hath neither form nor holdfast. Nil tam inaestimabile est, quam animi multitudinis. Nothing is so incomprehensible to be just weighed as the minds of the multitude. Demetrius said merely of the common people's voice, that he made no more reckoning of that which issued from out his mouth above, then of that which came from a homely place below, and saith moreover: Ego hoc judico, si quando turpe non sit, tamen non esse non turpe, quum id à multi●udins laudetur: cic. fin. bon. l. 2. Thus I esteem of it, if of itself it be not dishonest, yet can it not but be dishonest, when it is applauded by the many. No art, no mildness of spirit might direct our steps to follow so straggling and disordered a guide. In this breathy confusion of bruits, and frothy Chaos of reports and of vulgar opinions, which still push-us on, no good course can be established. Let us not propose so fleeing and so wavering an end unto ourselves. Let us constantly follow reason: And let the vulgar approbation follow us that way. If it please: And as it depends all on fortune, we have no law to hope for it, rather by any other way then by that. Should I not follow a strait path for its straightness, yet would I do it because experience hath taught me, that in the end, it is the happiest and most profitable. Dedit hoc providentia hominibus munus, ut honest a magis iuvarent. Man's providence hath given him this gift that honest things should more delight and avail him. The ancient sailor said thus to Neptune in a great storm, Oh God, thou shalt save me if thou please, if not, thou shalt lose me; yet will I ke●p● my helm still fast. I have, in my days, seen a thousand mild, apparel and ambiguous men, and whom no man thought to be more worldly-wise than myself, lose themselves, where I have saved myself. Risi successu posse carere dolos. Orid. epist. Penel. v. 18. I smiled to see that wily plots. Might want success (and leave men sots.) Paulus Aemilius going to the glorious expedition of Macedon, advertised the people of Rome during his absence, not to speak of his actions: For The licence of judgements is an especial let in great affairs. Forasmuch as all men have not the constancy of Fabius against common, contrary and detracting voices: who loved better to have his authority dismembered by men's vain fantasies, than not to perform his charge so well, with favourable and popular applause. There is a kind of I know not what natural delight, that man hath to hear himself commended, but we yield too toomuch unto it. Laudari haud metuam, neque enim mihi cornea fibra est, Pers. sat. 1. 47 Sed recti finemque extremumque esse recuso Euge tuum & bellè— Nor fear I to be praised, for my guts are not horn, But that the utmost end of good should be, I scorn, Thy O well said, well done, well played. I care not so mun what I am with others, as I respect what I am in myself. I will be rich by myself, and not by borrowing. Strangers see but external appearances and events a every man can set a good face upon the matter, when within he is full of care, grief and infirmities. They see not my heart, when they look upon my outward countenance. There is great reason the hypocrisy that is found in war should be discovered: For, what is more easy in a man of practice, then to flinch in dangers and to counterfeit a gallant and a boaster, when his heart is full of faintness, and ready to droop for fear? There are so many ways to shun occasions for a man to hazard himself in particular, that we shall have deceived the world a thousand times, before we need engage ourselves into any perilous attempt; and even when we find ourselves entangled in it, we shall not want skill how to cloak our sport with a good face, stern countenance, and bold speeches; although our heart do quake within us. And he that had the use of the Platonical Ring, whose virtue was to make him invisible that wore it upon his finger, if it were turned toward the flat of the hand; many would hide themselves, when they should most make show of their worth, and would be sorry to be placed in so honourable a place, where necessity may be their warrant of safety. Falsus honor invat, & mendax infamia terret H●r. lib. 1. epi. 16. 39 Quem nisi mendosum & mendacem?— False honour tickles; false defame affright's, Whom, but the faulty, and false-fierd sprights? See how all those judgements, that men make of outward appearances, are wonderfully uncertain and doubtful, and there is no man so sure a testimony, as every man is to himself: How many horse-boyes have we in them as partners and companions of our glory? He that keeps his stand in an open trench, what doth he more, but diverse poor pioneers do as much before him, who open the way for him, and with their bodies shelter him, for poor sixpence a day, and happily for less? — non quicquid turbida Roma Pers. sat. 1. 5. Elevet, accedas, examénque improbum in illa Castiges trutinâ, nec te quasiver is extrà. If troublous Rome set aught at nought, make you not one, Nor chastise you unjust examination In balance of their load: Nor seek yourself abroad. We call that a magnifying of our name, to extend and disperse the same in many mouths, we will have it to be received in good part, and that its increase redound to his benefit: This is all that is most excusable in its design: But the infirmity of its excess proceeds so far, that many labour to have the world speak of them, howsoever it be. Trogus Pompeius saith of Herostratus, and Titus Livius of Manlius Capitolinus, that they were more desirous of great, then good reputation. It is an ordinary fault; we endeavour more that men should speak of us, then how and what they speak, and ●●sufficeth us, that our name run in men's mouths, in what manner soever. It seemeth that to be known, is in some sort, to have life and continuance in other men's keeping. As for me▪ I hold that I am but in myself; and of this other life of mine, which consisteth in the knowledge of my friends, being simply and barely considered in myself, well I wot, I neither feel fruit or jovislance of it, but by the vanity of fantastical opinion. And when I shall be dead, I shall much less have a feeling of it: And shall absolutely lose the use of true utilities, which sometimes accidentally follow it: I shall have no more fastness to take hold on reputation, nor whereby it may either concern or come unto me. For, to expect my name should receive it: First I have no name that is sufficiently mine: Of two I have, the one is common to all my race, yea and also to others. There is a family at Paris, and another at Montpellier, called Montaigne, another in Britain, and one in Xa●togne, surnamed dela-Montaigne. The removing of one only syllable may so confound our web, as I shall have a share in their glory, and they perhaps a part of my shame. And my Ancestors have heretofore been surnamed Higham, or Eyquem, a surname which also belongs to a house well known in England. As for my other name, it is any bodies that shall have a mind to it. So shall I happily honour a Porter in my stead. And suppose I had a particular mark or badge for myself, what can it mark when I am no more extant? May it design or favour inanity? — nunc levior cippus non imprimit essa? abide. 37. Laudat poster it as, nunc non è manibus illis, Nunc non è tumulo fortunatáque favillâ Nascuntur violae? Doth not the grave-stone on such bones sit light? Posterity applauds: from such a sprite, From such a tomb, from ashes blessed so, Shall there nor violets (in Cartlodes) grow? But of this I have spoken elsewhere. As for the rest, in a whole battle, where ten thousand are either maimed or slain, there are not peradventure fifteen that shall be much spoken off. It must be some eminent greatness, or important consequence, that fortune hath joined unto it, to make a private action prevail, not of a mean shot alone, but of a chieftain: For, to kill a man, or two, or ten; for one to present himself undauntedly to death, is indeed something to every one of us in particular; for, a man's freehold goes on it: But in regard of the world, they are such ordinary things, so many are daily seen, and so sundry alike must concur together to produce a notable effect, that we can look for no particular commendation by them. I●rem sat. 13. 9 — casus multis hic cognitus, aciam Tritus, & è medio fortunae ductus acervo. This case is known of many, worn with nothing, Drawn from the middle heap of fortunes doting. Of so many thousands of worthie-valiant men, which fifteen hundred years since have died in France, with their weapons in hand, not one hundred have come to our knowledge: The memory not only of the Generals and Leaders, but also of the battles and victories lieth now low-buried in oblivion. The fortunes of more than half the world, for want of a register, stir not from their place, and vanish away without continuance. Had I all the unknown events in my possession, I am persuaded I might easily supplant those that are known in all kinds of examples. What? Of the Romans themselves, and of the Grecians, amongst so many writers and testimonies, and so infinite rare exploits and matchless examples: How are so few of them come to our notice? Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura. Virg. Aen li. 7. 646. Scarcely to us doth pass Fame's thin breath, how it was. It shall be much, if a hundred years hence, the civil wars which lately we have had in France, be but remembered in gross. The Lacedæmonians as they were going to their battles, were wont to sacrifice unto the Muses, to the end their deeds might be well written, and worthily registered; deeming it a divine favour, and unusual grace, that noble actions might find testimonies able to give them life and memory. Think we that at every shot that hits us, or at every dangerous attempt we run into, to have a Clerk present to unroll it: And beside, it may be, that a hundred Clerks shall write them, whose Commentaries shall not continue three days, and shall never come to any body's sight. We have but the thousanth part of ancient writings: It is Fortune, which according to her favour gives them either shorter or longer life; and what we have, we may lawfully doubt-of, whether it be the worse, since we never saw the rest. Histories are not written upon every small trifle: It is requisite that a man have been conqueror of an Empire, or of a Kingdom; a man must have obtained two and fifty set battles, and ever with a lesser number, as Caesar was and did. Ten thousand good-fellows, and many great Captains have died most valiantly and courageously in pursuit of her, whose names have continued no longer than their wives and children lived: — quos fama obscura recondit. Verg. Aen. l. 5. 292. Whom fame obscure before Lays up in unknown store. Even of those, whom we see to do excellently well, if they h●ve but once continued so three months, or so many years, there is no more speech of them, then if they had never been. Whosoever shall in due measure proportion, and impartially consider, of what kind of people, and of what deeds the glory is kept in the memory of books, he shall find, there are few actions, and very few persons, that may justly pretend any right in them. How many virtuous men have we seen to survive their own reputation, who even in their presence have seen the honour and glory, which in their young days, they had right-justly purchased, to be clean extinguished? And do we for three years of this fantastical and imaginary life, loose and forego our right and essential life, and engage ourselves in a perpetual death? The wiser sort propose aright-fairer, and much more just end unto themselves, to so urgent and weighty an enterprise. Rectè facti, fecisse merces est: Officijfructus, ipsum ●ssicium est. The reward Senec. epist. 81. of well doing, is the doing, & the fruit of our duty, is our duty. It might peradventure be excusable in a Painter, or other artificer, or also in a Rhetorician, or Grammarian, by his labours to endeavour to purchase a name: But the a●tions of virtue are of themselves too-too-noble, to seek any other reward, then by their own worth and merit, and especially to seek it in the vanity of man's judgement. If this false-fond opinion do notwithstanding serve and stead a common wealth to hold men in their duty: If the people be thereby stirred up to virtue: If Princes be any way touched, to see the world bless and commend the memory of Trai●n, and detest the remembrance of Nero: If that doth move them, to see the name of that arch-villa ne, heretofore so dreadful and so much redoubted of all, so boldly cursed, and so freely outraged, by the ●●rst scholar that undertakes him. Let it hardly be increased, and let us (as much as in us li●th) still foster the same amongst ourselves. And Plato employing all means to make his Citizens virtuous, doth also persuade them, not to contemn the people's good estimation. And saith, that through some divine inspiration it cometh to pass, that even the wicked know often, as well by word, as by opinion, how to distinguish justly the good from the bad. This man, together with his master, are wonderful and bold workmen, to join divine operations and revelations, wheresoever human force faileth And therefore did peradventure Timon (deeming thereby to wrong him) surname him the great forget of miracles. Vt tragici poetae confugiunt ad Deum, cum explicare argumenti exitum Cich. Nat D●●r. lib. 1. non p●ssunt. As Poets that write Tragedies have recourse to some God, when they cannot unfold the end of their argument. Since men by reason of their insufficiency cannot well pay themselves with good lawful coin, let them also employ false money. This mean hath been practised by all the lawgivers: And there is no commonwealth where there is not some mixture either of ceremonious vanity or of false opinion, which as a restraint serveth to keep the people in awe and duty. It is therefore, that most of them have such fabulous grounds and trifling beginnings, and enriched with supernatural mysteries, It is that which hath given credit unto adulterate and unlawful religions, and hath induced men of understanding to favour and countenance them. And therefore did Numa and Sertorius, to make their men have a better belief, feed them with this foppery; the one, that the Nymph Egeria, the other that his white Hind, brought him all the counsel she took from the Gods. And the same authority, which Numa gave his Laws under the title of this Goddesses patronage, Zoroastres Law giver to the Bactrians and Persians, gave it to his, under the name of the God Orom●zis: Trismegistus of the Egyptians, of Mercury: Zamolzis of the Scythians, of Vesta: Charondas of the Chalcid onians, of Saturn: Minos of the Candiots, of jupiter: Lycurgus of the Lacedæmonians, of Apollo: Dracon and Solon of the Athenians, of Minerva. And every common wealth hath a God to her chief: all others falsely, but that truly, which Moses instituted for the people of jewry desceded from Egypt. The Bedoins religion (as saith the Lord of jovinuile) held among other things that his soul which among them all died for his Prince went directly into another more happy body, much fairer and stronger than the first: by means whereof, they much more willingly hazarded their live for his sake. In ferrum mens pronavir●●, animaque capaces Luca. l. 1. 461. Mortis: & ignavum est rediturae parcerevitae. Those men sword▪ minded, can death entertain, Think base to spare the life that turns again. Loe-heere, although very vain, a most needful doctrine, and profitable belief. Every Nation hath store of such examples in itself. But this subject would require a several discourse. Yet to say a word more concerning my former purpose: I do not counsel Ladies any longer to call their duty, honour: ut enim consuetudo loquitur, id solum dicitur honestum, quod Cit fin. l. 2. est populari famâ gloriosum: For as custom speaks, that only is called honest which is glorious by popular report. Their duty is the mark; their honour but the bark of it. Nor do I persuade them to give us this excuse of their refusal, in payment; for I suppose, their intentions, their desire, and their will, which are parts wherein honour can see nothing forasmuch as nothing appeareth outwardly there, are vet more ordered than the effects. Quae, quia non liceat, non facit, illa facit. Ovid. Am. l. 3. el. 4. 4. She doth it, though she do it not, Because she may not do't (God wot.) The offence both toward God, and in conscience, would be as great to desire it, as to effect the same. Besides, they are in themselves actions secret and hid; it might easily be, they would steal some one from others knowledge, whence honour dependeth, had they no other respect to their duty, and affection, which they bear unto chastity, in regard of itself. Each honourable person chooseth rather to lose his honour, then to forego his conscience. The seventeenth Chapter. Of Presumption. THere is another kind of glory, which is an overgood opinion we conceive of our worth. It is an inconsiderate affection, wherewith we cherish ourselves, which presents-us unto ourselves other than we are. As an amorous passion addeth beauties, and dareth graces to the subject it embraceth, and maketh such as are therewith possessed, with a troubled conceit, and distracted judgement, to deem what they love, and find what they affect, to be other, and seem more perfect, then in truth it is. Yet would I not have a man, for fear of offending in that point, to misacknowledge himself, nor think to be less than he is: A true judgement should wholly and in every respect maintain his right. It is reason, that as in other things, so in this subject he see what truth presenteh unto him. If he be Caesar, let him hardly deem himself the greatest Captain of the world. We are nought but ceremony; ceremony doth transport▪ us, and we leave the substance of things; we holdfast by the boughs, and leave the trunk or body. We have taught Ladies to blush, only by hearing that named, which they nothing fear to do. We dare not call our members by their proper names, and fear not to employ them in all kind of dissoluteness. Ceremony forbids us by words to express lawful and natural things; and we believe it. Reason willeth us to do no bad or unlawful things, and no man giveth credit unto it. Hear I find myself entangled in the laws of Ceremony, for it neither allows a man to speak ill or good of himself. Therefore will we leave her at this time. Those whom Fortune (whether we shall name her good or bad) hath made to pass their life in some eminent or conspicuous degree, may by their public actions witness what they are; but those whom she never employed, but in base things, and of whom no man shall ever speak, except themselves do it, they are excusable, if they dare speak of themselves to such as have interest in their acquaintance, after the example of Lucilius: Ille velut fidis arcana sodalibus olim Hor. s●r. l. 2. sat. 1. 30. Credebat libris, neque si malè: cesser at usquam Decurre●s ali●, neque si benè: quo fit, ut omnis Votiuâ pateat veluti descripta tabellâ Vita s●nis.— He trusted to his book, as to his trusty friend His secrets, nor did he to other refuge bend, How ever well, or ill, with him his fortune went. Hence is it, all the life is seen the old man spent, As it were in a Table noted, Which were unto some God devoted. This man committed his actions and imaginations to his paper and as he felt, so he portrayed C●r●. Tacit. vi● I●l. Agri●. himself. Nec id Rutili● & Scauro citra fidem, aut ob●rectationifuit. Nor was that without credit, or any imputation to Rutilius or Scaurus. I remember then, that even from my tenderest infancy, some noted in me a kind of I know not what fashion in carrying of my body, and gestures, witnessing a certain vain and foolish fierceness. This I will first say of it, that it is not inconvenient to have conditions so peculiar, and propensions so incorporated in us, that we have no mean to feel, or way to know them. And of such natural inclinations, unknown to us, and without our consent, the body doth easily retain some sign or impression. It was an affectation witting of his beauty, which made Alexander to bend his head a little on one side, and Alcibiades, his speech somewhat effeminate and lisping: julius Caesar was wont to scratch his head with one finger, which is the countenance of a man surcharged with painful imaginations: And Cicero (as I remember) had gotten a custom to writhe his Nose▪ which signifieth a natural scoffer. Such motions may unawares and imperceptibly possesse-us. Others there be which are artificial, whereof I will not speak. As salutations, reverences, or congees, by which some do often purchase the honour, (but wrongfully) to be humble, lowly, and courteous: A man may be humble through glory. I am very prodigal of cappings, namely in Summer, and I never receive any from what quality of men soever, but I give them as good and as many as they bring, except he be some servant of mine. I wish that some Princes whom I know, would be more sparing, and impartial dispensers of them; for, being so indiscreetly employed, they have no force at all: If they be without regard, then are they without effect. Amongst disordered countenances, let us not forget the stern look of Constantius the Emperor, who in public held ever his head bolt-upright, without turning or bending the same on any side, no not so much as to look on them that saluted him sideling, holding his body so fixed and unmooveable, that let his Coach shake never so much, he kept still upright: he durst never spit nor wipe his Nose, nor dry his face before the people. I wot not whether those gestures, which were noted in me were of this first condition, and whether in truth I had any secret propension to this fault, as it may well be: and I cannot answer for the motions of my body. But concerning those of the soul, I will here ingeniously confess what I think of them. There are two parts in this glory: Which is to say, for a man to esteem himself overmuch, the other, not sufficiently to esteem of others. For the one, first me thinks, these considerations ought somewhat to be accounted of. I feel myself surcharged with one error of the mind, which both as bad, and much more as importunate, I utterly dislike. I endeavour to correct it; but I cannot displace it. It is, because I abate the just value of those things, which I possess; and enhance the worth of things, by how much they are more strange, absent and not mine own. This humour extends itself very far, as doth the prerogative of the authority, wherewith husbands look upon their own wives with a vicious disdame, and many fathers upon their children: So do I, and between two like works would I ever weigh against mine. Not so much that the jealousy of my preferment, and amendment troubleth my judgement, and hindereth me from pleasing myself, as that mastery herself begets a contempt of that which a man possesseth and oweth. Policies, far customs and tongues flatter me; and I perceive the Latin tongue by the favour of her dignity to deceive me, beyond what belongs unto her, as children and the vulgar sort. My neighbour's economy; his house, and his horse, though but of equal value, is more worth than mine, by how much more it is not mine own. Besides, because I am most ignorant in mine own matters: I admire the assurance, and wonder at the promise, that every man hath of himself: whereas there is almost nothing, that I wot I know, nor that I dare warrant myself to be able to do. I have not my faculties in proposition, or by estate, and am not instructed in them but after the effect: As doubtful of mine own strength, as uncertain of another's force. Whence it followeth, if commendably I chance upon any one piece of work, I rather impute it to my fortune, then ascribe it to mine industry; forasmuch as I design them all to hazard, and in fear. Likewise I have this in general, that of all the opinions, which Antiquity hath had of man in gross, those which I most willingly embrace, and whereon I take most hold, are such as most vilify, contemn, and annihilate us. Me thinks Philosophy hath never better cards to Show, then when she checketh our presumption, and crosseth our vanity; when in good sooth she acknowledgeth her irresolution, her weakness and her ignorance. Me seemeth the over good conceit, and selfe-weening opinion man hath of himself, is the Nurce-mother of the falsest opinions, both public and particular. Those which a cockhorse will perch themselves upon the Epicicle of Mercury, and see so far into heaven, they even pull out my teeth. For in the study which I profess, the subject whereof is Man, finding so extreme a variety of judgements, so inextricable a labyrinth of difficulties one upon the neck of another, so great diversity, and so much uncertainty, yea even in the school of wisdom itself: you may imagine since those men could never be resolved of the knowledge of themselves and of their own condition, which is continually before their eyes, which is ever within them; since they know not how that moveth, which themselves cause to move, nor how to set forth the springs, and decipher the wards, which themselves hold and handle, how should I think of the true cause of the flux and reflux of the river Nilus? The curiosity to know things hath been given to men (as saith the holy Scripture) for a scourge. But to come to my particular, it is very hard (me seemeth) that some other regardeth himself less, yea and some other esteemeth me less than I esteem myself. I account myself of the common sort except in that I deem myself guilty of the basest, and culpable of the most popular defects: but not disavowed nor excused. And I only prize myself, wherein I know my worth. If any glory be in me, it is but superficially infused into me; by the treason of my complexion: and hath no solid body appearing to the sight of my judgement. I am but sprinkled over, but not thoroughly died. For in truth, touching the effects of the spirit, in what manner soever, there never came any thing from me, that contented me. And others approbation is no currant payment for me. My judgement is tender and hard especially in mine own behalf. I feel myself to waver and bend through weakness: I have nothing of mine own to satisfy my judgement. My sight is indifferently clear and regular; but if I take any serious work in hand, it is troubled, and dimmed: as I perceive most evidenly in Poesy: I love it exceedingly: I have some insight or knowledge in other men's Labours, but in truth I play the Novice when I set my hand unto it: Then can I not abide myself. A man may play the fool every where else, but not in Poesy. — mediocribus esse poetis Hor. art. Poet. 372. Non dij, non homines, non concessere columnae. Nor Gods, nor men, nor pillars gave the grant, That Poets in a mean, should meanly chant. I would to God this sentence were found in the front of our Printers or Stacioners shops, to hinder the entrance of so many bald-rimers. — verum Mart. lib. 12. epig. 64. Nil securius est malò Poeta. Nothing securer may be had, Then is a Poet bold and bad. Why have we no such people? Dionysius the father esteemed nothing in himself so much as his poesy. In the times of the Olimpike games, with chariots exceeding all other in magnificence, he also sent Poets and musicans to present his verses, with tents and pavilions gilded and most sumtuously tapistred. When they first began to rehearse them, the favour and excellency of the pronunciation did greatly allure the people's attention: but when they began to consider the fondness of the composition, they fell as soon to contemn them: and being more and more exasperated fell furiously into an uproar, and headlong ran in most spiteful manner to tear and cast down all his pavilions. And forasmuch as his rich chariets did no good at all in their course, and the ship which carried his men, returning homeward miss the shore of Sicily, and was by violent storms driven and spilled upon the coast of Tarentum, they certainly believed, the wrath of the Gods to have been the cause of it, as being greatly offended, both against him, and his vile and wicked Poem: yea and the Mariners themselves that escaped the shipwreck did much second the people's opinion: to which the Oracle that foretold his death seemed in some sort to subscribe: which implied, that Dionysius should be near his end, at what time he had vanquished those that should be of more worth than himself: Which he interpreted to be the Carthaginians, who exceeded him in might. And having at any time occasion to fight or grapple with them, that he might not incur the meaning of this prediction, he would often temper and avoid the victory. But he misunderstoode the matter, for the God observed the time of advantage, when as through partial favour and injustice he obtained the victory over the tragical Poets at Athens, who were much better than he was, where he caused in contention of them, his Tragedy, entitled the Lenetens, to be publicly acted. After which usurped victory, he presently deceased: And partly through the excessive joy, he thereby conceived. What I find excusable in mine, is not of itself, and according to truth: but in comparison of other compositions, worse than mine, to which I see some credit given. I envy the good hap of those, which can applaud and gratify themselves by their own labours; for it is an easy matter for one to please himself, since he draws his pleasure from himself: Especially if one be somewhat constant in his own wilfulness. I know a Poetaster, 'gainst whom both weak and strong, in company and at home, both heaven and earth, affirm and say, he hath no skill or judgement in Poesy, who for all that is nothing dismayed, nor will not abate one jote of that measure whereunto he hath fitted himself; but is ever beginning again, ever consulting anew, and always persisting; by so much the more fixed in his opinion, by how much the more it concerneth him alone, and he only is to maintain it. My compositions are so far from applauding me, that as many times as I look them over, so often am I vexed at them. cum relego, scripfisse pudet, quia plurima cerno, Ovid. Pont. lib. 1. ●. 6. 15. Me quoque qui feci, judice digna lini. When I re-reade, I shame I write for much I see, Myself, who made them, being judge, blotted to be. I have ever an Idea in my mind, which presents me with a better form, then that I have already framed, but I can neither lay hold on it, nor effect it. Yet is that Idea but of the meaner stamp. I thereby conclude, that the productions of those rich and great minds of former ages, are far beyond the extreme extension of my wish and imagination. Their compositions do not only satisfy and fill me, but they astonish and wrap me into admiration. I judge of their beauty, I see it, if not to the end, at least so far as it is impossible for me to aspire unto it. Whatsoever I undertake (as Plutarch saith of one) I owe a sacrifice to the Graces, hoping thereby to gain their favour. — si quid enim placet, Siquid dulce hominum, sensibus influit, Debentur lepidis omnia gratijs. If aught do please, if any sweet The sense of men with pleasures greet, To thank the Graces it is meet. They altogether forsake me: What I do, it is but bunglingly, and wants both polishing and beauty. I can rate them at no higher value, than they are worth. My work manship addeth no grace unto the matter. And that's the reason I must have it strong, with good holdfast, and shining of itself. If I chance to seize on any popular and more gay, it is to follow me, who love not a ceremonious prudence and gloomy wisdom, as doth the world; and to glad myself, not my style, who would rather have it grave and severe: If at least I may call that a ●●ile, which is a formelesse and abrupt speech. A popular gibberish, and a proceeding without definition, without partition, and sans conclusion, troubled as that of Amafanius, and Rabirius. I can neither please, nor glad, nor tickle. The best tale in the world coming into my hands, becomes withered and tarnished. I cannot speak but in good earnest, and am altogether barren of that facility which I see in many of my companions, to entertain first comers, to keep a whole troop in talk, to ammuse a Prince's ears with all manner of discourses and never to be weary, and never to want matter, by reason of the graces they have in applying their first approaches, and fitting them to the humour and capacity of those they have to do withal. Princes love not greatly serious and long discourses, nor I to tell tales. The first and easiest reasons (which are commonly the best taken) I can neither employ nor make use of them. I am an ill Orator to the common sort. I speak the utmost I know of all matters. Cicero thinks, in discourses of Philosophy, the exordium to be the hardest part: If it be so, I wisely lay hold on the conclusion. Yet should a man know how to tune his strings to all airs: And the sharpest comes ever last in play. There is at last as much perfection in raising up an empty, as to uphold a weighty thing: A man must sometimes handle matters but superficially, and at other times dive into them. I wot well that most men keep themselves on this low stage, because they conceive not of things but by the outward show. I also know, that the greatest Clerks, yea Xenophon and Plato, are often seen to yield to this low and popular fashion, in speaking of matters, upholding it with those graces, which they never want. As for the rest, my language hath neither facility nor fluency in it, but is harsh and sharp, having free and unsinnowy dispositions. And so it liketh me, if not by my judgement, yet by my inclination. But yet I perceive that sometimes I wade to far into it, and that forcing myself to avoid art and affectation, I fall into it another way. — brevis esse laboro, Hor. art. P●●s. 25. Obscurus fio.— To be short labour I? I darker grow thereby. Plato saith, that either long or short, are not properties, that either diminish or give price unto speech. If I should undertake to follow this other smooth, even and regular style, I should never attain unto it. And although the cadences, and break of Sallust do best agree with my humour, yet do I find Caesar both greater, and less easy to be represented. And if my inclination doth rather carry me to the imitation of Senecaes' style, I omit not to esteem Plutarch much more. As well in silence as in speech, I am simply my natural form, whence happily ensueth, that I am more in speaking than in writing. The motions and actions of the body, give life unto words, namely in them that move roundly and without affectation, as I do, and that will be earnest. Behaviour, the face, the voice, the gown, and the place, may somewhat endear those things, which in themselves are but mean, as prating. Messala complaineth in Tacitus of certain straight garments used in his time, and discommendeth the fashion of the benches whereon the Orators were to speak, saying, they weakened their eloquence. My French tongue is corrupted both in the pronunciation, and elsewhere by the barbarism of my country. I never saw man of these hither-countries, that did not evidently taste of his home-speech, and who often did not wound those ears, that are purely French. Yet is it not because I am so cunning in my Perigordin: For I have no more use of it, than of the Dutch, nor do I greatly care. It is a language (as are many others round about me) like to that of Poitou, Xaintogne, Angoulesme, Limosin, and Auvergne, squattering, draggling, and filthy. There is about us, toward the mountains a Gascoine tongue, which I much commend and like, sinnowie, pithy, short, significant, and in truth manlike and military, more than any other I understand. As compendious powerful, and pertinent as the French is gracious, delicate, and copious. As for the Latin, which was given me for my mother-tongue, by reason of discontinuance, I have so lost the promptitude of it, as I cannot well make use of it in speech, and scarcely in writing, in which I have heerctofore been so ready, that I was called a master in it. Lo here my little sufficiency in that behalf. Beauty is a part of great commendation in the commerce and society of men. It is the chief mean of reconciliation between one and other. Nor is there any man so barbarous, and so hardhearted, that in some sort feeleth not himself strucken with her sweetness. The body hath a great part in our being, and therein keeps a special rank: For, his structure and composition are worthy due consideration. Such as go about to sunder our two principal parts, and separate them one from another, are much to blame: They ought rather to be coupled and joined fast together. The soul must be enjoined not to retire herself to her quarter, nor to entertain herself apart, nor to despise and leave the body (which she cannot well do, except it beby some counterfeited apish trick) but aught to combine and cling fast unto him, to embrace, to cherish, assist, correct, persuade and advise him, and if he chance to swerve or stray, then to lead and direct him: In fine, she should wed and serve him in stead of a husband, that so their effects may not seem contrary and diverse, but agreeing and uniform. Christians have a particular instruction concerning this bond, for they know that God's justice alloweth this society, and embraceth this conjunction of the body and soul, yea so far as to make the body capable of everlasting rewards. And that God beholds the whole man to work, and will have him entirely to receive either the punishment, or the recompense, according to his demerits. The Peripatetic Sect (of all Sects the most sociable) attributeth this only care unto wisdom, in common to procure and provide, the good of these two associated parts: And declareth other Sects to have partialized overmuch, because they had given themselves to the full consideration of this commixture; this one for the body, this other for the soul, with one like error and oversight, and had mistaken their subject, which is Man; and their guide, which in general they avouched to be Nature. The first distinction, that hath been amongst men, and the first consideration, that gave pre-eminences to some over others, it is very likely it was the advantage of beauty. — agros divisere atque dedere Lucr. l. 5. 11. 20. Pro facie cuiusque & viribus ingenióque: Nam facies multum valuit, virésque vigebant. They land's divided and to each man shared As was his face, his strength, his wit compared. For face and strength were then Much prized amongst men. I am of a stature somewhat under the mean. This default hath not only uncomeliness in it, but also incommodity: Yea even in those which have charge and commandment over others; For, the authority which a fair presence and corporal majesty endoweth a man withal is wanting. Caius Marius did not willingly admit any Soldiers in his bands, that were not six foot high. The Courtier hath reason to require an ordinary stature in the Gentleman he frameth, rather, than any other; and to avoid all strangeness that may make him to be pointed-at; But if he miss of this mediocrity, to choose that he rather offend in lownes, then in tallness. I would not do it in a military man. Little men (saith Aristotle) are indeed pretty, but not beauteous, nor goodly: and in greatness, is a great soul known as is beauty in a great and high body. The Ethiopians and Indians (saith he) in choosing of their Kings and Magistrates, had an especial regard to the beauty and tallness of the persons. They had reason, for it breedeth an awful respect in those that follow him, and a kind of fear in his enemies, to see a goodly, tall and handsome man march as Chief and General in the head of an army, or front of a troop: Ipse inter primos praestanti corpore Turnus Virg. Aen li. 7. 725. Vertitur, armatenens, & toto vertice suprà est. Turnus, a goodly man, 'mongst them that led, Stood armed, than all they higher by the head. Our great, divine and heavenly King, all whose circumstances ought with much care, religion and reverence to be noted and observed, hath not refused the body's commendation. Speciosus formá prae filigs hominum. In favour beautiful above the sons of men. And Plato wisheth Psal. 45. 3. beauty to be joined unto temperance and fortitude in the preservers of his Commonwealth. Is it not a great spite, if being amongst your own servants, a stranger cometh to yourself to ask you where your Lord or Master is? And that you have nothing but the remainder of a capping, which is as well put off to your Barber, or to your Secritarie? As it happened to poor Philopaemen, who having left his company behind, and coming alone into a house where he was expressly looked-for, his hostess who knew him not, and saw him to be so ill-favoured a fellow, employed him to help her maids to draw water, and to mend the fire for the service of Philopaemen. The Gentlemen of his train being come and finding him so busily at work (for he failed not to fulfil his hostesses commandment) inquired of him what he did, who answered, I pay the penalty of my unhandsomeness. Other beauties are for women. The beauty of a handsome comely tallness is the only beauty of men. Where lowness and littleness is, neither the largeness or rowdnesse of a forehead, nor the whiteness or loveliness of the eyes, nor the pretty fashion of a nose, nor the slenderness of the ear, littleness of the mouth, order and whiteness of teeth, smooth thickness of a beard, brown like a chestnut, well-curled and upstanding hair, just proportion of the head, freshness of colour, the cheerful aspect of a pleasing face, the sweet-smelling of a body, nor the well decorated composition of all limbs, can make a handsome beauteous man. As for me, I am of a strong and well compacted stature, my face is not fat, but full, my complexion between jovial and melancholy, indifferently sanguine and hot. unde rigens setis mihi crura, & pector a villis: ●●a●t. li. 6. epig. 56. 1. Where by my legs and breast, With rough hair are oppressed. My health is blithe and lusty, though well-strooken in age, seldom troubled with diseases: Such I was, for I am now engaged in the aproches of age, having long since pastover forty years. — minutatim vires & robur adultum Luer. l. 2. I 140. Frangit, & in partem peiorem liquitur aetas. By little and a little age break's strength, To worse and worse declining melts at length. What hereafter I shall be, will be but half a being. I shall be no more myself. I daily escape, and still steal myself from myself: Singula de nobis anni praedantur cuntes. Hor. li. 2. epist. 2. 55. Years as they pass away, Of all our things make pray. Of addressing, dexterity, and disposition, I never had any, yet am I the son of a well disposed father, and of so blithe and merry a disposition, that it continued with him even to his extremest age. He seldom found any man of his condition, and that could match him in all exercises of the body; As I have found few, that have not outgone me, except it were in running, wherein I was of the middle sort. As for music, were it either in voice, which I have most harsh, and very unapt, or in instruments, I could never be taught any part of it. As for dancing, playing at tennis, or wrestling; I could never attain to any indifferent sufficiency; but none at all in swimming, in fencing in vaulting, or in leaping. My hands are so stiff and nummie, that I can hardly write for myself, so that what I have once scribbled, I had rather frame it a new, than take the pains to correct it; and I read but little better. I perceive how the auditory censureth me: Otherwise I am no bad clerk. I cannot very well close up a letter; nor could I ever make a pen. I was never good carver at the table. I could never make ready nor arm a Horse: Nor handsomely arry a Hawk upon my fist, nor cast her off or let her fly, nor could I ever speak to Dogs, to Birds, or to Horses. The conditions of my body are in fine, very well agreeing with those of my mind, wherein is nothing lively; but only a complete and constant vigour. I endure labour and pain, yet not very well, unless I carry myself unto it, and no longer than my desire leadeth and directeth me. Molliter austerum studio fallente laborem. Ser. lib. 2. sa. 2. 12. While earnestness for sport or gain, Sweetly deceiv's the sourest pain. Otherwise, if by any pleasure I be not alured, & if I have other direction, than my genuine and free will, I am nothing worth, and I can never fadgewell: For I am at such a stay, that except for health and life, there is nothing I will take the pains to fret myself about, or will purchase at so high a rate, as to trouble my wits for it, or be constrained thereunto. — Tanti mihi non sit opaci jurem sat. 3. 54● Omnis arena Tagi, quódque in mare voluitur aurum: So much I weigh not shadowed Tagui sand, Nor gold that rolls into the Sea from land, I am extremely lazy and idle, and exceedingly free, both by nature and art. I would as willingly lend my blood as my care. I have a mind free and altogether her own; accustomed to follow her own humour. And to this day never had nor commanding nor forced master. I have gone as far, and kept what pace pleased me best. Which hath enfeobled and made me unprofitable to serve others, and made me fit and apt but only for myself. And as for me, no man ever needed to force this heavy, lither, and idle nature of mine: For, having even from my birth found myself in such a degree of fortune, I have found occasion to stay there: (An occasion notwithstanding, that a thousand others of mine acquaintance would have taken as a plank to pass over to search, to agitation, and to unquietness. (And as I have sought for nothing, so have I taken nothing. Non agimur tumidis ventis Aquilone secundo, H●r. lib. 2. epist. 2. 201 Non tamen adversis aetatem ducimus austris: Viribus, ingenio, specie, virtute, loco, re, Extremi primorum, extremis usque priores. With full sails, prosperous wind, we do not drive, Nor yet with wind full in our teeth do live. In strength, in wit, in virtue, shape, goods, place, Last of the first, before the last we pace. I have had no need but of sufficiency to content myself: Which being well taken is ever a regiment for the mind, equally difficult in all sorts of condition; and which by use, we see more easily found in want, than in plenty; peradventure, because that according to the course of our other passions, the greediness of riches is more sharpened by their uses than by their need: and the virtue of moderation more rare, than that of patience. And I have had no need, but to enjoy those goods quietly, which God of his bounty had bestowed upon me. I have tasted no kind of tedious trouble. I have seldom managed other than mine own business: Or if I have, it hath been upon condition, I might do it at my leisure, and according to my will; committed unto me, by such as trusted me, and knew me well, and would not importune me; For, the skilful rider, will reap some service of a resty and wind-broken jade. My very Childhood hath been directed by a soft, mild, gentle and free fashion and ever exempted from rigorous subjection. All which hath endowed me with a delicate kind of complexion, and made me incapable of any care: So that I love, men should conceal my lostes from me, & the disorders which concern me. In the Chapter of my charges and expenses, I have set down what my negligence or carelessness costs me, both to feed and entertain myself. — bec nempe super suut, ●or. lib. 1. epist. 6. 45. Quae dominum fallunt, quae prosint furibus. This remnant of accompts I have, Which may deceive Lords, help a Knave. I love not to know an account of what I have, that I may less exactly feel my losses: I desire those that live with me, where they want affection, or good effects, to cozen and pay me with good appearances. For want of sufficient constancy to endure the importunity of contrary or cross accidents, whereunto we are subject; and because I cannot always keep myself prepared to govern and order my affairs, as much as I am able, I ●oster this opinion in me, relying wholly upon fortune, and ready to take every thing at the worst, and resolve to bear that worst, mildly and patiently. About that only do I busy myself, and to that end do I direct all my discourses. In any dangerous matter, I care not so much how I may avoid it, and how little it importeth whether I avoid it or no; And what were it if I would continue in it? Being unable to direct events, I govern myself; and if they apply not themselves to me, I apply myself to them: I have no great art to shun fortune, and how to scape or force it, and with wisdom to address matters to my liking: I have also less sufferance to endure the sharp and painful care, which belongeth to that. And the most toilsome state for me, is to be doubtful in matters of weight, and agitated between fear & hope. To deliberate, be it but in slight matters, doth importune me. And I feel my spirit more perplexed to suffer the motions of doubt, and shake of consultation, than to be settled and resolved about any accident whatsoever, after the chance is once cast. Few passions have troubled my sleep; but of deliberations the least doth trouble it. Even as of highways, I willingly seek to avoid the downe-hanging, and slippery, and take the beaten-path, though miry, and deep, so I may go no lower, and there seek I safety: So love I pure mishapes, and which exercise and turmoil me no more, after the uncertainty of their mending: And which even at the first cast, drive me directly into sufferance. — dubia plus torquent mala. S●n. Agam. act. 3. sc. 1. 29. Evils yet in suspense, Do give us more offence. In events; I carry myself manlike; in the conduct childishly. The horror of a fall doth more hurt me, than the blow. The play is not worth the candle. The covetous man hath a worse reckoning of his passion, than the poor; and the jealous man, than the cuckold. And it is often less harm for one to lose his farm, than plead and wrangle for it: The slowest march, is the safest. It is the seat of constancy. Therein you have no need but of yourself. There she takes her footing and wholly resteth upon herself. This example of a Gentleman, whom many have known, hath it not some Philosophical show? This man having passed all his youth like a good fellow, a jolly companion, a great talker, and a merry lad, being now well in years, would needs be married. Remembering himself how much the subject of cuckoldry had given him cause to speak, and scoff at others; to put himself under covert-baron, he took him a wife from out that place, where all men may have them for money, and with her made his alliance: Good morrow Whore, Good morrow Cuckold. And there is nothing wherewith he oftener and more openly entertained such as came unto him, than with this tale; Whereby he bridled the secret prattlings of mockers, and blunted the point of this reproach. Concerning ambition, which is next neighbour or rather daughter to presumption, it had been needful (to advance me) that fortune had come to take me by the hand: For to put myself into any care for an uncertain hope, and to submit myself to all difficulties, waiting on such as seek to thrust themselves into credit and reputation, in the beginning of their progress, I could never have done it. — Spem pretio non emo, Ter. Adel. act. 2 se. 2. Expense of present pay For hope, I do not lay. I fasten myself on that which I see and hold and go not far from the shore: Alter remiss aquas, alter tibi radat arenas. Throp. lib. 3. eel 2. 23. Keep water with one Oar, With th'other grate the shore. Besides, a man seldom comes to these preferments, but in hazarding first his own: And I am of opinion, if that which a man hath, sufficeth to maintain the condition, wherein he was borne and brought up, it is folly to let it go, upon the uncertainty of increasing the same. He to whom fortune refuseth means to settle his estate, and establish a quiet and reposed being, is excusable if he cast what he hath at hazard, since thus as well as thus, necessity sends him to shift and search out. Capienda rebus in malis preceps via est. Sen. Agam. act. 2. Sc. 1. 47. A headlong course is best, When mischiefs are addressed. And I rather excuse a younger brother, to make sale of his inheritance, than him, who hath the honour of his house in charge, who cannot fall into wants but through his default: I have by the counsel of my good friends of former times, found the way shorter and easier to rid myself of this desire and keep myself hushed: Cut sit conditio dulcis, sine pulvere palmae. Hor. lib. 1. Epist 1. 51. Who like it wel● to bear the prize. But take no toil in any wise. judging also rightly of my forces `that they were not capable of great matters: And remembering the saying of Lord Oliver whilome-Chaunceler of France, who said, that Frenchmen might be compared to Apes, who climbing up a tree, never cease skipping from bough to bough, till they come to the highest, where they show their bare tails. Turpe est quòd nequeat capiti committere pondui, Prop. lib. 3. cle. 8. 5. Et pressum in●●●xo mox daret erga genu. IT is shame, more than it can well bear, on head to pack, And thereby soon oppresst with bended knee fly back. Such qualities as are now in me void of reproach, in that age I deemed unprofitable. The facility of my manners had been named faintness and weakness; faith and conscience would have been thought scrupulous and superstitious: liberty and freedom, importunate, inconsiderate and rath. Misfortune serveth to some purpose. It is not amiss to be borne in a much depraved age: for in comparison of others, you are judged virtuous, very cheap. In our days, he that is but a partcide, or a sacrilegious person, is a man of honesty and honour. Nunc si depositum non inficiatur amicus, Sireddat veterem cum tot●aerugine follem, Prodigiosafides, & Thuscis digna libellis, Inven. Sat. 13. 60. Quaeque coronatâ lustrari debeat agnâ. If now a friend deny not what was laid in trust, If wholly he restore th' old bellows with their rust: A wondrous trust, to be in Chronicles related, And should with sacrifice, as strange, be expiated. And never was there time or place, wherein more assured and great reward was proposed unto Princes for goodness and justice. The first that shall be advised, by these means to thrust himself into favour and credit, I am much deceived if in part of payment, he get not the start of his fellows. Force and violence can do very much; but never all. Weesee Merchants, countrey-Iustices, and Artificers to march cheek by jowl with our Nobility, in valour, and military discipline. They perform honourable combats, both public and private. They batter and defend Towns and Cities in our present wars. A Prince smoothereth his commendation amid this throng. Let him shine over others with humanity, with truth, loyalty, temperance, and above all with justice; marks now adays rare, unknown and exiled. It is only the people's will, wherewith he may effect what he pleaseth: And no other qualities can allure their will so much as they, as being the profitablest for them. Nihil est tam populare quam bonitas. Nothing is so popular as goodness is. By this proportion I had been a rare great man: As by that of certain ages past, I am now a pygmy and popular man; In which it was common, if stronger qualities did not concur withal, To see a man temperate in his revenges, mild in revenging of offences, religious in keeping of his word; neither double, nor over tractable, nor applying his faith to others will, or to every occasion. I would rather let all affairs go to wreck, than break my word for their avail. For, touching this newfound virtue of feigning and dissimulation, which now is so much in credit, I hate it to the death: and of all vices, I find none that so much witnesseth demissenesse and baseness of heart. It is a coward and servile humour, for a man to disguise and hide himself under a mask, and not dare to show himself as he is. Thereby our men address themselves to treachery: Being trained to utter false words, they make no conscience to break them. A generous mind ought not to bely his thoughts, but make show of his in most parts: There all is good, or at least all is human. Aristotle thinks it an office of magnanimity to hate and love openly, to judge and speak with all liberty; and never (though the prize of truth go on it) to make esteem either of the approbation ot reprobation of others. Apollonius said, it was for servants to lie, and for freemen to speak truth. It is the chief and fundamental part of virtue. She must be loved for her own sake. He that speaketh truth, because he is bound to do so, and for that he serveth: and that fears not to tell a lie, when it little importeth another man, is not sufficiently true. My mind of her own complexion detesteth falsehood, and hateth to think on it. I feel an inward bashfulness, and a stinging remorse, if at any time it scape me; as sometimes it doth, if unpremeditated occasions surprise me. A man must not always say all he knows, for that were folly: But what a man speaks aught to be agreeing to his thoughts, otherwise it is impiety. I know not what benefit they expect, that ever feign, and so uncessantly dissemble; except it be not to be believed, even when they speak truly. That may deceive men once or twice, but to make a profession to carry it away smoothly, and as some of our Princes have done, to boast, that if their shirt were privy to their secret and true cogitations, they would burn it: which was the saying of ancient Metellus Macedonicus; And that he who cannot dissemble, cannot reign, serves but only to warn those who have to deal with them, that what they say is but untruth and dissimulation. Quo quis versutior & callidior est, hoc invisior & suspectior, detract à opinion probitatis. Cic. Off. lib. 1. The finer-headed, and more subtle-brained a man is, the more is he hated and suspected, if once the opinion of honestly be taken from him. It were great simplicity for a man to suffer himself to be misled either by the looks or words of him, that outwardly professeth what he is not inwardly, as did Tiberius. And I know not what share such people may challenge in the commerce of men, never producing any thing, that may be taken for good payment. He who is disloyal to truth, is likewise false against lying. Such as in our days, in the establishing of a Prince's duty, have only considered the good and felicity of his affairs, and preferred the same before the respect of his faith and conscience, would say something to a Prince, whose affairs fortune hath so disposed, that with once breaking and falsifying of his word, he might for ever confirm and establish them. But it goeth otherwise. A man may more than once come to such a bargain. A man during his life concludeth more than one peace or treaty. The commodity or profit that enviteth them to the first disloyalty (and daily some offer themselves, as to all other treacheries) sacrileges, murders, rebellions, treasons, are undertaken for some kind of profit. But this first gain brings ever infinite losses and dangers with it: casting this Prince from-out all commerce and means of negotiation, by the example of this infidelity. Solyman of the Ottomans race (a race little regarding the keeping of promises or performance of covenants) at what time he caused his Army to land at Otranto (I being then but a child) having known that Mercurin of Gratinara, and the inhabitants of Castro, were detained prisoners, after the Town was yielded, contrary to that which by his Captains had been capitulated with them, he sent word they should be released, and that having other weighty enterprises in hand in that country, such disloyalty, although it had appearance of great and present benefit, yet in time to come it would bring a distrust and reproach of infinite prejudice. As for me, I had rather be importunate and indiscreet, than a flatterer and a dissembler. I allow, a man may entermingle some point of fierceness and wilfulness, to keep himself so entire and open as I am, without consideration of others. And me seemeth I become a little more free, where I should be less, and that by the opposition of respect I grow earnest. It may also be, that for want of Art I follow mine own nature. Presenting to the greater sort the very same licence of speech and boldness of countenance, that I bring from my house: I perceive how much it inclineth towards indiscretion and incivility. But although I be so fashioned, my spirit is not sufficiently yielding to avoid a sudden question, or to scape it by some winding, nor to dissemble a truth, nor have I memory able to continue it so feigned, nor assurance sufficient to maintain it; and I play the Braggart through feebleness. And therefore I apply myself to ingenuity, and ever to speak truth and what I think, both by complexion and by intention; leaving the success thereof unto fortune. Aristippus said, that the chiefest commodity her reaped by Philosophy, was, that he spoke freely and sincerely to all men: Memory is an instrument of great service, and without which, judgement will hardly discharge his duty, whereof I have great want. What a man will propose unto me, he must do it by peece-meales: For, to answer to a discourse that hath many heads, lieth not in my power. I cannot receive a charge, except I have my writing tables about me: and if I must remember a discourse of any consequence, be it of any length, I am driven to this vile and miserable necessity, to learn every word I must speak, by rote; otherwise I should never do it well or assuredly, for fear my memory should in my greatest need fail me; which is very hard unto me, for I must have three hours to learn three verses. Moreover in any long discourse, the liberty or authority to remove the order, to change a word, uncessantly altering the matter, makes it more difficult to be confirmed in the author's memory. And the more I distrust it, the more it troubleth me. It serveth me better by chance, and I must carelessly solicit her, for if I urge her, she is astonished; and if it once begin to waver, the more I sound her, the more entangled and intricate she proveth. She will wait upon me when she list, not when I please. And what I feel in my memory, I feel in many other parts of mine. I eschew commandment, duty, and compulsion. What I do easily and naturally, if I resolve to do it by express and prescribed appointment, I can then do it no more. Even in my body, those parts, that have some liberty, and more particular jurisdiction, do sometimes refuse to obey me, if at any time I appoint and enjoin them to do me some necessary services. This forced and tyrannical preordinance doth reject them, and they either for spite or fear shrink and are quailed. Being once in a place, where it is reputed a barbarous discourtesy not to pledge those that drink to you, where although I were used with all liberty, in favour of certain Ladies that were in company, according to the fashion of the country, I would needs play the good fellow. But it made us all merry; for the threats and preparation, that I should force myself beyond my natural custom, did in such sort stop, and stuff my throat, that I was not able to swallow one drop, and was barred of drinking all the repast. I found myself glutted and full of drink by the overmuch swilling that my imagination had fore-conceived. This effect is more apparent in those, whose imagination is more vehement and strong: yet it is natural: and there is no man, but shall sometimes have a feeling of it. An excellent Archer being condemned to death, was offered to have his life saved, if he would but show any notable trial of his profession, refused to make proof of it; fearing lest the contention of his will should make him to misse-direct his hand, and that in am of saving his life, he might also lose the reputation he had gotten in shooting in a bow. A man whose thoughts are busy about other matters, shall very near within an inch keep and always hit one self same number and measure of paces, in a place where he walketh; but if heedily he endeavour to measure and count them, he shall find that what he did by nature and chance, he cannot do it so exactly by design. My Library (which for a country Library, may pass for a very fair one) is seated in a corner of my house: if any thing come into my mind, that either I must go seek or write in it, for fear I should forget it in crossing of my Court, I must desire some other body to remember the same for me. If speaking, I embolden myself never so little to digress from my Discourse, I do ever lose it; which makes me to keep myself in my speech, forced, near and close. Those that serve me, I must ever call them, either by their office or country: for I find it very hard to remember names. Well may I say, it hath three syllables, that its sound is harsh, or that it beginneth or endeth with such a letter. And should I live long, I doubt not but I might forget mine own name, as some others have done heretofore. Messala Corvinus lived two years without any memory at all, which is also reported of George Trapezoncius. And for mine own interest, I do often ruminate what manner of life theirs was, and whether wanting that part, I shall have sufficient to maintain myself in any good sort: which looking near unto, I fear that this defect, if it be perfect, shall lose all the functions of my soul. Plenus rimarum sum, hâc atque illâc perfluo. Ter. Eun. act. 1. scen. 2. I am so full of holes, I can not hold, I run out every way, when tales are told. It hath often befallen me, to forget the word, which but three hours before I had either given or received of another, and to forget where I had laid my purse; let Cicero say what he list. I help myself to lose, what I particularly lock up. Memoria certè non modè Philosophiam, sed omnis vitae usum, omnésque artes una maximè continet. Assuredly memory alone, of all other things compriseth not only Philosophy, but the use of our whole life, and all the sciences. Memory is the receptacle and case of knowledge. Mine being so weak, I have no great cause to complain if I know but little. I know the names of Arts in General and what they treat of, but nothing further. I turn and toss over books, but do not study them; what of them remains in me, is a thing which I no longer acknowledge to be any bodies else. Only by that hath my judgement profited: and the discourses and imaginations, wherewith it is instructed and trained up. The Authors, the place, the words, and other circumstances, I suddenly forget: and am so excellent in forgetting, that as much as any thing else I forget mine own writings and compositions. Yea, mine own sayings are every hand-while alleged against myself, when God wot I perceive it not. He that would know of me, whence or from whom the verses or examples, which here I have huddled up are taken, should greatly put me to my shifts, & I could hardly tell it him. Yet have I not begged them, but at famous and very well known gates: which though they were rich in themselves, did never please me, unless they also came from rich and honourable hands, and that authority concur with reason. It is no great marvel, if my book follow the fortune of other books; and my memory forego or forget as well what I write, as what I read: and what I give, as well as what I receive. Besides the defect of memory, I have others, which much further my ignorance. My wit is dull and slow, the least cloud dimmeth it, so that (for example sake) I never proposed riddle unto it (were it never so easy) that it was able to expound. There is no subtlety so vain, but confounds me. In games, wherein wit may bear a part, as of chess, of cards, of tables and others, I could never conceive but the common and plainest draughts. My apprehension is very sluggish and gloomy; but what it once holdeth, the same it keepeth fast: and for the time it keeps it, the same it embraceth generally, strictly and deeply. My sight is quick, sound, perfect and farre-seeing, but easily wearied, if much charged or employed. By which occasion I can have no great commerce with books, but by others service which read unto me. Plime the younger can instruct those that have tried it, how much this fore slowing importeth those that give themselves to this occupation. There is no spirit so wretched or so brutish, wherein some particular faculty is not seen to shine; and none so low buried, but at one hole or other it will sally out sometimes. And how it cometh to pass, that a mind blind and slumbering in all other things, is in some particular effects, lively, clear and excellent, a man must inquire of cunning masters. But those are the fair spirits, which are universal, open, and ready to all, if not instructed, at least to be instructed. Which I allege to accuse mine: For, be it either through weakness, or retchlessenesse (and to be careless of that which lieth at our feet, which we have in our hands, which nearest concerneth the use of life, is a thing far from my Dogma or Doctrine) there is none so simple or so ignorant as mine, in diverse such common matters, and of which without imputation or shame a man should never be ignorant; whereof I must needs tell some examples. I was borne and brought up in the Country, and amidst husbandry: I have since my predecessors quit me the place and possession of the goods I enjoy, both business and husbandry in hand. I cannot yet cast account either with pen or Counters. There are divers of our French Coins, I know not: nor can I distinguish of one grain from another, be it in the field or in the barn, unless it be very apparent: nor do I scarcely know the difference between the Cabbage or Lettuce in my Garden. I understand not the names of the most usual tools about husbandry, nor of the meanest principles of tillage, which most children know. I was never skilful in Mechanical arts, nor in Traffic or knowledge of Merchandise, nor in the diversity and nature of fruits, wines, or cates, nor can I make a Hawk, physic a Horse, or teach a Dog. And since I must make full show of my shame or ignorance, it is not yet a month since, that I was found to be ignorant, whereto Leven served to make bread withal; or what it was to ken Wine. The Athenians were anciently wont to think him very apt for the Mathematics, that could cunningly order or make up a faggot of brusn-wood? Verily a man might draw a much contrary conclusion from me: For let me have all that may belong to a Kitchen, yet shall I be ready to starve for hunger. By these parts of my confession, one may imagine diverse others, to my cost and detriment. But howsoever I make myself known, always provided it be as I am indeed, I have my purpose. And I excuse not myself, that I dare set down in writing, so base and frivolous matters as these. The baseness of the subject forceth me thereunto. Let who so list accuse my project, but not my progress. So it is, that without being warned of others, I see very well, how little this weigheth or is worth, and I perceive the fondness of my purpose. It is sufficient that my judgement is not dismayed or distracted, whereof these be the Essays. Nasutus sis usque licet, sis denique nasut, Mart. l. 13. epig. 2. 1. 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 iuvabit Rodere? carne opus est, si satur esse velis. Ne perdas operam, qui se mirantur, in illos Virus habe, nos haec novimus esse nihil. Suppose you were long nosed, suppose such nose you wear As Ailas, if you should entreat him, would not bear, That you in flouting old Latinus can be fine. Yet can you say no more against these toys of mine, Then I have said; what boot, tooth with a tooth to whet? You must have flesh, if you to glut yourself be set. Lose not your pains; 'gainst them who on themselves are doting Keep you your sting: we know these thing of ours are nothing. I am not bound to utter no follies, so I be not deceived to know them: And wittingly to err, is so ordinary in me, that I err not much otherwise; and seldom err casually. It is a small matter to yield the fond actions unto the rashness of my humours, since I cannot warrant myself ordinarily to yield them the vicious. Being at Barleduc, I saw, for the commendation of Renate the King of Sicily's memory a picture which with his own hands he had made of himself, presented unto our King Francis the second: why is it not as lawful for every man else to portray himself with his pen, as it was for him to do it with a pencil? I will not then forget this other blemish, unfit to be seen of all. That is irresolution: a most incommodious defect in the negotiation of worldly affairs: I cannot resolve in matters admitting doubtfulness: Ne si, ne nò, nel cuor misuona intiero. Petr Pa. 1. son. 138. 8. Nor yea, nor nay sounds clearly in my hart. I can maintain an opinion, but not make choice of it: For, in human things, what side soever a man leaneth-on, many appearances present themselves unto us, which confirm us in them: and Chrysippus the Philosopher was wont to say, that he would learn nothing else of his masters Zeno and Cleanthes, but their doctrines simply: For, proofs and reasons he would find enough of himself. Let me turn to what side I will, I ever find sufficient matter, and likelihood to keep myself unto it. Thus keep I doubt and liberty to myself, to choose, until occasion urge me, and then (to confess the truth) as the common saying is, I cast my feather to the wind, and yield to fortune's mercy. A very light inclination, and a slender circumstance carries me away. Dum in dubio est animus paulo momento huc atque illuc impellitur. Ter. And. act. 1 scen. 3. While mind is in suspense, with small a do, T'ts hither, thither, driven fro and to. The uncertainty of my judgement, is in many occurrences so equally balanced, as I would willingly compromise it to the deciding of chance and of the dice. And I note with great consideration of our humane imbecility, the examples, which the history of God itself hath left us of this use, to remit the determination of elections in doubtful matters, unto fortune and hazard: Sors cecidit super Matthiam. The lot fell upon Mathias. human reason Act. 1. 26 is a two-edged dangerous sword; Even in Socrates his hand, her most inward and familiar friend, mark what a many-ended staff it is. So am I only fit to follow, and am easily carried away by the throng. I do not greatly trust mine own strength, to undertake to command, or to lead. I rejoice to see my steps traced by others. If I must run the hazard of an uncertain choice, I would rather have it be under such a one, who is more assured of his opinions, and more wedded to them, than I am of mine; the foundation and platform of which I find to be very slippery; yet am I not very easy to change, forsomuch as I perceive a like weakness in contrary opinions. Ipsa consuetudo assentiendi periculosa esse videtur, & lubrica. Ci●. Acad. qu. lib. 4. The very custom of assenting seemeth hazerdous and slippery: Namely in politic affairs, wherein is a large field open to all motions, and to contestation. justa pari premitur velut cum pondere libra, Till ●●●. lib 4. h●ro. v. 41. Prona nec hâc plus part sedet, nec surgit ab illa. As when an even scale with equal weight is peized, Nor falls it down this way, or is it that way raised. As for example, Machiavels discourses, were very solid for the subject; yet hath it been very easy to impugn them, and those that have done it, have left no less facility to impugn theirs. A man might ever find answers enough to such an argument, both rejoinders, double, treble, quadruple, with this infinite contexture of debates, that our pettifoggers have wyredrawne, and wrested as much as ever they could in favour of their pleas and processes: Caedimur, & totidem plagis consumimus hostem. Hor. lib. 2. epist. 2 97. We by our foes are beaten, if not slain, We with as many strokes waste them again. Reason's having no other good ground than experience, and the diversity of human events, presenting us with infinite examples for all manner of forms. A wise man of our times, saith, that where our Almanaches say warm, should a man say cold, and in lieu of dry, moist; And ever set down the contrary of what they foretell; were he to lay a wager of one or others success, he would not care what side he took, except in such things as admit no uncertainty; as to promise extreme heat at Christmas, and exceeding cold at Midsummer. The like I think of these politic discourses. What part soever you are put unto, you have as good a game as your fellow: Provided you affront not the apparent and plain principles. And therefore (according to my humour) in public affairs, there is no course so bad (so age and constancy be joined unto it) that is not better than change and alteration. Our manners are exceedingly corrupted, and with a merveilous inclination bend toward worse and worse; Of our laws and customs many are barbarous, and diverse monstrous; notwithstanding, by reason of the difficulty to reduce us to better estate, and of the danger of this subversion, if I could fix a peg into our wheel, and stay it where it now is, I would willingly do it. — nunquam adeo foedis adeóque pudendis juve. sat. 8. 183 Vtimur exemplis, vi non peiora super sint. Examples of so filthy shameful kind We never use, but worse remains behind. Instability is the worst I find in our state, and that our laws, no more than our garments, can take no settled form. It is an easy matter to accuse a state of imperfection, since all mortal things are full of it. As easy is it to beget in a people a contempt of his ancient observances: No man ever undertook it, but came to an end: But to establish a better state in place of that which is condemned and razed out, divers who have attempted it, have shrunk under the burden. Touching my conduct, my wisdom hath small share therein. I am very easily to be directed by the world's public order. Oh happy people, that doth what is commanded, better than they which command, without vexing themselves about causes; which suffer themselves gently to be rolled on, according to the heaven's rolling. Obedience is never pure and quiet in him, who talketh, pleadeth and contendeth. In some, (to return to myself) the only matter, for which I make some account of myself, is that, wherein never man did think himself defective. My commendation is vulgar, common and popular; For, who ever thought he wanted wit? It were a proposition, which in itself would imply contradiction. It is an infirmity, that is never where it is seen, it is very strong and fast-holding, but yet pierced and dissipated by the first beam of the patients sight, as doth the suns rays scatter and dispearce a gloomy mist. For a man to accuse himself, were to excuse himself of that subject; and to condemn himself, an absolving of himself. There was never so base a porter, nor so silly a woman, but thought he had sufficient wit for his provision. We easily know in others, the advantage of courage, of bodily strength, of experience, of disposition and of beauty, but we never yield the advantage of judgement to any body: And the reasons, which part from the simple natural discourse in others, we think, that had we but looked that way, we had surely found them. The skill, the knowledge, the style and such like parts, which we see in strange works, we easily perceive whether they exceed ours; but the mere productions of wit and understanding, every man deemeth it lieth in him to meet with the very like, and doth hardly perceive the weight and difficulty of it, except (and that very scarcely) in an extreme and incomparable distance. And he that should clearly see the height of a stranger's judgement, would come and bring his unto it. Thus, is it a kind of exercising, whereof a man may hope but for mean commendation and small praise, and a manner of composition, of little or no harm at all. And then, for whom do you write? The wiser sort, unto whom belongeth bookish jurisdiction, know no other price but of doctrine, and avow no other proceeding in our wits, but that of erudition and art. If you have mistaken one Scipio for an other, what of any worth have you left to speake-of? He that is ignorant of Aristotle (according to them) he is there withal ignorant of himself. Popular and shallow-headed minds, cannot perceive the grace or comeliness, nor judge of a smooth and acquaint discourse. Now these two kinds possess the world. The third, unto whose share you fall, of regular wits, and that are strong of themselves, is so rare, that justly it hath neither name or rank amongst us; he looseth half his time, that doth aspire or endeavour to please it. It is commonly said, that the justest portion, nature hath given us of the graces, is that of sense and understanding: for there is no man, but is contented with the share she hath allotted him: I i● not reason? He who should see beyond that, should see further than his sight. I persuade myself to have good and sound opinions; but who is not so persuaded of his own? One of the best trials I have of it, is the small esteem I make of myself: for, had they not been well assured, they would easily have suffered themselves to be deceived, by the affection I bear unto myself, singular, as he who brings it almost all unto myself, and that spill but a little beside. All that, which others distribute thereof unto an infinite number of friends and acquaintances, to their glory and greatness, I refer to the repose of my spirit and to myself. What elsewhere escapes of it, is not properly by the appointment of my discourse: — mihi nempe valere & vivere doctus. Well learned in what concerneth me, To live, and how in health to be. As for my opinions, I find them infinitely bold aend constant to condemn mine insufficiency. And to say truth, it is a subject, where about I exercise my judgement, as much as about any other. The world looks ever for eright, I turn my sight inward, there I fix it, there I ammuse it. Every man looks before himself, I look within myself; I have no business but with myself. I uncessantly consider, control and taste myself: other men go ever elsewhere, if they think well on it: they go ever forward, — nemo in sese tentat descendere.— Pers. sat. 4. 23 No man attempteth this Essay, Into himself to find the way. as for me I roll me into myself. This capacity of sifting out the truth, what, and howsoever it be in me, and this free humour I have, not very easily to subject my belief, jowe especially unto myself; for the most constant, and general imaginations I have are those; which (as one would say) were borne with me: They are natural unto me, and wholly mine. I produced them raw and simple, of a hardy and strong production, but somewhat troubled and unperfect: which I have since established and fortified by the authority of others, and by the sound examples of ancients, with whom I have found myself conformable in judgement: Those have assured me of my holdfast of them, and have given me both the enjoying and possession thereof more absolute and more clear. The commendation which every man seeks after, for a vivacity and promptitude of wit, I challenge the same by the order of a notable and far sounding action, or of some particular sufficiency; I pretend it by the order, correspondency, and tranquility of opinions and customs. Omnlno si quidquam est Cic. Off. lib. ●. decorum, nihil est profectò magis quam aequabilitas universae vitae, tum singularum actionum: quam conservare non possis, si aliorum naturam imitans, omittas tuam. Clearly if any thing be decent for a man▪ nothing is more than an even carriage and equability of his whole life, and every action therein: which you cannot uphold, if following the nature of others, you let pass your own. Behold here then how far forth I find myself guilty of that first part, I said to be in the vice of presumption- Concerning the second, which consisteth in not esteeming sufficiently of others, I wot not whether I can so well excuse myself; for, whatsoever it cost me, I intent to speak what is of it. It may be, the continual commerce I have with ancient humours, and the Idea of those rich minds of former ages doth bring me out of liking and distaste both of others and of myself, or that in truth we live in an age, which produceth things but mean and indifferent. So it is, that I know nothing worthy any great admiration. Also I know not many men so familiarly as I should, to be able to judge of them: and those with whom the quality of my condition doth ordinarily make me conversant, are for the most part, such as have little care for the manuring of the soul, and to whom nothing is proposed for chief felicity, but honour; and for absolute perfection, but valour. Whatsoever I see or beauteous or worthy in any other man, I willingly commend and regard; yea and I often endear myself with what I think of it, and allow myself to lie so far forth: For, I cannot invent a false subject. I willingly witness with my friends what I find praiseworthy in them. And of an inch of valour, I willingly make an inch and a half; but to lend them qualities they have not, I cannot; and openly to defend their imperfections, I may not: yea be they mine enemies, I shall sincerely give them their due, in witnessing their worth or honour. My affection may change; my judgement never. And I confound not my quarrel with other circumstances, that are impertinent and belong not unto it. And I am so jealous of the liberty of my judgement, that for what passion so ever I can hardly quit it. I wrong myself more in lying, than him of whom I lie. This commendable and generous custom of the Persian nation, is much noted; They spoke very honourably and justly of their mortal enemies, and with those with whom they were at deadly fude and war, so far forth as the merit of their virtue deserved. I know diverse men who have sundry noble and worthy parts; some wit, some courage, some dexterity, some conscience, some a readiness in speech, some one Science, and some another; but of a great man in general, and that hath so many excellent parts together, or but one, in such a degree of excellency, as he may thereby be admired, or but compared to those of former ages whom we honour, my fortune hath not permitted me to see one. And the greatest I ever knew living (I mean of natural parts of the mind, and the best borne) was Stephanus de la Boitie: Verily it was a complete mind, and who set a good face, and showed a fair countenance upon all matters: A mind after the old stamp, and which, had fortune therewith been pleased, would no doubt have brought forth wondrous effects; having by skill and study added very much to his rich natural gifts. But I know not how it comes to pass, and surely it doth so, there is as much vanity and weakness of understanding found in those, that profess to have most sufficiency, that will intermeddle with learned vacations, and with the charges that depend of books, than in any sort of people; whether it be because there is more required, and expected at their hands, and common faults cannot be excused in them, or that the self-opinion of knowledge emboldeneth them the more to produce and discover themselves overforward, whereby they loose and betray themselves. As an Artificer doth more manifest his sottishness in a rich piece of work, which he hath in hand, if foolishly and against the rules of his trade he seek to apply it and intermeddle, than in a vile and base one; and men are more offended at a fault or oversight in a statue of gold, than in one of clay. These do as much, when they set forth things, which in themselves and in their place, would be good; for, they employ them without discretion, honouring their memory at the cost and charge of their understanding: and doing honour to Cicero, to Galen, to Ulpian, and to Saint Jerome, to make themselves ridiculous. I willingly return to this discourse of the fondness of our institution: whose aim hath been to make us not good and witty, but wise and learned; She hath attained her purpose. It hath not taught us to follow virtue and embrace wisdom; but made an impression in us of its Etymology and derivation. We can decline virtue, yet can we not love it. If we know not what wisdom is by effect and experience, we know it by prattling and by rote. We are not satisfied to know the race, the alliances, and the pedigrees of our neighbours, but we will have them to be our friends, and contract both conversation and intelligence with them: It hath taught us the definitions, the divisions, and distinctions of virtue, as of the surnames and branches of a genalogie, without having other care to contract practice of familiarity or private acquaintance between us and it. She hath appointed us for our learning, not books that have sounder and truer opinions, but volumes that speak the best Greek or Latin: and amongst her choice words, hath made the vainest humours of antiquity to glide into our conceits. A good institution changeth judgement and manners, as it happened to Polemon. This dissolute young Grecian, going one day by chance to hear a Lecture of Xenocrates, where he not only marked the eloquence and sufficiency of the Reader, and brought not home the knowledge of some notable thing, but a more apparent and solid fruit, which was the sudden change and amendment of his former life. Who ever heard such an effect of our discipline? — faciásne quod olim Hor. ser. lib. 2. sa●. 3. 253. Mutatus Polemon, ponas insignia morbi, Fasciolus, cubital, focalia, potus ut ille Dicitur ex collo furtim carpsisse coronas, Postquam est impransi correptus voce magistri. Can you do as did Polemon reform, Castoff your sickness signs, which you deformed, Your bolsters mufflers, swaths? As he drink-lin'de, His drunken garlands covertly declined, By speech of fasting reader disciplined? The least disdainful condition of men, me thinks, is that, which through simplicity holds the last rank, and offereth us more regular commerce. The customs and discourses of Countrie-clownish-men, I find them commonly to be more conformable and better disposed, according to the true prescription of Philosophy, then are those of our Philosophers. Plus sapit vulgus, quia tantum, quantum opus est, sapit. The vulgar is the wiser, because it is but as wise as it must needs. The worthiest men, I have judged by external appearances (for, to judge them after my fashion, they should be sifted nearer) concerning war, and military sufficiency, have been, the Duke of Guise, that died before Orleans, and the whilom Marshal Strozzi: For men extraordinarily sufficient, and endowed with no vulgar virtue, Oliver, and l'hospital, both great Chancellors of France. Poesy hath likewise in mine opinion, had her vogue and credit in our age. We have store of cunning and able men in that profession, Aurate, Beza, Buchanan, l'hospital, Montdore, & Turnebus. As for Frenchmen, I think they have attained the highest degree of perfection that can or ever shall be, and in those parts wherein Ronsart, and excellent Bellay have written, I think they are not far short of the ancient perfection. Adrianus Turnebus knew more and better, what he knew, than any man in his age or of many ages past. The lives of the late Duke of Alva, and of our Constable Mommorancie have been very noble, and have had sundry rare ressemblances of fortune. But the worthily-faire and glorious death of the last, in the full sight of Paris, and of his King, for their service, against his nearest friends and alliance, in the front of an army, victorious through his conduct of it, and with an hand-stroke, in that old age of his, deserveth in mine opinion, to be placed and registered amongst the most renowned and famous accidents of my times. As also the constant goodness, the mildness in behaviour, and conscionable facility of Monsieur la Noüe, in such an injustice of armed factions (a very school of treason, of inhumanity and brigandage) wherein he was ever brought up, a worthy, and famous man of war, and most experienced in his profession. I have greatly pleased myself in publishing in sundry places, the good hope I have of Marie Gournay le ●ars my daughter in alliance, and truly of me beloved with more than a fatherly love, and as one of the best parts of my being, enfeoffed in my home and solitariness. There is nothing in the world I esteem more than her. If childhood may presage any future success, her mind shall one day be capable of many notable things, and amongst other of the perfection of this thrice-sacred amity, whereunto we read not, her sex could yet attain; the sincerity and solidity of her demeanours are therein already sufficient; her kind affection towards me is more than superabounding and such in deed as nothing more can be wished unto it, so that the apprehension, which she hath of my aproching end, by reason of the fifty five years, wherein her hap hath been to know me, would somewhat less cruelly trouble her. The judgement she made of my first Essays, being a woman, of this age, so young, alone where she dwelleth, and the exceeding vehemency wherewith she loved me, and long time, by the only esteem, which before ever she saw me, she had by them conceived of me, she desired me; is an accident most worthy consideration. Other virtues have had little or no currantness at all in this age: But valour is become popular by reason of our civil wars, and in this part, there are minds found amongst us very constant, even to perfection, and in great number, so that the choice is impossible to be made. Lo here what hitherto I have known of any extraordinary, and not common greatness. The eighteenth Chapter. Of giving the lie. YEa but, will some tell me, this design in a man to make himself a subject to write of, might be excused in rare and famous men, and who by their reputation, had bred some desire in others of their acquaintance. It is true, I confess it, and I know, that a handy-crafts-man will scarcely look off his work, to gaze upon an ordinary man: Whereas to see a notable great person come into a town, he will leave both work and shop. It ill beseemeth any man to make himself known, only he excepted, that hath somewhat in him worthy imitation, and whose life and opinions may stand as a pattern to all. Caesar and Xenophon have had wherewithal to ground and establish their narration, in the greatness of their deeds, as on a just and solid groundwork. So are the jornall books of Alexander the great, the Commentaries which Augustus, Cato, Brutus, Silla and diverse others had left of their gests, greatly to be desired. Such men's Images are both beloved and studied, be they either in Brass or Stone. This admonition is most true, but it concerneth me very little. Non recite cuiquam: nisi amicis, idque rogatus. Hor. ser. l. 1. sa●. 4. 73. Non ubivis, corá●ve quibuslibet. In medio qui Scripta fore recitant sunt multi, quique lavantes. My writings I read not, but to my friends, to any, Nor each-where, nor to all, nor but desired: yet many In Market-place read theirs, In Baths, in Barbers-chaires. I erect not here a statue to be set up in the Marketplace of a town, or in a Church, or in any other public place: Non equidem hoc studeo bullatis ut mihi nugis Per● sat. 5. 19 Pagina turgescat:— I study not, my written leaves should grow Big-swollen with bubbled toys, which vain breth's blow. Secreti loquimur— 21. We speak alone, Or one to one. It is for the corner of a Library, or to ammuse a neighbour, a kinsman, or a friend of mine withal, who by this image may happily take pleasure to renew acquaintance, and to reconverse with me. Others have been emboldened to speak of themselves, because they have found worthy and rich subject in themselves. ay, chose, because I have found mine so barren, and so shallow, that it cannot admit suspicion of ostentation. I willingly judge of other men's actions; of mine by reason of their nullity, I give small cause to judge. I find not so much good in myself, but I may speak of it without blushing. Oh what contentment were it▪ unto me, to hear some body that would relate the custom, the visage, the countenance, the most usual words, and the fortunes of my ancestors! Oh how attentively would I listen unto it! Verily it were an argument of a bad nature, to seem to despise the very pictures of our friends and predecessors, the fashion of their garments and arms. I keep the writing, the manual seal, and a peculiar sword: And I reserve still in my cabinet certain long switches or wands, which my father was wont to carry in his hand. Paterna vestis & annulus, tanto charior est posteris, quanto erga parentes maior affectus. The father's garment and his ring is so much more esteemed of his successors, as their affection is greater towards their progenitors. Notwithstanding if my posterity be of another mind, I shall have wherewith to be avenged; for they cannot make so little account of me, as than I shall do of them. All the commerce I have in this with the world, is, that I borrow the instruments of their writing, as more speedy, and more easy: in requital whereof I may peradventure hinder the melting of some piece of butter in the market, or a Grocer from selling an ounce of pepper. Ne toga cordyllis, ne penula desit olivis, Mart. li. 13. epig. 1. 1. Lest Fish-fry should a fit gown want, Lest cloaks should be for Olives scant. Catul. epig. eleg. ●7. 8. Et laxas scombris saepe dabo tunicas. To long-tailed Mackerel often I, Will side-wide (paper) coats apply. And if it happen no man read me, have I lost my time, to have entertained myself so many idle hours, about so pleasing and profitable thoughts? In framing this pourtraite by myself, I have so often been feign to frizle and trim me, that so I might the better extract myself, that the pattern is thereby confirmed, and in some sort form. Drawing myself for others, I have drawn myself with purer and better colours, than were my first. I have no more made my book, than my book hath made me. A book consubstantial to his Author: Of a peculiar and fit occupation. A member of my life. Not of an occupation and end, strange and foreign; as all other books. Have I misspent my time, to have taken an account of myself so continually and so curiously? For those who only run themselves over by fantazy, and by speech for some hour, examine not themselves so primely and exactly, nor enter they into themselves, as he doth, who makes his study, his work, and occupation of it: Who with all his might, and with all his credit engageth himself to a register of continuance. The most delicious pleasures, though inwardly digested, shun to leave any trace of themselves; and avoid the sight, not only of the people, but of any other. How often hath this business diverted me from tedious and irksome cogitations? (And all frivolous ones must be deemed tedious and irksome.) Nature hath endowed us with a large faculty to entertain ourselves a part, and often calleth us unto it: To teach us, that partly we owe ourselves unto society, but in the better part unto ourselves. To the end I may in some order and project marshal my fantasy, even to dote, and keep it from losing, and straggling in the air, there is nothing so good, as to give it a body, and register so many idle imaginations as present themselves unto it. I listen to my humours, and hearken to my conceits, because I must enroll them. How often, being grieved at some action, which civility and reason forbade me to withstand openly, have I disgorged myself upon them here, not without an intent of public instruction? And yet these Poetical rods, Zon dessus l'oeil, zon sur le groin, Zon sur le dos du Sagoin. are also better imprinted upon paper, than upon the quick flesh; What if I lend mine ears, somewhat more attentively unto books, sith I but watch if I can filch something from them, wherewith to enamel and uphold mine? I never studied to make a book; Yet have I somewhat studied, because I had already made it (if to▪ nibble or pinch, by the head or feet, now one Author, and then another be in any sort to study) but nothing at all to form my opinions: Yea being long since form, to assist, to second and to serve them. But whom shall we believe speaking of himself, in this corrupted age? since there are few or none, whom we may believe speaking of others, where there is less interest to lie. The first part of cumstoms' corruption, is; the banishment of truth: For as Pindarus said, to be sincerely true, is the beginning of a great virtue; and the first article Plato requireth in the Governor of his Commonwealth: Nowadays, that is not the truth which is true, but that which is persuaded to others. As we call money not only that which is true and good, but also the false; so it be currant. Our Nation is long since taxed with this vice. For Salvianus Massiliensis who lived in the time of Valentinian the Emperor, saith, that amongst Frenchmen, to lie and forswear is no vice, but a manner of speech. He that would endear this Testimony, might say, it is now rather deemed a virtue among them. Men frame and fashion themselves unto it, as to an exercise of honour; for, dissimulation is one of the not ablest qualities of this age. Thus have I often considered, whence this custom might arise, which we observe so religiously, that we are more sharply offended with the reproach of this vice, so ordinary in us, than with any other; and that it is the extremest injury, may be done us in words, to upbraid and reproach us with a lie. Therein I find, that it is natural, for a man to defend himself most from such defects as we are most tainted with. It seemeth that if we but show a motion of revenge, or are but moved at the accusation, we in some sort discharge ourselves of the blame or imputation; if we have it in effect, at least we condemn it in appearance. May it not also be, that this reproach seems to enfold cowardice and faintness of hart? Is there any more manifest, than for a man to eat and deny his own word? What? To deny his Word wittingly? To lie is a horrible-filthy vice; and which an ancient writer setteth forth very shamefully, when he saith, that whosoever lieth, witnesseth that he co●●mneth God and there withal feareth men It is impossible more richly to represent the horror, the vileness and the disorder of it: For, What can be imagined so vile, and base, as to be a coward towards men, and a boaster towards God? Our intelligence being only conducted by the way of the Word: Who so falsifieth the same, betrayeth public society. It is the only instrument, by means whereof our wills and thoughts are communicated: it is the interpreter of our souls: If that fail us we hold ourselves no more, we enter-know one another no longer. If it deceive us, it breaketh all our commerce, and dissolveth all bonds of our policy. Certain Nations of the new Indias (whose names we need not declare, because they are no more; for the desolation of this conquest hath extended itself to the absolute abolishing of names and ancient knowledge of Places, with a marvelous and never the like heard example) offered human blood unto their Gods, but no other than that which was drawn from their tongues and ears, for an expiation of the sin of lying, as well heard as pronounced. That good-fellow-Graecian said, children were dandled with toys, but men with words. Concerning the sundry fashions of our giving the lie, and the laws of our honour in that and the changes they have received, I will refer to another time, to speak what I think and know of it, and if I can, I will in the mean time learn, at what time this custom took his beginning, so exactly to weigh and precizely to measure words, and tie our honour to them: for it is easy to judge, that it was not anciently amongst the Romans and Grecians. And I have often thought it strange, to see them wrong and give one another the lie, and yet never enter into quarrel. The laws of their duty, took some other course than ours. Caesar is often called a thief, and sometimes a drunkard to his face. We see the liberty of their invectives, which they write one against another: I mean the greatest Chieftains and Generals in war; of one and other Nation, where words are only retorted and revenged with words, and never wrested to further consequence. The nineteenth Chapter. Of the liberty of Conscience. IT is ordinarily seen, how good intentions being managed without moderation, thrust men into most vicious effects. In this controversy, by which France is at this instant molested with civil wars, the best and safest side, is no doubt, that which maintaineth both the ancient religion and policy of the Country. Nevertheless amongst the honest men that follow it (for my meaning is not to speak of those, who use them as a colour, either to exercise their particular revenges, or to supply their greedy avarice, or to follow the favour of Princes: But of such as do it with a true zeal toward their Religion, and an unfeigned holy affection, to maintain the peace and uphold the state of their Country) of those I say, divers are seen, whom passion thrusts out of the bounds of reason, and often forceth them to take and follow unjust, violent and rash counsels. Certain it is, that when first our religion began to gain authority with the Laws, it's zeal armed many against all sorts of pagan books, whereof the learned sort have a great loss. My opinion is, that this disorder hath done more hurt to learning, than all the Barbarian flames. Cornelius Tacitus is a sufficient testimony of it: for, howbeit the Emperor Tacitus his kinsman had by express appointment stored all the libraries in the World with it, notwithstanding one only entire copy could not escape the curious search of those, who sought to abolish it, by reason of five or six vain clauses, contrary to our belief. They have also had this easily to afford false commendations to all the Emperors, that made for us, and universally to condemn all the actions of those, which were our adversaries, as may plainly be seen in julian the Emperor, surnamed the Apostata; who in truth was a notable-rare-man, as he whose mind was lively endowed with the discourses of Philosophy, unto which he professed to conform all his actions; and truly there is no kind of virtue, whereof he hath not left most notable examples. In chastity (whereof the whole course of his life giveth apparent testimony) a like example, unto that of Alexander and S●●oio is read of him, which is, that of many wonderful fair captive Ladies, brought before him, being even in the very prime of his age (for he was slain by the Parthians about the age of one and thirty years) he would not see one of them. Touching justice, himself would take the pains to hear all parties: And although for curiosity sake, he would inquire of such as came before him, what religion they were of, nevertheless the enmity he bore to ours, did no whit weigh down the balance. Himself made sundry good Laws, and revoked divers subsidies and impositions, his Predecessors before him had received. We have two good Historians, as eye-witnesses of his actions. One of which, (who is Marcellinus) in sundry places of his History bitterly reproveth this ordinance of his, by which he forbade schools, and interdicted all Christian Rhethoricians, and grammarians to teach: Saying, he wished this his action might be buried under silence. It is very likely, if he had done any thing else more sharp or severe against us, he would not have forgot it, as he that was well affected to our side. He was indeed very severe against us, yet not a cruel enemy. For, our people themselves report this History of him, that walking one day about the City of Chalcedon, Maris Bishop thereof, durst call him wicked and traitor to Christ, to whom he did no other thing, but answered thus: Go wretched man, weep and deplore the loss of thine eyes; to whom the Bishop replied, I thank jesus Christ, that he hath deprived me of my sight, that so I might not view thy impudent face, affecting thereby (as they say) a kind of Philosophical patience. So it is, this part cannot be referred to the cruelties, which he is said to have exercised against us. He was (saith Eutropius my other testimony) an enemy unto Christianity, but without shedding of blood. But to return to his justice, he can be accused of nothing but of the rigours he used in the beginning of his Empire, against such as had followed the faction of Constantius his Predecessor. Concerning sobriety, he ever lived a soldiers kind of life, and in time of peace, would feed no otherwise, than one who prepared and enured himself to the austerity of war. Such was his vigilancy, that he divided the night into three or four parts, the least of which he allotted unto sleep; the rest he employed in visiting the state of his army, and his guards, or in study; for, amongst other his rare qualities, he was most excellent in all sorts of learning. It is reported of Alexander the Great, that being laid down to rest, fearing lest sleep should divert him from his thoughts and studies, he caused a basin to be set near his bed side, and holding one of his hands out, with a brazen ball in it, that if sleep should surprise him, losing his finger's ends, the ball falling into the basin, might with the noise rouse him from out his sleep. This man had a mind so bend to what he undertook, and by reason of his singular abstinence so little troubled with vapours, that he might well have past this devise. Touching military sufficiency, he was admirable in all parts belonging to a great Captain. So was he almost all his life time in continual exercise of War, and the greater part with us in France against the Alemans' and French. We have no great memory of any man, that either hath seen more dangers, nor that more often hath made trial of his person. His death hath some affinity with that of Epaminoudas, for being strucken with an arrow, and attempting to pull it out, he had surely done it, but that being sharpe-cutting, it hurt and weakened his hand. In that plight he earnestly requested to be carried forth in the midst of his army, that so he might encourage his soldiers, who without him courageously maintained the battle, until such time as dark night severed the Armies. He was beholding to Philosophy for a singular centempt, both of himself and of all human things. He assuredly believed the eternity of souls. In matters of religion, he was vicious everywhere. He was surnamed Apostata, because he had forsaken ours; notwithstanding this opinion seems to me more likely, that never took it to hart, but that for the obedience which he bore to the laws, he dissembled till he had gotten the Empire into his hands. He was so superstitious in his, that even such as lived in his time, and were of his own religion, mocked him for it; and it was said, that if he had gained the Victory of the Parthians, he would have consumed the race or breed of Oxen, to satisfy his sacrifices. He was also besetted with the Art of sooth saying, and gave authority to all manner of prognostikes. Amongst other things he spoke at his death, he said, he was much beholding to the Gods, and greatly thanked them, that they had not suffered him to be slain suddenly or by surprise, as having long before warned him both of the place and hour of his end; nor to die of a base and easy death, more beseeming idle and effeminate Persons, nor of a lingering, languishing, and dolorous death; and that they had deemed him worthy to end his life so nobly in the course of his victories and in the flower of his glory. There had before appeared a vision unto him, like unto that of Marcus Brutus, which first threatened him in Gaul, and afterward even at the point of his death, presented itself to him in Persia. The speech he is made to speak when he felt himself hurt, Thou hast vanquished o Nazaraean; or as some will have it; Content thyself oh Nazaraean, would scarce have been forgotten, had it been believed of my testimonies, who being present in the army, have noted even the least motions, and words at his death, no more than certain other wonders, which they annex unto it. But to return to my theme, he had long before (as saith Marcellinus) hatched Paganism in his hart, but forsomuch as he saw all those of his army to be Christians, he durst not discover himself. In the end, when he found himself to be sufficiently strong, and durst publish his mind, he caused the Temples of his Gods to be opened, and by all means endeavoured to advance idolatry. And to attain his purpose, having found in Constantinople the people very loose, and at odds with the Prelates of the christian church, and caused them to appear before him in his palace, he instantly admonished them to appease all their civil dissensions, and every one without hindrance or fear apply themselves to follow and serve religion. Which he very carefully solicited, hoping this licence might increase the factions, and controversies of the division, and hinder the people, from growing to any unity, and by consequence from fortifying themselves against him, by reason of their concord and in one mind-agreeing intelligence: having by the cruelty of some Christians found, that There is no beast in the world, so much of man to be feared, as man. Loe-heere his very words, or very near: Wherein this is worthy consideration, that the Emperor julian, useth the same receipt of liberty of conscience, to enkindle the trouble of civil dissension, which our Kings employ to extinguish. It may be said on one side, that, To give factions the bridle to entertain their opinion, is to scatter contention and sew division, and as it were to lend it a hand to augment and increase the same: There being no Bar or Obstacle of Laws to bridle or hinder her course. But on the other side, it might also beurged, that to give factions the bridle to uphold their opinion, is, by that facility and ease, the ready way to mollify and release them; and to blunt the edge, which is sharpened by rareness, novelty, and difficulty. And if for the honour of our King's devotion, I believe better; it is, that since they could not do as they would, they have feigned to will what they could not. The twentieth Chapter. We taste nothing purely. THe weakness of our condition, causeth, that things in their natural simplicity and purity cannot fall into our use. The elements we enjoy are altered: Metals likewise, yea gold must be impaired with some other stuff to make it fit for our service. Nor virtue so simple, which Ariston, Pirrho, and the stoics, made the end of their life, hath been able to do no good without composition: Nor the Cirenaike sensuality or Aristippian voluptuousness. Of the pleasures and goods we have, there is none exempted from some mixture of evil, and incommodity.— medio de font leporum Lucr. l. 4. 12. 24 Surgit amori aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat. From middle spring of sweets some bitter sping, Which in the very flower smartly stings. Our exceeding voluptuousness hath some air of groaning and wailing: Would you not say, it dieth with anguïsh? Yea when we forge its image in her excellency, we deck it with Epithers of sickish and dolorous qualities: languor, effeminacy, weakness, fainting and Morbidezza, a great testimony of their consanguinity and consubstantiality: Excessive joy hath more severity, than jollity: Extreme and full content, more settledness than cheerfulness. Ipsa faelicitas, se nisi temperate, premit. Felicity itself, unless it temper itself, distempers us. Se●t. quare etc. Ease consumeth us. It is that, which on old Greek verse saith of such a sense. The Gods sell us all the goods they give us; that is to say, they give us not one pure and perfect, and which we buy not with the price of some evil. Travel and pleasure, most unlike in nature, are notwithstanding followed toget her by a kind of I wot not what natural conjunction of Socrates saith, that some God attempted to huddle up together, and confound sorrow and voluptuousness: but being unable to effect it, he bethought himself to couple them together, at least by the tail. Metrodorus said, that in sadness there is some aloy of pleasure. I know not whether he meant any thing else, but I imagine, that for one to enure himself to melancholy, there is some kind of purpose, of consent and mutual delight: I mean besides ambition, which may also be joined unto it. There is some shadow of delicacy, and quaintness, which smileth and fawneth upon us, even in the lap of melancholy. Are there not some complexions, that of it make their nourishment? — est quaedam flere voluptas. Ori. Trist. l. 4. el. 3. 37. It is some pleasure yet, With tears our cheeks to wet. And one Attalus in Seneca saith, the remembrance of our last friends is as pleasing to us, as bitterness in wine that is over old; Minister veteris puer falerni Cat. lyr. epig. 24. 1. Ingere m● calices amariores: Sir boy, my servitor of good old wine, Bring me my cup thereof bitter, but fine. and as of sweetly-sower apples. Nature discovereth this confusion unto us: Painters are of opinion, that the motions and wrinkles in the face, which serve to weep, serve also to laugh. Verily, before one or other be determined to express which; behold the pictures success, you are in doubt toward which one inclineth. And the extremity of laughing entermingles itself with tears. Nullum sine auctor amento malum est. There is no evil without some obligation. Sen. epist. 69. ●● When I imagine man fraught with all the commodities may be wished, let us suppose, all his several members were for ever possessed with a pleasure like unto that of generation, even in the highest point that may be: I find him to sink under the burden of his ease, and perceive him altogether unable to bear so pure, so constant, and so universal a sensuality. Truly he flies when he is even upon the nick, and naturally hasteneth to escape it, as from a step, whereon he cannot stay or contain himself, and feareth to sink into it. When I religiously confess myself unto myself, I find, the best good I have, hath some vicioustaint. And I fear that Plato in his purest virtue (I that am as sincere and loyal an esteemer thereof, and of the virtues of such a stamp, as any other can possibly be) if he had nearly listened unto it (and sure he listened very near) he would therein have heard some harsh tune, of human mixture, but an obscure tune, and only sensible unto himself. Man all in all, is but a botching and particoloured work. The very Laws of justice, cannot subsist without seem commixture of Injustice: And Plato saith, They undertake to out off Hidra's heads, that pretend to remove all incommodities and inconveniences from the Laws. Omne magnum Tacitus A●●. l. 14. Cass●. exemplum habet aliquid eximquo, quod contrasingulos utilitate publicârependitur. Every great example both some touch of injustice, which is requited by the common good against particulars, saith Tacitus. It is likewise true, that for the use of life and service of public society, there may be excess in the purity and perspicuity of our spirits. This piercing brightness hath overmuch subtlety and curiosity. They should be made heavy and dull, to make them the more obedient to example and practice; and they must be thickened and obscured, to proportion them to this shady and terrestrial life. Therefore are vulgar and lesse-wire-drawnewits found to be more fit and happy in the conduct of affairs. And the exquisite and high-raised opinions of Philosophy unapt and unfit to exercise. This sharp vivacity of the spirit and this supple and restless volubility, troubleth our negotiations. human enterprises should be managed more grossly and superficially, and have a good and great part of them left for the rights of fortune. Affairs need not be sifted so nicely and so profoundly. A man looseth himself about the considerations of so many contrary lustres and divers forms. Volntantibus res inter se pugnantes, obtorpuerant animi. Their minds were ●st o●ished, while they revolved ●●●. d●●. 4. l. 2. things so different. It is that which our elders report of Simonides; because his imagination, concerning the question Hyeron the King had made unto him (which the better to answer he had divers dates allowed him to think of it) presented sundry subtle and sharp considerations unto him; doubting which might be the likeliest; he altogether despaired of the truth. Whosoever searcheth all the circumstances and embraceth all the consequences thereof, hindereth his election. A mean engine doth equally conduct, and sufficeth for the executions of great and little weights. It is commonly seen, that the best husbands and the thristiest, are those who cannot tell how they are so; and that these cunning Arethmeticians do seldom thrive by it. I know a notable prattler, and an excellent blazoner of all sorts of husbandry and thrift, who hath most piteously let ten thousand pound sterline a year pass from him. I know another, who saith, he consulteth better than any man of his counsel, and there cannot be a properer man to see unto or of more sufficiency; notwithstanding when he cometh to any execution; his own servants find he is far otherwise: This I say without mentioning or accounting his ill luck. The one and twentieth Chapter. Against idleness, or doing nothing. THe Emperor Vespasian, lying sick of the disease whereof he died, omitted not to endeavour to understand the state of the Empire; and lying in his bed, uncessantly dispatched many affairs of great consequence; and his Physicians chiding him, as of a thing hurtful to his health; he answered, That an Emperor should die standing upright. Lo here a notable saying, fitting my humour, and worthy a great Prince. Adrian the Emperor used the same afterward to like purpose. And Kings ought often to be put in mind of it, to make them feel, that this great charge, which is given them of the commandment over so many men, is no idle charge; and that there is nothing may so justly distaste a subject from purting himself in pain and danger for the service of his Prince, than therewhilst to see him given to laziness, to base and vain occupations, and to have care of his conservation, seeing him so careless of ours. If any shall go about to maintain, that it is better for a Prince to manage his wars by others, then by himself; Fortune will store him with sufficient examples of those, whose Lieutenants have achieved great enterprises; and also of some whose presence would have been more hurtful, then profitable. But no virtuous and courageous Prince will endure to be entertained with so shameful instructions. Under colour of preserving his head (as the statue of a saint) for the good fortune of his estate, they degrade him of his office, which is altogether in military actions, and declare him uncapable of it. I know one, would rather choose to be beaten, than sleep whilst others fight for him; and who without jealousy never saw his men perform any notable act in his absence. And Selim the first had reason to say, that he thought victories gotten in the master's absence, not to be complete. So much more willingly would he have said, that such a master ought to blush for shame, who only by his name should pretend any share in it, having thereunto employed nothing but his thought and verbal direction: Nor that, since in such a business, the advices and commandments, which bring honour, are only those given in the field and even in the action. No Pilot exerciseth his office standing still. The princes of Otomans race (the chiefest race in the world in warlike fortune) have earnestly embraced this opinion. And Bajazeth the second with his son, who ammusing themselves about Sciences, and other private home-matters, neglected the same, gave divers prejudicial blows unto their Empire. And Amurath the third of that name, who now reigneth following their example, beginneth very well to feel their fortune. Was it not the King of England, Edward the third, who spoke these words of our King Charles the fifth? There was never King that less armed himself; and yet was never King, that gave me so much to do, and put me to so many plunges. He had reason to think it strange, as an effect of fortune, rather than of reason. And let such as will number the Kings of Castille and Portugal amongst the warlike and magnanimous conquerors, seek for some other adherent than myself; forsomuch as twelve hundred leagues from their idle residence they have made themselves masters of both India's, only by the conduct and direction of their factors; of whom it would be known, whether they durst but go and enjoy them in person. The Emperor juhan said moreover, that a Philosopher and gallant minded man ought not so much as breath; that is to say, not to give corporal necessities, but what may not be refused them; ever holding both mind and body busied about notable, great and virtuous matters. He was ashamed, any man should see him spit or sweat before people (which is also said of the Lacedaemonian youths, and Xenphon reporeth it of the Persian) forasmuch as he thought that continual travel, exercise and sobriety should have concocted and dried up all such superfluities. What Seneca saith shall not impertinently be alleged here; That the ancient Romans kept their youth upright, and taught their children nothing, that was to be learned sitting. It is a generous desire, to endeavour to die both profitable and manlike: But the effect consisteth not so much in our good resolution, as in our good fortune. A thousand have resolved to vanquish or to die fight, which have miss both the one and other: Hurts or imprisonment, crossing their design and yielding them a forced kind of life. There are diseases which vanquish our desires and knowledge. Fortune should not have seconded the vanity of the Roman Legions, who by oath bound themselves, either to die or conquer. Victor, Marce Fabi, revertar ex acie: Si fallo, lovem patrem Li●. d●●. 〈…〉 ●. 2 Gradiwmque Martem al●osque iratos inveco Deos. I will, O Marcus Fabius, return conqueror from the army. If in this I deceive you, I wish both great jupiter and Mars, and the other Gods offended with me. The Portugals report, that in certain places of their Indian conquests, they found some Soldiers, who with horrible execrations had damned themselves, never to enter into any composition, but either they would be killed or remain victorious; and in sign of their vowe●ore their heads and beards shaved. We may hazard and obstinate ourselves long enough. It seemeth that blows shun them, who over-joyfully present themselves unto them; and unwillingly reach those that overwillingly go to meet them and corrupt their end. Some unable to lose his life by his adversaries force, having assayed all possible means, hath been enforced to accomplish his resolution, either to bear away the honour; or not to carry away his life and even in the fury of the fight to put himself to death. There are sundry examples of it; but neat this one. Philistus, chief General of young Dionysius his navy against the Siracusans, presented them the battle, which was very sharply withstood, their forces being alike; wherein, by reason of his prowess he had the better in the beginning. But the Siracusans flocking thick and threefold about his galley, to grapple and board him, having performed many worthy exploits with his own person, to rid himself from them, despairing of all escape, with his own hand deprived himself of that life, which so lavishly and in vain he had abandoned to his enemy's hands. Mole● Moluch, King of Fez, who not long since obtained that famous victory against Sebastian King of Portugal; a notable victory, by reason of the death of three Kings, and transmission of so great a Kingdom to the crown of Castille, chansed to be grievously sick, at what time the Portugals with armed hand entered his dominions, and afterward, though he foresaw it, approaching nearer unto death, impaired worse and worse. Never did man more stoutly, or more vigorously make use of an undaunted courage, than he. He found himself very weak to endure the ceremonious pomp which the Kings of that Country at their entrance into he Camp, are presented withal, which according to their fashion is full of all magnificence and state, and charged with all manner of action; and therefore he resigned that honour to his brother, yet resigned he nothing but the office of the chief Captain. Himself most gloriously executed, and most exactly performed all other necessary duties and profitable Offices. Holding his body laid along his couch, but his mind upright and courage constant, even to his last gasp; and in some sort after. He might have undermined his enemies, who were fond-hardily advanced in his dominions: And was exceedingly grieved, that for want of a little longer life, and a substitute to manage the War, and affairs or so troubled a state, he was enforced to seek a bloody and hazardous battle, having another pure and undoubted victory in hand. He notwithstanding managed the continuance of his sickness so miraculously, that he consumed his enemy, diverted him from his Sea-Fleete, and Maritime places, he held along the Coast of Africa, even until the last day of his life, which by design he reserved and employed for so great and renowned a fight. He ranged his battle in a round, on every side besieging the Portugals army, which bending round, and coming to close, did not only hinder them in the conflict) which through the valour of that yong-assailant King was very furious) since they were to turn their faces on all sides, but also hindered them from running away after the rout. And finding all issewes seized, and all passages closed, they were constrained to turn upon themselves: coacervantúrque non solum caede, sed etiam fug●. They fall on heaps, not only by slaughter, but by flight. And so pelmell to heap one on another's neck, preparing a most murderous and complete victory to the Conquerors. When he was even dying, he caused himself to be carried and haled, wherever need called for him; and passing along the files, he exhorted the Captains, and animated the Soldiers one after another. And seeing one wing of the fight to have the worst, and in some danger, no man could hold him, but he would needs with his naked-sword in hand get on horsbacke, striving by all possible means, to enter the throng; his men holding him, some by the Bridle, some by the Gown, and some by the Stirrups. This toil and straining of himself, made an end of that little remainder of his life: Then was he laid on his bed: But coming to himself again, starting up, as out of a swoon, each other faculty failing him he gave them warning to conceal his death (which was the necessariest commandment he could give his servaunts, lest the soldiers hearing of his death, might fall into despair) and so yielded the Ghost, holding his fore-fingers upon his mouth; an ordinary signal to impose silence. What man ever lived so long and so near death; Who ever died so upright and undaunted? The extremest degree, and most natural, courageously to manage death, is to see or front the same, not only without amazement, but without care; the course of life continuing free, even in death. As Cato, who ammuzed himself to study and sleep, having a violent and bloody death, present in his hart, and as it were holding it in his hand. The two and twentieth Chapter. Of running Posts, or Curriers. I Have been none of the weakest in this exercise, which is proper unto men of my stature, well-trust, short and tough, but now I have given it over: It toils us overmuch, to hold out long. I was even-now reading, how King Cyrus, that he might more speedily receive news from all parts of his Empire, (which was of exceeding great length) would needs have it tried, how far a horse could in a day go outright, without baiting, at which distance he caused Stations to be set and men to have fresh horses ready, for all such as came to him. And some report, this swift kind of running, answereth the flight of Cranes. Caesar saith, that Lu●ius Vibulus Rufus, making haste to bring Pompey an advertisement, road day and night, and to make more speed shifted many horses. And himself (as Suetonius writeth) would upon an hired coach run a hundred miles a day. And sure he was a rancke-runner: for where any river hindered his way, he swum it over, and never went out of his way to seek for a bridge or ford. Tib erius Nero going to visit his brother Drusus, who lay sick in Germany, having three coaches in his company, ran two hundred miles in four and twenty hours. In the Roman wars against King Antiochus, Titus Sempronius Gracchus (saith Titus Livius) Livius. per dispositos equos propè incredibili celeritae ab Amphisa tertio dic Pellam pervenit: By horse laid post, with incredible speed within three days he passed from Amphisa to Pella. And viewing the place, it seemeth, they were set Stations for Posts, and not newly appointed for that race. The invention of Cecinna in sending news to those of his house had much more speed; he carried certain swallows with him, and having occasion to send news home, he let them fly toward their nests, first marking them with some colour, proper to signify what he meant, as before he had agreed upon with his friends. In the Theatres of Rome, the household Masters, carried Pigeons in their bosoms, under whose wings they fastened letters, when they would send any word home, which were also taught to bring back an answer. D. Brutus, used some being besieged in Mutina, and otherselfe-where. In Peru they went post upon men's backs, who took their Masters upon their shoulders, sitting upon certain bears or chairs, with such agility, that in full running speed the first porters without any stay, cast their load upon others who upon the way waited for them, and so they to others. I understand that the Null, which are messengers unto the great Turk, use extreme diligence in their business, forasmuch as they have authority to dis-mount the first passenger they meet upon the highway, and give him their tired Horse. And because they shall not be weary, they are wont to swath themselves hard about the body with a broad Swath or sear cloth, as divers others do with us: I could never find ease or good by it. The three and twentieth Chapter. Of bad means employed to a good end THere is a wonderful relation and correspondency found in this universal policy of Nature's works, which manifestly showeth, it is neither casual, nor directed by divers masters. The infirmities and conditions of our bodies, are likewise seen in states and governments: Kingdoms and Commowealths as well as we, are borne, flourish, and fade through age. We are subject unto a repleatnesse of humours, hurtful and unprofitable, yea be it of good humours (for even Physicians fear that, and because there is nothing constant in us, they say, that perfection of health over joyful and strong, must by arte be abated and diminished, lest our nature unable to settle itself in any certain place, and for her amendment to ascend higher, should over-violently recoil back into disorder; and therefore they prescrib unto Wrestlers purging and phlebotomy, to subtract that superabundance of health from them) or of bad, which is the ordinary cause of sickness. Of such like repletion are States often seen to be sick, and divers purgations are wont to be used to purge them. As we have seen some to dismiss a great number of families (chiefly to disburden the Country) which else where go to seek where they may at others charge sear themselves. In this sort our ancient French leaving the high Countries of Germany, came to possess Gaul, whence they displaced the first Inhabitants. Thus grew that infinite confluence of people, which afterward under Brennus and others, overranne Italy. Thus the Goths and Vandalles, as also the Nations which possess Greece, left their natural countries, to go where they might have more elbow-room: And hardly shall we see two or three corners in the world, that have not felt the effect of such a removing alteration. The Romans, by such means, erected their Colonies; for perceiving their City to grow over-populous, they were wont to discharge it of unnecessary people, which they sent to inhabit and manure the Countries they had subdued. They have also sometimes maintained war wi●h some of their enemies, not only thereby to keep their men in breath, lest Idleness, the mother of Corruption, should cause them some worse inconvenience. Et patimur longae pacis mala, saevior armis Juven. sa●. 6. 192. Luxuria incumbit. We suffer of long peace the soaking harms, On us lies luxury more fierce than arms. But also to let the Commonwealth blood, and somewhat to allay the over vehement heat of their youth, to lop the sprigs, and thin the branches of this overspreading tree, too much abounding in rankness and gaillardise. To this purpose they maintained a good while war with the Carthaginians. In the treaty of Bretigny, Edward the third, King of England, would by no means comprehend in that general peace the controversy of the Duchy of Brittany to the end he might have some way to disburden himself of his men of war, and that the multitude of Englishmen, which he had employed about the wars of France, should not return into England. It was one of the reasons, induced Philip our King to consent, that his son john should be sent to war beyond the seas, that so he might carry with him a great number of young hot-blouds, which were amongst his trained military men. There are diverse now adays, which will speak thus, wishing this violent and burning emotion we see and feel amongst us, might be derived to some neighbour war, fearing lest those offending humours, which at this instant are predominant in our body, if they be not diverted elsewhere, will still maintain our fever in force, and in the end cause our utter destruction: And in truth a foreign war is nothing so dangerous a dis●ase as a civil: But I will not believe that God would favour so unjust an enterprise, to offend and quarrel with others for our commodity. Nil mihi tam valdè placeat Rhammusia virgo, Cat. epig. el●g. 6. 77. Quòd temerè invitis suscipiatur heris. That fortune likes me not, which is constrained, By Lords unwilling rashly entertained. Notwithstanding the weakness of our condition, doth often urge us to this necessity, to use bad means to a good end. Lycurgus' the most virtuous and perfect Lawgiver that ever was, devised this most unjust fashion, to instruct his people unto temperance, by force to make the Helotes, which were their servants, to be drunk, that seeing them so lost and buried in wine, the Spartans might abhor the excess of that vice. Those were also more to be blamed, who anciently allowed that criminal offenders, what death soever they were condemned unto, should by Physicians all alive be torn in pieces, that so they might naturally see our inward parts, and thereby establish a more assured certainty in their art: For if a man must needs err or debauch himself, it is more excusable, if he do it for his soul's health, then for his bodies good. As the Romans trained up, and instructed their people to valour, and contempt of dangers and death, by the outrageous spectacles of Gladiators, and deadly fight Fencers, who in presence of them all combated, mangled, sliced and killed one another; Quid vesani aliud sibi vult ars impia luds, Quid mortes iuvenum, quid sanguine pasta voluptas? What else means that mad art of impious fence, Those youngmen's deaths, that blood-fed pleasing sense? which custom continued even until the time of Theodosius the Emperor. P●ud ●●st. Sym. l. 2. f. Arripe delatam tua dux in tempora famam, Quódque patris superest successor laudis habeto: Nullus in urbe cadat, cuius sit poena voluptas, jam solis contenta feris infamis arena, Nulla cruentatis homicidia ludat in armis. The fame deferred to your times entertain, Inherit praise which doth from Sire remain, Let none die to give pleasure by his pain: Be shameful theatres with beasts content, Not in gored arms man's slaughter represent. Surely it was a wonderful, example and of exceeding benefit for the people's institution, to see daily one or two hundred, yea sometimes a thousand brace of men armed one against another, in their presence to cut and hack one another in pieces with so great constancy of courage, that they were never seen to utter one word of faintness or commiseration, never to turn their back, nor so much as to show a motion of demissenesse, to avoid their adversaries blows: but rather to extend their necks to their swords, and present themselves unto their strokes. It hath happened to divers of them, who through many hurts being wounded to death, have sent to ask the people, whether they were satisfied with their duty, before they would lie down in the place. They must, not only fight and die constantly, but jocundly: in such sort as they were cursed and bitterly scolded at, if in receiving their death they were any way seen to strive, yea maidnes encited them to it. — consurgit adictus, Et quoties victor ferrum iugulo inserit, illa Prud. cont. Sym. lib. 2. Delicias ait esse suas, pectúsque iacentis Virgo modesta jubet converso pollice rumpi. The modest maid, when wounds are given; upriseth; When victor's sword the vanquished throat surpriseth, She saith, it is her sport, and doth command, T'embrue the conquered breast, by sign of hand. The first Romans disposed thus of their criminals: But afterward they did so with their innocent servants; yea of their freemen, which were sold to that purpose: yea of Senators, and Roman Knights, and women also. Nunc caput in mortem vendunt, & fumus arenae, Ma●il. astr. l. 4 224. Atque hostem sibi quisque parat cum bella quiescunt. They sell men's lives to death and Stages sight, When wars do cease, they find with whom to fight. Hos inter fremitus nouósque lusus, Stat sexus rudis insciúsque ferri, Et pugnas capit improbus viriles. Amidst these tumults, these strange sporting sights. That Sex doth sit, which knows not how sword bites, And entertains unmoved, those manly fights. Which I should deem very strange and incredible; if we were not daily accustomed to see in our wars many thousands of foreign nations, for a very small some of money to engage both their blood and life in quarrels wherein they are nothing interessed. The four and twentieth Chapter. Of the Roman greatness. I Will but speak a word of this infinite argument, and slightly glance at it, to show the simplicity of those, who compare the silly greatness of these times unto that. In the seventh book of Cicero's familiar Epistles (and let grammarians remove this title of Familiar, if they please, for to say truth it makes but little to the purpose: and they who in lieu of familiar, have placed ad familiares, may wrest some argument for themselves, from that which Suetonius saith in Caesar's life, that there was a volume of his Epistles ad familiares) there is one directed unto Caesar then being in Gaul, in which Cicero repeats these very words, which were in the end of a former letter that Caesar had written to him: Touching Marcus Furius, whom thou hast commended unto me, I will make him King of Gaul, and if thou wilt have me prefer any other of thy friends, send them to me. It was not new in a simple Roman Citizen (as Caesar then was) to dispose of Kingdoms, for as well deprived he King Deiotarus of his, to give it to a Gentleman of the City of Pergamo, called Mithridates. And those who writ his life, mention many Kingdoms sold by him. And Suetonius reporteth, that he at one time wrested three millions and six hundred thousand crowns of gold from King Ptolomeus, which amounted very near unto the price of his Kingdom. Claud. in E●trop. li. 1. 20 Tot Galatae, tot Pontus eat, tot lidia n●mmis: Forsomuch let Galatia go, Forsomuch Lydia, Pontus so. Marcus Antonius said, the greatness of the Roman people, was not so much discerned by what it took, as by what it gave. Yet some ages before Antonius, was there one amongst others, of so wonderful authority, as through all his history I know no mark, carrieth the name of his credit higher. Antiochus' possessed all Egypt, and was very near to conquer Cypress, and others depending of that Empire. Upon the progress of his victories, C. Popilius came unto him in the behalf of the Senate, and at first arrival, refused to take him by the hand, before he had read the letters he brought him. The King having read them, said, he would deliberate of them. Popilius with a wand encircled the place about, where he stood, and thus bespoke him; Give me an answer to carry back unto the Senate, before thou go out of this circle. Antiochus' amazed at the rudeness of so urging a commandment, after he had paused a while, replied thus, I will do what the Senate commandeth me. Then Popilius saluted him as a friend unto the Roman people. To have renounced so great a Monarchy, and foregone the course of so successful prosperity, by the only impression of three written lines. He had good reason, as afterward he did, by his Ambassadors to send the Senate word, that he had received their ordinances with the same respect, as if they had come from the immortal Gods. All the Kingdoms Augustus subdued by right of war, he restored to those who had lost them, or presented strangers with them: And concerning this purpose, Tacitus speaking of Cogidunus King of England, by a wonderful tract makes us perceive this infinite greatness Cor. Tac. vit. Jul. Agric. and might. The Romans (saith he) were from all antiquity accustomed, to leave those Kings whom they had vanquished, in the possession of their kingdoms, under their authority: Vt haberent instrument a servitutis & reges. That they might have even Kings also for instruments of their bondage. It is very likely that Soliman the great Turk, whom we have seen to use such a liberality, and give away the kingdom of Hungary, and other dominions, did more respect this consideration, then that he was wont to allege; which is, that he was over wearied with the many Monarchies and surcharged with the several dominions, which either his own or his ancestors virtue had gotten him. The five and twentieth Chapter. How a men should not counterfeit to be sick. THere is an epigram in martial, that may pass for a good one (for there are of all sorts in him) wherein he pleasantly relateth the story of Caelius, who to avoid the courting of certain great men in Rome, to give attendance at their rising, and to wait, assist and follow them, feigned to be troubled with the gout; and to make his excuse more likely, he caused his legs to be ointed and swathed, and lively counteirfeted the behaviour and countenance of a gouty man. In the end fortune did him the favour to make him gouty indeed. Tantum cura potest & ars doloris, Mart. lib. 7. epig. 38. 8. Desiit fingere Caelius podagram. So much the care and cunning can of pain: Caelius (grown gouty) leaves the gout to feign. As far as I remember I have read a like History in some place of Appian, of one who purposing to escape the proscriptions of the Triumutrat of Rome, and to conceal himself from the knowledge of those who pursued him, kept himself close and disguised, adding this other invention to it, which was to counterfeit blindness in one eye, who when he came somewhat to recover his liberty, and would have left off the plaster he had long time worn over his eye, he found that under that mask he had altogether lost the sight of it. It may be the action of his sight was weakened, having so long continued without exercise and the visual virtue was wholly converted into the other eye: For, we may plainly perceive, that holding one eye shut, it convaieth some part of its effect into his follow; in such sort as it will swell and grow bigger. As also the idleness, together with the warmth of the medicaments and swathing, might very well draw some gouty humour into the leg of Marshal's gouty sellow. Reading in Freisart, the vow which a gallant troop of young Englishmen had made, to wear their left eyes hoodwink's, until such time as they should pass into France, and there perform some notable exploit of arms upon us, I have often laughed with myself to think what they would have imagined if as to the fore alleged, it had happened to them, and had all been blind of the left eye, at what time they returned to look upon their mistresses, for whose sake they had made their vow and undertaken such an enterprise. Mother's have great reason to chide their children when they counterfeit to be blind with one eye, crompt backed, squint'-eyed, or lame, and such other deformities of the body; for besides that the body thus tender may easily receive some ill custom, I know not how, it seemeth that fortune is glad to take us at our word; And I have heard diverse examples of some, who have fallen sick in very deed, because they had purposed to sane sickness. I have at all times enured myself, whether I be on horseback or a foot, to carry a good heavy wand or cudgel in my hand; yea I have endeavoured to do it handsomely, and with an effected kind of countenance to continue so. Many have threatened me, that fortune will one time or other turn this my wantonness into necessity. I presume upon this, that I should be the first of my race, that ever was troubled with the gout. But let us somewhat amplify this chapter, and patch it up with another piece concerning blindness. Pliny reports of one, who dreaming in his sleep, that he was blind, awaking the next morning, was found to be stark blind, having never had any precedent sickness. The power of imagination may very well further such things, as elsewhere I have showed; And Pliny seemeth to be of this opinion; but it is more likely, that the motions, which the body felt inwardly (whereof Physicians, may if they please, find out the cause) and which took away his sight, and were the occasion of his dream. Let us also add another story, concerning this purpose, which Seneca reporteth in his Epistles. thou knowest (saith he writing unto Lucilius) that Harpaste my wives fool, is left upon me as an hereditary charge; for by mine own nature, I am an enemy unto such monsters, and if I have a desire to laugh at a fool, I need not seek one far; I laugh at myself. This foolish woman hath suddenly lost her sight. I report a sirange thing, but yet very true: She will not believe she is blind; and urgeth her keeper uncessantly to lead her, saying still, my house is very dark. What we laugh at in her, I entreat thee to belieeve, that the same happeneth to each for us. No man knoweth himself to be covetous, or niggardly. Even the blind require a guide, but we stray from ourselves. I am not ambui●us, say we, but no man can live otherwise at Rome: I am not sumptuous, but the City requireth great charges: It is not my fault, if I be choleric; If I have not yet set down a sure course of my life, the fault is in youth. Let us not seek our evil out of us; it is within us it is rooted in our entrails. And only because we perceive not that we are sick, makes our recovery to prove more difficult. If we begin not betimes to cure ourselves, when shall we provide for so many sores, for so many evils? Yet have we a most-sweete and gentle medicine of Philosophy; for of others, no man feels the pleasure of them, but after his recovery, where as she pleaseth, easeth, and cureth all at once. Lo here what Seneca saith, who hath somewhat diverted me from my purpose: But there is profit in the exchange. The six and twentieth Chapter. Of Thumbs. TAcitus reporteth, that amongst certain barbarous Kings, for the confermation of an inviolable bond, or covenant, their manner was, to join their right hands close and hard together, with interlacing their thumbs: And when by hard wring them the blood appeared at their ends, they pricked them with some sharp point, and then mutually entersucked each one the others. Physicians say, thumbs are the master-fingers of the hand and that their Latin eEtymologie is derived of Pollere. The Grecians call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as a man would say another hand. And it seemeth, the Latins likewise take them sometimes in this sense, id est, for a whole hand: Sed nec vocibus excitata blandis, Mart. lib. 12. epigram. 99 8 Molli pollice nec rogata surgit. It will not rise, though with sweet words excited, Nor with the touch of softest thumb invited. In Rome it was heretofore a sign of favour, to wring and kiss the thumbs, Fautor utroque tuum laudabit pollice ludum: Hor. lib. 1. epist. 18. 66. He that applauds will praise, With both his thumbs thy plays. and of disfavour or disgrace to lift them up, and turn them outward: — converso pollice vulgi juven. sat. 3. 36. Quemlibet occidunt populariter.— When people turn their thumbs away, The popularly any slay. Such as were hurt or maimed in their thumbs, were by the Romans dispensed from going to war, as they who had lost their weapons holdfast. Augustus did confiscate all the goods of a Roman Knight, who through malice had cut off the thumbs of two young children of his thereby to excuse them from going to war: And before him, the Senate in the time of the Italian wars, had condemned Caius Vatienus to perpetual prison, and confiscated all his goods, forsomuch as he had willingly cut off the thumb of his left hand, so to exempt himself from that voyage. Some one, whose name I remember not, having gained a great victory by Sea, caused all the enemies whom he had vanquished and taken prisoners to have their thumbs cut off, thinking thereby to deprive them of all means of fight, of rowing, or handling their oars. The Athenians likewise caused them to be cut off from them of Aegina, to take from them the pre-eminence in the art of navigation. In Lacedaemon, masters punished their Scholars by biting their thumbs. The seven and twentieth Chapter. Cowardice, the Mother of Cruelty. I Have often heard it reported, that Cowardice is the Mother of Cruelty: And have perceived by experience, that this malicious sharpness, and inhuman severity of courage, is commonly accompanied with feminine remissness: I have seen some of the cruellest subject to weep easily, and for frivolous causes. Alexander the tyrant of Pheres, could not endure to see tragedies acted in the theatres, for fear his subjects should see him sob and weep at the misfortunes of Hecuba and Andromaca; he who without remorse or pity caused daily so many poor people to be most cruelly massacred and barbarously murdered. May it be weakness of spirit, makes them so pliable to all extremities? valour (whose effect is only to exercise itself against resistance. Nec nisi bellantis gaudet cervice iuvenci. Claud. epist. ad Hadr. v. 39 Nor takes he joy to domineer, But on the neck of sturdy steer) refrains itself in seeing her enemy prostrate to her mercy: But pusillanimity, to say that she also is of the feast, since it cannot be joined to the first part, takes for her share the second, which is massacre and blood. Murders after victories, are commonly effected by the base kind of people, and officers that wait upon the baggage and carriage. And the reason we see so many unheardof cruelties in popular wars, is, that this vulgar rascality doth martially flesh and enure itself to dive in blood up to the elbows, and mangle a body, or hack a carcase lying and grovelling at their feet, having no manner of feeling of other valour. Et Lupus & turpes instant morientibus Vrsi. Ovid. Trist. li. 3. ●l. 5. 35. — Et quaecumque minor nobilitate fera est. A Wolf or filthy Bear the dying man oppress, Or some such beast as in nobility is less. As the Craven Curs, which at home or in their Kennels will tug and bite the skins of those wild beasts, which in the fields they durst not so much as barke-at. What is it that now adays makes all our qaurrels mortal? And whereas our forefathers had some degree of revenge, we now begin by the last; and at first brunt nothing is spoken of but killing? What is it, if it be not Cowardice? Every man seeth, it is more bravery and disdain for one to bear his enemy, than make an end of him; and to keep him at a bay, than make him die. Moreover, that the desire of revenge is thereby allayed, and better contented; for, it aimeth at nothing so much as to give or show a motion or feeling of revenge only of herself. And that's thereason reason we do not challenge a beast or fall upon a stone, when it hurts us, because they are incapable to feel our ren●nge. And to kill a man, is to shelter him from our offence. And even as Bias, exclaimed upon a wicked man; I know that soon or late thou shalt be punished for thy lewdness, but I fear me I shall not see it: And moaned the Orchomenians, because the penance which Liciscus had for his treason committed against them, came at such a time, as none of them were living, whom it had concerned, and whom the pleasure of that punishment might most delight: So ought revenge to be moaned, when he on whom it is inflicted, looseth the means to endure or feel it. For, even as the revenger, will see the action of the revenge, that so he may feel the pleasure of it, so must he on whom he is revenged both see and feel that he may hereby receive both repentance and grief. He shall rue it, say we, And though he receive a stab or a blow with a pistol on his head, shall we think he will repent? chose, if we mark him well, we shall perceive that in falling, he makes a more or bob at us, He is far from repenting, when he rather seems to be beholding to us: In as much as we afford him the favourablest office of life, which is to make him die speedily, and as it were insensibly. We are left to shift up and down, run and troth, and squat here and there, and all to avoy the the Officers, or escape the Magistrates that pursue us; and he is at rest. To kill a man, is good to escape a future offonce, and not revenge the wrougs past. It is rather an action of fear, than of bravery; Of precaution, than of courage; Of defence, than of an enterprise. It is apparent, that by it, we quit both the true end of revenge, and the respect of our reputation: If he live we fear he will or may charge us with the like. It is not against him, it is for thee, thou riddest thyself of him. In the Kingdom of Narsinga, this expedient would be bootless: There, not only Soldiers, and such as profess arms, but every mean Artificer, decide their quarrels with the sword point. The King never refuseth any man the combat, that is disposed to fight; And if they be men of quality, he will be by in person, and reward the Victor with a chain of Gold: Which, whosoever hath a mind unto, and will obtain it, may freely challenge him that weareth the same, and enter combat with him. And having overcome one combat hath many following the same, If we thought by virtue to be ever superiors unto our enemy, and at our pleasure gourmandize him, it would much grieve us he should escape us, as he doth in dying. We rather endeavour to vanquish surely, than honourably. And in our quarrels we rather seek for the end, than for the glory. Asinius Pollio for an honest man, less excusable, committed a like fault; Who having written certain invectives against Plancus, staid until he were dead to publish them. It was rather to flirt at a blind man, and rail in a deadman's ear, and to offend a senseless man, than incur the danger of his revenge. And men answered in this behalf, that it only belonged to Hobgoblins to wrestle with the dead. He who stayeth till the Author be dead, whose writings he will combat, what saith he, but that he is weak and quarrelous? It was told Aristotle, that some body had spoken ill of him, to whom he answered, Let him also whip me, so myself be not by. Our forefathers were contented to revenge an injury with a lie; a lie with a blow, a blow with blood; and so in order. They were sufficiently valiant not to fear their adversary though he lived and were wronged: Whereas we quake for fear, so long as we see him a foot. And that it is so, doth not our modern practise, pursue to death, as well him who hath wronged us, as him whom we have offended? It is also a kind of dastardliness, which hath brought this fashion into our single combats, to accompany us into the field with seconds, thirds, and fourth's. They were anciently single combats, but now they are skirmishes and battles. To be alone, feared the first that invented it: Quum in se cuique minimum fiduciae esset. When every man had least confidence in himself. For, what company soever it be, it doth naturally bring some comfort & ease in danger, In ancient time they were wont to employ third persons as sticklers, to see no treachery or disorder were used, and to bear witness of the combats success. But now this fashion is come up, let any man be engaged whosoever is envited, cannot well contain himself to be a spectator, lest it be imputed unto him, it is either for want of affection, or lack of courage. Besides the injustice of such an action and villainy, for your honour's protection, to engage other valour and force then your own, I find it a disadvantage in an honest and worthy man, and who wholly trusts unto himself, to entermingle his fortune with a second man: every one runneth sufficient hazard for himself, and need not also run it for another: And hath enough to do to assure himself of his own virtue for the defence of his life, without committing so precious a thing into third menshandes. For, if the contrary hath not expressly been covenanted of all four, it is a combined party. If your fellow chance to fail, you have two upon you, and not without reason: And to say, it is a Superchiery, as it is indeed: as being well armed, to charge a man who hath but a piece of a sword, or being sound and strong, to set upon a man fore hurt. But if they be advantages you have gotten fight, you may use them without imputation. Disparity is not considered, and inequality is not balanced, but by the state wherein the fight is begun. As for the rest you must rely on fortune: and if alone or single, you chance to have three upon you, your other two companions being slain, you have no more wrong done you, than I should offer in Wars in striking an enemy, whom at such an advantage I should find grappled with one of my Fellow Soldiers. The nature of society beareth, where troop is against troop (as where our Duke of Orleans challenged Henry King of England, one hundred against another hundred; three hundred against as many, as did the Argians against the Lacedæmonians; three to three, as were the Horatij against the Curatij) the plurality of either side is never respected for more than a single man. wheresoever there is company, the hazard is confused and disordered. I have a private interest in this discourse. For, my brother, the Lord of Matecoulom, being desired in Rome, to second and accompany a Gentleman, with whom he had no great acquaintance, who was defendant and challenged by another; The fight begun, my brother by chance found himself confronted with one nearer and better known to him (I would feign be resolved of these Laws of honour, which so often shock and trouble those of reason) whom after he had vanquished and dispatched, seeing the two principals of the quarrel yet standing and unhurt, he went to rescue his fellow. What could he do less? should he have stood still, and (if chance would so have had it) see him defeated, for whose defence he was entered the quarrel? What until then he had done was nothing to the purpose, and the quarrel was still undecided. All the courtesy you can, you ought surely use to your enemy, especially when you have brought him under, and to some great disadvantage; I know not how a man may use it, when another's interest depends on it, where you are but accessary, and where the quarrel is not yours. He could never be just nor courteous, in hazard of him unto whom he had lent himself. So was he presently delivered out of the Italian prisons by a speedy and solemn letter of commendations from our King. Oh indiscreet Nation! We are not contented to manifest our follies, and bewray our vices to the world by reputation: but we go into foreign Nations and there in person show them. Place three Frenchmen in the deserts of Libya, and they will never live one month together without brawling, falling out and scratching one another: you would say this peregrination, is a party erected to please strangers with our tragedies; and those most commonly, who rejoice and scoff at our evils. We travel into Italy to learn the Art of fencing, and practise it at the cost of our lives, before we know it; it were requisite according to the order of true Discipline, we should prefer the theoric before the practic. We betray our apprentisage. Primitiae iuvenum miserae, bellique futuri S●●t. ●●lv. lib. 5. Dura rudimenta.— The miserable first essays of youth, And hard beginnings of war that ●nsu'th. I know it is an Art profitable to her end (in the single combat between the two Princes, cosin-Germanes, in Spain, the eldest of which (saith T. Livius) by the skill of his weapons, & by craft, over came easily the dismayed forces of the younger) and as by experience I have known, the knowledge and skill whereof, hath puffed up the hart of some, beyond their natural proportion. But it is not properly a virtue, since she draweth her stay from dexterity, and takes her foundation from other than from herself. The honour of combatet consisteth in the jealousy of the hart, not of the science. And therefore have I seen some of my friends, renowned for great Masters in this exercise, in their quarrels to make choice of weapons, that might well take the mean of this advantage or odds from them; and which wholly depended on fortune, and assurance that their victory might not rather be imputed to their fencing, than ascribed to their valour And in my infancy, our nobility scorned the reputation of a fencer, though never so cunning, as injurious; and if any learned it, they would sequester themselves from company, deeming the same as a mystery of craft and subtlety, derogating from true and perfect virtue. Non schivar, non parar, non ritirarsi Tass●●i●r. can. 12. ●●●●. 55. Voglion costor, ne qui destrezzaha part; Non danno i colpi finti hor pie●i, hor scarsi; Toglie lirae il furor ● uso deilarte, Odi le spade horribilment urtarsi A mozzo il ferro, il pie d`orma non part, Sempre è il pie fermo, è la man sempre in moto, Ne scende taglio in van, ne punta à voto. T`avoyde, toward retiring to give ground They reek not, nor hath nimbleness here part: Nor give false blows, nor full, nor scarce, nor sound, Rage and revenge bereave all use of Arte. Their sword at half Sword horribly resound You might hear met: No foot from step doth part: Their foot still fast, their hand still faster moveth: No stroke in vain, no thrust in vain, but proveth. Shooting at Butts, Tilt, Torneyes, Barriers, the true images of martial combats, were the exercises of our forefathers. This other exercise is so much the less noble, by how much it respecteth but a private end; which against the laws of justice, teacheth us to destroy one another, and every way produceth ever mischievous effects. It is much more worthy, and better beseeming, for a man to exercise himself in things that assure and offend not our Commonwealth; and which respect public security and general glory. Publius Consus, was the first that ever instituted the Soldier to manage his arms by dexterity and skill, and joined art unto virtue, not for the use of private contentions, but for the wars and Roman people's quarrels. A popular and civil manner of fencing. And besides the example of Caesar, who appointed his Soldier, above all things, to aim and strike at the face of Pompey's men in the battle of Pharsalia: A thousand other Chiestaines and Generals have devised new fashions of weapons, and new kinds of striking, and covering of themselves, according as the present affairs required. But even as Philopoemen condemned wrestling, wherein he excelled others, forsomuch as the preparations appertaining to this exercise differed from those that belong to military discipline, to which he supposed, men of honour should ammuse and addict themselves. Me thinks also, that this nimbleness or agility, to which men fashion and enure themselves, their limbs, their turnings, windings, and timble-quicke motions, wherein youth is instructed and trained in this new school, are not only unprofitable, but rather contrary and domageable for the use of military combat: And we see our men do commonly employ particular weapons, in their fence schools, and peculiarly appointed for that purpose. And I have seen it disallowed, that a gentleman challenged to fight with Rapier and Dagger, should present himself in the equipage of a man at arms; or that another should offer to come with his cloak instead of a Dagger. It is worthy the noting, that Lachaz in Plato, speaking of an apprentislage, how to manage arms, conformable to ours, saith, he could never see any notable warrior come of a school of fence, and especially from among the masters. As for them our own experience confirms as much. And for the rest we may at least say, they are sufficiencies of no relation or correspondency. And in the institution of the children of his Common wealth, Plato interdicts the arts of striking or playing with fists, devised by Amycus and Epeius, and to wrestle, invented by Anthoeus and Cecyo: because they aim at another end, then to adapt youth to warlike service, and have no affinity with it. But I digress much from my theme. The Emperor Mauricius, being forewarned by dreams▪ and sundry prognostications, that one Phocas a Soldier at that time yet unknown, should kill him, demanded of Philip his son in law, who that Phocas was, his nature, his conditions, and customs, and how amongst other things Philip told him, he was a faint, cowardly, and timorousfellow: The Emperor thereby presently concluded, that he was both cruel and a murderer. What makes tyrants so blood-thirsty? it is the care of their security, and that their aint-heart yields them no other means to assure themselves, then by rooting out those which may in any sort offend them; yea silly women for fear they should or bite or scratch them? Cuncta ferit dum cuncta timet.— Claud in Eutrop. lib. 1. 182. Of all things he afraid, At all things fiercely laid. The first cruelties are exercised by themselves, thence proceedeth the fear of a just revenge, which afterward produceth a swarm of new cruelties; by the one to stis●le the other. Philip, the King of Macedon, who had so many crows to pull with the Romans, agitated by the horror of so many murders committed by his appointment, and unable to make his party good, or to take any save resolution against so many families, by him at several times injuried, resolved at last to seize upon all their children whom he had caused to be murdered, that so he might day by day one after another rid the world of them, and so establish his safety. Matters of worth are not impertinent wheresoever they be placed. ay, who rather respect the weight and benefit of discourses, than their order and placing, need not fear to place here at random a notable story. When they are so rich of their own beauty, and may very well uphold themselves alone, I am content with a hairs end, to fit or join them to my purpose. Amongst others who had been condemned by Philip, was one Herodicus, Prince of the Thessalians: After whom he caused his two sons in law to be put to death; each of them leaving a young son behind him. Theoxena and Arco were the two widows. Theoxena although she were instantly urged thereunto, could never be induced to marry again. Arco took to husband Poris a chief man amongst the Aenians, and by him had divers children, all which she left very young. Theoxena moved by a motherly charity toward her young nephews, and so to have them in her protection and bringing up wedded Poris. Upon this came out the proclamation of the King's Edict. This noble-minded mother, distrusting the king's cruelty, and fearing the mercilessness of his Satelities or officers towards these noble, hopeful and tender youths, feared not to say, that she would rather kill them with her own hands, then deliver them. Poris amazed at her protestations, promiseth her secretly to convey them to Athens, there by some of his faithful friends to be kept safely. They take occasion of an yearly feast, which to the honour of Aeneas was solemnised at Aenia, and thither they go, where having all day-long assisted to the ceremonies▪ and public banquet: night being come, they convey themselves iuto a ship, appointed for that purpose, in hope to save themselves by Sea. But the wind fell out so contrary, that the next morning they found themselves in view of the town, whence the night before they had hoist sails, where they were pursued by the guarders and Soldiers of the port. Which Poris perceiving, laboured to hasten and encourage the Mariners to shift away: But Theoxena, enraged through love and revenge, remembering her first resolution, prepared both weapons and poison, and presenting them to their sight, thus she bespoke them: Oh my dear children, take a good heart, death is now the only mean of your defence and liberty, and shall be a just cause unto the Gods for their holy justice. These bright-keene blades, these full cups shall free you the passage unto it. Courage therefore, and thou my eldest child, take this sword to die the strongest death. Who on the one side having so undaunted a persuader, and on the other their enemies ready to cut their throats, in furious manner ran all to that which came next to his hand. And so all gored and panting were thrown into the Sea. Theoxena, proud she had so gloriously provided for her children's safety, lovingly embracing her husband, said thus unto him; Oh my dear heart, let us follow these boys, and together with them enjoy one self same grave, And so close-claspt-together, they flung themselves in to the main: So that the ship was brought to shore again, but empty of her Masters. Tyrant's to act two things together, that is, to kill and cause their rage to be felt, have employed the utmost of their skill, to devise lingering deaths. They will have their enemies die, yet not so soon, but that they may have leisure to feel their vengeance. Wherein they are in great perplexity: for if the torments be overviolent, they are short; if lingering, not grievous enough. In this they employ their wits and devises. Many examples whereof we see in antiquity; and I wot not, whether wittingly we retain some spice of that barbarism. Whatsoever is beyond a simple death, seemeth to me mere cruelty. Our justice cannot hope, that he whom the terror of death cannot dismay, be he to be hanged or beheaded, can in any sort be troubled with the imagination of a languishing fire, of a wheel, or of burning pincers. And I wot not, whether in that mean time we bring him to despair: For, what plight can the soul of a man be in, that is broken upon wheel, or after the old fashion, nailed upon a Cross, and xxiv. hours together expects his death? josephus reporteth, that whilst the Roman wars continued in jury, passing by a place where certain jews had been crucified three days before, he knew three of his friends amongst them, and having gotten leave to remove then, two of them died, but the third lived long after. Chalcondylas a man of credit, in the memories he left off matters happened in his time and thereabouts, maketh report of an extreme torment, the Emperor Mechmed was often wont to put in practice, which was by one only blow of a Cimitary or broad Persian Sword, to have men cut in two parts, by the waste of the body, about the Diaphragma, which is a membrane lying overthwart the lower part of the breast, separating the heart and lights from the stomach, which caused them to die two deaths at once: and affirmeth that both parts were seen full of life, to move and stir long time after, as if they had been in lingering torment. I do not think, they felt any great torture in that moving. The gastliest torments to look upon, are not always the greatest to be endured: And I find that much more fiercely-horrible, which other Historians write and which he used against certain Lords of Epirus, whom fair and leisurely he caused to be flayed all over, disposed by so malicious a dispensation, that their lives continued fifteen days in that languor and anguish. And these two others; Croesus having caused a Gentleman to be apprehended, greatly favoured by Pantaleon his brother; led him into a fullers or clothworkers shop, where with Cards and Teazles belonging to that trade, he made him to be carded, scraped, and teazled so long until he died of it. George Sechell Ringleader of the Countrymen of Polina, who under the title of a Croysada, wrought so many mischiefs, having been defeated in a battle by the Vayvoda of Transilvania, and taken Prisoner, was for three days together tied naked to a woden-horse, exposed to all manner of tottures, any man might devise against him; during which time diverse other prisoners were kept fasting. At last, he yet living, saw Lueat his dear brother, and for whose safety he saved and entreated, forced to drink his blood, drawing all the envy and hatred of his misdeeds upon himself. And twenty of his most favoured Captains were compelled to feed upon his flesh, which with their teeth they must tear off, and swallow their morsels. The rest of his body and entrails, he being dead, were boiled in a pan, and given for food to other of his followers. The eight and twentieth Chapter. All things have their season. THose who compare Cato the Censor, to C●●o the younger that killed himself, compare two notable natures, and in form near one unto another. The first exploited his, sundry ways, and excelleth in military exploits, and utility of his public vacations. But the youngers' virtue (besides that it were blasphemy, in vigour to compare any unto him) was much more sincere and unspotted. For, who will discharge the Censores of envy and ambition, that durst countercheck the honour of Scipio, in goodness and all other parts of excellency, far greater and better than him or any other man living in his age? Amongst other things reported of him, this is one, that in his eldest years he gave himself, with so earnest a longing to learn the Greek tongue, as if it had been to quench a long burning thirst: A thing in mine opinion not very honourable in him. It is properly that which we call doting or to become a child again. All things have their season, yea the good and all. And I may say my Pator noster out of season. As T. Quintius Flaminius was accused, forasmuch as being General of an Army, even in the hour of the conflict, he was seen to withdraw himself apart, ammusing himself to pray God, although he gained the battle. Imponit finem sapiens & rebus honestis. juve. sat. 6. 344 A wiseman will use moderation, Even in things of commendation. Eudemonidas seeing Xenocrates very old, laboriously apply himself in his Schoole-lectures said, when will this man know something, since he is yet learning? And Philopoemen, to those who highly extolled King Ptolomey, because he daily hardened his body to the exercise of arms: It is not (said he) a matter commendable in a King of his age, in them to exercise himself, he should now really and substantially employ them. Wise men say, that yoongmen should make their preparations, and old men enjoy them. And the greatest vice they note in us, is, that our desires do uncessantly grow younger and younger. We are ever beginning a new to live. Our studies and our desires should sometimes have a feeling of age. We have a foot in the grave, and our appetites and pursuits are but new-born. Tusecanda marmora Hor car. lib. 2 od. 18. 17. Locas sub ipsum funus, & sepulcri Immemor, struis domos. You, when you should be going to your grave, Put Marble out to work, build houses brave, Unmindful of the burial you must have. The longest of my designs doth not extend to a whole year; now I only apply myself to make an end: I shake off all my new hopes and enterprises: I bid my last farewell to all the places I leave, and daily dispossess myself of what I have. Olim iam nec peris quicquam mihi, nec acquiritur: Plus superest viatici quam viae. It is a good while since I neither lose Sen. epist. 77. p. nor get any thing; I have more to bear my charges then way to go. Vixi, & quem dederat cursum fortuna peregi. Virg. Aen. l. 4. 653. I have lived, and the race have past, Wherein my fortune had me placed. To conclude, it is all the ease I find in my age, and that it suppresseth many cares and desires in me, wherewith life is much disquieted. The care of the world's course, the care of riches, of greatness, of knowledge, of health and of myself. This man learneth to speak, when he should rather learn to hold his peace for ever. A man may always continue his study, but not schooling. O fond-foolish for an old man to be ever an Abcedarian. Diversos diversa iwant, non omnibus annis. Catul. eleg. 1. 103. Omnia conveniunt.— Divers delights to divers, nor to all Do all things at all years convenient fall. If we must needs study let us study something sorteable to our condition, that we may answer, as he did, who being demanded what his studies would stead him in his decrepity, answered; that he might the better, and with more ease leave this world. Such a study was young Cato's, in ●ore feeling his approaching end, who lighting upon Plato's discourse of the soul's immortality. Not, as it may be supposed, that long before he had not stored himself with all sorts of munition for such a dislodging. Of assurance, of constancy and instruction, he had more than Plato hath in all his writings: His Science, and his courage, were in this respect above all Philosophy. He undertook this occupation, not for the service of his death, but as one, who did not so much as interrupt his sleep, in a deliberation of such consequence, whoever without choice or change continued his wont studies, and all other accustomed actions of his life. The same night, wherein the Praetorship was refused him, he passed over in play. That wherein he must die, he spent in reading. The loss of life or office was all one to him. The nine and twentieth Chapter. Of Virtue. I Find by experience, that there is great difference between the sudden fits and fantasies of the soul, and a resolute disposition and constant habitude: And I see, there is nothing but we may attain unto, yea, as some say, to exceed Divinity itself; forsomuch as it is more to become impassable of himself, then to be so by his original condition: And that one may join a resolution and assurance of God to man's imbecility. But it is by fits. And in the lives of those Heroes or noble worthies of former ages, are often found wonderful parts, and which seem greatly to exceed our natural forces: but they are pranks or parts consonant to truth: and it may hardly be believed, man's soul may so be tainted and fed with those so high-raised conditions, that unto it they may become as ordinary and natural. It happeneth unto ourselves, who are but abortive broods of men, sometimes to rouse our soul far beyond her ordinary pitch, as stirred up by the discourses, or provoked by the examples of others. But it is a kind of passion, which urgeth, moveth, agitateth and in some sort ravisheth her from out herself: for, that gust overblown, and storm past, we see, it will unawares unbend and lose itself, if not to the lowest pitch, at least to be no more the same she was, so that upon every slight occasion, for a bird lost, or for a glass broken, we suffer ourselves to be moved and distempered very near as one of the vulgar sort. Fxcept order, moderation and constancy, I imagine all things may be done by an indifferent and defective man. Therefore say wisemen, that directly to judge of a man, his common actions must specially be controlled, and he must every day be surprised in his workday clothes. Pyrrho, who framed so pleasant a Science of ignorance, assayed (as all other true Philosophers) to fashion his life answerable to his doctrine. And forasmuch as he maintained the weakness of man's judgement, to be so extreme, as it could take nor resolution, nor inclination: and would perpetually suspend it, balancing, beholding and receiving all things, as indifferent: It is reported of him, that he ever kept himself after one fashion, look and countenance: If he had begun a discourse, he would end it, though the party to whom he spoke, were gone: And if he went any where, he would not go an inch out of his path, what let or obstacle somever came in his way; being kept from falls, from carts or other accidents by his friends. For, to fear or shun any thing, had been to shock his propositions, which removed all election and certainty from his very senses. He sometimes suffered himself to be cut and cautherized, with such constancy, as he was never seen so much as to shrug, twitch, move or wink with his eyes. It is something to bring the mind to these imaginations, but more to join the effects unto it, yet is it not impossible. But to join them with such preseverance and constancy, as to establish it for an ordinary course; verily in these enterprises so far from common use, it is almost incredible to be done. The reason is this, that he was sometimes found in his house, bitterly scolding with his sister, for which being reproved, as he that wronged his indifferency: What? said he, must this silly woman also serve as a witness to my rules? Another time, being found to defend himself from a dog: It is (replied he) very hard, altogether to despoil and shake off man: And man must endeavour and enforce himself to resist and confront all things, first by effects, but if the worst befall, by reason and by discourse. It is now about seven or eight years since, that a country man, yet living, not above two leagues from this place, having long before been much vexed and troubled in mind, for his wife's jealousy; one day coming home from his work, and she after her accustomed manner welcoming and entertaining him with brawling and scowlding, as one unable to endure her any longer, fell into such a moody rage, that suddenly with a Sickle, which he held in his hand, he clean cut off those parts, that were the cause of her jealousy, and flung them in her f●ce. And it is reported, that a young gentleman of France, amorous and lusty, having by his perseverance at last mollified the hart of his fair mistress, desperate, because coming to the point of his so long sued-for business, he found himself unable and unprepared, and that — non viriliter T●b. l, ad Pri ap. v 4. Iners senil● penis extulerat caput. as soon as he came home, he deprived himself of it: and sent it as a cruel and bloody sacrifice for the expiation of his offence. Had he done it by discourse or for religions sake, as the priests of Cybele were wont to do, what might we not say of so haughty an enterprise? Not long since at Bragerac, five leagues-distance from my house, up the river of Dordaigne, a woman, having the evening before been grievously tormented, and sore beaten by her husband; froward and skittish by complexion, determined, though it should cost her the price of her life, by one mean or other, to escape his rudeness, and rising the next morning, went as she was accustomed to visit her neighbours to whom in some sort the recommended the state of her affairs, than taking a sister of hers by the hand, led her along until she came upon the bridge that crosseth the River, and having bid her heartily farewell; as in the way of sport without showing any manner of change or alteration, headlong threw herself down into the River, where she perished. And which is more to be noted in her, is, that this her determination ripened a whole night in her head. But the Indian Wives, may not here be forgotten as worthy the noting: Whose custom is, that Husbands have many Wives and for her that is dearest unto her Husband, to kill herself after him: Every one in the whole course of her life, endevoreth to obtain this privilege and advantage over all her fellow-wives: And in the good offices and duties they show their hubands, respect no other recompense, than to be preferred to accompany them in death. Vbi mortifero jacta est fax ultima laecto, Propert. lib. 3. el. 12. 17. — Vxorum fusis, stat pia turba comis: Et certamen habent Laethi, quae viva sequatur — Coniugium, pudor est non licuisse mori: Ardent victrices, & flammae pectora praebent, — Imponúnt que suis or a perust a viris. When for his deathbed last flame is appli'de With loose hairs many kind wives stand be side, And strive for death, which alive may be next Her wedlock, who may not is shamed and vexed They that o'ercome, are burned, to flames give way, Their bodies burnt on their burnt husbands lay. A late Writer affirmeth, that himself hath seen this custom highly reputed in the new discovered East India's, where not only the wives are buried with their husbands, but also such slaves as he hath enjoyed; which is done after this manner. The husband being deceased, the widow may, if she will (but few do it) request two or three months space to dispose of her business. The day come, adorned as a sumptuous bride, she mounteth on horseback, and with a cheerful countenance, telleth every body, she is going to lie with her bride groom, holding in her left hand a looking-glass, and an arrow in the right. Thus having a while rid up and down in great pomp and magnificence, accompanied with her friends and kinsmen, and much concourse of people, in feast and jollity, she is brought unto a public place, purposely appointed for such spectacles. Which is a large open place, in the midst whereof is a pit or grave full of Wood, and near unto it an upraised scaffold, with four or five steps to ascend, upon which she is brought, and served with a stately and sumptuous banquet, Which ended, she beginneth to dance and sing, and when she thinks good commandeth the fire to be kindled. That done, she cometh down again, and taking the nearest of her Husband's kindred by the hand, they go together to the nex River, where she strips herself all naked, and distributeth her jewels and clothes among her friends, then plungeth herself in the Water, as if she meant to wash away her sins; then coming out she enwrappeth herself in a yellow piece of linen cloth, about the length of fourteen yards; And giving her hand again unto her Husband's Kinsman, they return unto the Mount, where she speaks unto the people, to whom (if she have any) she recommendeth her Children. Between the Pit and Mount, there is commonly a Curtain drawn, lest the sight of that burning furnace might dismay them: Which many, to show the greater courage, will not have it drawn. Her speech ended, a Woman presenteth her with a Vessel full of Oil, therewith to anoint her head and body, which done, she casteth the rest into the fire, and there withal suddenly flings herself into it: Which is no sooner done, but the people cast great store of Faggots and Billets upon her, lest she should languish overlong: and all their joy is converted into grief and sorrow. If they be persons of mean quality, the dead man's body is carried to the place where they intent to bury him, and there he is placed sitting; his Widow kneeling before him with her arms close about his middle, and so keepeth herself, whilst a Wall is erected up about them both, which raised to the height of her shoulders, some of her kindred taking her by the head behind, wrings her neck about; and having given the last gasp, the wall is immediately made up close over their heads, wherein they remain buried. In the same Country, there was something like to this in their Gymnosophists, or wisemen, who not by meanaces-or compulsions of others, nor by the violence of a sudden humour but by the express and voluntary profession of their rule, their manner was according as they attained unto a certain age, or saw themselves threatened by some sickness, to cause a pile of Wood to be erected, and upon it▪ a rich bed; and having cheerfully feasted their friends and acquaintance, with such a resolution laid themselves down in that bed, that fire set unto it, they were never seen to stir nor hand nor foot? and thus died one of them, named Calanus, in the presence of all the army of Alexander the Great. And who had not so made himself away, was neither esteemed holy nor absolutely happy amongst them? sending his soul purged and purified by fire, after it had consumed whatsoever was mortal and iterrestriall in it. This constant premeditation of all the life, is that which makes the wonder. Amongst our other disputation, that of Fatum, hath much intermeddled itself: and to join future things, and our will itself unto a certain unavoidable necessity, we yet stand upon that argument of former times: since God forseeth all things must thus happen as undoubtedly he doth: They must then necessarily happen so. To which our Clarks and Masters answer, that to see any thing come to pass, as we do, and likewise God (for he being present in full essence, rather feeths than forseeth) is not to force the same to happen: yea we see, because things come to pass, but things happen not because we see. The happening makes the science or knowledge, and not knowledge the happening. What we see come to pass, happeneth; but it might come to pass otherwise. And God in the eternal register of the causes of happening, which he hath in his prescience, hath also those, which are called casual; and the voluntary, which depend of the liberty, he hath given unto our free will, and knoweth we shall fail, because our will shall have been to fail. I have seen divers encourage their troops with this fatal necessity: For, if our hour be tied unto a certain point neither the musket-shottes of our enemies, nor our courage, nor our flight and cowardice, can either advance or recoil the same. This may well be said, but seek you who shall effect it: And if it be so, that a strong and lively faith, doth likewise draw action after it: truly this faith (wherewith we so much fill our mouths) is marvellous light in our times: except the contempt it hath of works, make her disdain their company. So it is, that to the same purpose, the Lord of joinville, as credible a witness as any other, tells us of the Bedoins, a nation intermingled with the Saracine, with whom our King Saint Lewes had to deal in the holy land, who so confidently believed in their religion, the days of every one to be prefixed and numbered from all eternity, by an inevitable preordinance, that they went all bare and naked to the wars, except a Turkish Glaive in their hand, and their body covered but with a white linen-cloth: And for the the bitterest curse, if they chanced to fall out one with another, they had ever in their mouth: Cursed be thou, as he that armeth himself for fear of death. Here is another manner of trial or a belief or faith, then ours, In this rank may likewise be placed that which those two religious men of Florence, not long since gave unto their countrymen. Being in some controversy between themselves about certain points of learning; they accorded to go both into the fire, in the presence of all the people, and in the open market place, each one for the verifying of his opinion; and all preparations were ready made, an execution to be performed, but that by an unexpected accident it was interrupted. A young Turkish Lord, having achieved a notable piece of service in arms, and with his own person, in full view of the two battles between Ammurath & Huniades ready to be joined together, being demanded by Ammurath his Prince, who (being so young and unexperienced, for is was the first war o● service he had seen before) had replenished him with so generous and undaunted vigour of courage? answered, that a Hare had been his sovereign master and only teacher of valour; and thus began his speech. Being one day a hunting, I found a Hare sitting in her form, and although I had a brace of excellent good greyhounds with me in a slip or leash, I thought it good, because I would be sure of my game to use my bow; for she was a very fair mark I began to shoot● my arrows at her, which I did to the number of forty (for in my quiver were just so many) yet could I never hurt her, no not so much as start her: After all this, I let slip my gray-hounds, who could do no more than I had done: by which I learned, that she had been sheltered and defended by her destiny; and that no glaives nor arrows never hit, but by the permission of our fatality, which it lieth not in us to avoid or advance. This story may serve to make us perceive by the way, how flexible our reason is to all sorts of Objects. A notable man, great in years, in name, in dignity and in learning, vaunted himself unto me, that he was induced to a certain most important change of his religion, by a strange and fantastical incitation: and in all things so il-concluding that I deemed the same stronger and more forcible, being taken contrary. He termed it a miracle, and so did I, but in a different sense. Their historians say, that persuasion having popularly been scattered amongst the Turks, of the fatal and inflexible prescription of their days, doth apparently aid to warrant and emboulden them in dangers. And I know a great Prince, who happily thrives by it, be it he believe it, or take it for an excuse to hazard himself extraordinarily; provided fortune be not soon weary to favour and back him. There hath not happened in our memory a more admirable effect of resolution, than of those two villains that conspired the death of the Prince of Orange: It is strange how, the last, who performed the same could be induced or encouraged to undergo such an enterprise, wherein his fellow (though he had resolutely attempted it, and had all might be required for such an action) had so ill success, and miscarried. And in these steps, and with the same weapons, to go and undertake a Lord, armed with so late an instruction of distrust; mighty in friends and followers; puissant of bodily strength; in his own hall; amidst his servants and guard; and in a City wholly at his devotion. It must of force be said, that in performing it, he employed a well-directed and resolute hand, and a dreadless courage moved by a vigorous passion. A Poniard is more sure to wound a man, which forsomuch as it requireth more motion and vigour of the arm, than a pistol, it's stroke is more subject to be hindered or avoided. That the first ran not to an assured death, I make no great doubt, for the hopes wherewith he might be entertained could not harbour in a well settled and resolute mind; and the conduct of his exploit, showeth, he wanted no more that, than courage. The motions of so forcible a persuasion may be divers; for, our fantasy disposeth of herself and of us as she pleaseth. The execution committed near Orleans had no coherence with this, wherein was more hazard, than vigour; the blow was not mortal, had not fortune made it so: and the enterprise to shoot on horseback and far-off, and to one who moved still according to the motion of his horse was the attempt of a man, that rather loved to miss of his effect, then fail to save himself. What followed did manifestly show it. For, he was so amazed & drunken with the thought of so haughty an execution, as he lost all his senses, both to work his escape, and direct his tongue in his answers. What needed he have done more, then recover his friends by crossing of a river; It is a mean, wherein I have cast myself in far less dangers, and which I think of small hazard, how broad soever, always provided your horse find an easy entrance, and on the further side you foresee an easy and shallow landing, according to the course of the stream of the water. The second, when the horrible sentence was pronounced against him, answered stoutly, I was prepared for it, and I shall amaze you with my patience. The Assassins, a nation depending of Phoenicia, are esteemed among the Mahometists of a sovereign devotion and purity of manners; they hold, that the readiest and shortest way to gain Paradise, is to kill some one of a contrary religion: therefore hath it often been seen, that one or two in their bare doublets have undertaken to assault mighty enemies, with the price of an assured death, and without any care of their own danger. And thus was our Earl Raymond of Tripoli murdered or assassinated (this word is borrowed from their name) in the midst of his City, during the time of our wars in the holy land: And likewise Conrade Marquis of Montferrato, his murderers being brought to their torture, were seen to swell with pride, that they had performed so worthy an exploit. The thirtieth Chapter. Of a monstrous Child, THis discourse shall pass single, for I leave it to Physicians to treat of. I saw two days since a child, whom two men and a nurse (which named themselves to be his father, his Uncle, and his Aunt) carried about with intent to get some money with the sight of him, by reason of his strangeness. In all the rest, he was as other children are, He stood upon his feet, went and prattled in a manner as all others of his age: He would never take nourishment, but by his nurses breast; and what in my presence was offered to be put in his mouth, he chewed a little, and put it all out again. His puling differed somewhat from others: He was just fourteen months old. Under his paps he was fastened and joined to an other child, but had no head, and who had the conduit of his back stopped, the rest whole. One of his arms was shorter than the other, and was by accident broken at their birth. They were joined face to face, and as if a h●●e child would embrace another somewhat bigger. The joining and space whereat they were closed together, was but four inches broad, or thereabouts; insuch sort that if you thrust up the imperfect child, you might see under the others navel: And the seam was between the paps and his navel. The navel of the imperfect one could not be seen but all the rest of his belly ●●ght, Thus, what of the imperfect one was not joined, as arms buttocks, thighs and legs did hang and shake upon the other, whose length reached to the middle-leg of the other perfect. His Nurse told me, he made water by both privities. The members of the little one were nourished, living▪ and in the same state as the others, except only, they were less and thinner. This double body, and these different members, having reference to one only head, might serve for a favourable prognostieation to our King, to maintain the factions and differing parties of this our kingdom under an unity of the laws. But, lest the success should prove it contrary, it is not amiss Cic. divin. lib. 2. to let him run his course: For in things already past their need no divination. Vt quum factasunt, tum ad coniecturam aliqua inter pretatione revocantur: So as when they are done, they then by some construction should be revoked to conjecture: As it is reported of Epimenides, who ever divined backward, I come now from seeing of a shepherd at Medoc, of thirty years of age, or thereabouts, who had no sign at all of genitorie parts: But where they should be, are three little holes, by which his water doth continually trill from him. This poor man hath a beard, and desireth still to be fumbling of women. Those which we call monsters are not so with God, who ●● the immensity of his work fetch the infinity of form therein contained. And it may be thought, that any figure doth amaze us, hath relation unto some other figure of the same kind, although unknown unto man. From out his allseeing wisdom proceedeth nothing but good, common regular and orderly; but we neither see the sorting, nor conceive the relation. Quod crebrò videt, non miratur, etiam si, our fiat nescit. Quod antè non videt, id, si evenerit, ostentum Cic. divin. lib. 2. esse censet. That which he often seeth, he doth not wonder at, though he know not why it is done; But if that happen, which he never saw before, he thinks it some portentous wonder. We call that against nature, which cometh against custom: There is nothing, whatsoever it be, that is not according to her. Let therefore this universal and natural reason, chase from us the error, and expel the astonishment, which novelty breedeth, and strangeness causeth in us. The one and thirtieth Chapter. Of anger and choler. PLutarke is every where admirable, but especially where he judgeth of human actions. The notable things he reporteth, may be perceived in the comparison of Lycurgus and Numa, speaking of the great simplicity we commit, in leaving young children under the government and charge of their fathers and parents. Most of our policies, or Commonwealths, saith Aristotle (as the Cyclopes were wont) commit the conduct of their wives, and charge of their children, to all men, according to their foolish humour or indiscreet fantasies. And well-nigh, none but the Lacedaemonian and Cretensian, have resigned the discipline of children to the laws. Who seeth not, that in an estate all things depend of nurture and education? And all the while, without discretion, it is wholly left to the parents mercy, how foolish and wicked soever they be. Amongst other things, how often (walking through our streets) have I desired to have a play or comedy made in revenge of young boys, which I saw thumped, misused▪ and well nigh murdered by some harebrained, moody, and through choller-raging Fathers and Mothers, from out whose eyes a man might see sparkles of rage to startle, — rabie iecur incendente feruntur I●● sat. 6. 548 Praecipites, ut saxa iugis abrupta, quibus mons Subtrahitur, cli●òque latus pendente recedit: They headlong run with rage, which doth inflame their livers Like stones that broken fall from mountain tops in shivers, The hill withdraws, and they are rolled From hanging cliff which leaves their hold. (And according to Hypocrates, the most dangerous infirmities, are those which disfigure the face) and with a loud thundering voice often to follow children that came but lately from nurse; Which after prove lame, maimed, blockish and dull-pated with blows: And yet our laws make no account of it, as if these spraines, and unjoyntings of limbs, or these maims were no members of our Commonwealth. Gratum est quód patriae civem populóque dedisti, Si facis ut patriae sit, idoneus utilis agris, I●●. sat. 14. 70. Vtilis & bellorum & pacis rebus agendis. That you to th'country give a man, 'tis acceptable, If for the country fit you make him, for fields able, Of peace and war for all achievements profitable. There is no passion so much transports the sincerity of judgement, as doth anger. No man would make conscience to punish that judge by death; who in rage or choler had condemned an offender▪ And why should fathers be allowed to beat, or schoolemaesters be suffered to whip children, or to punish them being angry? It is no longer correction, but revenge. Punishment ●● unto children as physic; and would any man endure a physician, that were angry and wroth against his patient? Ourselves (did we well) during the time of our anger, should never lay hands one our servants. So long as our pulse panted, and we feel any concitation, so long remit we the party: And things will seem far otherwise unto us, if we once come to our senses again, and shall better bethink us. Then is it passion that commands. It is passion that speaketh and not we. Athwart it, faults seem much greater unto us, as bodies do athwart a foggy mist. Whoso is hungry, useth meat, but who so will use chastisement, should never hunger nor thirst after it. Moreover, corrections given with discretion and moderation, are more gently received, and with more good to him that receiveth them. Otherwise he shall never think to have been justly condemned, by a man who is transported by rage and choler, and for his justification allegeth the extraordinary motions of his master, the inflammation of his face, his unwonted oaths, his chafing, his unquiernesse and hi● ra●h precipitation. Ora tument ira, nigrescunt sanguine venae, Lumina Gorgoneo saevius igne micant. Ovid. art. Am. lib. 3. 53. The face with anger swells, the veins grow black with blood, The eyes more fiercely shine then Gorgon's, fiery mood. Suetonius writeth, that Caius Rabirius, having by Caesar been condemned, nothing, did him so much good toward the people (to whom he appealed) to make him obtain his suit, as the sharpness and over boldness which Caesar had declared in that judgement. Saying is one thing, and doing another. A man must consider the sermon apart and the preacher several. Those have made themselves good sport, who in our days have gone about to check the verity of our Church, by the ministers vice: She fetcheth her testimony from elsewhere. It is a foolish manner of arguing, and which would soon reduce all things to a confusion. An honest man may sometimes have false opinions, and a wicked man may preach truth: Yea such a one as believes it not. Verily, it is a pleasing harmony, when doing and saying go together. And I will not deny, but saying, when deeds follow, is of more efficacy and authority: As said Eudamidas, when he heard a Philosopher discourse of war: These speeches are good, but he that speaks them, is not to be believed, For his ears were never accustomed to hear the clang of trumpets, nor rattling of drums. And Cleomenes hearing a Rhetorician speak of valour, burst out into an extreme laughter: Whereat the other being offended, he said unto him: I would do as much if it were a Swallow should speak of it, but were he an Eagle, I should gladly hear him. Me seemeth I perceive in ancient men's writings, that he who speaks what he thinketh, toucheth nearer the quick, than he who counterfeits. Hear Cicero speak of the love of liberty; then listen to Brutus, their very words will tell you and sound in your ear, the latter was a man raedie to purchase it with the price of his life. Let Cicero, that father of eloquence treat of the contempt of death, and let Seneca discourse of the same; the first draws iton languishing, and you shall plainly perceive, he would feign resolve you of a thing, whereof he is not yet resolved himself. He giveth you no hart, for himself hath none: Whereas the other doth rouse, animate and inflame you. I never look upon an Author, be they such as write of virtue and of actions, but I curiously endeavour to find out what he was himself. For, the Ephori of Sparta, hearing a dissolute liver propose a very beneficial advice unto the people, commanded him to hold his peace, and desired an honest man to assume the invention of it unto himself and to propound it. Plutarkes' compositions, if they be well favoured, do plainly manifest the same unto us: And I am persuaded I know him inwardly: Yet would I be glad, we had some memories of his own life: And by the way I am fallen into this discourse, by reason of the thanks I owe unto Aulus Gellius, in that he hath left us written this story of his manners, which fitteth my subject of anger. A slave of his, who was a lewd and vicious man, but yet whose ears were somewhat fed with Philosophical documents, having for some faults by him committed, by the commandment of Plutarch his master, been stripped naked, whilst another servant of his whipped him, grombled in the beginning, that he was whipped without reason, and had done nothing: But in the end, mainly crying out, he fell to railing and wronging his master, upbraiding him, that he was not a true Philosopher, as he vaunted himself to be, and how he had often heard him say, that, it was an unseemly thing in a man to be angry. And that he had made a book of it: And now all plunged in rage, and engulfed in choler to cause him so cruelly to be beaten, was clean contrary to his own writing. To whom Plutarch with an unaltered, and milde-settled countenance, said thus unto him. What? Thou rascal, whereby dost thou judge I am now angry? Doth my countenance, doth my voice, doth my colour, or doth my speech give thee any testimony, that I am either moved or choleric? Me seemeth, mine eyes are not staringly-wilde, nor my face troubled, nor my voice frightful or distempered: Do I wax red? Do I foam at the mouth? Doth any word escape me I may repent hereafter? Do I startle and quake? Do I rage and ruffle with anger? For, to tell thee true, these are the right signs of choler and tokens of anger. Then turning to the party that whipped him, continue still thy work, quoth he whilst this fellow and I dispute of the matter. This is the report of Gellius. Architas Tarentinus returning from a war, where he had been Captain general, found his house all out of order, husbandry all spoiled, and by the ill government of his Bailie, his ground all waste and unmanured; and having called for him, said thus; Away bad man, for if I were not angry, I would have the whipped for this. Plato likewise, being vexed and angry with one of his slaves, commanded Speusippus to punish him, excusing himself, that now being angry he would not lay hands upon him. Charillus the Lacedaemonian, to on Ilelot or country hind behaved himself over insolently and audaciously towards him; By the Gods (said he) If I were not now angry, I would presently make thee die. It is a passion which pleaseth and flattereth itself. How many times being moved by any false suggestion, if at that iustant we be presented with any lawful defence or true excuse, do we fall into rage against truth and innocency itself? Touching this purpose, I have retained a wonderful example of antiquity. Piso in diverse other respects, a man of notable virtue, being angry, and chafing with one of his Soldiers, who returning from forage or boot-haling, could not give him an account where he had left a fellow-soldier of his, and thereupon concluding he had killed or made him away, forthwith condemned him to be hanged. And being upon the gallows ready to die; behold his companion, who had straggled abroad, coming home, whereat all the army rejoiced very much, and after many embracings and signs of joy between the two soldiers, the hangman brought both unto Piso; all the company hoping, it would be a great pleasure unto him; but it fell out clean contrary▪ for through shame & spite his wrath still burning was redoubled, and with a sly devise his passion instantly presented to his mind, he made three guilty, forsomuch as one of them was found innocent; and caused them all three to be dispatched. The first Soldier because he was aliedie condemned; the second, which had straggled abroad, by reason he was the cause of his fellows death; and the hangman, for that he had not fulfilled his generals commandment. Those who have to deal with froward and skittish women have no doubt seen what rage they will fall into, if when they are most angry and cha●ing, a man be silent and patient, and disdain to foster their anger and wrath, Celius the Orator was by nature exceeding fretful and choleric. To one who was with him at supper, a man of a mild and gentle conversation, and who because he would not move him, seemed to approve what ever he said, and yield to him in every thing; as unable to endure his peevishness should so pass without some nourishment, burst out into a rage, and said unto him. For the love of God deny me something, that we may be two. So women are never angry, but to the end a man should again be angry with them, therein imitating the laws of Love. Photion to a man who troubled his discourse with brawling and skolding at him, in most injurious manner, did nothing else but hold his peace and given him what leisure he would to vent his choler; which done, without taking any notice of it, began his discourse again where he had left it off, There is no reply so sharp as such silent contempt. Of the most choleric and tasty man of France (which is ever an imperfection, but more excusable in a military man; for it must needs be granted, there are in that profession some men who cannot well avoid it) I ever say, he is the patientest man I know to bridle his choler; it moveth and trannsporteth him with such fury and violence, — magno veluti cum flamma sonore Virg. Ae●. lib. 462. Virgea suggeritur cost is undantis aheni, Exultántque aestu latices, furit in●us aquaï Fumidus atque al●è spumis exuberat amnis, Nec iam se capit unda, volat vapour after ad auras, As when a faggot flame with hurrying sounds Under the ribs of boiling cauldron lies, The water swells with heat beyond the bounds, Whence steaming streams raging and foaming rise, Water out-runn's itself, black vapours fly to skies. that he must cruelly enforce himself to moderate the same. And for my part, I know no passion I were able to smother with such temper and abide with such resolution. I would not set wisdom at so high a rate. I respect not so much what he doth, as how much it costs him not to do worse. Another boasted in my presence, of his behaviours order and mildness, which in truth is singular: I told him, that indeed it was much, namely in men of so eminent quality, as himself was, on whom all eyes are fixed, always to show himself in a good temper: but that the chiefest point consisted in providing inwardly and for himself; and that in mine opinion, it was no discreet part inwardly to fret: which, to maintain that mark and formal outward appearance, I feared he did. Choler is incorporated by concealing and smothering the same, as Diogenes said to Demosthenes, who fearing to be seen in a Tavern, withdrew himself into the same: The more thou recoylest back, the further thou goest into it. I would rather persuade a man, though somewhat out of season, to give his boy a whirret on the ea●e, then to dissemble this wise, stern or severe countenance, to vex and fret his mind. And I would rather make show of my passions, then smother them to my cost: which being vented and expressed, become more languishing and weak: Better it is to let its point work outwardly, then bend it against ourselves. Omnia vitia in aperto leviora Sen. episti 56. sunt: & tunc perniciosissimae, quum simulata sanitate subsidunt. All vices are then less perilous when they lie open to be seen, but then most pernicious, when they lurk under counterfeited soundness. I ever warn those of my household, who by their offices-authoritie may sometimes have occasion to be angry, first to husband their anger; than not to employ it upon every slight cause; for that impeacheth the effect and worth of it. Rash and ordinary brawling is converted to a custom, and that's the reason each man contemns it: That which you employ against a servant for any thieving, is not perceived, because it is the same he hath sundry times s●ene you use against him, if he have not washed a glass well o● misplaced a stool. Secondly, that they be not angry in vain, but ever have regard their chiding come to his ears with whom they are offended: for, commonly some will brawl before he come in their presence, and chide a good while after he is gone, & secum petulans amentia ce● tat. Claud. in 〈◊〉 1. 48. Madness makes with itself a fray, Which fond doth the wanton play. and wreak their anger against his shadow, and make the storm fall where no man is either chastised or interressed, but with the rumour of their voice, and sometimes with such as cannot do withal. I likewise blame those who being angry, will brave and mutime when the party with whom they are offended is not by. These Rodomantadoes must be employed on such as fear them. Mugitus veluti cum prima in praelia taurus Vir Aen. l. 12. 1. 03. Terrificos ●iet, atque ir asci in cornua tentat, Arborts obnixus trunco, ventósque lac●ssit Ictibus, & sparsa ad pugnam proludit arena. As when a furious Bull to his first combat moves His terror-breeding allows, his horn to anger proves, Striving against a trees trunk, and the wind with strokes, His preface made to fight with scattered sand, provokes. When I chance to be angry, it is in the earnest●st manner that may be, but yet as briefly and as secretly, as is possible. I lose myself in hastiness and violence, but not in trouble: So that, let me spend all manner of injurious words at random and without all heed, and never respect to place my points pertinently, and where they may do most hurt: For commonly I employ nothing but my tongue. My boys scape better cheap in great matters, then in small trifles. 'Slight occasions surprise me, and the mischief is, that after you are once fallen into the pit, it is no matter who thrusts you in, you never cease till you come to the bottom. The fall presseth, hasteneth, moveth and furthereth itself. In great occasions I am pleased, that they are so just. that every body expects a reasonable anger to ensue. I glorify myself to deceive their expectation. Against these I bandy and prepare myself; they make me summon up my wits, and threaten to carry me very far, if I would follow them. I easily keep myself from falling into them, and if I stay for them, I am strong enough to reject the impulsion of this passion, what violent cause soever it hath. But if it seize upon and once preoccupate me, what vain cause soever it hath, it doth clean transport me: I condition thus with those that may contest with me, when you perceve me to be first angry, be it right or wrong, let me hold-on my course, I will do the like to you, when ever it shall come to my lot. The rage is not engendered but by the concurrency of cholers, which are easily produced one of another, and are not borne at one instant. Let us allow every man his course, so shall we ever be in peace. Oh profitable prescription, but of an hard execution! I shall some time seem to be angry for the order and direction of my house, without any just emotion. According as my age yieldeth my humours more sharp or peevish, so do I endeavour to oppose myself against them, and if I can I will hereafter enforce myself to be less froward and not so tasty. As I shall have more excuse and inclination to be so; although I have heretofore been in their number that are least. A word more to conclude this Chapter: Aristotle saith, Choler doth sometimes serve as arms unto Virtue and Valour. It is very likely: notwithstanding such as gainsay him, answer pleasantly, it is a weapon of a new fashion and strange use: For we move other weapons, but this moveth us: our hand doth not guide it, but it directeth our hand; it holdeth us, and we hold not it. The two and thirtieth Chapter. A defence of Seneca and Plutarch. THe familiarity I have with these two men, and the aid they afford me in my old age, and my Book merely framed of their spoils, bindeth me to wed and maintain their honour. As for Seneca, amongst a thousand petty-Pamphlets, those of the pretended reformed religion have published for the defence of their cause, which now and then proceed from a good hand, and which, pity it is, it should not be employed in more serious and better subjects: I have heretofore seen one, who to prolong and fill up the similitude, he would find between the government of our unfortunate late king Charles the ninth and that of Nero, compareth the whilom lord Cardinal of Loren● unto Seneca; their fortunes to have been both chief men in the government of their Princes, and therewithal their manners, their conditions and their demeanours: wherein (in mine opinion) he doth the said lord Cardinal great honour: for, although I be one of those that highly respect his spirit, his worth, his eloquence, his zeal toward his religion and the service of his King; and his good fortune to have been borne in an age, wherein he was so new, so rare, and there withal so necessary for the commonwealth, to have a Clergyman of such dignity and nobility, sufficient and capable of so weighty a charge: yet to confess the truth, I esteem not his capacity such, nor his virtue so exquisitely unspotted, nor so entire or constant, as that of Seneca. Now this Book whereof I speak, to come to his intention, maketh a most injurious description of Seneca, having borrowed his reproaches from Dion the Historian, to whose testimony I give no credit at all: For beside, he is inconstant, as one who after he hath called Seneca exceeding wise, and shortly after termed him a mortal enemy to Nero's vices, in other places makes him covetous, given to usury, ambitious baseminded, voluptuous and under false pretences, and feigned shows, a counterfeit Philosopher; his virtue appeareth so lively, and wisdom so vigorous in his writings; and the defence of these imputations is so manifest, as well of his riches, as of his excessive expenses, that I believe no witness to the contrary. Moreover, there is great reason we should rather give credit to Roman Historians in such things, then to Grecians and strangers, whereas Tacitus and others speak very honourably of his life and death, and in all other circumstance declare him to have been a most excellent and rarely-vertuous man. I will allege no other reproach against Dions' judgement, than this, which is unavoidable: that is, his understanding of the Roman affairs, is so weak and ill advised, as he dareth defend and maintain julius Caesar's cause against Pompey, and bl●sheth not to justify Antonius against Cicero. But let us come to Plutarch; john Bodine is a good modern Author▪ and endowed with much more judgement than the common-rabble of Scribblers and blur-papers which now adays stuff Stationer's shops, and who deserveth to be judged, considered and had in more than ordinary esteem. Nevertheless I find him somewhat malapert and bold in that passage of his Method of History, when he accuseth Plutarch, not only of ignorance (wherein I would have let him say his pleasure, for that is not within my element) but also that he often writeth, things, altogether incredible and merely fabulous (these are his very words) If he had simply said things otherwise than they are, it had been no great reprehension: for, what we have not seen, we receive from others and upon trust: And I see him sometime, wittingly and in good earnest report one and same story diversely: As, the judgemenns of three best captains that ever were, spoken by Hannibal, is otherwise in Flaminius his life, & otherwise in Pyrrhus. But to tax him, to have taken incredible and impossible things for ready payment, is to accuse the more judicious author of the World of want of judgement. And see here his example: As (saith he) when he reports, that a Child of Lacedaemon suffered all his belly and guts to be torn out by a Cubbe or young Fox, which he had stolen. and kept close under his garment, rather than he would discover his theft. First, I find this example ill chosen: Forasmuch as it is very heard to limit the powers of the soules-faculties, whereas of corporal forces, we have more law to limit and know them: And therefore, had I been to write of such a subject I would rather have made choice of an example of this second kind. And some there be less credible. As amongst others, that which he reports of Pyrrhus, who being fore wounded, gave so great a blow with a sword unto one of his enemies, armed at all assays, and with all pieces, as he cloven him from the Crown of the head down to the groin, so that the body fell in two pieces. In which example I find no great wonder, nor do I admit of his excuse, wherewith he cloaketh Plutarch, to have added this Word, (as it is said) to forewarn us, and restrain our belief. For, if it be not in things received by authority and reverence of antiquity or religion, neither would himself have received, nor proposed to us▪ to believe things in themselves incredible: And that (as it is said) he doth not here set down this phrase to that purpose, may easily be perceived, by what himself in other places telleth us upon the subject of the Lacedaemonian children's patience, of examples happened in his time, much harder to be persuaded: As that which Cicero hath also witnessed before him because, (as he saith) he had been there himself: That even in their times there were Children found prepared to endure all manner of patience, whereof they made trial before Diana's Altar, and which suffered themselves to be whipped, till the blood trilled down all parts of their body, not only without crying, but also without sobbing: and some who voluntarily suffered themselves to be scourged to death. And what Plutarch also reporteth, and a hundredth other witnesses aver, that assisting at a sacrifice, a burning coal happened to fall into the sleeve of a Lacedaemonian child, as he was busy at incensing, suffered his arm to burn so long, until the smell of his burnt flesh came to all the bystanders. There was nothing according to their custom, so much called their reputation in question, and for which they endured more blame and shame, than to be surprised stealing. I am so well instructed of those men's greatness of courage, that this report, doth not only not seem incredible to me, as to Bodine, but I do not so much as deem it rare, or suppose it strange: The Spartan story is full of thousands of much more rare and cruel examples; then according to this rate, it containeth nothing but miracle. Concerning this point of stealing, Marcellinus reporteth, that whilst he lived, there could never be found any kind of torment that might in any sort compel the Egyptians surprised filching (which was much used amongst them) to confess and tell but their names. A Spanish Peasant being laid upon the rack, about the complices of the murder of the Praetor Lucius Piso, in the midst of his torments cried out, his friends should not stir, but with all security assist him, & that it was not in the power of any grief or pain to wrest one word of confession from him: and the first day nothing else could possibly be drawn from him: The next morrow as he was led toward the rack, to be tormented a new, he by strong violence freed himself from out his keeper's hands, and so furiously ran with his head against a Wall, that he burst his brains out, and presently fell down dead. Epicharis, having glutted & wearied the moody cruelty of Nero's Satellites or officers, and stoutly endured their fire, their beat, & their engines a whole day long, without any one voice, or word of revealing her conspiracy, & the next day after, being again brought to the torture, with her limbs bruised & broken, conveyed the lace or string of her Gown over one of the pillars of the Chair wherein she sat, with a sliding knot in it, into which suddenly thrusting her head, she strangled herself with the weight of her body: Having the courage to die so, and steal from the first torments; seemeth she not purposely to have lent her life to the trial of her patience of the precedent day, only to mock that Tyrant, and encourage others to attempt the like enterprise against him? And he that shall inquire of our Argolettiers or Freebooters, what experiences they have had in these our late Civil wars, shall no doubt find effects & examples of patience, of obstinacy and stif-neckednesse in these our miserable days, and amidst the effeminate, and puling worldlings far beyond the Egyptian, and well worthy to be compared to those already reported of Spartan virtue. I know, there have been found silly boors, who have rather endured to have their feet broiled upon a Greedyron, their fingers ends crushed and wrung with the lock of a Pistol, their eyes all bloody to be thrust out of their heads with wring and wresting of a cord about their foreheads, before they would so much as be ransomed. I have seen and spoken with one, who had been left all naked in a ditch for dead, his neck all bruised and swollen, with a halter about it, wherewith he had been dragged a whole night at a horse's tail through thick & thin, with a hundred thrusts in his body, given him with daggers, not to kill him outright, but to grieve and terrify him, and who had patiently endured all that, and lost both speech and sense, fully resolved (as himself told me) rather to die a thousand deaths (as verily, if you apprehend what he suffered, he passed more than one full death) then promise any ransom; yet was he one of the wealthiest husbandmen in all his country. How many have been seen, who have patiently endured to be burnt and roasted for unknown and wilful opinions, which they had borrowed of others: Myself have known a hundred and a hundred women (for, the saying is, Gaskoine heads have some prerogative in that) whom you might sooner have made to bite a red-hot piece of iron, then recant an opinion, they had conceived in anger. They will be exasperated and grow more fell against blows and compulsion. And he who first invented the tale of that woman, which by no threats or stripes, would leave to call her husband pricke-lowse, and being cast into a pond and ducked under water, lifted up her hands, and joining her two thumbs-nailes in act to kill louse above her head, seemed to call him lousy still, devised a fable, whereof in truth we daily see the express image in diverse women's obstinacy and wilfulness. And yet obstinacy is the sister of constancy, at least in vigour and steadfastness. A man must not judge that which is possible, and that which is not, according to that which is credible and incredible to our sense and understanding, as I have already said elsewhere. And it is a great fault, wherein the greater number of men do daily fall (I speak not this of Bodine) to make a difficulty in believing that of others, which themselves neither can nor would do. Every man persuades himself, that the chiefe-forme of human nature is in himself; according to her, must all others be directed. The proceedings that have no reference to hers, are false and fa●●ed. Is any thing proposed unto him of another's man's faculties or actions; The first thing he calls to the judgement of his consultation▪ is his own examples; according as it goeth in him, so goeth the world's order. Oh dangerous sottishness, and intolerable foppery! I consider some men a far-off, beyond and above myself, namely amongst those ancient ones: and though I manifestly acknowledge mine own insufficiency to follow or come near them by a thousand paces; I cease not to keep them still in view, and to judge of those wards and springs that raise them so high; the seeds whereof I somewhat perceive in myself: as likewise I do of the minds extreme baseness, which amazeth me nothing at all, and I misbelieve no more. I see the turn those give to wind up themselves, and I admire their greatness, and those starts which I perceive to be so wondrous fair, I embrace them: and if with man wrength I reach not unto them, at least my judgement doth most willingly apply itself unto them. The other example, he allegeth of things incredible, and altogether fabulous, reported by Plutarch, is, that Agesilaus was fined by the Ephories, because he had drawn tee hearts and good wills of all his fellow-cittizens ento himself alone. I know not what mark of falsehood, or show of impossibiiltie he finds in it; but so it is▪ that Plutarch speaks there of things which in all likelihood were better known to him, then to us: And as it was not strange in Geecce, to see men punished and exiled, only because they were too popular, and pleased the common people over much. Witness the Ostracism amongst the Athenians, and the Petalisme among the Siracusans. There is another accusation in the same place, which for Plutarkes' sake doth somewhat touch me, where he saith, that he hath very well and in good truth sorted the Romans with the Romans, and the Grecians amongst themselves, but not the Romans with the Grecians, witness (saith he) Demosthenes and Cicero, and Aristides, Syll● and Lysander Marcellus and Pelopidas; Pompey and Agesilaus, deeming thereby that he hath favoured the Grecians, in giving them so unequal companions. It is a just reproving of that, which is most excellent and commendable in Plutarch: Eor, in his comparisons (which is the most admirable part of his work, and wherein in mine opinion he so much pleased himself) the faithfulness and sincerity of his judgement equalleth their depth and weight. He is a Philosopher that teacheth us virtue. But let us see, whether we can warrant him from this reproach of prevarication and falsehood. That which I imagine hath given occasion or ground to this judgement is, that great and farre-spreading lustre of the Roman names, which still are tingling in our ears, and never our of our minds. We do not think, Demosthenes may equal the glory of a Consul, of a Pro●ousull and a Quaestor of this great Common wealth of Rome. But he that shall impartially consider the truth of the matter, and men in themselves, which Plutarch did chiefly aim at, and more to balance their custom, their natural dispositions and their sufficiency, than their fortune: I am of a clean opposite opinion to Bodine, and think that Cicero and old Cato are much behind or short of their parallels. For this purpose, I would rather have chosen the example of young Cato compared to Photion: for in that pair might well be found a more likely disparity for the Romans advantage. As for Marcellus, Sylla and Pompey, I see very well, how their exploits of war, be more swollen, glorious and pompous, than the Craecians, whom Plutarch compareth unto them; but the most virtuous, and fairest actions, no more in war, than elsewhere, are not always the most famous. I often see the names of some Captains smothered under the brightness of other names of lesser desert: witness Labienus, Ventidius, Telesinus and divers others. And to take him in that sense, were I to complain for the Grecians, might not I say, that Camillus is much less comparable unto Themistocles, the Gracchis to Agis and Cleomenes, and Numa to Lycurgus? But it is folly at one glance to judge of things with so many and divers faces. When Plutarch compares them, he doth not for all that equal them. Who could more eloquently, and with more conscience note their differences? Doth he compare the victories, the exploits of arms, the power of the armies conducted by Pompey and his triumphs unto those of Agesilaus? I do not believe (saith he) that Xenophon himself (were he living) though it were granted him to write his pleasure for the advantage of Agesilaus, durst ever dare to admit any comparison between them. Seemeth he to equal Lysander to Sylla? There is no comparison (saith he) neither in number of victories, nor in hazard of battles between them: for, Lysander only obtained two sea-battles, etc. This is no derogation from the Romans. If he have but simply presented them untothe Grecians, what ever disparity may be between them, he hath not in any sort wronged them. And Plutarch doth not directly counterpoise them. In some there is none perferred before others; He compareth the parts and the circumstances one after another▪ and severally judgeth of them. If therefore any would go about to convince him of favour, he should narrowly sift out some particular judgement; or in general and plain terms say, he hath miss in sorting such a Grecian to such a Roman, forasmuch as there are other more sortable and correspondent, and might better be compared, as having more reference one unto another. The three and thirtieth Chapter. The History of Spurina. PHilosophy thinketh, she hath not ill employed her means, having yielded the sovereign rule of our mind, and the authority to restrain our appetites, unto reason. Amongst which, those who judge there is none more violent, than those which love begetteth, have this for their opinion, that they hold both of body and soul; and man is wholly possessed with them: so that health itself depended of them, and physic is sometimes constrained to serve them instead of a Pandership. But chose, a man might also say, that the commixture of the body doth bring abatement and weakness unto them; because such desires are subject to satiety and capable of material remedies. Many who have endeavoured to free and exempt their minds from the continual alarumes, which this appetite did assail them with, have used incisions, yea and cut-off the moving, turbulent and unruly parts. Others have allayed the force and fervency of them by frequent applications of cold things, as snow and vinegar. The haire-cloths which our forefathers used to wear for this purpose, whereof some made shirts, and some waste-bands or girdles, to torment their reigns. A Prince told me not long since, that being very young, and waiting in the Court of King Francis the first, upon a solemn feastival day, when all the Court endeavoured to be in their best clothes, a humour possessed him to putte-on a shirt of haircloth, which he yet keepeth, and had been his fathers; but what devotion soever possessed him, he could not possibly endure until night to put it off again▪ and was sick a long time after, protesting he thought no youthly heat could be so violent, but the use of this receipt would cool and allay; of which he perhaps never assayed the strongest: For, experience showeth us, that such emotion doth often maintain itself underbase, rude and slovenly clothes: and haire-cloathes do not ever make those poor that wear them. Zenocrate's proceeded more rigorously? for, his Disciples to make trial of his continency, having conveyed that beauteous and famous courtesan Lais naked into his bed, saving the weapons of her beauty, wanton allurements, and amorous or love-procuring potions, feeling that maugre all Philosophical discourses, and strict rules, his skittish body began to mutiny, he caused those members to be burned, which had listened to that rebellion. Whereas the passions that are in the mind, as ambition, covetousness and others, trouble reason much more: for, it can have no aid but from its own means; nor are those appetites capable of satiety, but rather sharpened by enjoying, and augmented by possession. The example alone of julius Caesar may suffice to show us the disparity of these appetites, for never was man more given to amorous delights. The curious and exact care he had of his body, is an authentical witness of it, forsomuch as he used the most lascivious means that then were in use, as to have the hairs of his body smeered and perfumed all over, with an extreme and laboured curiosity; being of himself a goodly parsonage, white, of a tall and comely stature, of a cheerful and seemly countenance, his face full and round, and his eyes brown lively; if at least Suetonius may be believed: For, the statues which nowadays are to be seen of him in Rome, answer not altogether this portraiture we speak of. Besides his wives, which he changed four times, without reckoning the bies, or Amours in his youth with Nicomedes King of Bythinia, he had the Maidenhead of that so far, and highly-renowmed Queen of Egypt, Cleopatra; witness young Caesarion, whom he begot of her. He also made love unto E●no● Queen of Mauritania, and at Rome, to Posthumia, wife unto Servius Sulpitius: to Lolio, wife to ●abinius to Tertulla, of Crassus; yea unto Mutia, wife to great Pompey, which as Historians say, was the cause her Husband was divorced from her. Which thing Plutarch confesseth not to have known. And the Curious both father and son twitted Pompey in the teeth, at what time he took Caesar's Daughter to wife, that he made himself Son in law to one, who had made him Cuckold, and himself was wont to call Aegystus. Besides all this number, he entertained Servilia the sister of Cat●, and mother to Marcus Brutus, whence (as diverse hold) proceeded that great affection, he ever bare to Marcus Brutus; for his Mother bore him at such a time as it was not unlikely he might be borne of him. Thus, (as me seemeth) have I good reason to deem him a man extremely addicted to all amorous licentiousness, and of a wanton-lascivious complexion. But the other passion of ambition, wherewith he was infinitely infected, and much tainted, when he came once to withstand the same, it made him presently to give ground. And touching this point, when I call Mahomet to remembrance (I mean him that subdued Constantinople, and who brought the final extermination of the name of Grecians) I know not where these two passions are more equal balanced: equally an indefatigable lecher, and a never-tired soldier. But when in his life they seem to strive and concur one with another, the mutinous heat, doth ever gourmandize the amorous flame. And the latter, although out of natural season did never attain to a full and absolute authority, but when he perceived himself to be so aged, that he was utterly unable longer to undergo the burden of War. That which is alleged, as an example on the contrary side of Ladisla●s King of Naples, is very well worth the noting, who though he were an excellent, courageous and ambitious Captain, proposed unto himself, as the principal scope of his ambition, the execution of his sensuality, and enjoining of some rare and unmatched beauty. So was his death: Having by a continual tedious siege brought the City of Florence to so narrow a pinch, that the inhabitants were ready to yield him the victory, he yielded the same to them, upon condition they would deliver into his hands a wench of excellent beauty that was in the city, of whom he had heard great commendations; which they were enforced to grant him, and so by a private injury to warrant the public ruin of the City. She was the Daughter of a notable rare Physician, and whilst he lived chief of his profession: Who seeing himfelie engaged in so stuprous a necessity, resolved upon an haughty enterprise; Whilst all were busy adorning his daughter, and besetting her with costly jeweles, that she might the more delight and please this new Kingly lover, he also gave her an exquisitely-wrought, and sweetly-perfumed handkercher, to use in their first approaches and embracements, a thing commonly in use amongst the Women of that Country. This Handkerchief strongly empoisoned according to the cunning skill of his Art, coming to wipe both their inflamed secret parts and open pores, did so readily convey and disperse its poison, that having suddenly changed their heat into cold, they immediately deceased one in another's aims. But I will now return to Caesar. His pleasures could never make him lose one minute of an hour, nor turn one step from the occasions, that might any way further his advancement. This passion did so sovereignly oversway all others, and possessed his mind with so uncontrolled an authority, that she carried him whither she list. Truly I am grieved, when in other things I consider this man's greatness, and the wondrous parts that were in him; so great sufficiency in all manner of knowledge and learning, as there is almost no science wherein he hath not written; He was so good an Orator, that divers have preferred his eloquence before Cicero's: And himself (in mine opinion) in that faculty thought himself nothing short of him. And his two Anti-catoes', were especially written to overbalance the eloquence which Cicero had employed in his Cato. And for all other matters; was ever mind so vigilant, so active, and so patient of labour as his? And doubtless, it was also embellished with sundry rare seeds of virtue. I mean lively, natural and not countersets. He was exceeding sober, and so homely in his feeding, that Opius reporteth: how upon a time, through a certain Cook's negligence, his meat being dressed with a kind of medicinable Oil, in stead of Olive-oyle, and so brought to the board, although he found it yet he fed heartily of it, only because he would not shame his Host. Another time he caused his Baker to be whipped, because he had served him with other, than common household bread, Cato himself was wont to say of him, that he was the first sober man, had addressed himself to the ruin of his country. And whereas the same Cato called him one day drunkard, it happened in this manner, Being both together in the Senate house, where Catiline's conspiracy was much spoken of, wherein Caesar was greatly suspected to have a hand; a note was by a friend of his brought, & in very secret sort delivered him, which Cato perceiving, supposing it might be something, that the Conspirators advertised him of, instantly summoned him to show it, which Caesar to avoid a greater suspicion, refused not: It was by chance an amorous letter, which Servilia Cato's sister writ to him: Cato having readit, threw it at him, saying, hold it again thou drunkard. I say, it was rather a word of disdain and anger, than an express reproach of this vice; as often we nicke-name those that anger us, with the first nicke-names of reproaches, that come into our mouth, though merely impertinent to those with whom we fall out. Considering, that the vice wherewith Cato charged him, hath near coherency unto that, wherein he had surprised Caesar: for Venus and Bacchus (as the vulgar Proverb saith) agree well together; but with me Venus is much more blithe and game-some, being accompanied with sobriety. The examples of his mildness and clemency, towards such as had offended him, are infinite: I mean, besides those he showed during the civil wars, which (as by his own writings may plainly appear) he used to blandish and allurehis enemies, to make them fear his future domination and victory the less. But if any shall say, those examples are not of validity to witness his genuine and natural affability, we may lawfully answer, that at least they show us a wonderful confidence, and greatness of courage to have been in him. It hath often befallen him, to send whole armies back again to his enemies, after he had vanquished them, without deigning to bind them so much, as with an oath, if not to favour, at least not to bear arms against him. He hath three or four times taken some of Pompey's chief Captains prisoners, and as often set them at liberty again. Pompey declared all such as would not follow and accompany him in his wars, to be his enemies; and he caused those to be proclaimed as friends, who either would not stir at all, or not effectually arm themselves against him. To such of his Captains as fled from him, to procure other conditions, he sent them their weapons, their horses and all other furniture. The Cities he had taken by main force, he freed to follow what faction they would, giving them no other garrison, than the memory of his clemency and mildness. In the day of his great battle of Pharsalia, he expressly inhibited, that unless they were driven to unavoidable extremity, no man should lay hands upon any Roman citizen. In my judgement these are very hazardous parts, and it is no wonder, if in the civil wars or tumultuous broils, we have now on foot, those that fight for the ancient laws and state of their country, as he did, do not follow and imitate the example. They are extraordinary means, and which only belongs to Caesar's fortune, and to his admirable foresight, successfully to direct, and happily to conduct them. When I consider the incomparable greatness and unvaluable worth of his mind, I excuse Victory, in that she could not well give him over, in this most unjust and unnatural cause. But to return to his clemency; we have diverse genuine and lively examples, even in the time of his al-swaying government, when all things were reduced into his hands, and he needed no longer to dissemble. Caius Memmius, had written certain detracting and railing orations against him, which he at full and most sharply had answered, nevertheless he shortly after helped to make him Consul. Caius Calvus, who had composed diverse most injurious Epigrams against him having employed sundry of his friends to be reconciled to him again, Caesar descended to write first unto him. And our good Catullus, who under the name of Mamurra had so rudely and bitterly railed against him, at last coming to excuse himself, Caesar that very night made him to sup at his own table. Having been advertised how some were overlavish in railing against him, all he did was but in a public oration to declare how he was advertised of it. His enemies, he feared less than he hated them. Certain conspiracies and conventicles were made against his life, which being discovered unto him, he was contented by an edict to publish, how he was thoroughly informed of them, and never prosecuted the Authors. Touching the respect he ever bare unto his friends; Caius Opius travelling with him, and falling very sick, having but one chamber he resigned the same unto him, and himself was concented to lie all night abroad and upon the bare ground. Concerning his justice, he caused a servant of his whom he exceedingly loved, to be executed, for somuch as he had lain with the wife of a Roman Knight, although no man sued or complained of him. Never was man, that showed more moderation in his victory, or more resolution in his adverse fortune. But all these noble inclinations, rich gifts, worthy qualities, were altered smothered and eclipsed by this furious passion of ambition; by which he suffered himself to be so far mislead, that it may be well affirmed, she only ruled the Stern of all his actions. Of a liberal man, she made him a common thee●e, that so he might the better supply his profusion and prodigality; and made him utter that vile and most injurious speech; that if the wickedest and most pernicious men of the world, had for his service and furtherance been faithful unto him, he would to the utmost of his power have cherished and preferred them, as well as if they had been the honestest: It so besotted, and as it were made him drunk with so extreme vanity, that in the presence of all his fellow citizens he durst vaunt himself, to have made that great and farre-spread Roman Commonwealth, a shapeless and bodiless name; and pronounce, that his Sentences or Answers should thence forward serve as Laws: And sitting, to receive the whole body of the Senate coming toward him: and suffer himself to be adored: and in his presence divine honours to be done him. To conclude, this only vice (in mine opinion) lost, and overthrew in him the fairest natural and richest in genuitie that ever was; and hath made his memory abominable to all honest minds, insomuch as by the ruin of his country, and subversion of the mightiest State and most flourishing Commonwealth, that ever the world shall see, he went about to procure his glory. A man might contrariwise find divers examples of great persons, whom pleasure hath made to forget the conduct of their own affairs, as Marcus Antonius, and others: but where love and ambition should be in one equal balance. and with like forces mate one another, I will never doubt, but Caesar would gain the prize and goal of the victorle. But to come into my path again. It is much, by discourse of reason, to bridle our appetites, or by violence to force our members, to contain themselves within the bounds of duty. But to whip us for the interest of our neighbours, not only to shake off this sweet pleasing passion, which tickleth us with selfe-joying pleasure, we apprehend and feel to see ourselves grateful to others, and of all men beloved and sued unto: but also to hate and scorn those graces, which of it are the cause; and to condemn our beauty, because some others will be set on sire with it, I have seen few examples like to this. Spurina a young Gentleman of Thuscanie, Qualis gemma micat flavum quae dividit aurum, Virg Ae●●. 10. 134. Aut collo decus aut capiti, vel quale per artem, Inclusum buxo aut Ericia terebintho, Lucet ebur. As when a precious stone clear rays doth spread. Set in Pure gold, adorning neck or head: Or as fair I v'ry shines in box enclosed, Or workmanly with Mountain gum disposed. being endowed with so alluringly-excessive and singular beauty, that the chastest eyes could not possibly gainstand or continently resist the sparkling glances thereof; not contented to leave so great a flame succourless, or burning fever remediless, which he in all persons, and every where enkindled, entered into so furious despite against himself, and those rich gifts, nature had so prodigally conferred upon him (as if they must bear the blame of others faults) that with gashes, and scars, he wittingly mangled, & voluntarily cutthat perfect, proportion and absolute feature, which nature had so curiously observed in his unmatched face; whereof to speak my opinion, such out rages are enemies to my rules. I rather admire, then honour such actions. His intent was commendable, and his purpose conscientious, but in my seeming somewhat wanting of wisdom. What? if his deformity or ugliness was afterward an instrument to induce others to fall into the sin of contempt and vice of hatred, or fault of envy for the glory of so rare commendation; or of slander, interpreting his humour to be a frantic ambition; Is there any form, whence vice (if so it please) may not wrest an occasion, in some manner to exercise itself? It had been more just, and therewithal more glorious, of so rare gifts of God, to have made a subject of exemplar virtue and orderly method. Those which sequester themselves from public offices, and from this infinite number of thorny and so many-faced rules, which in civil life, bind a man of exact honesty and exquisite integrity: in mine opinion reap a goodly commodity, what peculiar sharpness soever they enjoin themselves. It is a kind of death, to avoid the pain of well-doing, or trouble of well-living. They may have another prize, but the prize of uneasines me thinks they never had. Nor that in difficulty, there be any thing that is amid the waves of the worldly multitude, beyond keeping himself upright and untainted, answering loyally and truly discharging all members and several parts of his charge. It is happily more easy for one, in honest sort to neglect and pass over all the sex, then duly and wholly to maintain himself in his wife's company. And a man may more incuriously fall into poverty, then into plenteousness; being justly dispensed. Custom, according to reason, doth lead to more sharpness than abstinence hath. Moderation is a virtue much more toilsome, than sufferance. The chaste and well living of young Scipio, hath a thousand several fashions; that of Diogenes but one. This doth by so much more exceed all ordinary lives in innocency and unspottedness, as those which are most exquisite and accomplished, exceed in profit and outgo it in force. The four and thirtieth Chapter. Observations concerning the means to war after the manner of julius Caesar. IT is reported of diverse chief Generals in war, that they have particularly affected some peculiar book or other: as Alexander the great highly esteemed Homer; Scipio Affrieanus, Xenophon: Marcus Brutus, Polybius; Charles the fifth, Philip de Comines: And it is lately averred, that in some places, and with some men, Machiavelli is much accounted of: But our late Marshal Strozzi, who had made especial choice to love Caesar; without doubt, I think of all other chose best: for truly he ought to be the breviary of all true Soldiers, as being the absolute and perfect chief pattern of Military profession And God he knows with what grace, and with what decorum, he hath embellished this rich subject, with so pure a kind of speech, so pleasing and so absolutely perfect, that to my taste, there are no writing in the world, which in this subject may be compared to his. I will here register certain particular and rare parts concerning his manner of war, which yet remain in my memory. His Army being some what affrighted, upon the report that ran of the great forces, which king juba brought against him, instead of abating the opinion his soldiers had conceived of it, and to diminish the means or forces of his enemy, having caused them to be assembled altogether, thereby to assure and encourage them, he took a clean contrary course, to that which in like cases we are accustomed to do: for he bade them trouble themselves no more to find out the number of the forces, which his enemies brought against him, for himself had already true knowledge & certain intelligence of them: and told them a number far exceeding both the truth and report of them: following what Cyrus commandeth in Xenophon. For a smuch as the deceit is not of like interest, for a man to find his enemies in effect weaker than he hoped, than stronger indeed, having once conceived an opinion of their weakness. He enured all his Soldiers simply to obey, without controling, gainsaying, or speaking of their captains designs, which he never communicated unto them, but upon the last point of execution: and was pleased, if by chance they had any inkling of them, so to deceive them, presently to change his opinion: And having prefixed a place to quarter-in at night, he hath often been seen to march further, and lengthen his journey, namely if the weather were foul, or if it reigned. The Swizzers in the beginning of his wars in Gaul, having sent toward him to give them free passage through the Roman countries, and he being resolved by force to impeach them, did notwithstanding show them very good looks, and took, certain days respite to give them an answer, during which time he might have leisure to assemble his Army together. These poor people knew not how well he could husband time: For he often repeated, that the skill to embrace occasisons in the nick, is the chiefest part of an absolute Captain: And truly the diligence he used in all his exploits, is incredible; and the like was never heard of. If he were not over conscientious in that under colour of some treaty, parley or accord, to take any advantage of his enemies: he was as little scrupulous, in that he required no other virtue in his Soldiers but valour; and except mutiny and disobedience, he punished not grealy other vices. After his victories, he often gave them the reins to all licentiousness, for a while dispensing them from all rules of military discipline; saying moreover his soldiers were so well instructed, that though they were in their gayest clothes, pranked up, musked and perfumed, they would notwithstanding run furiously to any combat. And in truth he loved to see them richly armed, and made them wear gilded, graven and silvered armours, that their care to keep them clean and bright, might make them more fierce, and ready to defend themselves. Speaking to them, he ever called them by the name of Fellow-soldiers; a name used at this day by some Captains; which his successor Augustus afterward reform, esteeming he had done it for the necessity of his affairs, and to flatter the hearts of those which followed him but voluntarily; — Rheni mihi Caesar in undis. Lucan. l. 5. 289. Dux erat, hic socius facinus quos inquinat, aequat. When Caesar past the Rhine he was my General, My Fellow here: sin, whom it stains, makes fellowes-al. but that this custom was over-lowelie for the dignity of an Emperor, and chiere General of an Army, and brought up the fashion again to call them only Soldiers. To this courtesy, Caesar did notwithstanding intermix a great severity, to suppress & keep them humble. His ninth Legion having mutined near unto Placentia, he presently cassiered the same with great ignominy unto it, notwithstanding that Pompey were yet on foot and strong; and would not receive it into favour, but with humble petitions and entreaty. He did more appease them by authority and audacity, then by mildness and affability. Where he speaketh of his passage over the river of Rhine, towards Germany, he saith, that deeming it unworthy the honour of the Roman people, his Army should pass over in ships, he caused a bridge to be built, that so it might pass over drie-foote. Their he erected that admirable bridge, whereof he so particularly describeth the frame: For he never more willingly dilates himself in describing any of his exploits, then where he endeavoureth to represent unto us the subtility of his inventions, in such kinds of manual works. I have also noted this in his book, that he much accounteth of his exhortations he made to his Sculdiers before any fight: for where he would show to have been either surprised or urged, he ever allegeth this, that he had so much leisure as to make an oration to his Soldiers or Army: Before that great battle against those of Tournay; Caesar (saith he) having disposed of the rest, ran suddenly whither fortune carried him, to exhort his men: and meeting with the tenth Legion he had not leisure to say any thing else unto them, but that they should remember their former wont virtue, they should nothing be daunted, they should stoutly resist the encounter of their adversaries; and forasmuch as the enemy was come within an arrow-shoote unto him, he gave the signal of the battle; and suddenly going elsewhere, to encourage others, he found them already together by the ears; See here what himself saith of it in that place. Verily his tongue hath indivers places much bestead, and done him notable service, and even whilst he lived, his military eloquence was so highly regarded, that many of his Army were seen to copy and keep his orations; by which means diverse volumes were filled with them, and continued many ages after his death, His speech had particular graces, so that his familiar friends, and namely Augustus, hearing that rehearsed, which had been collected of his, knew by the Phrases and words, what was his or not. The first time that with any public charge he issued out of Rome, he came in eight days to the river of Rhone, having ever one or two Secretaries before him, who continually writ what he indited, and one behind him that carried his sword. And surely, if one did nothing but run up and down, he could very hardly attain to that promptitude, wherewith ever being victorious, having left Gaul, and following Pompey to Brundisium, in eighteen days he sabdued all Italy; returned from Brundisium to Rome, and thence went even to the hart of Spain, where he passed many extreme difficulties, in the wars between Afranius and Petreius, and at the long siege of Marseille: from whence he returned into Macedon, overthrew the Roman Army at Pharsalia; thence pursuing Pompey he passed into Egypt, which he subdued; from Egypt he came unto Syria, and into the country of Pontus, where he fought with Pharnaces; thence into Africa, where he defeated Scipio and juba, and thence through Italy he returned into Spain, where he overthrew Pompey's children jucau. l. 4 505. Virg. Ae●. li. 12 684. O cior & caeli flammis & tigride foeta. 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 Exult átque solo, silvas, armenta, virósque, Involvens secum. Swifter than breed-yong Tiger, or heavens flash, And as from mountains top a headlong stone Rent-off by wind, or by storms troublous dash Washt-off, or loosed by age of years are gone, Crosse-carried with great force that hill-like mass Bounds on the earth, and rowles with it in one. Woods, herds, and men, and all that neereit was. Speaking of the siege of Avaricum, he saith, that it was his custom, both day and night, ever to be near and about such workmen, as he had set a work. In all enterprises of consequence he was ever the first skout-man, or survayer of any place: and his Army never approached place, which he had not viewed or survayed himself. And if we may believe Suetonius, at what time he attempted to pass over into England, he was the first man that sounded the passage. He was wont to say, that he esteemed that victory much more, which was conducted by advice, and managed by counsel, then by main strength and force. In the war against Petreius and Afranius▪ Fortune presenting an apparent occasion of advantage unto him, he saith, that he refused it, hoping with a little more time, but with less hazard, to see the overthrow of his enemy. Where he also played a notable part, to command all his Army to swim over a river, without any necessity, Lucan. l. 4. 151. — rapuitque ruens in praeli● miles, Quod fugiens timtisset iter, mox udareceptis Memb●● fovent armis, gelidósque à gurgite cursu Restituunt artus. The Soldier rids that way in haste to fight, Which yet he would have feared in haste of flight; His limbs with water wet and cold before, With arms he covers, running doth restore. I find him somewhat more wary and considerate in his enterprises, than Alexander; for the latter seemeth to seek out, and by main force to run into dangers, as an impetuous or raging torrent, which without heed, discretion, or choice, shocks and checkmates what ●r● it meeteth withal. Sic tauri formis volvitur Aufidus, Her. car. lib. 4. ●d. 14 25. Qui Regna Dauni perfluit Appuli Dum saevit, horrendámque cultis Diluviem meditatur agris. So Bull-faced Aufidus still rolling grows, Which through Apulias' ancient kingdom flows, When he doth rage in threatening meditation To bring on fair fields fearful inundation. And to say truth, his hap was to be most employed in the spring-time, and first heat of his age: whereas Caesar was well strucken in years, when he began to follow arms. Alexander was of a more choleric, sanguine and violent constitution, which humour he stirred up with wine, whereof Caesar was very abstinent. But where occasions of necessity were offered, and where the subject required it, there was never man that so little regarded his person. As for me, me seemeth I read indivers of his exploits, a certain resolution rather to lose himself, than to abide the brunt or shame to be overthrown. In that great battle, which he fought against those of Turnay, seeing the vanguard of his Army somewhat inclining to rout, even as he was, without shield or target, he ran headlong to the front of his enemies: Which many other times happened unto him. Hearing once how his men were besieged, he passed disguise through the midst and thickest of his enemy's camp, so to encourage and awe them with his presence. Having crossed the way to Dyrrhachium, with very few forces, and perceiving the rest of his Army (the Conduct whereof he had left unto Antonius,) to be somewhat slow in coming, he undertook all alone, to repass the Sea, notwithstanding a violent and raging Tempest; and secretly stole himself away to fetch the rest of his forces: All the havens on that side, yea and all the Sea being possessed by Pompey, And concerning the enterprises he underwent with armed hand, there are diverse of them, which in respect of the hazard, exceed all discourse of military reason: for, with how weak means undertook he to subdue the Kingdom of Egypt, and afterward to front the forces of Scipio and juta, which were ten parts greater than his? Me thinks such men have had a kind of more than human confidence of their fortune: And himself was wont to say, that Haughty enterprises were to be executed and not consulted upon. After the battle of Pharsalia, having sent his Army before into Asia, and himself with only one ship passing through the strait of Hellespont, he met on the Seas with Lucius Cassius, attended on with ten tall ships of War; he was so far from shunning him, that he durst not only stay for him but with all haste make toward and summon him, to yield himself to his mercy; which he did. Having undertaken that furious siege of Alexia, wherein were fourscore thousand men of Defence, and all France up in arms, with a resolution to run upon him and raise the siege, and having an Arm●e on foot of one hundred and nine thousand horse, and two hundred forty thousand foot; What a fond hardy and outrageous confidence was it in him, that he would never give over his attempt and resolve in two so great difficulties together? Which he notwithstanding under went: And after he had obtained so notable a battle of those which were without, he soon reduced those that were besieged in the Town to his mercy. The very like happened to Lucullus at the siege of Tigranocerta, against King Tigranes but with an unlike condition, seeing his enemy's demissenesse, with whom Lucullus was to deal. I will here note two rare and extraordinary events, touching the siege of Alexia; the one, that the French men being all assembled together with a purpose to meet with Caesar, having diligently survaied and exactly numbered all their forces, resolved in their counsel, to cutte-off a great part of this huge multitude for fear they might breed a confusion. This example is new, to fear to be over many; yet if it be well taken, it is very likely, that The body of an Army ought to have a well proportioned greatness, and ordered to indifferent bounds. Whether it be for the difficulty to feed the same, or to lead it in order and keep it in awe. And we may easily verify by examples, that These numerous and infinite Armies have seldom brought any not able thing to pass: According to Cyrus his saying in Xenophon. It is not the multitude of men, but the number of good men that causeth an advantage: The rest rather breeding confusion and trouble, than help or avail. And Bajazeth took the chiefest foundation of his resolution, against the advice of all his Captains, to join fight with Tamburlaine, only because the innumerable number of men, which his enemy brought into the field, gave him an assured hope of rout and confusion. Scanderbag, a sufficient and most expert judge in such a case, was wont to say, that ten or twelve thousand trusty and resolute fight men, aught to suffice any sufficient Chieftain of War, to warrant his reputation in any kind of military exploit. The other point, which seemeth to be repugnant both unto custom and reason of War, is, that Vercingentorix, who was appointed chief General of all the forces of the revolted Gauls, undertook to immure and shut himself into Alexia. For, He that hath the commandment of a whole Country. ought never to engage himself, except in cases of extremity, and where all his rest and last refuge goeth on it, and hath no other hope lest him, but the defence of such a place. Otherwise he ought to keep himself free, that so he may have means to provide in all parts of his Government. But to return to Caesar, he became in time somewhat more slow, heedy, and considerate, as witnesseth his familiar friend Opius; deeming, he should not so easily hazard the honour of so many Victories which one only disaster, or mis-encounter, might make him lose. It is that the Italians are wont to say, when they will or blame or reproach any man with this over-daring, or rash fond-hardinesle, which is often seen in young men, calling them, Bisognosid honore, as much to say as needy of honour: And that being yet hungry, greedy and void of reputation, they have reason to seek after it, whatsoever it may cost them; Which they should never do, that have already acquired the same. There may be some just moderation in this desire of glory, and some satiety in this appetite, as well as in others; Divers do so practise it. He was far from that religion of the ancient Romans, who in their Wars would never prevail but with mere and genuine virtue: But rather joined more conscience unto it, than nowadays we should do; And would never allow of all means, were he never so certain to get the victory. In his Wars against Ariovistus, whilst he was in Parley with him, some tumult or insurrection happened between the two armies, which began by the fault or negligence of some of Ariovistus horsemen. In which hurlieburlie Caesar found himself to have a great advantage over his enemies. which notwithstanding he would not embrace, for fear he might be taxed or suspected to have proceeded falsely, or consented to any treachery. At what time soever he went to fight, he was accustomed to wear a very rich garment, and of a sheen and garish colour, that so he might the better be marked. When his Soldiers were nearest unto their enemies, he restrained and kept them very short. When the ancient Grecians would accuse or tax any man of extreme insufficiency, they used this common Proverb; That he could neither read nor swim: And himself was of this opinion, that the art of swimming was most necessary and beneficial in War, and a Soldier might reap diverse commodities by it. If he were in haste, and to make speed, he would ordinarily swim over all the Rivers he met withal: and loved greatly to travel on foot, as Alexander the Great was wont. In Egypt being on a time forced (to save himself) to leap into a little Whirry or Boat, and so many of his people following him, that he was in danger to sink, he rather chose to fling himself into the Sea, which he did; and swimming came into his fleet, that was more than two hundred paces from him, holding his writing-Tables in his left hand out of the Water, and with his teeth drawing his Coat of Arms after him, that his enemies might not enjoy it: and this did he being well strucken in years. No General of War had ever so much credit with his Soldiers. In the beginning of his civil wars, his Centeniers offered him every one, at their own charges to pay and find him a man at Arms, and his foot▪ men to serve him for nothing and those that were best able, to defray the poor and needy. Our late Admiral of France Lord chastilion, in our late civil wars showed such an example: For, the Frenchmen of his army, at their proper cost and charges helped to pay such strangers as followed him. Few examples of so loving and earnest affection may be found amongst those that follow the old manner of war, and strictly hold themselves under the ancient policy of their laws. Passion hath more sway over us, than reason: Yet hath it chanced in the wars against Hannibal, that imitating the example of the Roman People's liberality in the City, the Soldiers and Captains refused their pay, and in Marcellus his camp, those were called mercenary, that took any pay. Having had some defeat near unto Dyrrachium, his Soldiers came voluntarily before him, and offered themselves to be punished; so that he was more troubled to comfort, then to chide them. One only of his Cohortes (whereof ten went to a Legion) held fight above four hours with four of Pompey's whole Legions, until it was well-nigh all defeated with the multitude and force of arrows: And in his trenches were afterward found one hundred and thirty thousand shafts. A Soldier of his, named Scava, who commanded one of the entrances, did so invincibly defend and keep himself, that he had one of his eyes thrust out, and one shoulder and one thigh thrust through, and his shield flawed and pierced in two hundred and thirty several places. It hath befallen to many of his Soldiers, being taken prisoners, to choose rather to die then promise to follow any other faction, or receive any other entertainment. Granius Petronius taken by Scipio in Africa: After Scipio had caused all his fellows to be put to death, sent him word that he gave him his life, forsomuch as he was a man of rank and a Quaestor: Petronius answered, that Caesar's Soldiers were wont to give life to others, and not accept it themselves; And therewithal with his own hands killed himself. Infinite examples there are of their fidelity. That part, which they acted, who were besieged in Salona, a City which took partwith Caesar against Pompey, must not be forgotten, by reason of a rare accident that there happened. Marcus Octavius, having long time beleaguered the Town, they within were reduced to such extremity and pinching necessity of all things, that to supply the great want they had of men, most of them being already or hurt or dead; they had set all their slaves at liberty, and for the behoof of their engines, were compelled to cut-off all their women's hairs, to make ropes with them; besides a wonderful lack of victuals resolving notwithstanding never to yield themselves: After they had a long time lingered the siege, and that Octavius was thereby become more careless, and less heeding or attentive to his enterprise; they one day about high noon (having first ranged their wives and children upon the walls, to set the better face upon the matter) rushed out in such a fury upon the besiegers, that having put to rout and defeated the first, the second, and third corpse de guard; then the fourth and the rest; and having forced them to quit their trenches, chased them even to their ships: and Octavius with much ado saved himself in Dyrrachium, where Pompey was. I remember not at this time, to have read of any other example, where the beleaguered do in gross beat the beleagrers, and get the mastery and possession of the field; nor that a sally hath drawn a mere and absolute victory of a battle into consequence The five and thirtieth Chapter. Of three good women. THey are not to be had be dozen, as each one knows, namely in rights and duties of marriage; For, it is a bargain full of so many thorny circumstances, that it is hard the will of a woman should long keep herself whole and perfect therein. And although men have somewhat a better condition in the same, yet have they much to do. The touchstone and perfect trial of a good marriage, respects the time that the society continueth; whether it have constantly been mild loyal and commodious. In our age, they more commonly reserve to install their good offices, and set forth the vehemence of their affections toward their lost husbands: And then seek they at least to yield some testimony of their good wil Oh late testimony & out of season, whereby they rather show, they never love them but when they are dead. Our life is full of combustion and scolding, but our disease full of love and of courtesy. As fathers conceal affection toward their children; so they to maintain an honest respect, cloak their love toward their husbands. This mystery answereth not my taste. They may long enough scratch and dishevell themselves; let me inquire of a chambermaid or of a secretary, how they were, how they did, and how they have lived together: I can never forget this good saying, jactantius maerent, quae minus dolent, They keep a ●owling with most ostentation, who are less sorrowful at heart. Their lowering and puling is hateful to the living, and vain to the dead. We shall easily dispense with them to laugh at us when we are dead, upon condition they smile upon us while we live. Is not this the way to revive a man with spite; that he who hath spitten in my face when I was living, shall come and claw my feet when I am dead? If there be any honour for a woman to weep for her husband, it belongs to her that hath smiled upon him when she had him. Such as have wept when they lived, let them laugh when they are dead, as well outwardly as inwardly. Moreover, regard not those blubbered eyes, nor that pittie-mooving voice; but view that demeanour, that colour and cheerful good plight of those cheeks, under their great veils; thence it is she speaks plain French. There are few whose health doth not daily grow better and better; a quality that cannot lie. This ceremonious countenance looketh not so much backward, as forward: It is rather a purchase then a payment. In mine infancy, an honest and most fair Lady (who yet liveth, the widow of a Prince) had somewhat more of I wot not what in her attires, than the laws of widowehood would well permit. To such as blamed her for it: ●t is (said she) because I intent no more new acquaintances, and have no mind at all to marry again. Because I will not altogether dissent from out custom, I have here made choice of three women, who have also employed the utmost endeavour of their goodness and affection, about their husbands deaths. Yet are they examples somewhat different and so urging that they hardly draw life into consequence. Pliny the younger, had dwelling near unto a house of his in Italy a neighbour wonderfully tormented with certain ulcers, which much troubled him in his secret parts. His wife perceiving him to droop and languish away, entreated him she might leisurely search and nearly view the quality of his disease, and she would more freely than any other tell him what he was to hope for: Which having obtained, and curiously considered the same, she found it impossible ever to be cured, and all he might expect was but to lead a long, dolorous, and languishing life; and therefore for his more safety and sovereign remedy, persuaded him to kill himself. And finding him somewhat nice and backward to effect so rude an enterprise: Think not my dear friend (quoth she) but that the sorrows and griefs, I see thee feel, touch me as near and more, if more may be, as they self, and that to be rid of them, I will apply the same remedy to myself, which I prescribe to thee. I will accompany thee in thy cure, as I have done in thy sickness: remove all fear, and assure they self, we shall have pleasure in this passage, which shall deliver us from all torments, for we will happily go together: That said, and having cheered up her husband's courage she determined they should both headlong throw themselves into the sea from out a window of their house, that over looked the same: and to maintain this loyal, vehement and never to be severed affection to the end, wherewith she had during his life embraced him, she would also have him die in her arms; and fearing they might fail her, and through the fall, or fear or apprehension her holdfast might be loosed, she caused herself to be fast bound unto him by the middle: And thus for the ease of her husband's life she was contented to forego her own. She was but of mean place and low fortune: and amid such condition of people, it is not so strange to see some parts of rare virtue and exemplare goodness. — extremaper illos justitia excedens terris vestigia fecit. Virg. Georg. Il. 2. 473. justice departing from the earth did take Of them her leave, through them last passage make. The other two are noble and rich; where examples of virtue are rarely lodged. Arria wife unto Cecinna Paetus, a man that had been consul was mother of another Arria, wife to Thrasea Paetus; whose virtue was so highly renowned during the time of Nero; and by mean of his sonne-in-lawe, grandmother to Fannia: For, the resemblance of these men's and women's names and fortunes hath made divers to mistake them. This first Arria, her husband Cecinna Paetus, having been taken prisoner by the Soldiers of Claudius the Emperor, after the overthrow of Scribonianus, whose faction he had followed, entreated those who led him prisoner to Rome▪ to take her into their ship, where for the service of her husband she should be of the less charge and incommodity to them, than a number of other persons, which they must necessarily have, and that she alone might supply and stead him in his chamber, in his kitchen and all other offices; which they utterly refused, and so hoist sails, but she leaping into a Fisher's boat, that she immediately hired, followed him aloof from the further shore of Sclavonia. Being come to Rome, one day, in the emperors presence, junia the widow of Scribonianus, by reason of the nearness and society of their fortunes, familiarly accosted her, but she rudely, with these words, thrust her away. What (quoth she) shall I speak to thee, or shall I listen what thou sayest: Thou, in whose lap Scribonianus thy husband was slain, and thou yet livest? and thou breathest? These words with diverse other signs, made her kinsfolks and friends perceive, that she purposed to make herself away, as impatient to a abide her husband's fortune. And Thrasea her son in law, taking hold of her speeches, beseeching her that she would not so unheedily spoil herself, he thus bespoke her. What? If I were in Cecinnaes' Fortune or the like, would you have my wife your daughter to do so? What else? make you a question of it? (answered she) Yes marry would I, had she lived so long and in so good-agreeing sort with thee, as I have done with my husband. These and suchlike answers, increased the care they had of her; and made them more heedfully to watch, and nearly to look unto her. One day, after she had uttered these words to her keepers; you may look long enough to me, well may you make me die worse but you shall never be able to keep me from dying: and therewith furiously flinging herself out of a chair (wherein she fate) with all the strength she had, she fiercely ran her head against the next wall; with which blow having sore hurt herself, and falling into a dead swoon, after they had with much ado brought her to herself again: Did I not tell you (quoth she) that if you kept me from an easy death, I would choose another, how hard and difficult soever? The end of so admirable a virtue was this. Her husband Paetus wanting the courage to do himself to death, unto which the Emperor's cruelty reserved him; one day, having first employed discourses and exhortations, befitting the counsel she gave him to make himself away, she took a Dagger that her husband wore, and holding it outright in her hand, for the period of her exhortation: Do thus Paetus said she) and at that instant, stabbing herself mortally to the heart, and presently pulling the Dagger out again, she reached the same unto her husband, and so yielded up the ghost, uttering this noble, generous and immortal speech▪ Paete non dolet, she had not the leisure to pronounce other than these three words, in substance material and worthy herself, Hold Paetus, it hath done me no hurt. Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Paeto. Ma●t. li. 1. epig. 14. 1. Quem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis: Si qua fides, vulnus quod feci, non dolet, inquit. Sed quod tu facies, id mihi Paete dolet. chaste Arria when she gave her Paetus that sharp sword, Which from her bowels she had drawn forth bleeding new The wound I gave and have, if you will trust my word, grieves not, said she, but that which mill be made by you. It is much more lively in his own natural, and of a richer Sense; for both her husband's wound and death, and her own hurts, she was so far from grieving to have been the counsellor and motive of them, that she rejoiced to have performed so haughty and courageous an act, only for the behoof of her dear husband, and at the last gasp of her life, she only regarded him; and to remove all fear from him, to follow her in death, which Paetus beholding, he immediately wounded himself with the same dagger, ashamed (as I suppose) to have had need of so dear an instruction, and precious a teaching. Pompea Paulina, an high and noble-borne young Roman Lady, had wedded Seneca, being very aged. Nero (his fair disciple) having sent his Satellites or officers toward him, to denounce the decree of his death to him: which in those days was done after this manner. When the Roman Emperors had condemned any man of quality to death, they were wont to send their officers unto him, to choose what death he pleased, and to take it within such and such a time, which according to the temper of their choler, they prescribed unto him, sometimes shorter, and sometimes longer, giving him that time to dispose of his affairs, which also by reason of some short warning they diverse times took from him: And if the condemned party seemed in any sort to strive against their will, they would often send men of purpose to execute him, either cutting the urias of his arms and legs, or compelling him to take and swallow poison. But men of honour stayed not that enforcement, but to that effect used their own Physicians or Surgeons. Seneca, with a reposed and undaunted countenance listened attentively to their charge, and presently demanded for paper and ink to make his last will and testament, which the Captain refusing him, he turned toward his friends, and thus bespoke them. S●●h (my loving friends) I cannot bequeath you any other thing in remembrance or acknowledgement of what I owe you, I leave you at least the richest and best portion I have, that is the image of my manners and my life, which I beseech you to keep in memory; which doing, you may acquire the glory and purchase the name of truly sincere and absolutely-true friends And therewithal som●●mes appeasing the sharpness of the sorrow he saw them endure for his sake, with mild and gentle speeches, sometimes raising his voice to chide th●m; Where are (said he) those memorable precepts of Philosophy? What is become of those provisions, which for so many years together we have laid up, against the brunts and accidents of Fortune? Was Nero●s innated crumly unknown unto us? What might we expect or hope-for at his hands who hath murdered his Mother and massacred his Brother, but that he would also do his Tutor and Governor to death that hath fostered and brought him up? Having uttered these words to all the bystanders, he turned him to his wife, as she was ready to sink down, and with the burden of her grief to faint in heart and▪ strength; he colled and embraced her abou● the neck, and heartily entreated her, for the love of him, somewhat more patiently to bear this accident; and that his hour was come, wherein he must sh●w no longer by discourse and disputation, but in earnest effect, declare the fruit he had reaped by his study; and that undoubtedly he embraced death, not only without grief, but with exceeding joy? Wherefore my deere-deere heart, do not dishonour it by thy tears, l●st thou seem to love thyself more than my reputation. Assuage thy sorrows, and comfort thyself in the knowledge thou hast had of me and of my actions; leading the rest of thy life by the honest occupations to which thou art addicted. To whom Paulina, having somewhat roused her drooping spirits, and by▪ a thrice-noble affection awakened the magnanimity of her high-setled courage, answered thus: No Seneca, think not that in this necessity I will leave you with out my company. I would not have you imagine that the virtuous examples of your life have not also taught me to die: And when shall I be able to do it or better, or more honestly, or more to mine own liking, then with yourself? And be resolved I will go with you, and be partaker of your fortune. Seneca taking so generous a resolve, and glorious a determination of his wife in good part▪ and to free himself from the fear he had to leave her after his death, to his enemy's mercy and cruelty: Oh my dear Paulina,! I had (quoth he) persuaded thee what I thought was convenient, to lead thy life more happily, and dost thou then rather choose the honour of a glorious death? Assuredly I will not envy thee: Be the constancy and resolution answerable to our common end; but be the beauty and glory greater on thy side. That said, the vei●es of both their a●mes were cut, to the end they might bleed to death; but because Senecaes' were somewhat shrunken up through age and abstinence, and his blood could have no speedy course, he commanded the veins of his thighs to be lanced: And fearing lest the torments he felt, might in some sort entender his wife's heart; as also to deliver himself from the affliction, which greatly yearned him to see her in so piteous plight: after he had most lovingly taken leave of her, he besought her to be pleased she might be carried into the next chamber, which was accordingly performed. But all those incisions being unable to make him die, he willed Statius Annous his Physician to give him some poisoned potion, which wrought but small effect in him, for through the weakness and coldness of his members, it could not come unto his heart. And therefore they caused a warm bath to be prepared, wherein they laid him▪ than perceiving his end to approach, so long as he had breath, he continued his excellent discourses, concerning the subject of the estate, wherein he found himself, which his Secretaries, so long as they could hear his voice, collected very diligently, whose last words continued long time after in high esteem and honour amongst the better sort of men, as Oracles; but they were afterward lost, and great pity it is they never came unto our hands. But when he once began to feel the last pangs of death, taking some of the water, wherein he lay bathing, all bloody, he therewith washed his head, saying, I vow this water unto jupiter the▪ Deliver●r. Nero being advertised of all this, fearing lest P●ulinaes death (who was one of the best allied Ladies in Rome, and to whom he bore no particular grudge) might cause him some reproach, sent in all post haste to have her incisions closed up again, and if possibly it could be, to save her life; which her servants by unwriting unto her, performed, she being more than half dead and void of any sense. And that afterward, contrary to her intent, she lived, it was very honourable, and as befitted her virtue, showing by the pale ●ew and wan colour of her face, how much of her life she had wasted by her incisions. Lo here my three true Stories, which in my conceive are as pleasant and as tragical, as any we devise at our pleasures, to please the vulgar sort with all: and I wonder, that those who invent so many fabulous tales, do not rather make choice of infinite excellent, and acquaint Stories, that are found in Books, wherein they should have less trouble to write them, and might doubtless prove more pleasing to the hearer, and profitable to the Reader. And whosoever would undertake to frame a complete and well-joynted body of them, need neither employ nor add any thing of his own unto it except the ligaments, as the soldering of another metal, and by this means might compact sundry events of all kinds, disposing and diversifying them, according as the beauty and lustre of the work should require: And very near, as Ovid hath sown and contrived his Metamorphosis, with that strange number of diverse fables. In the last couple, this is also worthy consideration, that Paulina offereth willingly to leave her life for her husband's sake, & that her husband had also other times quit death for the love of her. There is no great counterpoyze in this exchange for us: but according to his Sto●ke humour, I suppose he persuaded himself to have done as much for her prolonging his life for her avail, as if he had died for her. In one of his letters, he writeth to Lucilius, after he hath given him to understand how an ague having surprised him in Rome▪ contrary to his wife's opinion, who would needs have stayed him, he suddenly took his Coach, to go unto a house of his into the Country; and how he told her that the ague he had, was no bodily fever, but of the place: and followeth thus: At last she let me go, earnestly recommending my health untome. Now I who know, how her life lodgeth in mine, begin to provide for myself, that consequently I may provide for her: The privilege my age hath bestowed on me, in making me more constant, and more resolute in many things, I lose it; whenever I call to mind, that in this aged corpse there harboureth a young woman, to whom I bring some profit. Since I cannot induce her to love me more courageously, she induceth me to love myself more carefully; for something must be l●nt to honest affections, and sometimes, although occasions urge us to the contrary, life must be revoked again, yea with torment. The soul must be held fast with ones teeth, since the law to live in honest men, is not to live as long as they please, but so long as they ought. He who esteemeth not ●is wife or a friend so much, ●● that he will not lengthen his life for th●m, and will obstinately die, that man is overnice, and too ●ff●minate: The Soul must command that unto herself, when the utility of our friends requireth it: we must sometimes lend ourselves unto our friends, and when we would die for us, we ought for their sak●s to interrupt our design. It is a testimony of high courage to return to life for t●e respect of other● as divers notable men have done: and to preserve age is a part of singular integrity (the chiefest commodity whereof, is the carelessness of her continuance, and a more courageous and disdainful use of life) if a man perceive such an office to be pleasing, acceptable and profitable to any well-affected friend. And who doth it, receiveth thereby a grateful m●●de and pleasing recompense: for what can be sweeter, than to be so dear unto his wife, that in respect of her a man become more dear unto himself; So my Paulina, hath not only charged me with her fear, but also with mine. It hath not been sufficient for me to consider, how resolutely I might die, but I have also considered how irresolutely she might endure it. I have enforced myself to live: And to live is sometimes magnanimity: Read here his own words, as excellent as is his usage. The six and thirtieth Chapter. Of the worthiest and most excellent men. IF a man should demand of me, which of all men that ever came to my knowledge, I would make choise-of, me seemeth, I find three, who have been excellent above all others. The one is, Homer, not that Aristotle or Varro, (for example sake) were not peradventure as wise and as sufficient as he: Nor that Virgil, (and possibly in his own art) be not comparable unto him. I leave that to their judgements that know them both. I who know but one of them, according to my skill may only say this, that I cannot be persuaded, the Muses themselves did ever go beyond the Roman. Tal● facit carmen docta t●studine, quale Propert. li. 2. ●l: 34. 79. — Cynthius impositis temperat articulis. He on his learned Lu●e such verse doth play, As Phoebus should thereto his fingers lay. In which judgement, this must notwithstanding not be forgotten, that Virgil doth especially derive his sufficiency from Homer, and he is his guide and School●master; and that but one only glance or sentence of the Iliads, hath given both body and matter to that great and divine Poem of the Aeneid. My meaning is not to account so: I entermix diverse other circumstances, which yield this man most admirable unto me, and as it were beyond human condition. And truly I am often amazed, that he who hath produced, and by his authority brought so many Deities in credit with the World, hath not obtained to be reputed a God himself. Being blind and indigent; having lived before ever the Sciences were redacted into strict rules and certain observations, he had so perfect knowledge of them, that all those which since his time have laboured to establish Policies or Commonwealths, to manage wars, and ●o write either of Religion or Philosophy, in what Sect soever or of all A●tes, have made use of him, as of an absolutely-perfect Master in the knowledge of all things; and of his Books, as of a Seminary, a Spring-garden or Storehouse of all kinds of sufficiency and learning. Qui quid sit purchrum▪ quid turpe, quid v●ile, quid non, ●or. li. epist. 23 Pl●ntus ac melius Chrysippo ac Crantore dicit. What is fair, What is foul, What profit may, What no●, Better than Crantor or Chrysippus, Homer wrote. And as another saith: — à quo ceu font perrenni Ovid. Am. li 3. ●l. 8. 25. Vatum Pierijs labra rigantur aquis. By whom, as by an ever-flowing-filling spring, With Muse's liquor Poets lips are bathed to sing. And another: Add Heliconiadum comites, quorum unus Homerus Lucr. l▪ 3. 1081. Astrapotitus. Muse's companions add to these, of all One only Homer hath in heaven his stall. And another: — cuiusque ex ore profuso Ma●il ●st. l. 2. 8. Omnis posterit as latices in carmina duxit, Amnémque in tenu●s, a●sa est deducere rivos: unius foecunda bonis. From whose large mouth for verse all that since live Drew water, and grew bolder to derive, Into thin shallow rivers his deep floods: Richly luxuriant in one man's goods. It is against nature's course▪ that he hath made the most excellent production, that may be; for, the ordinary birth of things is imperfect: They are augmented by increase, and corroborated by growth. He hath reduced the infancy of Poesy, and diverse other Sciences to be ripe perfect and complete. By which reason he may be termed the first and last of Poets, following the noble testimony, antiquity hath left us of him, that having had no man before him, whom he might imitate, so hath he had none after him, could imitate him▪ His words (according to Aristotle) are the only words that have motion and action: they are the only substantial Words. Alexander the Great, having lighted upon a rich casket amongst D●rius his spoils, appointed the same to be safely kep● for himself, to keep his Homer in: saying, he was the best adviser, and faithfullest counsellor he had in his military affairs. By the same reason said C●eom●nes, son to Anaxandridas, that he was the Lacedæmonians Poet; for he was an excellent good teacher or Master of War like discipline. This singular praise and particular commendation hath also been given him by Plutarch, where he saith, that he is the only Author in the world, who yet never distasted Reader, or glutted man; ever showing himself other, and different to the Readers; and ever flourishing with a new grace. That Wag Alcibiades, demanding one of Homer's books of one who processed letters, because he had it not, gave him a wherret one the care; as if a man should find one of our Priests, without a breviary. Xenophanes one day made his moan to Hieron the Tyrant of Siracusa, that he was so poor as he had not wherewithal to find two servants: How cometh that to pass? (answered Hieron) Homer, who was much poorer than thou art, dead as he is, findeth more than ten thousand. What left Panaetius unsaide, when he named Plato the Homer of Philosophers? Besides what glory may be compared to his? There is nothing, liveth so in men's mouths as his name and his works; nothing so known and received as Troy, as Helen and her Wars, which peradventure never were. Our Children are yet called by the names he invented three thousand years since and more. Who knoweth not Hector? Who hath not heard of Achilles? Not only some particular races, but most nations seek to derive themselves from his inventions. Machomet, asecond of that name, Emperor of Turks, writing to Pope Pius the second: I wonder (saith he) how the Italians will bandy against me, seeing we have our common offspring, from the Troyans'; and I as well as they have an interest to revenge the blood of Hector upon the Grecians, whom they favour against me. Is it not a worthy Comedy, whereof Kings, Commonwealths, Principalities and Emperors, have for many ages together played their parts, and to which this great Universe serveth as a Theatre: seven cities of Greece strove amongst themselves about the places of his birth. So much honour his very obscurity procured him. Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenae, A. Gel. ●●ct. Att. 13 c. II. Rhodes, Salamis, Colophon, Chios, Argos, Smyrna, with Athens, The other is Alexander the great. For, who shall consider his age, wherein he began his enterprises; the small means he had to ground so glorious a design upon the authority he attained unto in his infancy, amongst the greatest Commanders, and most experienced Captains in the world, by whom he was followed: the extraordinary favour, wherewith fortune embraced him, and seconded so many of his haughtie-dangerous exploits, which I may in a manner call rash or fond-hardie. Impellens quicquid sibi summapetenti Lucan. l. 1. 148. Obstaret, gaudensque viam fecisse ruina. While he shot at the highest, all that might stay He forced, and joy de with ruin to make way. That eminent greatness, to have at the age of thirty years passed victorious through all the habitable earth, and but with half the life of a man to have attained the utmost endeavour of human nature; so that you cannot imagine his continuance lawful, and the lasting of his increase in fortune, and progress in virtue even unto a just term of age, but you must suppose something above man, to have caused so many Royal branches to ●ssue from out the loins of his Soldiers, leaving the world after his death to be shared between four successors, only Captains of his Army, whose succeeders, have so long time since continued, and descendants maintained that large possession. So infinite, rare and excellent virtues that were in him, as justice, temperance, liberality, integrity in words, love toward his, and humanity toward the conquered. For in truth, his manners seem to admit no just cause of reproach: indeed some of his particular, rare and extraordinary actions, may in some fort be taxed. For it is impossible to conduct so great, and direct so violent motions with the strict rules of justice. Such men ought to be judged in gross, by the mistress end of their actions. The ruin of Thebes; the murder of Menander, and of Ephestions Physician; the maslacre of so many Persian prisoners at once: of a troop of Indian Soldiers, not without some prejudice unto his word and promise: and of the Cosseyans and their little children, are escapes somewhat hard to be excused. For, concerning Clitus, the fault was expiated beyond its merit; and that action, as much as any other, witnesseth the integrity and cheerfulness of his complexion, and that it was a complexion in itself excellently form to goodness; And it was wittily said of one, that he had virtues by nature, and vices by accident. Concerning the point, that he was somewhat to lavish a boaster, and over-impatient to hear himself ill-spoken-of; and touching those mangers, arms, and bits, which He caused to be scattered in India, respecting his age and the prosperity of his fortune, they are in my conceit pardonable in him. He that shall also consider his many military virtues, as diligence, foresight patience; discipline, policy, magnanimity, resolution and good fortune; wherein, though Hairballs authority had not taught it us, he hath been the first and chief of men: the rare beauties, matchless features, and incomparable conditions of his person, beyond all comparison, and wonder-breeding; his carriage; demeanour, and venerable behaviour, in a face so young, so verm●ill, and heart-enflaming: Qualis ubi Occani perfusus Lucifer unda, Virg Aen. l. 8. 589. Quen● Venus ante alios astrorum diligit ignes. Extulit os sacrum caelo, tenebrá squere solvit, As when the day star washed in Ocean-streames, Which Venus most of all the stars esteems, Shows sacred ligh, tshakes darkenesse-off with beams. The excellency of his wit, knowledge and capacity; the continuance and greatness of his glory, unspotted, untainted, pure and free from all blame or envy: insomuch as long aftet his death, it was religiously believed of many, that the medals or brooches representing his person brought good luck unto such as wore or had them about them. And that more Kings and Princes have written his gests and actions, than any other historians, of what quality soever, have registered the gests, or collected the actions of any other King or Prince that ever was: And that even at this day, the Mahometists, who contemn all other histories, by special privilege, allow, receive, and only honour his. All which premises duly considered together, he shall confess, I have had good reason to prefer him before Caesar himself who alone might have made me doubt of my choice. And it must needs be granted, that in his exploits there was more of his own; but more of fortunes in Alexander's achievements. They have both had many things mutually alike, and Caesar happily some greater. They were two quick and devouring fires, or two swift and surrounding streams, able to ravage the world by sundry ways. Et velut immissi diversis partibus ignes Lib. 12 521. Arentem in silvam, & virgulta sonantia lauro: Aut ubi decursu rapido de montibus altis Dant sonitum spumosi amnes, & in aequora currunt, Quisque suum populatus iter. As when on diverse sides fire is applied To crackling bay-shrubs, or to woods Sun dried, Or as when foaming streams from mountains hie, With downfall swift resound, and to sea fly; Eachone doth havoc●e-out his way thereby. But grant Caesar's ambition were more moderate, it is so unhappy, in that it met with this vile subject of the subversion of his country, and universal impairing of the world; that all parts imparcially collected and put together in the balance, I must necessarily bend to Alexander's side. The third, and in my judgement, most excellent man, is Epaminondas. Of glory he hath not so much as some, and is far short of divers (which well considered is no substantial part of the thing) of resolution and true valour, not of that which is set-on by ambition, but of that, which wisdom and reason may settle in a well disposed mind, he had as much as may be imagined or wished for. He hath in mine opinion, made as great trial of his virtues, as ever did Alexander or Caesar: for although his exploits of war be not so frequent, and so high-raised, yet being thoroughly considered, they are as weighty, as resolute, as constant, yea and as authentical a testimony of hardiness and military sufficiency, as any man's else. The Grecians, without any contradiction afforded him the honour, to entitle him the chief and first man among themselves: and to be the first and chief man of Greece is without all question to be chief and first man of the world. Touching his knowledge and worth, this ancient judgement doth yet remain amongst us, that never was man who know so much, nor never man that spoke less than he. For he was by Sect a Pythagorean; and what he spoke, no man ever spoke better: An excellent and most persuasive Orator was he. And concerning his manners and conscience therein he far outwent all that ever meddled with managing affairs: For in this one part, which ought especially to be noted, and which alone declareth what we are, and which only I counter poise to all others together, he giveth place to no Philosopher; no not to Socrates himself. In whom innocency is a quality, proper, chief, constant, uniform and incorruptible. In comparison of which, it seemeth in Alexander subalternal, uncertain, variable, effeminate and accidental. Antiquine judged that precisely to sift out, and curiously to pry into all other famous Captains, there is in every one severally some special quality, which makes him renowned and famous. In this man alone, it is a virtue and sufficiency, every where complete and alike; which in all offices of human life, leaveth nothing more to be wished-for. Be it in public or private; in peaceable negotiations or warlike occupations; be it to live or die, greatly or gloriously, I know no form or fortune of man, that I admire or regard, with so much honour, with so much love. True it is, I find this obstinacy in poverty, somewhat scrupulous; and so have his best friends pourtrayed-it. And this only action (high notwithstanding and very worthy admiration) I find or deem somewhat sharp; so as I would nor wish, nor desire the imitation thereof in me, according to the form it was in him. Scipio Aemilianus alone (would any charge him with as fierce, and noblie-minded an end, and with as deep and universal knowledge of Sciences) might be placed in the other scale of the balance against him. Oh what a displeasure hath swift-gliding Time done me, even in the nick, to deprive our eyes, of the chiefest pair of lives, directly the noblest that ever were in Plutarch, of these two truelyworthy personages: by the universal consent of the world, the one chief of Grecians, the other principal of Romans. What a matter, what a workman! For a man that was no Saint, but as we say, a gallant-honest man, of civil manners and common customs; of a temperate haughtiness; the richest lise I know (as the vulgar saying is) to have lived amongst the living, and fraughted with the richest qualities, and most to be desired parts (all things imparcially considered) in my humour, is that of Alcibiades. But touching Epaminondas. for a pattern of excessive goodness, I will here insert certain of his opinions, The sweetest contentment he had in all his life, he witnesseth to have been, the pleasure he gave his father and mother, of his victory upon Le●ctra: he staketh much, in preferring their pleasure, before his content, so just and full of so glorious an action. He thought it unlawful, yea were it to recover the liberty of his country. for any one to kill a man, except he knew some just cause. And therefore was he so backward in the enterprise of Pelopidas his companion, for the deliverance of Thebes. He was also of opinion, that in a battle a man should avoid to encounter his friend, being on the contrary part; and if he met him, to spare him. And his humanity or gentleness, even towards his very enemies, having made him to be suspected of the beotians, for so much as after he had miraculously forced the Lacedæmonians to open him a passage, which at the entrance of Mor●● near Corinth, they had undertaken to make-good, he was contented, without fur there pursuing them in fury, to have marched over their bellies; was the cause he was deposed of his office of Captain General. Most honourably for such a cause; and for the shame it was to them, soon after to be forced by necessity to advance him to his first place: and to acknowledge how their glory, and confess that their safety did only depend on him: victory following him as his shadow, whither soever he went: and as the prosperity of his country was borne by and with him, so it died with and by him. The seven and thirtieth Chapter. Of the resemblance between children and fathers. THis ●udling up of so much trash, or packing of so many several pieces, is done so strangely, as I never lay hands on it, but when an over lazy idleness urgeth me; and no where, but in mine own house. So hath it been compact at sundry pauses, and contrived at several intervals, as occasions have sometime for many months together, here and there in other places, detained me. Besides, I never correct my first imaginations by the second; it may happen, I now and then alter some word, rather to diversify, then take any thing away. My purpose is, to represent the Progress of my humours, that every part be seen or member distinguished, as it was produced. I would to God I had begun sooner, and knew the track of my changes, and course of my variations. A boy whom I employed to write for me, supposed, he had gotten a rich booty, when he stole some parts, which he best liked. But one thing comforts me that he shall gain no more, than I lost by them. I am grown elder by seven or eight years since I began them; nor hath it been without some new purchase. I have by the liberality of years acquainted myself with the stone colic. Their commerce and long conversation, is not easily pastover without some suchlike fruit. I would be glad, that of many other presents, they have ever in store, to bestow upon such as wait upon them long, they had made choice of some one, that had been more acceptable unto me: for they could never possess me with any, that, even from my infancy, I hated more. Of all accidents incident to age, it was that I feared most. Myself have many times thought, I went on too far, and that to hold out so long a journey, I must of necessity, in the end, stumble upon some such unpleasing chance. I perceived plainly, and protested sufficiently, it was high time to depart, and that according to the ●ule of skilful chirurgeons, who when they must cut off some member, life must be seared to the quick, and cut to the sound flesh. That nature is wont to make him pay untolerable usury, who doth not yield or pay the same in due time. I was so far from being ready to make lawful tender of it, that in eighteen months, or thereabouts, I have continued in so irksome and unpleasing plight, I have already learned to apply myself unto it; and am now entering into covenant with this cholical kind of life; for therein I find matter, wherewith to comfort me, and to hope better. So much are men enured in their miserable estate, that no condition is so poor, but they will accept; so they way continue in the same. Hear M●cen●●. Debilem facito ma●●, Sen. epist. 101. f Debilem pede, coxa, Lubricos quate dentes, Vita dum superest, bene est. Make me be weak of hand, Scarce on my legs to stand, Shake my loose teeth with pain, 'tis well, so life remain. And Tamburlaine cloaked the fantastical cruelty, he exercised upon Lazars or Leprousmen, with a foolish kind of humanity, putting all he could find or hereof, to death, (as he said,) to rid them from so painful and miserable a life, as they lived. For, there was none so wretched amongst them, that would not rather have been three times a Leper, than not to be at all. And Antisthenes the Stoic, being very sick, and crying out: Oh who shall deliver me from my tormenting evil? Diogenes, who was come to visit him, forth with presenting him a knife; Marry, this, said he, and that very speedily, i● thou please: I mean not of my life, replied he, but of my sickness. The sufferances which simply touch us in mind, do much less afflict me, than most men: Partly by judgement; For the World deemeth divers things horrible, or avoidable with the loss of life, which to me are in manner indifferent: Partly, by a stupid and insensible complexion, I have in accidents, that hit me not pointblank: Which complexion I esteem one of the better parts of my natural condition. But the truely-essentiall and corporal sufferances, those I taste very sensibly: Yet is it, having othertimes fore-apprehended them with a delicate and weak sight and by the enjoying of this long health and happy rest, which God hath lent me, the better part of my age, somewhat impaired: I had by imagination conccived them so intolerable, that in good truth, I was more afraid, than since I have found hurt in them: Whereupon, I daily augment this opinion: That most of our soul's faculties (as we employ them) do more trouble than stead the quiet repose of life. I am continually grappling with the worst of all diseases, the most grievous, the most mortal, the most remediless and the most violent. I have already had trial of five or six long and painful fits of it: Nevertheless, either I flatter myself, or in this plight there is yet something, that would feign keep life and soul together, namely in him, whose mind is free from fear of death, and from the threats, conclusions and consequences, which physic is ever buzzing into our heads. But the effect of pain itself, hath not so sharp a smarting, or so pricking a sharpness, that a settled man should enter into rage or fall into despair. This commodity at least, I have by the colic, that what I could never bring to pass in myself, which was, altogether to reconcile, and thoroughly to acquaint myself with death, she shall achieve, she shall accomplish: for, by how much more she shall importune and urge me, by so much less shall death be fearful unto me, I had already gotten, not to be beholding to life, but only in regrad of life, and for lives sake: She shall also untie this intelligence, and lose this combination. And God grant, if in the end her sharpness shall happen to surmount my strength, she cast ●●ce not into the other extremity, no less vicious, no less bad, that is, to love and desire to die Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes. Mart. l. 10. ●pig. 47. v●t. Nor fear thy latest doom, Nor wish it ere it come. They are two passions to be feared, but one hath her remedy nearer than the other. Otherwise, I have ever found that precept ceremonious, which so precizely appoints a man to set a good countenance, a settled resolution, and disdainful carriage, upon the sufferance of evils. Why doth Philosophy, which only respecteth liveliness and regardeth effects, ammuze itself about these external appearances? Let her leave this care to Mimikes, to Histrions, and to Rhetoric Masters, who make so great account of our gestures. Let her hardly remit this vocal lithernesse unto evil, if it be neither cordial, nor stomachal▪ And let her lend her voluntary plants to the kind of sighs, sobs, palpatations and paleness, which nature hath exempted from our puissance, Always provided, the courage be without fear, and words sans despair; let her be so contented. What matter is it if we bend our arms, so we writhe not our thoughts? She frameth us for ourselves, not for others: to be, not to seem. Let her apply herself to govern our understanding, which she hath undertaken to instruct. Let her in the pangs or fits of the colic, still maintain the soul capable to acknowledge herself and follow her accustomed course, resisting sorrow and enduring grie●e▪ and not shamefully to prostrate herself at his feet: Moved and chafed with the combat, not basely suppressed nor faintly overthrown: Capable of entertainment and other occupations, unto a certain limit. In so extreme accidents, it is cruelty, to require so composed a ward at our hands. If we have a good game, it skills not, though we have an ill countenance. If the body be any whit eased by complaining, let him do it: If stirring or agitation please him, let him turn, roll and toss himself as long as he list: If with raising his voice, or sending it forth with more violence, he think his grief any thing allayed or vented (as some Physicians affirm, it some what easeth women great with child, and is a mean of eadie or speedy delivery) fear he not to do it; or if he may but entertain his torment, let him mainly cry out. Let us not command our voice to depart, but if she will, let us not hinder it. Epicurus doth not only pardon his wise man to crie-out, when he is grieved Ci●. T●sc. qu. l. 2 or vexed, but persuadeth him to it. Pugiles etiam quum feriunt, in iactandis cestibus inge●iscunt, quia profundenda voce omne corpus intenditur, venit que plaga vehementior. Men when they fight with sand-baoges or such heavy Weapons, in fetching their blow and driving it, will give a groan with all, because by stretching their voice all their body is also strained, and the stroke cometh with more vehemence. We are vexed and troubled enough with the evil, without troubling and vexing ourselves with these superfluous rules. This I say to excuse those, which are ordinarily seen to rage in the fits and storm in the assaults of this sickness: for, as for me, I have hitherto past it over with somewhat a better countenance, and am content to groan without braying and exclaiming. And yet I trouble not myself, to maintain this exterior decency; for, I make small reckoning of such an advantage; In that I lend my sickness what it requireth: But either my pain is not so excessive, or I bear it with more constancy than the vulgar sort. Indeed I must confess, when the sharp fits or throws assail me, I complain, and vex myself, but yet I never fall into despair, as that fellow: Eiulatu, questu, gemitu, fremitibus C●●. ibid. Resanando multum flebiles v●ces refert. with howling, groaniug, and complaint of fates, Most lamentable cries he imitates. I feel myself in the greatest heat of my sickness; and I ever found myself capable and in tune, to speak, to think and to answer, as sound as at any other time, but not so constantly, because my pain doth much trouble and distract me. When I am thought to be at the lowest, and that such as are about me spare me, I often make a trial of my forces, and propose them such discourses as are furthest from my state. There is nothing impossible for me, and me thinks I can do all things upon a sudden fit, so it continue not long. Oh why have not I the gift of that dreamer; mentioned by Cicero, who dreaming, that he was closely embracing a young wench; found himself rid of the stone in his sheets! Mine do strangely dis-wench me. In the intermission or respites of this outrageous pairre, when as my ureters (through which the urine passeth from the reins to the bladder) languish without gnawing me, I suddenly return into my ordinary form: forsomuch as my mind taketh no other allarume, but the sensible and corporal. All which I certainly owe unto the care I have had to prepare myself by reason and discourse of such accidents: — laborum Virg. Aen. l. 6. 103. Nulla mihi nova nuncfacies inopináque surgit, Omnia precept, at que animo mecum antè peregi. No new or unexpected form is cast Of travels in my breast: all I forecast, In my mind with self I all forepast. I am handled somewhat roughly for a Prentice, and with a violent and rude change; being at one instant fallen from a very pleasing, calm, and most happy condition of life, unto the most dolorous, irksome and painful, that can possibly be imaginad: For, besides that in itself it is a disease greatly to be feared, its beginnings or approaches are in me sharper or more difficult▪ than it is wont to trouble others withal. The pangs and fits thereof do so often assail me, that in a manner I have no more feeling of perfect health. Notwithstanding I hitherto keep my spirit so seated, as if I can but join constancy unto it, I find myself to be in a much better state of life, than a thousand others, who have neither ague nor other infirmity, but such as for want of discourse they give themselves. There is a certain fashion of subtle humility, which proceedeth of presumption: As this: That in many things we acknowledge our ignorance, and are so courteous to avow, that in Nature's works, there are some qualities and conditions, which to us are imperceptible, and whereof our sufficiency cannot discover the means, nor find out the causes. By this honest and conscientious declaration, we hope to gain, that we shall also be believed in those, we shall say to understand. We need not go to cull out miracles, and choose strange difficulties: me seemeth, that amongst those things we ordinarily see, there are such incomprehensible rarities, as they exceed all difficulty of miracles. What monster is it, that this tear or drop of seed, whereof we are engendered brings with it; and in it the impressions, not only of the corporal form, but even of the very thoughts and inclinations of our fathers? Where doth this drop of water contain or lodge this infinite number of forms? And how bear they these resemblances, of so rash, and unruly a progress, that the child's child shall be answerable to his grandfather, and the nephew to his uncle? In the family of Lepidus the Roman, there have been three, not successively, but some between, that were borne with one same eye covered with a cartilege or gristle. There was a race in Thebes, which from their mother's womb, bore the form of a burr, or iron of a lance; and such as had it not, were judged as misbegotten and deemed unlawful. Aristotle reporteth of a certain Nation, with whom all women were common, where children were allotted their fathers, only by their resemblances. It may be supposed, that I am indebted to my father for this stony quality; for he died exceedingly tormented with a great stone in his bladder. He never felt himself troubled with the disease, but at the age of sixty seven years: before which time he had never felt any likelihood or motion of it, nor in his reins, nor in his sides, nor elsewhere: and until then had lived in very prosperous health, and little subject to infirmities, and continued seven years and more with that disease training a very dolorous lives-end. I was borne five and twenty years before his sickness, and during the course of his healthy state his third child. Where was all this while the propension or inclination to this defect, hatched? And when he was so far from such a disease, that light part of his substance wherewith he composed me, how could it for her part, bear so great an impression of it? And how so closely covered, that forty five years after, I have begun to have a feeling of it? And hitherto alone, among so many brethren and sisters, and all of one mother. He that shall resolve me of this progress, I will believe him as many other miracles as he shall please to tell me: always provided (as commonly they do) he go not about to pay me, with a doctrine much more difficult and fantastical, then is the thing itself (let Physicians somewhat excuse my liberty:) for by the same infusion and fatal insinuation, I have received the hate and contempt of their doctrine. The Antipathy, which is between me and their art, is to me hereditary. My father lived three score and fourteen years: My grandfather three score and nine; my great grandfather very near four score, and never fasted or took any kind of Physic. And whatsoever was not in ordinary use amongst them, was deemed a drug. Physic is grounded upon experience and examples. So is mine opinion. Is not this a manifest kind of experience and very advantageous? I know not whether in all their registers, they are able to find me three more, borne, bred, brought up, and diceased, under one roof, in one same chimney, that by their own direction and regiment have lived so long. Wherein they must needs grant me, that if it be not reason, at least it is Fortune that is on my side. Whereas among physicians fortune is of more consequence, than reason. Low-brought, and weak as I am now, let them not take me at an advantage, nor let them not threaten me: for that were insulting arrogance. And to say truth, I have by my familiar examples gained enough upon them although they would take hold and stay there. human things have not so much constancy: It is now two hundred years; wanting but eighteen, that this Essay continueth with us: For, the first was borne in the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and two, Some reason there is why this experience should now begin to fail us. Let them not upbraid me with those infirmities, which now have seized upon me: Is it not sufficient to have lived seven and forty years in good and perfect health for my part? Suppose it be the end of my career, yet it is of the longest, Mine ancestors by some se●ret instinct and natural inclination have ever loathed all manner of Physic: for the very sight of drugs bred a kind of horror in my father. The Lord of Gaviac mine uncle by the father's side, a man of the church, sickish even from his birth, and who notwithstanding made his weak life to hold out until sixty seven years; falling once into a dangerous and vehement continual fever, it was by the Physicians concluded, that unless he would aid himself (for they often ●erme that aid, which indeed is impeachment) he was but a dead man. The good soul, affrighted as he was, at that horrible sentence, answered thus, why when I am a dead man: But shortly after God made their prognostications to prove vain. The Lord of Bussaguet last of the brethren (for they were four) and by much the last, he alone submitted himself to that art, as I imagine by reason of the frequency he had in other Sciences; for he was a Counsellor in the Court of Parliament, which prospered so ill with him, that though he were in show of a very strong complexion, he died long before the others, except one, the Lord of Saint Michael. It may well be, I have received of them that natural dyspathie unto Physic. Yet if there had been no other consideration but this, I would have endeavoured to force it. For, all these conditions, which without reason are borne in us, ate vicious. It is a kind of malady a man must fight withal. It may be I had such a propension, but I have settled and strongthned the same by discourses, which in me have confirmed the opinion I have of it. For, I have also the consideration to refuse Physic by reason of the sharpness of its taste. It would not easily agree with my humour, who think health worthy to be purchased, with the price of all cautheries and incisions, how painful so ever. And following Epicurus, me seemeth that all manner of voluptuousness should be avoided, if greater griefs follow them: And griefs to be sought after, that have greater voluptuousness ensuing them. Health is a very precious jewel, and the only thing, that in pursuit of it deserveth, a man should not only employ, time, labour, sweat and goods, but also life to get it; forasmuch as without it, life becometh injurious unto us. Voluptuousness, Science and virtue, without it tarnish and vanish away. And to the most constant & exact discourses, that Philosophy will imprint in our minds to the contrary, we need not oppose any thing against it but the image of Plato, being visited with the falling sickness, or an Apoplexy; and in this presupposition challenge him to call the richest faculties of his mind to help him. All means that may bring us unto health, can not be esteemed of me either sharp or dear. But I have some other appearances, which strangely make me to distrust all this ware. I do not say but there may be some art of it: It is certain, that amongst ●o many of Nature's works, there are some things proper for the preservation of our health. I know there are some simples, which in operation are moistening and some drying: Myself have found by experience that radish-rootes are windy, and senie-leaves breed looseness in the belly. I have the knowledge of divers such experiments, as I know that Mutton nourisheth that Wine warmeth me. And Solon was wont to say, that eating was as all other Drugs are, a medicine against the disease of hunger. I disallow not the use we draw ●●●m the world, nor doubt I of Nature's power and fruitfulness, and of her application to our need. I see, that the Pickrell▪ fish, and the Swallows live well by her laws. I greatly distrust the inventions of our wit, of our art and of our Science: in favour of which we have forsaken Nature, and abandoned her rules; wherein we can neither observe limitation, nor keep moderation. As we term ●ustice, the composition of the first laws that come unto our hands, and their practice and dispensation very often most wicked and unconvenient. And as those which mock and condemn it, intent nevertheless to wrong this noble virtue; but only to condemn the abuse and profanation of so sacred a title: So likewise in Physic, I know her glorious name, her proposition, and her promise, so profitable to mankind: but what it desseigneth amongst us, I neither honour nor respect. 〈◊〉, experience makes me fear it, for of all I know, I see no kind of men so soon sick, nor so late cured, as those who are under the urisdiction of Physic. Their very health is distempered and corrupted by the constraint of ●their prescription. Physicians are not contented to have the government over Sickness, but they make Health to be sick, lest a man should at any time escape their authority. Of a constant and perfect health, do they not frame an argument of some future dangerous sickness? I have often been sick, and without any their help, I have found my sicknesses (though I never meddled with the bitterness of their prescriptions) as easy to be tolerated, and as short, as any man's else, and yet I have felt divers. My health is free and sound, without any rules or discipline) except of my own custom and pleasure. I find no difference in places, all are alike to me to dwell in: forbeing sick, I need no other commodities, than those I must have when I am in health. I am nothing passionated, though I be without Physician, without Apothecary, or without physical help; whereat I see some as much troubled in mind, as they are with their disease, What? doth the best Physician of them all make us perceive any happiness or continuance in his life, as may w●●nesse some manifest effect of his skill and learning? There is no Nation, but hath continued many ages without physic: yea the first ages, which is as much to say, the best and most happy: and the tenth part of the world hath as yet no use of it. Infinite Nations know it not; where they live both more healthy and much longer than we do: yea and amongst us, the common ●ort live happily without it. The Romans had been six hundred years before ever they received it: by means or interposition of Cato the Censor, they banish● it their City, who declared how easily man might live without it, having lived himself four score and five years, and his wife until she was extremely old, not without Physic, but indeed without any Physician: For, whatsoev●r is by experience found healthy for our body and health, may be termed physic. He entertained (as Pi●tarke saith) his family in health, by the use (as far as I remember) of Hare's milk: As the Arcadians (saith Plinic) cure all maladies with cows milk. And the Lybians (saith Herodotus) do generally enjoy a perfect health, by observing this custom, which is, so soon as their children are about four years old, to cauterize and sear the veins of their head and temples, whereby they cut-off the way to all rheums and defluxions. And the country▪ people where I dwell, use nothing against all diseases, but some of the strongest wine they can get, with store of saffron and spice in it; and all with one like fortune. And to say true, of all this diversity of rules, and confusion of prescriptions, what other end or effect works it, but to evacuate the belly? which a thousand home-simples will do as well. And I know not whether it be as profitable (as they say) and whether our nature require the residents of her excrements, until a certain measure, as wine doth his lees for his preservation. You see often men very healthy, by some strange accidents, to fall into violent vomits, and fluxes, and void great store of excrements, without any precedent need, or succeeding benefit: yea with some impairing and prejudice. I learned of Plato not long since, that of three motions, which belong to us, the last and worst, is that of purgations, and that no man, except he be a fool, aught to undertake it; unless it be in great extremity. The evil is troubled and stirred up by contrary oppositions. It is the form of life, that gently must diminish, consume and bring it to an end. Since the violent twinges of the drug and malady are ever to our loss; since the quarrel is cleared in us, and the drug a trustless help; by it's own nature an enemy to our health, and but by trouble hath no access in our state. Let's give them leave to go on. That order which provideth for Fleas and Moles, doth also provide for men, who have the same patience to suffer themselves to be governed, that Fleas and Moles have. We may fairly cry bo-bo-boe; it may well make us hoarse, but it will nothing advance it. It is a proud and impetuous order. Our fear and our despair, in lieu of enviting the same unto it, doth distaste and delay it out of our help: he oweth his course to evil, as well as to sickness. To suffer himself to be corrupted in favour of one, to the prejudice of the others rights, he will not do it; so should they fall into disorder. Let us go on in the name of God; let us follow; He leadeth-on such as follow him: those that follow him not he haleth-on, both with their rage and physic together. 'Cause a purgation to be prepared for your brain; it will be better employed unto it, then to your stomach. A Lacedaemonian being asked, what had made him live so long in health, answered, The ignorance of physic- And Adrian the Emperor, as he was dying, ceased not to cry out, that the number of Physicians had killed him. A bad wrestler became a Physician. Courage, said Diogenes to him, thou hast reason to do so, for now shalt thou help to put them into the ground, who have heretofore aided to lay thee on it. But according to Nicoles, they have this hap, That the Sun doth manifest their success, and the earth doth cover their fault, And beside, they have a very advantageous fashion among themselves, to make use of all manner of events; for, whatsoever either Fortune or Nature, or any otherstrange cause (whereof the number is infinite) produceth in us, or good or healthful, it is the privilege of Physic to ascribe it unto herself. All the fortunate successes that come to the patient, which is under their government, it is from nature he hath them. The occasions that have cured me, and which heal a thousand others, who never send or call for Physicians to help them, they usurp them in their subjects. And touching ill accidents, either they utterly disavow them, in imputing the blame of them to the patient, by some vain reasons, whereof they never miss to find a great number; as he lay with his arms out of the bed, he hath heard the noise of a coach; — rhedarum transitus arcto juv▪ sat. 3. 236. Vicorum inflexu. Coaches could hardly pass, The lane so crooked was. His Window was left open all night; He hath lain upon the left side, or troubled his head with some heavy thought. In some, a word, a dream, or a look, is of them deemed a sufficient excuse, to free themselves from all imputation: Or if they please, they will also make use of this emparing, and thereby make up their business; and as a mean which can never fail them, when by their applications the disease is grown desperate, to pay us with the assurance, that if their remedies had not been, it would have been much worse. He, whom but from a cold they have brought to a Cotidian Ague, without them should have had a continual fever. They must needs thrive in their business, since all ills redound to their profit. Truly they have reason to require of the patient an application of favourable confidence in them; which must necessarily be in good earnest, and yielding to apply itself unto imaginations, over-hardly to be believed, Plato said very well and to the purpose, that freely to lie belonged only to Physicians, since our health dependeth on their vanity and falsehood of promises. Aesop an Author of exceeding rare excellence, and whose graces few discover, is very pleasant in representing this kind of tyrannical authority unto us. which they usurp upon poor souls, weakened by sickness, and overwhelmed through fear; for he reporteth, how a sick man being demanded by his Physician, what operation he felt by the Physic he had given him. I have sweat much, answered he; that is good, replied the Physician, Another time he asked him again how he had done since; I have had a great cold and quivered much, said he: that is very well, quoth the Physician again, The third time he demanded of him, how he felt himself; He answered, I swell and puffe-up as it were with the dropsy; That's not amiss, said the Physician. A familiar friend of his coming afterward to visit him, and to know how he did? Verily (said he) my friend I die with being too too well. There was a more equal Law in Egypt, by which for the first three days the Physician took the patient in hand, upon the patient's peril and fortune; but the three days expired, it was at his own. For, What reason is there, that Aesculapius their patron must have been strucken with Thunder, forsomuch as he recovered Hippolytus from death to life? Nampater omnipotens aliquem indignatus ab umbris, Mortalem infernis, ad lumina surgere vitae. Vi●g. Ae● l. 7. 770. Ipse repertorem medicinae talis, & artis Fu●mine Phoebigenam slygias detrusit adundas, jove scorning that from shades infernal night, A mortal man should rise to life's new light Apollo's son to hell he thunder-threw. Who such an art found out, such medicine knew, and his followers must be absolved, that send so many souls from life to death? A Physician boasted unto Nicocles, that his Art was of exceeding great authority, It is true (quoth Nicocles) for, it may kill so many people without fear of punishment by Law. As for the rest, had I been of their counsel, I would surely have made my discipline more sacred and mysterious. They had begun very well, but the end hath not answered the beginning. It was a good ground, to have made Gods and Doemons' Authors of their Science, to have affirmed a peculiar language and writing to themselves. Howbeit Philosophy supposeth it to be folly to persuade a man to his profit, by ways not understood: Vt si quis medicus imperet ut sumat: As if a Physician should bid a man take. Terrigenam▪ herbigradam, demiportam, sanguine cassam, Ci●. divin. lib. 2. One earthborn, goe-by grass, house-bearing▪ slimilie, bloodless. It was a good rule in their art, and which accompanieth all fanatical, vain, and supernatural arts, that the patients belief must by good hope and assurance preoccupate their effect and operation. Which rule they hold so far forth, that the most ignorant and bungling horseleech is fitter for a man that hath confidence in him, than the skilfullest and learnedst Physician. The very choice of most of their Drugs, is somewhat mysterious and divine. The left font of a Tortoyze; The stale of a Lizard; The dongue of an Elephant; The liver of a Mole, Blood drawn from under the right wing of a white Pigeon; And for us who are troubled with the stone-cholike (so disdainfully abuse they our misery) Some Rats pounded to small powder; and such other foolish trash, which rather seem to be magike-spells or charms▪ than effects of any solid science. I omit to speak of The odd number of their pills; The destination of c●rtaine days and feasts of the year; The distinction of hours to gather the simples of their ingredients; And the same rewbarbative and severely-grave look of theirs, and of their port and countenance; Which ●l●●i● himself mocketh at. But, as I was about to say they have failed, forsomuch as they have not added this to their fair beginning, to make their assemblies more religious, and their consuitations more secret. No prosane man should have access unto them, no more than to the secret ceremonies of Aesculapius. By which means it cometh to pass, that their irresolution, the weakness of their Arguments, divinations and grounds, the sharpness of their contestations full of hatred, of jealousy and particular considerations, being apparent to all men; a man must needs be stark blind, ●● he who falleth into their hands, see not himself greatly endangered. Who ever saw Physician use his fellows receipt, without diminishing or adding somewhat unto it? Whereby they greatly betrai● their Art; And make us perceive, they rather respect their reputation, and consequently their profit, than the welfare or interest of their patients. He is the wisest amongst their Doctors, who hath long since prescribed them, that one alone should meddle to cure a sick man; for, if it prosper not with him, and he do no good, the reproach will not be great to the Art of Physic, through the fault of one man alone; and on the other side, if it thrive well with him, the Glory shallbe the greater. Whereas if they be mani●, every hand-while they discover their mystery, because They oftener happen to d●e ill than well. They should have been content with the perpetual dis-agreeing, which is ever found in the opinions of the principal Masters and chief Authors of their Science, known but by such as are conversant in Books, without making apparent show of the controversies, and inconstanties of their judgement, which they foster and continue amongst themselves. Will we have an example of the ancient debate of Physic? Hirophil●s placeth the original cause of sickness in the humours: Erasistratus, in the blood of the A●te●i●s: As●l●●●ad●s, in the ●nvisible Atoms that pass into our pores: Al●meon, in the abundan●●●r de●ence of corporal forces: Diocles, in the inequality of the bodies elements, and in the 〈◊〉 of the a●e, we breath: Strato, in the abundance, crudity and corruption of the nourishment we take: Hipocrates doth place it in the spirits. There is a friend of the●rs, whom they know better than I, who to this purpose crieth out; that the most important science in use amongst us (as that which hath charge of our health and preservation) is by ill hap, the most uncertain, the most confused, and most agitated with infinite changes. There is no great danger to mistake the height of the Sun, or misse-reckon the fraction of some Astronomical supputation; but herein, whereon our being and chief freehold doth wholly depend it is no wisdom to abandon ou● selves to the mercy of the agitation of so ma●●●old ●on rari● wind●s. Before the Peloponesian war, there was no great news of this science. Hipocrates brought it into credit. Whatsoever he established, Chrysippus overthrew, Afterward Erasistrat●s Grandchild to Aristotle, re-enve●st what ever Chrysippus had written of it. After these, start up the Empeirikes, who concerning the managing of this Art, took a new cou●se▪ altogether different from those ancient fathers. And when their credit began to growesta●e; Hirophilus brought another kind of Physic into use, which As●l●piades when his ●u●ne came, impugned, and in the end subverted. Then came the opinions of Themi●on to be in great authority, than those of Musa, and afterward those of Vect●●s V●l●ns, a famous Physician, by reason of the acquaintance he had with Messalina. During the time of N●ro, the sovereignty of Physic fell to the hands of Thessalus, who abolished and condemned whatsoever had been held of it before his time. This man's Doctrine was afterward wholly overthrown by Crinas of Mars●ille, who a new revived and framed, that all men should direct and rule medicinable operations to the Ephemerideses and motions of the star●es, to eat, to drink, to sleep at what hour it should please Luna and M●rcu●ie. His authority was soon after supplanted by Charinus; a Physician of the same town of Mars●illes, who not only impugned ancient Physic, but also the use of warm and public baths, which had been accustomed so many ages before. He caused men to be ba●h●d in cold Water; yea, were it in the deep of Winter he plunged and dived sick men into the running stream of Rivers. Until Pliny's time no Roman had ever da●ned to exercise the Art of Physic, but was ever used by strangers and Grecians, as at this day it is used in France by Latinizers. For, as a famous Physician saith, we do not easily admit and allow that Physic, which we understand, nor those Drugs we gather ourselves. If those Nations from whom we have the Wood Guiacum, the Salsapar●ille, and the Wood Desqu●ne, have any Physician amongst them, how much think we by the same commendation of the strangeness, rareness and d●a●th, they will rejoice at our coleworts and parsley? For, who dareth contemn things sought and fetch so far-off with the hazard of so long and dangerous a peregrination? since these ancient mutations of physic, there have been infinite others, that have continued unto our days, and most often entire and universal mutations; as are those which Paracelsus, Fioravanti and Argenterius have produced: for (as it is told me) they do not only change a receipt, but also the whole contexture and policy of physics whole body, accusing such as hitherto have made profession thereof, of ignorance and cozenage. Now I leave to your imagination, in what plight the poor patient findeth himself. If we could but be assured, when they mistake themselves, their physic would do us no harm, although not profit us; It were a reasonable composition, for a man to hazard himself to get some good, so he endangered not himself to lose by it. Aesop reporteth this story; that one who had bought a Moore-slave, supposing his black hue had come unto him by some strange accident, or ill usage of his former Master with great diligence caused him to be medicined with diverse baths and sundry potions: It fortuned the Moor did no whi● mend or change his swarthy complexion, but lost his former health. How often cometh it to pass, and how many times see we physicians charge one another with their patients death. I remember a popular sickness, which some years since, greatly troubled the Towns about me, very mortal and dangerous; the rage whereof being overpast, which had carried away an infinite number of persons: One of the most famous physicians in all the country, published a book, concerning that disease; wherein he adviseth himself, that they had done amiss to use phlebotomy▪ and confesseth, it had been one of the principal causes of so great an inconvenience. Moreover, their Authors hold, that there is no kind of Physic, but hath some hurtful part in it. And ●● those that f●t ou● turn, do in some sort harm us; what must those do, which are given us to no purpose, and out of season? As for me, if nothing else belonged thereunto, I deem it a matter very dangerous▪ and of great prejudice for him who loathes the taste, or abhors the smell of a potion, to swallow it at so unconvenient hours, and so much against his heart. And I think it much d●stempereth a sick man, namely in a season he hath so much need of rest. Besides, consider but the occasions, on which they ordinarily ground the cause of our sicknesses; they are so light and delicate, as thence I argue, That a very small error in compounding of their Drugs, may occasion us mu●h de●riment. Now if the mistaking in a Physician be dangerous, it is very ill for us: for it is hard if he fall not often into it. He hath need of many parts, diverse considerations and several circumstances to proportion his design justly. He ought to know the sick man's complexion, his temper, his humours, his inclinations, his actions, his thoughts and his imaginations. He must be assured of external circumstances; of the nature of the place; the condition of the air; the quality of the weather; the situation of the Planets, and their influences. In sickness, he ought to be acquainted with the causes, with the signs, with the affections and critical days: In drugs ●● should understand their weight, their virtue and their operation, the country, the figure, the age, the dispensation. In all these parts, he must know how to proportion and refer them one unto another; thereby to bege● a perfect Symmetry or due proportion of each part: wherein if he miss never so little, or if amongst so many wheels and several motions, the least be out of tune or temper; it is enough to mar all. God knows how hard the knowledge of most of these parts is: As for example, how shall he find out the proper sign of the disease, every malady being capable of an infinite number of signs; How many debates, doubts and controversies have they amongst themselves about the interpretations of Urine? Otherwise whence should that continual alt●●●ation come we see amongst them, about the knowledge of the disease? How should we excuse this fault, wherein they fall so often, to take a Martin for a Fox? In those diseases I have had (so they admitted any difficulty) I could never yet find three agreeing in on● opinion. I more willingly note examples that concern myself. A Gentleman in Paris was not long since cut off the stone by the appointment of Physicians, in whose bladder they found no more stone, then in his hand: Where also a Bishop, who was my very good friend, had by his Physicians been earnestly solicited to be cut; and myself, because they were of his counsel, upon their words, aided to persuade him to it; who being deceased and opened, it was found, he had no infirmity but in his reins. They are less excusable in this d●sease, forsomuch as it is in some sort palpable. Whereby I judge the art of Chirurgery much more certain; For it seeth and handl●th what it doth; and therein is less conjecture and divination. Whereas Physicians have no speculum matricis, to discover our brain, our ●ungs and our l●ver unto them. The very promises of physic are incredible. For being to provide for diverse and contrary accidents, which often trouble us together, and with a kind of necessary relation one unto another; as the heat of the liver, and the cold of the stomach, they will persuade us, that with their ingredients, this one shall warm the stomach, and this other cool the liver; the one hath charge to go directly to the reins, yea even to the bladder, without installing his operation any where else, and by reason of its secret propriety, keeping his force and virtue, all that long way, and so full of stops or lets, until it come to the place, to whose service it is destinated. Another shall dry the brain, and another moisten the lungs. Of all this hodgepodge having composed a mixture or potion, is it not a kind of raving, to hope their several virtues shall divide and separate themselves from out such a confusion or commixture, to run to so divers charges? I should greatly fear they would lose or change the●r tickets and trouble their quarters. And who can imagine, that in this liquid confusion, these faculties be not corrupted, confounded and alter one another? What? that the execution of this ordinance depends from another officer, to whose trust and mercy we must once moreforsake our lives? As we have doublet and hose-makers to make our clothes, and are so much the better fitted, in as much as each meddleth with his own trade, and such have their occupation more strictly limited, than a Tailor that will make all. And as for our necessary food, some of our great Lords, for their more commodity and ease have several cooks, as some only to dress boiled meats, and some to roast, others to bake, whereas if one Cook alone would supply all three in general, he could never do it so exactly. In like sort for the curing of all diseases, the Egyptians had reason to reject this general mystery of Physicians, and to sunder this profession for every malady, allotting each part of the body his distinct workman. For, every particular part was thereby more properly attended, and less confusedly governed, and for so much as they regarded but the same especially. Our Physicians never remember, that he who will provide for all, provideth for nothing; and that the total and summary policy of this little world, is unto them undig estible Whilst they feared to stop the course of a bloody flux, because he should not fall into an ague, they killed me a friend of mine, who was more worth than all the rabble of them; yea were they as many more. They balance their divinatious of future things, with present evils, and because they will not cure the brain in prejudice of the stomach, they offend the stomach and impair the brain, and all by their seditious and tumultuary drugs. Concerning the variety and weakness of the reasons of this Art, it is more apparent then in any other Art. Aperitive things are good for a man that's troubled with the colic, because that opening and dilating the passages, they address this slimy matter whereof the gravel and stone is engendered, and so convey downward whatsoever beginneth to harden and petrify in the reins: A peritive things are dangerous for a man that's troubled with the colic, because that opening and dilating the passages, they address towards the reins, the matter engendering gravel, which by reason of the propensions they have with it, easily seizing on the same, must by consequence stay great store of that which is conveyed unto them. Moreover, if by chance it fortune to meet with a body, somewhat more gross than it ought to be, to pas●e all those straight turnings, which to expel the same they must glide thorough; that body being moved by those soluble things, and cast in those straight channels, and coming to stop them, it will doubtless hasten a certain and most dolorous death. They have a like constancy about the counsels they give us, touching the regiment of our life. It is good to make water often; for by experience we see, that permitting the same idly to lie still, we give it leisure to discharge itself of her lees and excrements, which may serve to breed the stone in the bladder: It is good to make water but seldom, for the weighty dregs it draws with it, are not easily carried away, except by violence: as by experience is seen in a torrent that runneth very swift, which sweepeth and cleanseth the place through which he passeth, much more than doth a slow-gliding stream. Likewise it is good to have often copulation with women; for that openeth the passages, and convaieth the gravel away: It is also hurtful; for it heateth, wearieth, and weakeneth the reins. It is good for one to bathe himself in warm water; for so much as that looseth and moisteneth the places where the gravel and stone lurketh: It is also bad; because this application of external heat helpeth the reins to concoct, to harden and petrify the matter disposed unto it. To such as are at the baths, it is more healthful to eat but little at night, that the water they are to drink the next morning, finding the stomach empty, and without any obstacle, it may work the greater operation: on the other side, it is better to eat but a little at dinner, lest a man might hinder the operation of the water, which is not yet perfect, and not to charge the stomach so suddenly, after this other travel, and leave the office of digesting unto the night, which can better do it then the day; the body and spirit being then in continual motion and action. Lo here how they in all their discourses juggle, dally, and trifle at our charge, and are never able to bring me a proposition, but I can presently frame another to the contrary, of like force & consequence. Let them then no longer rail against those who in any sickness, suffer themselves gently to be directed by their own appetite, and by the counsel of nature; and who remit themselves to common fortune. I have by occasion of my travels seen almost all the famous Baths of Christendom, and some years since have begun to use them: For, in general I deem bathing to be very good and healthy, and I am persuaded, we incur no small incommodities in our health, by having neglected and lost this custom, which in former times were generally observed very near amongst all Nations, and is yet with diverse at this time to wath their bodies every day: And I cannot imagine but that we are much the worse with keeping our bodies all overcrusted, and our pores stopped with grease and filth. And touching the drinking of them, fortune hath first made it to agree very well with my taste: secondly it is natural and simple; and though vain, nothing dangerous: whereof this infinity of people of all sorts and complexions, and of all nations that come to them, doth warrant me. And although I have as yet found no extraordinary good or wondrous effect in them, but rather having somewhat curiously examined the matter, I find all the reports of such operations, which in such places are reported, and of many believed, to be false and fabulous. So easily doth the world deceive itself, namely in things it desireth, or feign would have come to pass. Yet have I seen but few or none at all, whom these waters have made worse; and no man can without malice deny, but that they stir up a man's appetite, make easy digestion, and except a man go to them overweake and faint (which I would have none do) they will add a kind of new mirth unto him. They have not the power to raise men from desperate diseases. They may stay some light accident, or prevent the threats of some alteration. Whosoever goeth to them, and resolveth not to be merry, that so he may enjoy the pleasure of the good company resorts to them, and of the pleasant walks or exercises, which the beauty of those places, where baths are commonly seated, doth afford and delight men withal; he without doubt looseth the better part and most assured of their effect. And therefore have I hitherto chosen to stay myself and make use of those, where I found the pleasure of the situation most delightsome, most conveniency of lodging, of victuals and company, as are in France the baths of Banieres; those of Plombieres, on the frontiers of Germany and Lorraine; those of Baden in Switzerland; those of Lucia in Tuscanie; and especially those of Della villa●, which I have used most often and at divers seasons of the year. Every nation hath some particular opinion concerning their use, and several laws and forms how to use them, and all different: And as I have found by experience the effect in a manner all one. In Germany they never use to drink of their waters; but bathe themselves for all diseases, and will lie paddling in them, all most from Sun to Sun. In Italy if they drink nine days of the water, they wash themselves other thirty days with it. And commonly they drink it mixed with other drugs, thereby to help the operation. here our Physicians appoint us when we have drunk to walk upon it, that so we may help to digest it: There, so soon as they have drunk, they make them lie a bed, until they have voided the same out again, continually warming their stomach and feet with warm clothes. All the Germans whilst they lie in the water, do particularly use cupping glasses, and scarifications: And the Italians use their Do●ci●, which are certain spouts running with warm waters, conveyed from the bathes-spring in leaden pipes, where, for the space of a month, they let it spout upon their heads, upon their stomach, or upon any other part of the body, according as need requireth, one hour in the forenoon, and as long in the after noon▪ there are infinite other differences of customs in every country: or to say better, there is almost no resemblances between one and other. See how this part of Physic, by which alone I have suffered myself to be carried away, which though it be the least artificial, yet hath she the share of the confusion and uncertainty, seen in all other parts and every where of this art. Poet's may say what they list, and with more emphasis and grace: witness these two Epigrams. Alcon hesterno signum jovis attigit. Ille Lucil. Auso●. epig. 73 Quamvis marmoreus, vim patitur medici. Ecce hody iussus transferri ex ●de vetusta, Effertur, quamuis sit Deus at que lapis. Alcon looked yesterday on carved jove. jove, though of Marble, feels the letches' force, From his old Church to day made to remove, Though God and Stone, he's carried like a coarse. And the other: Lotus nobiscum est hilaris, coenavit & idem, Mart. l. 6. epig. 53. Inventus mane est mortuus Androgoras. Tam subitae mortis causam Fustine requiris? In somnis medicum viderat Hermocratem. Androg●ras in health bathed over night with us, And merry supped, but in the morn stark dead was found. Of his so sudden death, the cause shall I discuss. Hermocrates the Leech he saw in sleep unsound. Upon which I will tell you two pretty stories. The Baron of Caupene in Chalosse and I, have both in common the right of the patronage of a benefice, which is of a very large precinct, situated at the feet of our Mountains, named Lohontan. It is with the inhabitants of that corner, as it is said to be with those of the valley of Angrougne. They lead a kind of peculiar life; their attire, and their customs apart and several. They were directed and governed by certain particular policies and customs, received by tradition from Father to Child: Whereto, without other Laws or Compulsion, except the reverence and awe of their custom and use, they awefully tied and bound themselves. This petty state had from all antiquity continued in so happy a condition, that no neighbouring severe judge had ever been troubled to inquire of their life and affairs, nor was ever Attorney or Petty fogging Lawyer called for, to give them advise or counsel; no● stranger sought unto to determine their quarrels or decide their contentions; neither were ever beggars seen amongst them. They always avoided commerce and shunned alliances with the other World, lest they should alter the purity of their orders and policy; until such time (as they say) that one amongst them, in their father's days, having a mind puffed up with a noble ambition, to bring his name and credit in reputation, devised to make one of his Children Sir john Lacke-latine, or Master Peter-an-Oake: And having made him learn to write in some neighbour Town not far off, at last procured him to be a Country Notary, or Pettifogging Clerk. This fellow having gotten some pelf and become great, began to disdain their ancient customs, and put the pomp and stateliness of our higher regions into their heads. It fortuned that a chief Gossip of his had a Goat dishorned, whom he importunately solicited to sue the Trespasser, and demand law and right at the judge or justicers hands, that dwelled thereabouts; And so never ceasing to sow sedition and breed suits amongst his neighbours, he never left till he had confounded and marred all. After this corruption or intrusion of law (they say) there ensued presently another mischief of worse consequence, by means of a Quacksalver, or Empirike Physician that dwelled amongst them, who would needs be married to one of their daughters, and so endenizon and settle himself amongst them. This gallant began first to teach and instruct them in the names of agewes, rheums and impostumes; then the situation of the heart, of the liver and other entrails: A Science until then never known or heard of among them. And in stead of garlic, wherewith they had learned to expel, and were wont to cure all diseases, of what quality and how dangerous soever they were, he induced and enured them, were it but for a cough or cold, to take strange compositions and potions: And thus began to traffic not only their health, but also their deaths. They swear, that even from that time, they have apparently perceived, that the evening Sereine or night-calme bred the headache and blasted them; that to drink being hot or in a sweat impaired their healths; that Autumn winds were more unwholesome and dangerous, than those of the Springe-time: And that since his slibber-sauces, potions and physic came first in use; they find themselves molested and distempered with Legions of unaccustomed maladies and unknown diseases; and plainly feel and sensibly perceive a general weakness and declination in their ancient vigour; and that their lives are nothing so long, as before they were. Lo here the first of my tales. The other is, that before I was troubled with the stone-chollicke and gravel in the bladder, hearing divers make especial account of a hee-goats blood, as of an heavenly Manna sent in these latter-ages for the good and preservation of man's life: and hearing men of good under standing speak of it, as of an admirable and much-good-working drug, and of an infallible operation: I, who have ever thought myself subject to all accidents, that may in any sort fall on man, being yet in perfect health, began to take pleasure to provide myself of this miracle, and forthwith gave order (according to the receipt) to have a Bucke-goate gotten, and carefully fed in mine own house. For the blood must be drawn from him in the hottest month of Summer, and he must only be fed with soluble herbs, and drink nothing but whitewine. It was my fortune to come to mine own house the very same day the Goat should be killed; where some of my people came in haste to tell me, that my Cook found two or three great bowls in his paunch, which in his maw amongst his meat shocked one against another. I was so curious as I would needs have all his garbage brought before me; the thick and large skin whereof I caused to be opened, out of which came three great lumps or bodies, as light as any sponge, so framed as they seemed to be hollow, yet outwardly hard and very firm, bemotled with diverse dead and wannish colours: The one perfectly as round as any bowl, the other two somewhat lesser, and not so round, yet seemed to grow towards it. I have found (after I had made diligent inquiry among such as were wont to open such beasts) that it was a seld-seen and unheard of accident. It is very likely they were such stones as ours be, and cozen-germanes to them; which if it be, it is but vain for such as be troubled with the stone or gravel to hope to be cured, by means of a beasts-blood, that was drawing near unto death, and suffered the same disease. For, to allege the blood cannot participate of that contagion', and doth no whit thereby alter his accustomed virtue, it may rather be inferred, that nothing engendereth in a body, but by consent and communication of all the parts. The whole mass doth work, and the whole frame agitate altogether, although one part, according to the diversity of operations, doth contribute more or less than another; whereby it manifestly appeareth, that in all parts of this bucke-goate, there was some grettie or petrificant quality. It was not so much for fear of any future chance, or in regard of myself, that I was so curious of this experiment; as in respect, that as well in mine own house, as elsewhere in sundry other places, it cometh to pass, that many women do often gather and lay up in store, diverse such kinds of slight drugs to help their neighbours, and other people with them, in time of necessity; applying one same remedy to an hundred several diseases: yea many times such as they would be very loath to take themselves; with which they often have good luck, and well thrives it with them. As for me I honour Physicians, not according to the common-received rule, for necessity sake (for to this passage another of the Prophet may be alleged, who reproved King Asa, because he had recourse unto Physicians) but rather for love I bear unto themselves; having seen some, and known divers honest men amongst them, and worthy all love and esteem. It is not them I blame, but their Art; yet do I not greatly condemn them for seeking to profit by our foolishness (for most men do so) and it is a thing common to all worldlings. Divers professious and many vacations, both more and less worthy than theirs, subsist and are grounded only upon public abuses and popular errors. I send for them when I am sick, if they may conveniently be found; and love to be entertained by them, rewarding them as other men do. I give them authority to enjoin me to keep myself warm, if I love it better so than otherwise. They may choose, be it either leeks or lettuce, what my broth shall be made withal, and appoint me either white or clarer to drink; and so of other things else, indifferent to my taste, humour or custom. I know well it is nothing to them, forsomuch as sharpness and Strangeness are accidents of Physics proper essence. Lycurgus' allowed and appointed the sick men of Sparta to drink wine. Why did he so? Because being in health, they hated the use of it. Even as a Gentleman who dwelleth not far from me, useth wine as a sovereign remedy againg agews, because being in perfect health, he hateth the taste thereof as death. How many of them see we to be of my humour? That is, to disdain all Physic for their own behoof, and live a kind of formal free life, and altogether contrary to that, which they prescribe to others? And what is that, but a manifest abusing of our simplicity? For, they hold their life as dear, and esteem their health as precious as we do ours, and would apply their effects to their skill, if themselves knew not the uncertainty and falsehood of it. It is the fear of pain and death; the impatience of the disease and grief; and indiscreet desire and headlong thirst of health, that so blindeth them, and us. It is mere faintness that makes our conceit; and pusillanimity forceth our credulity, to be so yielding and pliable. The greater part of whom do notwithstanding not believe so much, as they endure and suffer of others: For I hear them complain, and speak of it no otherwise than we do. Yet in the end are they resolved. What should I do then? As if impatience were in itself a better remedy than patience Is there any of them, that hath yielded to this miserable subjection, that doth not likewise yield to all manner of impostures? or doth not subject himself to the mercy of whomsoever hath the impudency to promise him recovery, and warrant him health? The Babylonians were wont to carry their sick people into the open streets; the common sort were their physicians: where all such as passed by were by humanity and civility to inquire of their state and malady, and according to their skill or experience, give them some ●ound advise and good counsel. We differ not greatly from them: There is no poor Woman so simple, whose mumbling and muttering, whose slibber-slabbers and drenches we do not employ. And as for me, were I to buy any medicine, I would rather spend my money in this kind of physic, than in any other; because therein is no danger or hurt to be feared. What Homer and Plato said of the Egyptians, that they were all Physicians, may well be said of all people. There is neither Man nor Woman, that vaunteth not himself to have some receipt or other, and doth not hazard the same upon his neighbour, if he will but give credit unto him. I was not long since in a company, where I wot not who of my fraternity, brought news of a kind of pills, by true account, composed of a hundred and odd several ingredients; Whereat we laughed very heartily, and made ourselves good sport: For, what rock so hard were able to resist the shock, or withstand the force of so thick and numerous a battery? I understand nevertheless, of such as took of them, that the least grain gravel dained not to stir at all. I cannot so soon give over writing of this subject, but I must needs say a word or two, concerning the experience they have made of their prescriptions, which they would have us take as a warrantise or assurance of the certainty of their drugs and potions. The greatest number, and as I deem, more than the two thirds of medicinable virtues, consist in the quintessence or secret propriety of simples, whereof we can have no other instruction but use and custom. For, Quintessence is no other thing than a quality, whereof we cannot with our reason find out the cause. In such trials or experiments, those which they affirm to have acquired by the inspiration of some Daemon, I am contented to receive and allow of them (for, touching miracles, I meddle not with them) or be it the experiments drawn from things, which for other respects fall often in use with us: As if in Wool, wherewith we want to clothe ourselves, some secret exsiccating or drying quality, have by accident been found, that cureth kibes or chilblains in the heels; and if in reddishes, we eat for nourishment, some opening or aperitive operation have been discovered. Galen reporteth, that a Leprous man chanced to be cured, by means of a Cup of Wine he had drunk, forsomuch as a Viper was by fortune fallen into the Wine cask. In which example we find the mean, and a very likely directory to this experience. As also in those, to which Physicians affirm, to have been addressed by the examples of some beasts. But in most of other experiences, to which they say they came by fortune, and had no other guide but hazard, I find the progress of this information incredible. I imagine man, heedfully viewing about him the infinite number of things, creatures, plants and metals. I wot not where to make him begin his Essay; And suppose he cast his first fantasy upon an Elkes-Horne, to which an easy and gentle credulity must be given; he will be as far to seek, and as much troubled in his second operation: So, many diseases and several circumstances are proposed unto him, that before he come to the certainty of this point, unto which the perfection of his experience should arrive, man's wit shall be to seek, and not know where to turn himself; And before (amidst this infinity of things) he find out what this Horn is: Amongst the numberless diseases that are, what an Epilepsy is; the sundry and manifold complexions in a melancholy man; So many seasons in Winter: So divers Nations amongst Frenchmen; So many ages in age; So divers celestial changes and alterations, in the conjunction of Venus and Saturn; So several and many parts in a man's body, nay in one of his fingers. To all which being neither guided by argument, nor by conjecture, nor by example, or divine inspiration, but by the one lie motion of fortune; it were most necessary, it should be by a perfectly artificial, well-ordred, and methodical fortune. Moreover, suppose the disease thoroughly cured, how shall he rest assured, but that either the evil was come to his utmost period, or that an effect of the hazard, caused the same health? Or the operation of some other thing, which that day he had either eaten, drunk or touched? or whether it were by the merit of his Grandmothers prayers? Besides, suppose this experiment to have been perfect, how many times was it applied and begun a new; And how often was this long and tedious web of fortunes and encounters woven over again, before a certain rule might be concluded? And being concluded, by whom is it I pray you? Amongst so many millions of men, you shall scarce meet with three or four, that well duly observe, and carefully keep a Register of their experiments; shall it be your, or his hap, to light truly, or hit just with one of them three or four? What if another man? Nay what if a hundred other men have had and made contrary experiments, and clean opposite conclusions, and yet have sorted well? We should peradventure discern some show of light, if all the judgements and consultations of men were known unto us. But That three Witnesses and three Doctors shall sway all mankind, there is no reason. It were requisite, human nature had appointed and made special choice of them and that by express procuration and letter of attorney they were by her declared our judges and deputed our Attorneys. To my Lady of Duras. Madam, the last time it pleased you to come and visit me, you found me upon this point. And because it may be, these toys of mine may happily come to your hands: I would have them witness, their Author reputeth himself highly honoured, for the favours it shall please you to show them. Wherein you shall discern the very same demeanour and selfe-countenance, you have seen in his conversasion. And could I have assumed unto myself any other fashion, than mine own accustomed, or more honourable and better form, I would not have done it: For, all I seek to reap by my writings, is, they will naturally represent and to the life, portray me to your remembrance. The very same conditions and faculties, it pleased your Ladyship to frequent and receive, with much more honour and courtesy, than they any way deserve, I will place and reduce (but without alteration and change) into a solid body, which may happily continue some days and years after me: Where, when soever it shall please you to refresh your memory with them, you may easily find them, without calling them to remembrance; which they scarcely deserve. I would entreat you to continue the favour of your Friendship towards me, by the same qualities, through whose means it was produced. I labour not to be beloved more and esteemed better being dead, than alive. The humour of Tiberius is ridiculous and common, who endeavoured more to extinguish his glory in future ages, than yield himself regardful and pleasing to men of his times. If I were one of those, to whom the World my be indebted for praise, I would quit it for the one moiety, on condition it would pay me beforehand: And that the same would hasten, and in great heaps environ me about, more thick than long, and more full than lasting. And let it hardly vanish with my knowledge, and when this sweet alluring sound shall no more tickle mine ears. It were a fond conceit, now I am ready to leave the commerce of men, by new commendations, to go about, anew to beget myself unto them. I make no account of goods, which I could not employ to the use of my life. Such as I am so would I be elsewhere then in Paper. Mine art and industry have been employed to make myself of some worth. My study and endeavour to do, and not to write. I have applied all my skill and devoir to frame my life. Lo-heere mine occupation and my work. I am a less maker of books, then of any thing else. I have desired and aimed at sufficiency, rather for the benefit of my present and essential commodities, then to make a Storehouse, and hoard it up for mine heirs. Whosoever hath any worth in him, let him show it in his behaviour, manners and ordinary discourses; be it to treat of love or of quarrels, of sport and play or bed-matters, at board or elsewhere; or be it in the conduct of his own affairs, or private household matters. Those whom I see make good books, having tattered hosen and ragged clothes on, had they believed me they should first have gotten themselves good clothes. Demand a Spartan, whether he would rather be a cunning Rhethorician, than an excellent Soldier: nay were I asked, I would say, a good Cook, had I not some to serve me. Good Lord (Madam) how I would hate such a commendation, to be a sufficient man in writing, and a foolish-shallow-headed brain or coxcomb in all things else: yet had I rather be a fool; both here and there, then to have made so bad a choice, wherein to employ my worth. So far am I also from expecting, by such trifles to gain new honour to myself: as I shall think I make a good bargain, if I lose not a part of that little, I had already gained. For, beside that this dumb and dead picture, shall derogate and steal from my natural being, it fadgeth not and hath no reference unto my better state, but is much fallen from my first vigour and natural jollity, inclining to a kind of drooping or mouldiness. I am now come to the bottom of the vessel, which beginneth to taste of his dregs and lees. Otherwise (good Madam) I should not have dared so boldly to have ripped up the mysteries of Physic, sick, considering the esteem and credit yourself, and so many others, ascribe unto it, and hold it in; had I not been directed thereunto by the authors of the same. I think they have but two ancient ones in Latin, to wit Pliny and Celsus. If you fortune at any time to look into them, you shall find them to speak much more rudely of their Art, than I do. I but pinch it gently, they cut the throat of it. Pliny amongst other things, doth much scoff at them, forsomuch as when they are at their wit's end, and can go no further, they have found out this goodly shift, to send their long-turmoiled, and to no end much tormented patient, with their drugs and diets, some to the help of their vows and miracles, and some others to hot Baths and waters. (Be not offended noble Lady, he meaneth not those on this side, under the protection of your house, and all Gramontoises.) They have a third kind of shift or evasion to shake us off and discharge themselves of the imputations or reproaches, we may justly charge them with, for the small amendment of our infirmities; whereof they have so long had the survey and government, as they have no more inventions or devises left them, to ammuse us with; that is, to send us, to seek and take the good air of some other Country. Madam, we have harped long enough upon one string; I hope you will give me leave to come to my former discourses again, from which for your better entertainment, I had somewhat digressed. It was (as far as I remember) Pericles, who being demanded, how he did; you may (said he) judge it by this, showing certain scrolls or briefs he had tied about his neck and arms. He would infer, that he was very sick, since he was forced to have recourse to such vanities, and had suffered himself to be so dressed. I affirm not, but I may one day be drawn to such fond opinions, and yield my life and health to the mercy, discretion and regiment of Physicians. I may happily fall into this fond madness; I dare not warrant my future constancy. And even then if any ask me how I do, I may answer him as did Pericles; You may judge, by showing my hands fraughted with six drams of Opium. It will be an evident token of a violent sickness. My judgement shall be exceedingly out of temper. If impatience or fear get that advantage upon me, you may thereby conclude some quelling fever hath seized upon my mind. I have taken the pains to plead this cause, whereof I have but small understanding, somewhat to strengthen and comfort natural propension, against the drugs and practice of our Physic, which is derived into me from mine ancestors: lest it might only be a stupid and rash inclination; and that it might have a little more form. and that also those, who see me so constant against the exhortations and threats, which are made against me, when sickness cometh upon me, may not think it to be a mere conceit, and simple wilfulness; And also, lest there be any so peevish, as to judge it to be some motive of vain glory. It were a strange desire, to seek to draw honour from an action, common both to me, to my Gardener, or to my Groom. Surely my heart is not so puffed up, nor so windy, that a solid, fleshy and marrowy pleasure, as health is; I should change it for an imaginary, spiritual and airy delight. Renown or glory (were it that of Aymons four sons) is over-deerely bought by a man of my humour, if it cost him but three violent fits of the colic. Give me health a God's name. Those that love our Physic, may likewise have their considerations good, great and strong. I hate no fantasies contrary to mine. I am so far from vexing myself, to see my judgement differ from other men's, or to grow incompatible of the society or conversation of men, to be of any other faction or opinion than mine own; that chose (as variety is the most general fashion that nature hath followed, and more in the minds, then in the bodies; forsomuch as they are of a more supple and yielding substance, and susceptible or admitting of forms) I find it more rare to see our humour or designs agree in one. And never were there two opinions in the world alike, no more than two hairs, or two grains. Diversity is the most universal quality. The end of the second Book. THE ESSAYS OR MORAL, POLITIC AND MILITARY Discourses Of LO. MICHAEL de Montaigne, Knight Of the noble Order of St. MICHAEL, and one of the Gentlemen in Ordinary of the French king HENRY the Third his Chamber. THE THIRD BOOK. 1613 THE ESSAYS OF MICHAEL Lord of Montaigne. The third Book. The first Chapter. Of profit and honesty. NO man living is free from speaking foolish things; the ill luck is, to speak them curiously: Naeiste magno conatu magnas nugas Ter. Heant. act. 4. see. 1. dixerit. This fellow sure with much a do, Will tell great tales and trifles too. That concerneth not me; mine slip from me with as little care, as they are of small worth: whereby they speed the better. I would suddenly quit them, for the least cost were in them: Nor do I buy, or sell them, but for what they weigh. I speak unto Paper, as to the first man I meet. That this is true, mark well what follows. To whom should not treachery be detestable, when Tiberius refused it on such great interest? One sent him word out of Germany, that if he thought it good, Ariminius should be made away by poison. He was the mightiest enemy the Romans had, who had so vilely ysed them under Varus, and who only impeached the increase of his domination in that country. His answer was; ●hat the people of Rome were accustomed to be revenged on their enemies by open courses, With weapons in hand; not by subtle steights, nor in bugger mugger: thus left he the profitable for the honest. He was (yond will say) a cosener. I believe it; that's no wonder in men of his profession. But the confession of virtue, is of no less consequence in his mouth that hateth the same, for so much as truth by force doth wrest it from him, and if he will not admit it in him, at least, to adorn himself, he will put it on. Our composition, both public and private, is full of imperfection; yet is there nothing in nature unserviceable, no not inutility itself; nothing thereof hath been insinuated in this huge universe, but holdeth some fit place therein. Our essence is symented with crazed qualities; ambition, jealousy, envy, revenge, superstition, despair, lodge in us, with so natural a possession, as their image is also discerned in beasts: yea and cruelty, so unnatural a vice: for in the midst of compassion, we inwardly feel a kind of bitter-sweetpricking of malicious delight, to see others suffer; and children feel it also: Suave mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis, Luer. l. 2. 1. Eterra magnum alterius spectare laborem. 'tis sweet on grand seas, when winds waves turmoil, From land to see an others grievous toil. The seed of which qualities, who should root out of man, should ruin the fundamental conditions of our life: In matter of policy likewise; some necessary functions are not only base, but faulty: vices find therein a seat, and employ themselves in the stitching up of our frame; as poisons in the preservation of our health. If they become excusable, because we have need of them, and that common necessity effaceth their true property; let us resign the acting of this part to hardy Citizens, who stick not to sacrifice their honours and consciences, as those of old, their lives, for their Country's avail and safety. We that are more weak, had best assume tasks of more ease and less hazard. The Commonwealth requireth some to betray, some to lie, and some to massacre: leave we that commission to people more obedient and more p●●able. Truly, I have often been vexed, to see our judges, by fraud or false hopes of favour or pardon, draw on a malefactor, to bewray his offence, employing therein both couzinage and impudency. It were fit for justice, and Plato himself, who favoureth this custom, to furnish me with means more suitable to my humour. 'tis a ●a●●cious justice, and in my conceit no less wounded by itself, then by others. I answered not long since, that hardly could I betray my Prince for a particular man, who should be very rysery to betray a particular man for my Prince. And loathe not only to deceive, but that 〈…〉 me; whereto I will neither furnish matter nor occasion. In that little business I have managed between our Princes, amid the divisions and subdivisions, which at 〈…〉 day so 〈…〉 and turn oil us, I have curiously eeded, that they mistake me not, nor 〈…〉 themselves in my mask. The professors of that trade hold themselves most covert; presending and 〈…〉 the greatest indifference and nearness to the cause they can. As for me, I offer myself in my liveliest reasons, in a form most mine own: A tender and young Negotiation, and who had rather fail in my business, then in myself. Yet hath this been ●ithetto with so good hap (for surely fortune is in these matters a principal actor) that few have dealt between party and party with less suspicion, and more inward favour. I have in all my proceedings an open fashion, easy to insinuate and give itself credit at first acquaintance. Sincerity, plainness, and naked truth, in what age so ever, find also their opportunity and employment. Besides, their liberty is little called in question, or subject to hate, who deal without respect of their own interest. And they may truly use the answer of 〈…〉 unto the Athenians, complaining of his bitter invectives and sharpness of his speech: Consider not, my masters whether I am free, but whether I be so, without taking aught, or better 〈…〉 my state by it. My liberty also hath easily discharged me from all suspicion of faintness, by its vigour (nor forbearing to speak any thing, though it bite or stung them; I could not have said worse in their absence) and because it carrieth an apparent show of simplicity and carelessness. I pretend no other fruit by negotiating, then to negotiate; and annex no long pursuits or propositions to it. Every action makes his particular game, win he if he can. Nor am I urged with the passion of love or hate unto great men; nor is my will shackled with anger, or particular respect. I regard our Kings with an affection simply lawful, and merely civil, neither moved nor unmooved by private interest: for which I like myself the better. The general and just cause binds me no more than moderately, and without violent fits. I am not subject to these piercing pledges and inward gauges. Choler and hate are beyond the duty of justice, and are passions fitting only those, whose reason is not sufficient to hold them to their duty: Vtatur motu animi, qui uti ratione non potest, Let him use the motion of his mind, that cannot use reason. All lawful intentions are of themselves temperate: if not, they are altered into seditious and unlawful. It is that makes me march every where with my head aloft, my face and heart open. Verily (and I fear not to avouch it) I could easily for a need, bring a candle to Saint Michael, and another to his Dragon, as the good old woman. I will follow the best side to the fire, but not into it, if I can choose. If need require, let Montaigne my Manor-house be swallowed up in the public ruin: but if there be no such necessity, I will acknowledge myself beholding unto fortune if she please to save it; and for its safety employ as much scope as my endeavours can afford me. Was it not A●●icus, who cleaving to the right (but losing side) saved himself by his moderation, in that general Ship●racke of the world, amidst so many changes and diverse alterations? To private men, such as he was, it is more easy. And in such kind of businesses, I think one dealeth justly, not to be too forward to insinuate or invite himself: To hold a staggering or middle course, to bear an unmoved affection, and without inclination in the troubles of his country, and public divisions, I deem neither seemly nor honest: Ea non media, sed nu●●a via est velut evenium expectantium, quo fortuna consilia sua applicent, That is not the midway, but a mid way, or no way, as of those that expect the event with intent to apply their designs as fortune shall fall out. That may be permitted in the affairs of neighbours. So did Gelon the tyrant of Siracusa suspend his inclination in the Barbarian wars against the greeks, keeping Ambassadors at Delphos, with presents, to watch on what side the victory would light, and to apprehend the fittest occasion of reconcilement with the victors. It were a kind of treason to do so in our own affairs and domestical matters, wherein of necessity one must resolve and take aside; but for a man that hath neither charge, nor express commandment to urge him; not to busy or intermeddle himself therein, I hold it more excusable; (Yet frame I not this excuse for myself) then in foreign and stranger's wars, wherewith according to our laws, no man is troubled against his will, Nevertheless those, who wholly engage themselves into them, may carry such an order and temper, as the storm (without offending them) may glide over their head, Had we not reason to hope as much of the deceased Bishop of Orleans, Lord of Moruillters? And I know some, who at this present worthily bestir themselves, in so even a fashion or pleasing a manner, that they are likely to continue on foot, whatsoever injurious alteration or fall, the heavens may prepare against us. I hold it only fit for Kings to he angry with Kings: And mock at those rash spirits, who from the bravery of their hearts offer themselves to so unproportionate quarrels. For one undertaketh not a particular quarrel against a Prince, in marching against him openly and courageously, for his honour, and according to his duty: If he love not such a man; he doth better; at least he esteemeth him. And the cause of laws especially, and defence of the ancient state, hath ever found this privilege, that such as for their own interest, disturb the same, excuse (if they honour not) their defenders. But we ought not term duty (as now a days we do) a sour rigour, and intestine crabbedness, proceeding of private interest and passion; nor courage a treacherous and malicious proceeding. Their disposition to frowardness and mischief, they entitle zeal: That's not the cause doth heat them, 'tis their own interest: They kindle a war, not because it is just, but because it is war. Why may not a man bear himself between enemies featly and faithfully? Do it, if not altogether with an equal (for it may admit different measure) at least with a sober affection, which may not so much engage you to the one, that he look for all at your hands. Content yourself with a moderate proportion of their favour, and to glide in troubled waters without fishing in them. Th'other manner of offering ones uttermost endeavours to both sides, implieth less diseration than conscience. What knows he, to whom you betray another, as much your friend as himself, but you will do the like for him, when his turn shall come. He takes you for a villain; that whilst he hears you, and gathers out of you; and makes his best use of your disloyalty: For, double fellows are only beneficial in what they bring, but we must look, they carry away as little as may be. I carry nothing to the one, which I may not (having opportunity) say unto the other, the accent only changed a little: and report either but indifferent or known, or common things▪ No benefit can induce me to lie unto them; what is entrusted to my silence I conceal religiously, but take as little in trust as I can▪ Princes secrets are a troublesome charge, to such as have nought to do with them. I ever by my good will capitulate with them, that they trust me with very little; but let them assuredly trust what I disclose unto them. I always knew more than I would. An open speech opens the way to another, and draws all out, even as Wive, and love. Philippides in my mind, answered king Lysi●●achus wisely, when he demanded of him; what of his wealth or state he should empare unto him; Which and what you please (quoth he) so it be not your secrets. I see every one mutiny, if another conceal the depth or mystery of the affairs from him, wherein he pleaseth to employ him, or have but purloined any circumstance from him. For my part, I am content one tell me no more of his business than he will have me know or deal in, nor desire I, that my knowledge exceed or strain my word. If I must needs be the instrument of cozinage, it shall at least be with safety of my conscience. I will not be esteemed a servant, nor so affectionate, nor yet so faithful, that I be judged fit to betray any man. Who is unfaithful to himself, may be excused if he be faithless to his Master. But Princes entertain not men by halves, and despise bounded and condicional service. What remedy? I freely tell them my limits; for, a slave ● must not be but unto reason; which yet I cannot compass: And they are to blame; to exact from a free man, the like subjection unto their service, and the same obligation, which they may from those they have made and bought; and whose fortune dependeth particularly and expressly on theirs. The laws have delivered me from much trouble: they have chosen me aside to follow, and appointed me a master to obey: all other superiority and duty, aught to be relative unto that and be restrained. Yet may it not be concluded, that if my affection should otherwise transport me, I would presently afford my helping hand unto it. Will and desires are a law to themselves, actions are to receive it of public institutions: All these proceedings of mine, are some what dissonant from our forms. They should produce no great effects, nor hold out long among us. innocency itself could not in these times nor negotiate without dissimulation, nor traffic without lying. Neither are public functions of my diet; what my profession requires thereto, I furnish in the most private manner I can. Being a child, I was plunged into them up to the ears, and had good success; but I got loose in good time. I have often since shunned meddling with them, seldom accepted and never required; ever holding my back toward ambition; but if not rowers, who go forward as it were backward; Yet so, as I am less beholding to my resolution, then to my good fortune, that I was not wholly embarked in them. For, there are courses less against my taste, and more comfortable to my carriage, by which if here tofore it had called me to the service of the commonwealth, and my advancement unto credit in the world; I know that in following the same I had exceeded the reason of my couceite. Those which commonly say against my procession, that what I term liberty, simplicity and plainness in my behaviour, is art, cunning and subtlety: and rather discretion, than goodness; industry then nature; good wit, then good hap; do me more honour than shame. But truly they make my cunning overcunning. And whosoever hath traced me and nearly looked into my humours, lie lose a good wager if he confess not, that there is no rule in their school, could, a mid such crooked paths and diverse windings, square and raport this natural motion, and maintain an appearance of liberty and licence, so equal and inflexible; and that all their attention and wit, is not of power to bring them to it. The way to truth is but one and simple; that of particular profit and benefit of affairs a man hath in charge, double, uneven and accidental. I have often seen these counterfeit 〈…〉 artificial liberties in practice, but most commonly without success. They savour of Aesopes. Ass; who in emulation of the dog, laid his two forefeet very jocundly upon his masters shoulders; but look how many blandishments the pretty dog received, under one, so many bastinadoes were redoubled upon the poor Asles back. Id maxime quemque decet; quod est cuiusque suum Cic. off. l. 1. maxim: that becomes every man especially, which is his own especially: I will not deprive cozenage of her rank that were to understand the world but ill: I know it hath often done profitable service, it supporteth, yea and nourisheth the greatest part of men's vacations. There are some lawful vices; as many-actions, or good or excusable unlawful. justice in itself natural and universall is otherwise ordered, and more nobly distributed, than this other especial, and national justice, restrained and suited to the need of our policy: Veri juris germanaeque justitiae solidam et expressam effigiem nullam tenemus; umbra Cic. off. l. 3. & imaginibus utimur. We have no lively nor life-like purtrature of upright law and natural justice: we use but the shadows and colours of them. So that wise Dandamies, hearing the lives of Socrates, Pythagoras and Diogenes repeated, in other things, judged them great and worthy men, but overmuch subjecteth to the reverence of the laws: which to authorize and second, true virtue is to decline very much from his natural vigour: and not only by their permission, but persuasions diverse vicious actions are committed and take place. Ex Senatus consultis plobisque scitis scelera exercentur. Even by decrees of counsel, and by statute-lawes are mischiefs put in practice. I follow the common phrase, which makes a difference between profitable and honest things; terming some natural actions which are not only profitable but necessary, dishonest and filthy. But to continue our examples of treason. Two which aspired unto the kingdom of Thrace, were fallen into controversy for their right. The Emperor hindered them from falling together by the ears: the one under colour of contriving some friendly accord by an interview inviting the other to a feast in his house, imprisoned and murdered him. justice required, that the Romans should be satisfied for this outrage: some difficulties impeached the ordinary course. What they could not lawfully do without war and hazard, they attempted to accomplish by treason: what they could not honestly archieue, they profitably compassed. For exploiting whereof, Pomponius Flaccus was thought most fit: who training the fellow into his Nets by feigned words and sugared aslurances; in lieu of the favour and honour he promised him, sent him bound hand and foot to Rome. One traitor overreached another, against common custom: For, they are all full of distrust, and 'tis very hard to surprise them in their own art: witness the heavy and dismal experience we have lately felt of it. Let who list be Pomponius Flaccus; and there are tootoo many that will be so. As for my part, both my word and faith, are as the rest; pieces of this common body: their best effect is the public service: that's ever presupposed with me. But as, if one should command me to take the charge of the Rolls or Records of the Palace, I would answer: I have no skill in them: or to be a leader of pioneers, I would say; I am called to a worthier office: Even so, who would go about to employ me, not to murder or poison, but to lie, betray, and forswear myself, I would tell him; If I have robbed or stolen any thing from any man, send me rather to the Galleys. For, a Gentleman may lawfully speak as did the Lacedæmonians, defeated by Antipater, upon the points of their agreement: You may impose as heavy burdens, and harmful taxes upon us as you please; but you lose your time, to command us any shameful or dishonest things. Every man should give himself the oath, which the Egyptian Kings, solemnly and usually presented to their judges; Not to serve from their consciences, what command soever they should receive from themselves to the contrary. In such commissions there is an evident note of ignominy and condemnation. And whosoever gives them you, accuseth you; and if you conceive them right, gives you them as a trouble and burden. As much as the public affairs amend by your endeavours, your own empaireth: the better you do, so much the worse do you. And it shall not be new, nor peradventure without shadow of justice, that he who setteth you a work, becometh your ruin. If treason be in any case excusable, it is only then, when 'tis employed to punish and betray treason. We shall find many treacheries, to have been not only refused, but punished by them, in whose favour they were under taken. Who knows not the sentence of Fabritius, against Pyrrus his Physician? And the commander hath often severely revenged them on the partic he employed in them, refusing so unbridled a credit and power, and disavowing so lewd and so vile an obedience. jaropelc Duke of Russia, solicited an Hungarian Gentleman, to betray Bol●slaus King of Polonia, in contriving his death, or furnishing the Russians with means to work him some notable mischief. This gallant, presently bestirs him in it, and more than ever applying himself to the King's service obtained to be of his counsel, and of those he most trusted. By which advantages, and with the opportunity of his masters absence, he betrayed Vicilicia, a great and rich city to the Russians: which was wholly sacked and burnt by them, with a general slaughter, both of the inhabitants, of what sex or age soever, and a great number of nobility there about, whom to that purpose he had assembled. jaropelc his anger thus assuaged with revenge, and his rage mitigated (which was not without pretext, for Bol●slaus had mightily wronged and in like manner incensed him) and glutted with the fruit of treason, examining the ugliness thereof, naked and alone, and with impartial eyes beholding the same, not distempered by passion, conceived such a remorse, and took it so to hart, that he forthwith caused the eyes of his instrumental executioner to be pulled out, and his tongue and privy parts to be cut of. Antigonus persuaded the Argyraspides soldiers, to betray Eumenes their general, and his adversary, unto him, whom when they had delivered, and he had caused to be slain; himself desired to be the Commissary of divine justice, for the punishment of so detestable a treachery: and resigning them into the hands of the Governor of the Province, gave him express charge, in what manner soever it were, to rid himself of them, and bring them to some mischievous end. Whereby, of that great number they were, not one ever after saw the smoke of Macedon. The better they served hit turn, the more wicked he judged them, and the more worthy of punishment. The slave that betrayed the corner wherein his master P. Sulpicius lay hid, was set at liberty, according to the promise of Sulla's proscription: But according to the promise of common reason, being freed, he was thrown headlong from off the Tarpeian rock. And Clovis King of France, in lieu of the goldenarmes he had promised the three servants of Cannacre, caused them to be hanged, after they had by his solicitation betrayed their master unto him. They hang them up with the purse of their reward about their necks. Having sasatisfied their second and special faith, they also satisfy the general and first. Mahomet the second, desirous to rid himself of his brother (through jealousy of rule, and according to the style of that race) employed one of his officers in it; who stifled him, by much water powered down his throat all at once: which done, in expiation of the fact, he delivered the murderer into the hands of his brother's mother (for they were brethren but by the father's side) she, in his presence, opened his bosom, and with her own revenging hands searching for his heart, plucked it out, and cast it unto dogs to eat. Even unto vile dispositions (having made use of a filthy action) it is so sweet and pleasing, if they may with seeuritie, as it were, in way of recompense and holy correction, sow one sure stitch of goodness, and justice unto it. Besides; they respect the ministers of such horrible crimes, as people, that still upbraid them with them, and covet by their deaths to smother the knowledge, and cancel the testimony of their practices. Now if perhaps, not to frustrate the public need of that last and desperate remedy, one reward you for it: yet, he who doth it (if he be not as bad himself) will hold you a most accursed and execrable creature. And deemeth you a greater traitor, than he whom you have betrayed: for with your own hands, he toucheth the lewdness of your disposition, without disavowing, without object. But employeth you, as we do outcast persons in the executions of justice: an office as profitable as little honest. Besides the baseness of such commissions, there is in them a prostitution of conscience. The daughter of Sejanus, could not in Rome, by any true formal course of law, be put to death, because she was a virgin: that laws might have their due course, she was first deflowered by the common hangman, and then strangled. Not his hand only, but his soul is a slave unto public commodity. When Amurath the first, to aggravate the punishment of his subjects, who had given support unto his sons unnatural rebellion, appointed their nearest kinsmen to lend their hands unto this execution: I find it very honest in some of them, who rather chose unjustly to be held guilty of another's parricide, then to serve justice with their own. And whereas in some paltry towns forced in my time, I have seen base varlets for safeguard of their own lives, yield to hang their friends and companions, I ever thought them of worse condition, than such as were hanged. It is reported, that Witoldus Prince of Lituania, introduced an order with that nation, which was that the party condemned to die, should with his own hands make himself away; finding it strange, that a third man being guiltless of the fact, should be employed and charged to commit a murder. When an urgent circumstance, or any violent and unexpected accident, induceth a Prince for the necessity of his estate, or as they say for state matters, to break his word and faith, or otherwise forceth him out of his ordinary duty, he is to ascribe that necessity unto a lash of God's rod: It is no vice, for he hath quit his reason, unto a reason more public, and more powerful, but surely 'tis ill fortune. So that to one, who asked me what remedy? I replied, none; were he truly racked between these two extremes (Sed videat ne quaeratur latebra periurio. But let him take heed he seek not a starting hole for perjury) he must have done it; Cic. off. l. 3. but if he did it sans regret or scruple, if it grieved him not to do it, 'tis an argument his conscience is but in ill terms. Now were there any one of so tender or chevril a conscience, to whom no cure might seem worthy of so extreme a remedy: I should prize or regard him no whit the less. He cannot lose himself more handsomely nor more excusable. We cannot do every thing, nor be in every place. When all is done, thus and thus, must we often, as unto our last Anchor and sole refuge, resign the protection of our vessellunto the only conduct of heaven. To what juster necessity can he reserve himself? What is less possible for him to do, than what he cannot effect, without charge unto his faith, and imputation to his honour? things which peradventure should be dearer to him, than his own salvation, and the safety of his people. When with enfoulded arms he shall devoutly call on God for his aid, may he not hope, that his fatherly mercy shall not refuse the extraordinary favour, and sinne-forgiving grace of his all powerful hand, unto a pure and righteous hand? They are dangerous exemples, rare and crazed exceptions to our natural rules: we must yield unto them, but with great moderation, and heedy circumspection. No private commodity, may any way deserve we should offer our conscience this wrong the commonwealth may, when it is most apparent and important. Timoleon did fitly warrant and ward the strangeness of his exploit by the tears he shed, remembering it was with a brotherly hand he slew the tyrant, And it nearly pinched his selfe-gnawne conscience, that he was compelled to purchase the common good, at the rate of his honesty. The sacred Senate itself, by his means delivered from thraldom, durst not definitively decide of so haughty an action, and rend in two so urgent and different semblances. But the Siracusans having opportunelie and at that very instant sent to the Corinthians, to require their protection, and a governor able to re-establish their town in former majesty, and deliver Sicily from a number of petty tyrants, which greevoushe oppressed the same: they appointed Timoleon, with this new caucat and declaration: That according as he should well or ill demean himself in his charge, their sentence should incline, either to grace him as the redeemer of his country, or disgrace him, as the murderer of his brother. This fantastical conclusion, hath some excuse upon the danger of the example, and importance of an act so different. and they did well, to discharge their judgement of it, or to embark him some where else, and on their considerations Now the proceedings of Timoleon in his renowned journey did soon yield his cause the clearer, so worthily and virtuously did he every way bear himself therein. And the good hap, which ever accompanied him in the encumbrances and difficulties he was to subdue in the achievement of his noble enterprise, seemed to be sent him by the Gods, conspiring to second, and consenting to favour his justification: This man's end is excusable, if ever any could be. But the increase and profit of the public revenues, which served the Roman Senate for a pretext of the ensuing-foule conclusion I purpose to relate, is not of sufficient force to warrant such injustice. Certain cities had by the order and permission of the Senate, with money purchased their liberty, at the hands of L. Sylla. The matter coming in question again, the Senate condemned them, to be finable and taxed as before: and the money they had employed for their ransom, should be deemed as lost and forfeited. Civil wars do often produce such enormous examples: That we punish private men, for somuch as they have believed us, when we were other then now we are. And one same magistrate doth lay the penalty of his change on such as cannot do withal. The Schoolmaster whippeth his scholar for his docility, and the guide streeketh the blind man he leadeth. A horrible image, of justice. Some rules in Philosophy are both false and faint. The example proposed unto us, of respecting private utility before faith given, hath not sufficient power by the circumstance they add unto it. thieves have taken you, and on your oath to pay them a certain sum of money, have set you at liberty again: They err, that say, an honest man is quit of his word and faith without paying, being out of them hands; There is no such matter, What fear and danger hath once forced me to will and consent unto, I am bound to will and perform boing out of danger and fear. And although it have but forced my tongue, and not my will, yet am I bound to make my word good, and keep my promise. For my part, when it hath sometimes unadvisedly overrun my thought, yet have I made a conscience to disavow the same. Otherwise we should by degrees come to abolish all the right a third man taketh and may challenge of our promises. Quasi verò forti viro vis possit adhiberi. Cic. off. l. 3. As though any force could be used upon a valiant man, 'tis only lawful for our private interest to excuse the breach of promise, if we have rashly promised things in themselves wicked and unjust. For, the right of virtue ought to overrule the right of our bond. I have heretofore placed Fpaminondas in the first rank of excellent men, and now recant it not. Unto what high pitch raised he the consideration of his particular duty? who never slew man he had vanquished; who for that unvaluable good of restoring his country her liberty, made it a matter of conscience, to murder a Tyrant or his complices, without a due and formal course of law: and who judged him a bad man, how good a citizen soever, that amongst his enemies and in the fury of a battle, spared not his friend, or his host. Loc here a mind of a rich composition. He matched unto the most violent and rude actions of men, goodness and courtesy, yea and the most choice and delicate, that may be found in the school of Philosophy. This so high-raised courage, so swelling and so obstinate against sorrow, death and poverty, was it nature or art, made it relent, even to the utmost strain of exceedeng tenderness and debonaretie of complexion? Being clothed in the dreadful livery of steel and blood, he goeth on crushing and bruising a nation, invincible to all others, but to himself: yet mildly relenteth in the midst of a combat or confusion, when he meets with his host or with his friend. Verily, this man was deservedly fit to command in war, which in the extremest fury of his innated rage, made him to feel the sting of courtesy, and remorse of gentleness: then when all inflamed, it foamed with fury, and burned with murder. 'tis a miracle, to be able to join any show of justice with such actions. But it only belongeth to the unmatched courage of Epaminondas, in that confused plight, to join mildness and facility of the most gentle behaviour that ever was, unto them, yea and pure innocency itself. And whereas one told the Mamertins, that statutes were of no force against armed men: another to the Tribune of the people, that the time of justice and war, were two: a third, that the confused noise of war and clang of arms, hindered him from understanding the sober voice of the laws: This man was not so much as impeached from conceiving the mild sound of civility and kindness. Borrowed he of his enemies the custom of sacrificing to the Muses (when he went to the wars) to qualify by their sweetness and mildness, that martial fury, and hostile surliness? Let us not fear, after so great a master, to hold that some things are unlawful, even against our fellest enemies: that public interest, ought not to challenge all of all, against private interest: Manente memoria etiam in dissidio publicorum foederum privati juris: Some memory of private right continuing even in disagreement of public contracts. — & nulla potentia vires ovid. Punt. l. 1. ●l. 8. 37. Praestandi, ne quid peccet amicus, habet: No power hath so great might, To make friends still go right. And that all things be not lawful to an honest man, for the service of his King, the general cause and defence of the laws. Non enim patria praestat omnibus officijs, & ipsi conducit pios habere cives Cic. off. l. 3. in parents. For our country is not above all other duties; it is good for the country to have her inhabitants use piety toward their parents. 'tis an instruction befitting the times: we need not harden our courages with these plates of iron and steel; it sufficeth our shoulders be armed with them: it is enough to dip our pens in ink, too much, to die them in blood. If it be greatness of courage, and th' effect of a rare and singular virtue, to neglect friendship, despise private respects and bonds; ones word and kindred, for the common good and obedience of the Magistrate: it is verily able to excuse us from it, if we but allege, that it is a greatness unable to lodge in the greatness of Epaminondas his courage. I abhor the enraged admonitions of this other unruly spirit. - dum tela micant, non vos pietatis imago Luan. l. 7. 320. Caes. Vlla, nec adversa conspect● front parents Commoveant, vult us gladio turbante verendos. While swords are brandished, let no show of grace Once move you, nor your parent's face to face, But with your swords disturb their reverend grace. Let us bereave wicked, bloody and traitorous dispositions, of this pretext of reason: leave we that impious and exorbitant justice, and adhere unto more human imitations, Oh what may time and example bring to pass! In an encounter of the civil wars against Cinna, one of Pompey's soldiers, having unwittingly slain his brother, who was on the other side, through shame and sorrow presently killed himself; And some years after, in another civil war of the said people, a soldier boldly demanded a reward of his Captains for killing his own brother. Falsely do we argue honour, and the beauty of an action, by its profit: and conclude as ill, to think every one is bound unto it, and that it is honest, if it be commodious. Omnia non pariter rerum sunt omnibus apta. Prop. l. 3. el. 8. 7 All things alike to all Do not well-fitting fall. Choose we out the most necessary and most beneficial matter of human society, it will be a marriage: yet is it, that the Saints counsel findeth and deemeth the contrary side more honest, excluding from it the most reverend vocation of men: as we to our races assign such beasts as are of least esteem. The second Chapter. Of Repenting. OThers fashion man, I repeat him; and represent a particular one, but ill made; and whom were I to form a new, he should be far other than he is; but he is now made. And though the lines of my picture change and vary, yet lose they not themselves. The world runs all on wheels: All things therein move without intermission; yea the earth, the rocks of Caucasus, and the Pyramids of Egypt, both with the public and their own motion. Constancy itself is nothing but a languishing and wavering dance. I cannot settle my object; it goeth so unquietly and staggering, with a natural drunkenness. I take it in this plight, as it is at th'instant I ammuse myself about it. I describe not the essence, but the passage; not a passage from age to age, or as the people reckon, from seven years to seven, but from day to day, from minute to minute. My history must be fitted to the present. I may soon change, not only fortune, but intention. It is a counter-roule of diverse and variable accidents, and irresolute imaginations, and sometimes contrary: whether it be that myself am other, or that I apprehend subjects, by other circumstances and considerations. Howsoever, I may perhaps gain say myself, but truth (as Demades said) I never gainsay: Were my mind settled, I would not essay, but resolve myself. It is still a Prentice and a probationer. I propose a mean life, and without lustre: 'tis all one. They fasten all moral Philosophy as well to a popular and private life, as to one of richer stuff. Every man beareth the whole stamp of human condition. Authors communicate themselves unto the world by some special and strange mark; I the first, by my general disposition; as Michael de Montaigne; not as a Grammarian, or a Poet, or a Lawyer. If the world complain, I speak too much of myself, I complain, it thinks no more of itself. But is it reason, that being so private in use, I should pretend to make myself public in knowledge? Or is it reason, I should produce into the world, where fashion and art have such sway and command, the raw and simple effects of nature; and of a nature as yet exceeding weak? To write books without learning, is it not to make a wall without stone or such like thing? Conceits of music are directed by art; mine by hap. Yet have I this according to learning, that never man handled subject, he understood or knew, better than I do this I have undertaken; being therein the cunningest man alive. Secondly, that never man waded further into his matter, nor more distinctly sifted the parts and dependences of it, nor arrived more exactly and fully to the end he proposed unto himself. To finish the same, I have need of nought but faithfulness: which is therein as sincere and pure as may be found. I speak truth, not my bellyful, but as much as I dare; and I dare the more, the more I grow into years: for it seemeth, custom alloweth old age more liberty to babbell, and indiscretion to talk of itself. It cannot herein be, as in trades; where the craftsman and his work do often differ. Being a man of so sound and honest conversation, write he so foolishly? Are such learned writings come from a man of so weak a conversation? who hath but an ordinary conceit, and writeth excellently, one may say his capacity is borrowed, not of himself. A skilful man, is not skilful in all things: But a sufficient man, is sufficient every where, even unto ignorance. here my book and myself march together, and keep one pace. Elsewhere one may commend or condemn the work, without the workman; here not: who toucheth one, toucheth the other. He who shall judge of it without knowing him, shall wrong himself more than me: he that knows it, hath wholly satisfied me. Happy beyond my merit, If I get this only portion of public approbation, as I may cause men of understanding to think, I had been able to make use and benefit of learning, had I been endowed with any: and deserved better help of memory. excuse we here what I often say, that I seldom repent myself, and that my conscience is contented with itself; not of an Angels or a horse's conscience, but as of a man's conscience. Adding ever this clause, not of ceremony, but of true and essential submission; that I speak enquiring and doubting, merely and simply referring myself, from resolution, unto common and lawful opinions. I teach not; I report: No vice is absolutely vice, which offendeth not, and a sound judgement accuseth not: For, the deformity and incommodity thereof is so palpable, as peradventure they have reason, who say, it is chiefly produced by sottishness and brought forth by ignorance; so hard is it, to imagine one should know it without hating it. Malice sucks up the greatest part of her own venom, and therewith empoisoneth herself. Vice, leaveth, as an ulcer in the flesh, a repentance in the soul, which still scratcheth, and bloodieth itself. For reason effaceth other griefs and sorrows, but engendereth those of repentance: the more irksome, because inward: As the cold and heat of agues is more offensive than that which comes outward. I account vice (but each according to their measure) not only those which reason disalowes, and nature condemns, but such as man's opinion bathe forged as false and erroneous, if laws and custom authorize the same. In like manner there is not goodness but gladdeth an honest disposition. There is truly I wot not what kind or congratulation, of well doing, which rejoiceth in ourselves, and a generous jollity, that accompanieth a good conscience. A mind courageously vicious, may happily furnish itself with security, but she cannot be fraught, with this selfe-joining delight and satisfaction. It is no small pleasure, for one to feel himself preserved from the contagion of an age so infected as ours, and to say to himself; could a man enter and see even into my soul, yet should he not find me guilty, either of the affliction or ruin of any body, nor culpable of envy or revenge, nor of public offence against the laws, nor tainted with innovation, trouble or sedition; nor spotted with falsifying of my word; and although the liberty of times allowed and taught it every man, yet could I never be induced to touch the goods or dive into the purse of any French man; and have always lived upon mine own, as well in time of war, as of peace: nor did I ever make use of any pooremans' labour, without reward. These testimonies of an unspotted conscience are very pleasing, which natural joy is a great benefit unto us; and the only payment never faileth us. To ground the recompense of virtuous actions, upon the approbation of others, is to undertake a most uncertain or troubled foundation, namely in an age so corrupt and times so ignorant, as this is: the vulgar people's good opinion is injurious. Whom trust you in seeing what is commendable; God keep me from being an honest man, according to the description I daily see made of honour, each one by himself. Quae fuerant vitia, mores sunt. What erst were vices, are now grown fashious. Some of my friends, have sometimes attempted to school me roundly, and sift me plainly, either of their own motion, or envited by me, as to an office, which to a well composed mind, both in profit and lovingness, exceedeth all the duties of sincere amity. Such have I ever entertained with open arms of courtesy, and kind acknowledgement. But now to speak from my conscience, I often found so much false measure in their reproaches and praises, that I had not greatly erred if I had rather erred, then done well after their fashion. Such as we especially, who live a private life not exposed to any gaze but our own, ought in our hearts establish a touchstone, and thereto touch our deeds and try our actions; and accordingly, now cherish, and now chastise ourselves. I have my own laws and tribunal, to judge of me, whether I address myself more than any where else. I restrain my actions according to other, but extend them according to myself. None but yourself knows rightly whether you be demisse and cruel, or loyal and devout. Others see you not, but guess you by uncertain conjectures: They see not so much your nature, as your art. Adhere not then to their opinion, but hold unto your own. Tuo tibi judicio est utendum. Virtutis & viciorum grave ipsius conscientiae pondus Cic. Nat. Deor. L. 3. est: qua sublata jacent omnia; You must use your own judgement: The weight of the very conscience of vice and virtues is heavy: take that away, and all is down. But where as it is said, that repentance nearly followeth sin, seemeth not to emplye sin placed in his rich array, which lodgeth in us as in his proper mansion. One may disavow and disclaim vices, that surprise us, and whereto our passions transport us: but those, which by long habit are rooted in a strong, and ankred in a powerful will, are not subject to contradiction. Repentance is but a denying of our will, and an opposition of our fantasies which diverts us here and there. It makes some disavow his former virtue and continency. Quae mens est hody, cur eadem non puero fuit, Hor. car. l. 4. od. 10 7. Vel cur his animis incolumes non redeunt genae? Why was not in a youth same mind as now? Or why bears not this mind a youthful brow? That is an exquisite life, which even in his own private keepeth itself in awe and order. Every one may play the juggler, and represent an honest man upon the stage; but within, and in bosom, where all things are lawful, where all is concealed; to keep a due rule or formal decorum, that's the point. The next degree, is to be so in ones own home, and in his ordinary actions, whereof we are to give account to no body: wherein is no study, nor art, And therefore Bias describing the perfect state of a family, whereof (saith he) the master, be such inwardly by himself, as he is outwardly, for fear of the laws, and respect of men's speeches. And it was a worthy saying of julius Drusus, to those workmen, which for three thousand crowns, offered so to reform his house, that his neighbours should no more over look into it: I will give you six thousand (said he) and contrive it so, that on all sides every man may look into it. The custom of Agesilaus is remembered with honour, who in his travail was wont to take up his lodging in churches, that the people, and Gods themselves might pry into his private actions. Some have been admirable to the world, in whom nor his wife, nor his servant ever noted any thing remarkable. Few men have been admired of their familiars. No man hath been a Prophet, not only in his house, but in his own country, saith the experience of histories. Even so in things of nought. And in this base example, is the image of greatness discerned. In my climate of Gascoigne they deem it a jest to see me in print. The further the knowledge which is taken of me is from my home, of so much more worth am I. In Guienne I pay Printers; in other places they pay me. Upon this accident they ground, who living and present keep close-lurking, to purchase credit when they shall be dead and absent. I had rather have less. And I cast not myself into the world, but for the portion I draw from it. That done, I quit it. The people attend on such a man with wonderment, from a public act, unto his own doors: together with his robes he leaves-of his part; falling so much the lower, by how much higher he was mounted. View him within, thereall is turbulent, disordered and vile. And were order and formality found in him, a lively, impartial and well sorted judgement is required, to perceive and fully to discern him in these base and private actions. Considering that order is but a dampish and drowsy virtue: To gain a Battle, perform an embassage, and govern a people, are noble and worthy actions; to chide, laugh, sell, pay, love, hate, and mildly and justly to converse both with his own and with himself; not to relent, and not gainsay himself, are things more rare, more difficult and less remarkable. Retired lives sustain that way, what ever some say, offices as much more crabbed, and extended, than other lives do. And private men (saith Aristotle) serve virtue more hardly, and more highly attend her, than those which are magistrates or placed in authority. We prepare ourselves unto eminent occasions, more for glory then for conscience. The nearest way to come unto glory, were to do that for conscience, which we do for glory. And me seemeth the virtue of Alexander representeth much less vigour in her large Theatre, then that of Socrates, in his base and obscure excercitation. I easily conceive Socrates, in the room of Alexander; Alexander in that of Socrates I cannot. If any ask the one, what he can do, he will answer, Conquer the world; let the same question be demanded of the other, he will say, lead my life conformably to it's natural condition; A science much more generous, more important, and more lawful. The worth of the mind consisteth not in going high, but in marching orderly. Her greatness is not exercised in greatness; in mediocritye it is. As those, which judge and touch us inwardly, make no great account of the brightness of our public actions; and see they are but streaks and points of clear Water, surging from a bottom, otherwise slimy and full of mud: So those who judge us by this gay outward appearance, conclude the same of our inward constitution, and cannot couple popular faculties as theirs are, unto these other faculties, which amaze them so far from their level. So do we attribute savage shapes and ugly forms unto devils. As who doth not ascribe high-raised eyebrows, open nostrils, a stern frightful visage, and a huge body unto Tamburlaine, as is the form or shape of the imagination we have fore-conceived by the bruit of his name? Had any heretofore showed me Erasmus, I could hardly had been induced to think, but whatsoever he had said to his boy or hosts, had been Adages and Apothegms. We imagine much more fitly an Artificer upon his close stool or on his wife, than a great judge, reverend for his carriage and regardful for his sufficiency; we think, that from those high thrones they should not abase themselves so low, as to live. As vicious minds are often incited to do well by some strange impulsion, so are virtuous spirits moved to d●e ill. They must then be judged by their settled estate, when they are near themselves, and as we say, at home, if at any time they be so; or when they are nearest unto rest, and in their natural seat. Natural inclinations are by institution helped and strengthened, but they neither change nor exceed. A thousand natures in my time, have a thwart, a contrary discipline, escaped toward virtue or toward vice. Sic ubi desuetae siluis in carcere clausae, Lucan. l. 4. 237. Mansueuére ferae, & vultui posuere minaces, Atque hominem dedicere pati, si torrida parvus Venit in or a cruor, redeunt rabiesque furorque, Admonitaeque tument gustato sanguine fauces, Feruet, & à trepido vix abstinet it a magistro. So when wild beasts, disused from the wood, Fierce looks laide-downe, grow tame, closed in a cage, Taught to bear man, if then a little blood Touch their hot lips, fury returns and rage; Their jaws by taste admonished swell with veins, Rage boils, and from faint keeper scarce abstains. These original qualities are not grubd out, they are but covered, and hidden: The Latin tongue is to me in a manner natural; I understand it better than French; but it is now forty years, I have not made use of it to speak, nor much to write: yet in some extreme emotions and sudden passions, wherein I have twice or thrice fallen, since my years of discretion; and namely once, when my father being in perfect health, fell all along upon me in a swoon, I have ever, even from my very hart uttered my first words in latin: Nature rushing and by force expressing itself, against so long a custom; the like example is alleged of divers others. Those which in my time, have attempted to correct the fastions of the world by new opinions, reform the vices of appearance; those of essence they leave untouched if they increase them not: And their increase is much to be feared. We willingly protract all other well-doing upon these external reformations, of less cost, and of greater merit; whereby we satisfy good-cheape, other natural consubstantial and intestine vices. Look a little into the course of our experience. There is no man (if he listen to himself) that doth not discover in himself a peculiar form of his, a swaieng form, which wrestleth against the institution, and against the tempests of passions, which are contrary unto him. As for me, I feel not myself much agitated by a shock; I commonly find myself in mine own place, as are sluggish and lumpish bodies. If I am not close and near unto myself, I am never far-off: My debauches or excesses transport me not much. There is nothing extreme and strange: yet have I sound fits and vigorous lusts.▪ The true condemnation, and which toucheth the common fashion of our men, is, that their very retreat is full of corruption and filth: The Idea of their amendment blurred and deformed; their repentance crazed and faulty, very near as much as their sin. Some, either because they are so fast and naturally joined unto vice, or through long custom, have lost all sense of its ugliness. To others (of whose rank I am) vice is burdenous, but they counterbalance it with pleasure, or other occasions: and suffer it, and at a certain rate lend themselves unto it; though basely and viciously. Yet might happily so remote a disproportion of measure be imagined, where with justice, the pleasure might excuse the offence, as we say of profit, Not only being accidental, and out of sin, as in thefts, but even in the very excercise of it, as in the acquaintance, or copulation with women; where the provocation is so violent, and as they say, sometime unresistible, In a town of a kinsman of mine; the other day, being in Armignac, I saw a country man, commonly sirnemed the Thief: who himself reported his life to have been thus. Being borne a beggar, and perceiving, that to get his bread by the sweat of his brow and labour of his hands, would never sufficiently arm him against penury, he resolved to become a Thief; and that trade had employed all his youth safely, by means of his bodily strength: for he ever made up Harvest and Vintage in other men's grounds; but so far off, and in so great heaps, that it was beyond imagination, one man should in one night carry away so much upon his shoulders: and was so careful to equal the prey, and disperse the mischief he did, that the spoil was of less import to every particular man. He is now in old years indifferently rich; for a man of his condition (Godamercy his trade) which he is not ashamed to confess openly, And to reconcile himself with God, he affirmeth, to be daily ready, with his gettings, and other good turns, to satisfy the posterity of those he hath heretofore wronged or robbed; which if himself be not of ability to perform (for he cannot do all at once) he will charge his heirs withal, according to the knowledge he hath, of the wrongs by him done to every man. By this description, be it true or false, he respecteth theaft, as a dishonest and unlawful action, and hateth the same: yet less than pinching want: He reputes but simply; for in regard it was so counterballanced and recompensed, he repenteth not. That is not that habit which incorporates us unto vice, and confirmeth our understanding in it; nor is it that boisterous wind, which by violent blasts dazzleth and troubleth our minds, and at that time confounds, and overwhelmes both us, our judgement, and all into the power of vice. What I do, is ordinarily full and complete, and I march (as we say) all in one piece: I have not many motions, that hide themselves and slink away from my reason, or which very near are not guided by the consent of all my parts, without division, or intestine sedition: my judgement hath the whole blame, or commendation; and the blame it hath once, it hath ever: for, almost from its birth, it hath been one, of the same inclination, course and force. And in matters of general opinions, even from my infancy, I ranged myself to the point I was to hold. Some sins there are outrageous, violent and sudden; leave we them. But those other sins, so often reassumed, determined and advised upon, whether they be of complexion, or of profession and calling, I cannot conceive how they should so long be settled in one same courage, unless the reason and conscience of the sinner were thereunto inwardly privy and constantly willing. And how to imagine or fashion the repentance thereof, which he vaunteth, doth some times visit him, seemeth somewhat hard unto me. I am not of Phythagoras' Sect, that men take a new soul, when to receive Oracles, they approach the images of Gods; unless he would say with all, that it must be a strange one, new, and lent him for the time: our own, giving so little sign of purification, and cleanness worthy of that office, They do altogether against the Stoical precepts, which appoint us to correct the imperfections and vices we find in ourselves, but withal forbid us to disturb the quiet of our mind. They make us believe, they feel great remorse, and are inwardly much displeased with sin; but of amendment, correction or intermission, they show us none. Surely there can be not perfect health; Where the disease is not perfectly removed. Were repentance put in the scale of the balance, it would weigh down sin. I find no humour so easy to be counterfeited as Devotion: If one conform not his life and conditions to it, her essence is abstruse and concealed, her appearance gentle and stately. For my part, I may in general wish to be other than I am; I may condemn and mislike my universal form; I may beseech God to grant me an undefiled reformation, and excuse my natural weakness; but me seemeth I ought not to term this repentance no more than the displeasure of being neither Angel nor Cat●. My actions are squared to what I am and conformed to my condition. I cannot do better: And repentance doth not properly concern what is not in our power; sorrow doth. I may imagine infinite dispositions of a higher pitch, and better governed than mine, yet do I nothing better my faculties; no more than mine arm becometh stronger, or my wit more excellent, by conceiving some others to be so. If to suppose & wish a more nobler working than ours, might produce the repentance of our own, we should then repent us of our most innocent actions: forsomuch as we judge that in a more excellent nature, they had heene directed with greater perfection and dignity; and ourselves would do the like. When I consult with my age of my youths proceedings, I find that commonly, (according to my opinion) I managed them in order. This is all my resistance is able to perform. I flatter not myself: in like circumstances, I should ever be the same. It is not a spot, but a whole dye, that stains me. I acknowledge no repentance, that is superficial, mean and ceremoious. It must touch me on all sides, before I can term it repentance. It must pinch my entrails, and afflict them as deeply and thoroughly, as God himself beholds me. When in negotiating, many good fortunes have slipped me for want of good discretion, yet did my projects make good choice, according to the occurrences presented unto them. Their manner is ever to take the easier and surer side. I find that in my former deliberations, I proceeded, after my rules, discreetly, for the subjects state propounded to me; and in like occasions, would proceed a like; a hundred years, hence. I respect not what now it is, but what it was, when I consulted of it. The consequence of all designs consists in the seasons; occasions pass, and matters change uncessantly. I have in my time run into some gross, absurd and important errors; not for want of good advise, but of good hap. There are secret and indivinable parts in the objects men do handle; especially in the nature of men and mute conditions, without show, and sometimes unknown of the very possessors, produced and stirred up by sudden occasions. If my wit could neither find nor presage them, I am not offended with it; the function thereof is contained within its own limits. If the success beat me, and favour the side I refused; there is no remedy; I fall not out with myself; I accuse my fortune, not my endeavour: that's not called repentance. Photion had given the Athenians some counsel, which was not followed; the matter, against his opinion, succeeding happily; How now Photion, (quoth one) art thou pleased the matter hath thrived so well? yea (said he) and I am glad of it, yet repent not the advise I gave. When any of my friends come to me for counsel, I bestow it frankly and clearly, not as (well nigh all the world doth) wavering at the hazard of the matter, whereby the contrary of my meaning may happen, that so they may justly find fault with my advise: for which I care not greatly. For they shall do me wrong, and it became nor me to refuse them that duty. I have no body to blame for my faults or misfortunes, but myself. For in effect I seldom use the advise of other unless it be for compliments sake, and where I have need of instruction or knowledge of the fact. Marry in things wherein nought but judgement is to be employed; strange reasons may serve to sustain, but not to divert me. I lend a favourable and courteous ear unto them all. But (to my remembrance) I never believed any but mine own. With me they are but Flies and Moths, which distract my will. I little regard mine own opinions, other men's I esteem as little: Fortune pays me accordingly. If I take no counsel I give as little. I am not much sought after for it and less credited when I give it: Neither know I any enterprise, either private or public, that my advise hath directed and brought to conclusion. Even those whom fortune had someway tied thereunto, have more willingly admitted the direction of others conceits, than mine. As one that am a jealous of the rights of my quiet, as of those of my authority; I would rather have it thus. Where leaving me, they jump with my profession, which is, wholly to settle and contain me in myself. It is a pleasure unto me, to be disinteressed of other men's affairs, and disengaged from their contentions. When suits or businesses be overpast, how-so-ever it be, I grieve little at them. For, the imagination that they must necessarily happen-so, puts me out of pain; behold them in the course of the Universe, and enchained in Stoy call causes. Your fantazie cannot by wish or imagination, remove one point of them, but the whole order of things must reverse both what is past, and what is to come. Moreover, I hate that accidental repentance which old age brings with it. He that in ancient times said, he was beholden to years, because they had rid him of voluptuousness, was not of mine opinion. I shall never give impuissance thanks, for any good it can do me. Nec tam aversa unquam videbitur ab opere suo providentia, ut debilitas inter optima inventa sit. Nor shall foresight ever be seen so averse from her own work, that weakness be found to be one of the best things. Our appetites are rare in old-age: the blow over-passed, a deep satiety seizeth upon us: Therein I see no conscience. Fretting care and weakness, imprint in us an effeminate and drowsy virtue. We must not suffer ourselves so fully to be carried into natural alterations, as to corrupt or adulterate our judgement by them. Youth and pleasure have not heretofore prevailed so much over me, but I could ever (even in the midst of sensualities) discern the ugly face of sin: nor can the distaste which years bring on me, at this instant, keep me from discerning that of voluptuousness in vice. Now I am no longer in it, I judge of it as if I were still there. I who lively and attentively examine my reason, find it to be the same that possessed me in my most dissolute and licentious age; unless perhaps, they being enfeebled and impaired by years, do make some difference: And find, that what delight it refuseth to afford me in regard of my bodily health, it would no more deny me, then in times past, for the health of my soul. To see it out of combat, I hold it not the more courageous. My temptations are so mortified and crazed, as they are not worthy of its oppositions; holding but my hand before me, I becalm them. Should one present that former concupiscence unto it, I fear it would be of less power to sustance it than heretofore it hath been. I see in it, by itself no increase of judgement, nor access of brightness, what it now judgeth, it did then. Wherefore if there be any amendment, 'tis but diseased. Oh miserable kind of remedy, to be beholden unto sickness for our health. It is not for our mishap, but for the good success of our judgement to perform this office. Crosses and afflictions, make me do nothing but curse them. They are for people, that cannot be awaked but by the whip. The course of my reason is the nimbler in prosperity; It is much more distracted and busied in the digesting of mischiefs, than of delights. I see much cleare● in fair weather. Health forewarneth me, as with more pleasure, so to better purpose than sickness. I approached the nearest I could unto amendment and regularity, when I should have enjoyed the same; I should be ashamed and vexed, that the misery and mishap of my old age could exceed the health, attention and vigour of my youth: and that I should be esteemed, not for what I have been, but for what I am left to be. The happy life (in my opinion) not (as said Antisthenes) the happy death, is it that makes man's happiness in this world. I have not preposterously busied myself to tie the tail of a Philosopher, unto the head and body of a varlet: nor that this paltry end, should disavow and bely the fairest, soundest, and longest part of my life. I will present myself, and make a general muster of my whole, every where uniformally. Were I to live again, it should be as I have already lived. I neither deplore what is past, nor dread what is to come: and if I be not deceived, the inward parts have nearly resembled the outward. It is one of the chiefest points wherein I am beholden to fortune, that in the course of my body's estate, each thing hath been carried in season. I have seen the leaves, the blossoms, and the fruit; and now see the drooping and withering of it. Happily, because naturally. I bear my present miseries the more gently, because they are in season, and with greater favour make me remember the long happiness of my former life. In like manner, my discretion may well be of like proportion in the one and the other time: but sure it was of much more performance, and had a better grace, being fresh, jolly and full of spirit, than now that it is worn, decrepit and toilsome. I therefore renounce these casual and dolorous reformations. God must touch our hearts; our conscience must amend of itself, and not by reinforcement of our reason, nor by the enfeebling of our appetites. Voluptuousness in itself is neither pale nor discouloured, to be discerned by blear and troubled eyes. We should affect temperance and chastity for itself, and for God's cause, who hath ordained them unto us: that which Catarrhs bestow upon us, and which I am beholden to my colic for, is neither temperance nor chastity. A man cannot boast of contemning or combating sensuality, if he see her not, or know not her grace, her force and most attractive beauties. I know them both, and therefore may speak it. But me thinks our souls in age are subject unto more importunate diseases and imperfections, than they are in youth. I said so being young, when my beardless chin was upbraided me; and I say it again, now that my grey beard gives me authority. We entitle wisdom, the frowardness of our humours, and the distaste of present things; but in truth we abandon not vices, so much as we change them; and in mine opinion for the worse. Besides a silly and ruinous pride, cumbersome tattle, wayward and unsociable humours, superstition and a ridiculous carking for wealth, when the use of it is well nigh lost, I find the more envy, injustice and lewdness in it. It sets more wrinkles in our minds, then on our foreheads: nor are there any spirits, or very rare ones, which in growing old taste not sourly and mustily. Man marcheth entirely towards his increase and decrease. View but the wisdom of Socrates, and diverse circumstances of his condemnation, I dare say he something lent himself unto it by prevarication of purpose: being so near, and at the age of seventy, to endure the benumbing of his spirits richest pace, and the dimming of his accustomed brightness. What Metamorphoses have I seen it daily make in divers of mine acquaintances? It is a powerful malady, which naturally and imperceptible glideth into us: There is required great provision of stu●●, heed and precaution, to avoid the imperfections wherewith it chargeth us; or at least to weaken their further progress. I find that notwithstanding all my entrenching, by little and little it getteth ground upon me: I hold out as long as I can, but know not whither at length it will bring me. Hap what hap will, I am pleased the world know from what height I tumbled. The third Chapter. Of three commerces or societies. WE must not cleave so fast unto our humours and dispositions. Our chiefest sufficiency is, to apply ourselves to diverse fashions. It is a being, but not a life, to be tied and bound by necessity to one only course. The goodliest minds are those that have most variety and pliableness in them. Behold an honourable testimony of old Cato: Huic versatile ingenium sic pariter ad omnia fuit, ut natum ad id unum diceres, quodcunque ageret. jiu. bell. Mac. l. 9 He had a wit so turneable for all things alike, as one would say he had been only borne for that he went about to do. Were I to dress myself after mine own manner, there is no fashion so good, whereto I would be so affected or tied, as not to know how to leave and lose it. Life is a motion unequal, irregular and multiform. It is not to be the friend (less the master) but the slave of ones self to follow uncessantly, and be so addicted to his inclinations, as he cannot stray from them, nor wrest them. This I say now, as being extremely pestered with the importunity of my mind, forsomuch as she cannot ammuse herself, but whereon it is busied; not employ itself, but bend and whole. How light soever the subject is one gives it, it willingly amplifieth, and wire-drawes the same, even unto the highest pitch of toil. It's idleness is therefore a painful trade unto me, and offensive to my health. Most wits have need of extravagant stuff, to un-benumme and exercise themselves: mine hath need of it, rather to settle and continue itself: Vitia otij negotio discutienda sunt, The vices of idleness should be shaken off with business: For, the S●●. ep. 56. most laborious care and principal study of it, is, to study itself. Books are one of those businesses that seduce it from study. At the first thoughts that present themselves, it rouseth up and makes proof of all the vigour it hath. It exerciseth its function sometimes toward force, sometimes toward order and comeliness, it rangeth, moderates and fortifieth. It hath of itself to awaken the faculties of it: Nature having given it, as unto all other, matter of it's own for advantage, and subjects fit enough whereon to devise and determine. Meditation is a large and powerful study to such as vigorously can taste and employ themselves therein. I had rather forge then furnish my mind. There is no office or occupation either weaker or stronger, then that of entertaining of one's thoughts according to the mind, whatsoever it be. The greatest make it their vacation, Quibus vivere est cogitare, to whom it is all one to live and to meditate. Nature hath also favoured it with this privilege, that there is nothing we can do so long; nor action, whereto we give ourselves more ordinarily and easily. It is the work of Gods (saith Aristotle) whence both their happiness and ours proceedeth. Reading serves me especially, to awake my conceit by diverse objects; to busy my judgement, not my memory. Few entertainments then, stay me without vigour and force. 'tis true that courtesy and beauty possess me, as much or more, than weight and depth. And because I slumber in all other communications, and lend but the superficial parts of my attention unto them, it often befalleth me, in such kind of weak and absurd discourses, (discourses of countenance) to blurt out and answer ridiculous toys, and fond absurdities, unworthy a child; or wilfully to hold my peace; therewithal more foolishly and incivilly. I have a kind of raving fancie-full behaviour, that retireth me into myself; and on the other side, a gross and childish ignorance of many ordinary things; by means of which two qualities, I have in my days committed five or six as sottish tricks, as any one whosoever; which to my derogation may be reported. But to follow my purpose, this harsh complexion of mine makes me nice in conversing with men (whom I must pick and cull out for the nonce) and unfit for common actions. We live and negotiate with the people: If their behaviour importune us, if we disdain to lend ourselves to base and vulgar spirits, which often are as regular as those of a finer mould; and all wisdom is vasavourie, that is not conformed to common insipience. We are no longer to intermeddle either with our, or other men's affairs: and both public and private forsake such kind of people. The least wrested, and most natural proceedings of our mind, are the fairest; the best occupations, those which are least forced. Good God, how good an office doth wisdom unto those, whose desires she squareth according to their power! There is no science more profitable. As one may, was the burden and favoured saying of Socrates: A sentence of great substance. We must address and stay our desires, to things most easy and nearest. Is it not a fond-peevish humour in me, to disagree from a thousand; to whom my fortune joineth me, without whom I cannot live, to adhere unto one or two, that are out of my commerce and conversation; or rather to a fantastical conceit, or fancie-full desire, for a thing I cannot obtain? My soft behaviours and mild manners, enemies to all sharpness and foes to all bitterness, may easily have discharged me from envy and contention. To be beloved, I say not, but not to be hated, never did man give more occasion. But the coldness of my conversation, hath with reason robbed me of the good will of many; which may be excused, if they interpret the same to other, or worse sense. I am most capable of getting rare amities, and continuing exquisite acquaintances. For so much as with so greedy hunger I snatch at such acquaintances as answer my taste and square with my humour. I so greedily produce and headlong cast myself upon them, that I do not easily miss to cleave unto them, and where I lighton, to make a steady impression; I have often made happy and successful trial of it. In vulgar worldly friendships, I am somewhat cold and barren; for my proceeding is not natural, if not unresisted and with hoised-full sails. Moreover, my fortune having enured and alured me, even from my infancy, to one sole-singular and perfect amity, hath verily, in some sort, distasted me from others: and over-deeply imprinted in my fantasy, that it is a beast sociable and for company, and not of troop, as said an ancient writer. So that it is naturally a pain unto me, to communicate myself by halves, and with modification; and that servile or suspicious wisdom, which in the conversation of these numerous and imperfect amities, is ordained and proposed unto us: Prescribed in these days especially, Wherein one cannot speak of the world but dangerously or falsely. Yet I see, that who (as I do) makes for his end, the commodities of his life (I mean essential commodities) must avoid as a plague, these difficulties and quaintness of humour. I should commend a high-raysed mind, that could both bend and discharge itself: that wherever her fortune might transport her, she might continue constant: that could discourse with her neighbour of all matters, as of her building, of her hunting and of any quarrel; and entertain with delight a Carpenter or a Gardener. I envy those which can be familiar with the meanest of their followers, and vouchsafe to contract friendship, and frame discourse with their own servants. Nor do I like the advise of Plato, ever to speak imperiously unto our attendants, without blitheness and sans any familiarity: be it to men or women servants. For, besides my reason, it is inhumanity, and injustice, to attribute so much unto that prerogative of fortune: and the govenrment, where less inequality is permitted between the servant and master, is, in my conceit the more indifferent. Some other study to rouse and raise their mind; but I to abase and prostrate mine: it is not faulty but in extension. Narras et genus Aeaci, idor. ●ar. l. 3 odd 19 2. Et pugnata sacro bella sub Ilio. Quo Chium pretio cadum Mercemur, quis aquam temperet iguibus, Quo praebente domum, et quota Pelignis caream frigoribus, taces. You tell of Aeacus the pedigree; The wars at sacred Troy you do display, You tell not at what price a hogshead we May buy of the best Wine; who shall allay Wine-fire with water. at whose house to hold. At what a-clock, I may be kept from cold, Even as the Lacedaemonian valour had need of moderation, and of sweet and pleasing sounds of Flutes, to flatter and allay it in time of war, lest it should run headlong into rashness and fury: whereas all other nations use commonly piercing sounds and strong shouts, which violently excite, and inflame their soldiers courage: so think I (against ordinary custom) that in the employment of our spirit, we have for the most part more need of lead then wings; of coldness and quiet, then of heat and agitation. Above all, in my mind, The only way to play the fool well, is to seem wise among fools: to speak as though ones tongue were ever bend to Fauelar' in punta diforchetta, To Ital. Preu. syllabize or speak minsinglie. One must lend himself unto those he is with, and sometimes affect ignorance: Set force and subtlety aside; In common employments 'tis enough to reserve order; drag yourself even close to the ground, if they will have it so. The learned stumble willingly on this block; making continual muster, and open show of their skill, and dispersing their books abroad: And have in these days so filled the closerts, and possessed the ears of Ladies, that if they retain not their substance, at least they have their countenance: using in all sorts of discourse and subject how base or popular soever, a new, an affected and learned fashion of speaking and writing. Hoc sermone pavent, hoc iram, gaudia, curas, Iwen. Sat. 6. 189. Hoc cuncta effundunt animi secreta, quid ultra? Concumbunt docte. They in this language fear, in this they fashion Their joys, their cares, their rage, their inward passion; What more? they learned are in copulation. And allege Plato, and Saint Thomas for things, which the first man they meet would decide as well, and stand for as good a witness. Such learning as could not enter into their mind, hath stayed on their tongues. If the well borne will give any credit unto me, they shall be pleased to make their own and natural riches to prevail and be of worth: They hide and shroud their forms under foreign and borrowed beauties: It is great simplicity, for any body to smother and conceal his own brightness, to shine with a borrowed light: They are buried and entombed under the Art of CAPSULA TOTAE, It is because they do not sufficiently know themselves: the World contains nothing of more beauty: It is for them to honour Arts, and to beautify embellishment. What need they more than to live beloved and honoured? They have, and know but too much in that matter. There needs but a little rousing and inflaming of the faculties that are in them. When I see them meddling with Rhetoric, with Law, and with Logic, and such like trash, so vain and unprofitable for their use; I enter into fear, that those who advise them to such things, do it, that they may have more law to govern them under that pretence. For, what other excuse can I devise for them? It is sufficient, that without us, they may frame, or roll the grace of their eyes, unto cheerfulness, unto severity, and unto mildness: and season a No with frowardness, with doubt and with favour; and require not an interpreter in discourses made for their service. With this learning they command without control, and overrule both Regent's and Schools. Yet if it offend them to yield us any pre-eminence, and would for curiosity sake have part in books also: Poesy is a study fit for their purpose: being a wanton, ammusing, subtle, disguised, and prattling Art; all in delight, all in show, like to themselves. They may also select divers commodities out of History. In Moral Philosophy, they may take the discourses which enable them to judge of our humours, to censure our conditions, and to avoid our guiles and treacheries; to temper the rashness of their own desires. to husband their liberty: lengthen the delights of life; gently to bear the inconstancy of a servant, the peevishness or rudeness of a husband, the importunity of years, the unwellcomnesse of wrinkles, and such like minde-troubling accidents. Lo hear the most and greatest share of learning I would assign them. There are some particular, retired and close dispositions. My essential form is fit for communication, and proper for production: I am all outward and in appearance; borne for society and unto friendship. The solitude I love and commend, is especially but to retire my affections and redeem my thoughts unto myself; to restrain and closeup, not my steps, but my desires and my ears, resigning all foreign solicitude and trouble, and mortally shunning all manner of servitude and obligation; and not so much the throng of men as the importunity of affairs. Local solitariness (to say truth) doth rather extend and enlarge me outwardly; I give myself to State-business, and to the world, more willingly when I am all alone. At the Court, and in press of people, I close and slink into mine own skin. Assemblies thrust me again into myself. And I never entertain myself so fond, so licentiously, and so particularly, as in places of respect, and ceremonious discretion. Our follies make me not laugh, but our wisdoms do. Of mine own complexion, I am no enemy to the agitations and stir of our Courts: I have there past great part of my life: and am enured to be merry in great assemblies; so it beeby intermission, and suitable to my humour. But this tenderness and coyness of judgement (whereof I speak) doth perforce tie me unto solitariness. Yea even in mine own house, in the midst of a numerous family and most frequented houses, I see people more than a good many, but seldom such as I love to converse or communicate withal. And there I reserve, both for myself, and others, an unaccustomed liberty; making truce with ceremonies, assistance, and invitings, and such other troublesome ordinances of our courtesy (O servile custom and importunate manner) there every man demeaneth himself as he pleaseth, and entertaineth what his thoughts affect; whereas I keep myself silent, meditating and close, without offence to my guests or friends. The men whose familiarity and society I hunt after, are those which are called honest, virtuous and sufficient: the image of whom doth distaste and divert me from others. It is (being rightly taken) the rarest of our forms; and a form or fashion chiefly due unto nature. The end or scope of this commerce, is principally and simply familiarity, conference and frequentation: the exercise of minds, without other fruit. In our discourses, all subjects are alike to me: I care not though they want either weight or depth; grace and pertmency are never wanting; all therein is tainted with a ripe and constant judgement, and commixed with goodness, liberty, cheerfulness, and kindness. It is not only in the subject of Laws and affairs of Princes, that our spirit showeth its beauty, grace and vigour: It showeth them as much in private conferences. I know my people by their very silence and smile, and peradventure discover them better at a Table, then sitting in serious counsel. Hippomacus said, he discerned good Wrestlers but by seeing them march through a Street. If learning vouchsafe to step into our talk, she shall not be refused; yet must not she be stern, mastering, imperious and importunate, as commonly she is; but assistant, and docile of herself. Therein we seek for nothing but recreation and pastime: when we shall look to be instructed, taught and resolved, we will go seek and sue to her in her Throne. Let her if she please keep from us at that time; for, as commodious and pleasing as she is: I presume that for a need we could spare her presence, and do our business wellenough without her. Wits well borne, sound bred and exercised in the practice and commerce of men, become gracious and plausible of themselves. Art is but the Checke-roule, and Register of the Productions uttered, and conceits produced by them. The company of fair, and society of honest women is likewise a sweet commerce for me: Nam●●s quoque oculos cruditos habemus, for we also have learned eyes. If the mind have Ci●. parad. not so much to solace herself, as in the former; the corporal senses, whose part is more in the second, bring it to a proportion near unto the other; although in mine opinion not equal. But it is a society wherein it behoveth a man somewhat to stand upon his guard; and especially those that are of a strong constitution, and whose body can do much, as in me. In my youth I heated myself therein and was very violent; and endured all the rages and furious assaults, which Poets say happen to those who without order or discretion abandon themselves over-loosly and riotously unto it. True it is indeed, that the same lash hath since stood me instead of an instruction. Quicunque Argolica de class Capharea fugit, Ovid. Trist. l. 1. el. 1. 83. Semper ab Euboicis vela retorquet aquis. Greek Sailors that Capharean Rocks did fly, From the Euboean Seas their sails still ply. It is folly to fasten all one's thoughts upon it, and with a furious and indiscreet affection to engage himself unto it: But on the otherside, to meddle with it without love or bond of affection, as Comediants do, to play a common part of age and manners, without aught of their own but bare-conned words, is verily a provision for ones safety: and yet but a cowardly one; as is that of him, who would forego his honour, his profit or his pleasure for fear of danger; for it is certain that the practisers of such courses, cannot hope for any fruit able to move or satisfy a worthy mind. One must very earnestly have desired that, whereof he would enjoy an absolute delight: I mean, though fortune should unjustly favour their intention: which often happeneth because there is no woman, how deformed and unhandsome soever, but thinks herself lovely, amiable and praiseworthy, either for her age, her hair or gate (for there are generally no more fair than foul ones) And the Brachmanian maids wanting other commendations; by Proclamation for that purpose, made show of their matrimonial parts unto the people assembled, to see if thereby at least they might get them husbands. By consequence there is not one of them, but upon the first oath one maketh to serve her, will very easily be persuaded to think well of herself. Now this common treason and ordinary protestations of men in these days, must needs produce the effects, experience already discovereth: which is, that either they join together, and cast away themselves on themselves, to avoid us, or on their side follow also the example we give them; acting their part of the play, without passion; without care, and without love, lending themselves to this intercourse: Neque affectui suo aut alieno obnoxiae: Neither liable to their own nor other folks affection. Thinking, according to Lysias persuasions in Plato, they may so much the more profitably and commodiously yield unto us; by how much less we love them: Wherein it will happen as in Comedies, the spectators shall have as much or more pleasure, as the Comedians. For my part, I no more acknowledge Venus without Cupid, than a motherhood without an offspring: They are things which enter-lend and enter-owe one another their essence. Thus doth this cozening rebound on him that useth it; and as it costs him little, so gets he not much by it. Those which made Venus a Goddess, have respected that her principal beauty was incorporeal and spiritual. But she whom these kind of people hunt after, is not so much as human, nor also brutal; but such as wild beasts, would not have her so filthy and terrestrial. We see that imagination inflames them, and desire or lust urgeth them, before the body: We see in one and other sex, even in whole herds, choice and distinctions in their affections, and amongst themselves acquaintances of long continued goodwill and liking. And even those to whom age denieth bodily strength, do yet bray, neigh, roar, skip and wince for love. Before the deed we see them full of hope and heat; and when the body hath played his part, even tickle and tingle themselves with the sweetness of that remembrance: some of them swell with pride at parting from it, others all weary and glutted, ring out songs of glee and triumph. Who makes no more of it but to discharge his body of some natural necessity, hath no cause to trouble others with so curious preparation. It is no food for a greedy and clownish hunger. As one that would not be accounted better than I am, thus much I will display of my youths wanton-errours: Not only for the danger of ones health that follows that game (yet could I not avoid two, though light and cursory assaults) but also for contempt, I have not much been given to mercenary and common acquaintances. I have coveted to set an edge on that sensual pleasure by difficulty, by desire, and for some glory. And liked Tiberius his fashions, who in his amours was swa●ed as much by modesty and nobleness, as by any other quality. And Flora's humour, who would prostitute herself to none worse than Dictator's, Consuls, or Censors, and took delight in the dignity and greatness of her lovers, doth somewhat suit with mine. Surely glittering pearls and silken clothes add some thing unto it, and so do titles, nobility and a worthy train. Besides which, I made high esteem of the mind, yet so as the body might not justly be found fault withal: For, to speak my conscience, if either of the two beauties were necessarily to be wanting, I would rather have chosen to want the mental, whose use is to be employed in better things. But in the subject of love; a subject that chiefly hath reference unto the two senses of seeing and touching, some thing may be done without the graces of the mind, but little or nothing without the corporal. Beauty is the true availefull advantage of women: It is so peculiarly theirs, that ours though it require some features and different allurements, is not in her right cue, or true bias, unless confused with theirs; childish and beardless. It is reported, that such as serve the great Turk under the title of beauty (whereof the number is infinite) are dismissed at furthest when they once come to the age of two and twenty years. Discourse, discretion, together with the offices of true amity, are better found amongst men: and therefore govern they the world's affairs. These two commerces or societies are accidental and depending of others; the one is troublesome and tedious for its rarity; the other withers with old age: nor could they have sufficiently provided for my lives necessities. That of books, which is the third, is much more solid-sure and much more ours; some other advantages it yieldeth to the two former; but hath for her share constancy and the facility of her service. This accosteth and secondeth all my course, and every where assisteth me: It comforts me in age, and solaceth me in solitariness: It easeth me of the burden of a wearisome sloth; and at all times rids me of tedious companies; it abateth the edge of fretting sorrow, on condition it be not extreme and over-insolent. To divert me from any importunate imagination or insinuating conceit, there is no better way then to have recourse unto books: with ease they allure me to them, and with facility they remove them all. And though they perceive I neither frequent nor seek them, but wanting other more essential, lively, and more natural commodities, they never mutiny or murmur at me; but still entertain me with one and selfsame visage. He may well walk a foot, that leads his horse by the bridle, saith the proverb. And our james king of Naples and Sicily, who being fair, young, healthy and in good plight, caused himself to be carried abroad in a plain waggon or screen, lying upon an homely pillow of course feathers, clothed in a suit of homespun grey, and a bonnet of the same, yet royally attended on by a gallant troop of Nobles, of Litters, Coaches, and of all sorts of choice led-horses, a number of gentlemen, and officers, represented a tender and wavering austerity. The sick man is not to be moaned, that hath his health in his sleeve. In the experience and use of this sentence, which is most true, consisteth all the commodity I reap of books. In effect I make no other use of them, than those who know them not. I enjoy them, as a miser doth his gold; to know, that I may enjoy them when I list; my mind is settled and satisfied with the right of possession. I never travel without books, nor in peace nor in war; yet do I pass many days and months without using them. It shall be anon, say I or to morrow, or when I please; in the mean while the time runs away, and passeth without hurting me. For it is wonderful, what repose I take, and how I continue in this consideration, that they are at my elbow to delight me when time shall serve: and in acknowledging what assistance they give unto my life. This is the best munition I have found in this human peregrination; and I extremely bewail those men of understanding that want the same. I accept with better will all otehr kinds of ammusements, how slight soever, forsomuch as this cannot fail me. At home I betake me somewhat the oftener to my Library, whence all at once I command and survey all my household; It is seated in the chief entry of my house, thence I behold under me my garden, my base court, my yard, and look even into most rooms of my house. There without order, without method, and by peece-meales I turn over and ransack, now one book and now another. Sometimes I muse and rave; and walking up and down I endight and enregister these my humours, these my conceits. It is placed on the third story of a tower. The lowermost is my Chapel; the second a chamber with other lodgings, where I often lie, because I would be alone. Above it is a great wardrobe. It was in times past the most unprofitable place of all my house. There I pass the greatest part of my lives days, and wear out most hours of the day. I am never there a nights: Next unto it is a handsome neat cabinet, able and large enough to receive fire in winter, and very pleasantly windowed. And if I feared not care, more than cost; (care which drives and diverts me from all business) I might easily joan a convenient gallery of a hundred paces long, and twelve broad, on each side of it, and upon one floor; having already, for some other purpose, found all the walls raised unto a convenient height. Each retired place requireth a walk. My thoughts are prone to sleep, if I sit long. My mind goes not alone as if legs did move it. Those that study without books, are all in the same case. The form of it is round, and hath no flat side, but what serveth for my table and chair: In which bending or circling manner, at one look it offereth me the full sight of all my books, set round about upon shelves or desks, five ranks one upon anotehr. It hath three bay-windowes, of a farre-extending, rich and unresisted prospect, and is in diameter sixteen paces void. In winter I am less continually there: for my house (as the name of it importeth) is parched upon an over-pearing hillock; and hath no part more subject to all wethers than this: which pleaseth me the more, both because the access unto it is somewhat troublesome and remote, and for the benefit of the exercise, which is to be respected; and that I may the better seclude myself from company, and keep incrochers from me: There is my seat, that is my throne. I endeavour to make my rule therein absolute, and to sequester that only corner from the community of wife, of children and of acquaintance. Elsewhere I have but a verbal authority, of confused essence. Miserable, in my mind is he, who in his own home, hath no where to be to himself; where he may particularly court, and at his pleasure hide or withdraw himself. Ambition payeth her followers well, to keep them still in open view, as a statue in some conspicuous place. Magna Sen. cons. ad Pol. c. 26. p. servitus est magna fortuna: A great fortune is a great bondage. They cannot be private so much as at their privy, I have deemed nothing so rude in the austerity of the life, which our Churchmen affect, as that in some of their companies they institute a perpetual society of place, and a mumerous assistance amongst them in any thing they do. And deem it somewhat more tolerable to be ever alone, than never able to be so. If any say to me, It is a kind of vilifying the Muses, to use them only for sport and recreation, he wots not as I do, what worth, pleasure, sport and pastime is of: I had well nigh termed all other ends ridiculous. I live from hand to mouth, and with reverence be it spoken, I live but to myself: there end all my designs. Being young I studied for ostentation; then a little to enable myself and become wiser; now for delight and recreation; never for gain. A vain conceit and lavish humour I had after this kind of stuff; not only to provide for my need but somewhat further to adorn and embellish myself withal: I have since partly left it. Books have and contain diverse pleasing qualities to those that can duly choose them. But no good without pains; no Roses without prickles. It is a pleasure not absolutely pure and neat, no more than all others; it hath his enconueniences attending on it and sometimes weighty ones: The mind is therein exercised, but the body (the ear whereof I have not yet forgotten) remaineth therewhilst without action, and is wasted, and ensorrowed. I know no excess more hurtful for me, nor more to be avoided by me, in this declining age. lo here my three most favoured and particular employments. I speak not of those I owe of duty to the world. The fourth Chapter. Of diverting and diversions. I Was once employed in comforting of a trulie-afflicted Lady: the greatest part of their discourses are artificial and ceremonious. Vberibus semper lachrimis, semperque paratis. Iwen. Sat. 6. 273. In station sua, atque expectantibus illam, Quo iubeat manare modo. With plenteous tears; still ready in their stand, Expecting still their Mistress' command, How they must flow, when they must go. Men do but ill in opposing themselves against this passion; for opposition doth but incense and engage them more to sorrow and quietness: The disease is exasperated by the jealousy of debate. In matters of common discourse, we see, that what I have spoken without heed or care, if one come to contest with me about it, I stiffly maintain and make good mine own; much more if it be a thing wherein I am interessed. Besides, in so doing, you enter but rudely into your matter, whereas a Physicians first entertainment of his patient should be gracious, cheerful and pleasing. An ugly and froward Physician wrought never any good effect. On the contrary then, we must at first assist and smooth their laments, and witness some approbation and excuse thereof. By which means you get credit to go on, and by an easy and insensible inclination, you fall into more firm and serious discourses and fit for their amendment. ay, who desired chiefly but to gull the assistants, that had their eyes cast on me, meant to salve their mischief; I verily find by experience, that I have but an ill and unfruitful vain to persuade. I present my reasons either too sharp, or too dry; or too stirringly or too carelessly. After I had for a while applied myself to her torment, I attempted not to cure it by strong and lively reasons; either because I want them, or because I supposed I might otherwise effect my purpose the better. Nor did I cull out the several fashions of comfort prescribed by Philosophy: That the thing lamented is not ill, as Cleanthes: or but a little ill, as the Peripatetikes: That to lament is neither just, nor commendable; as Chrysippus; Nor this Epicurus, most agreeing with my manner, to translate the conceit of ykresome into delightsome things; Nor to make a load of all this mass, dispensing the same, as one hath occasion, as Cicero. But fair and softly declining our discourses, and by degrees bending them unto subjects more near; then a little more remote, even as she more or less inclined to me. junperceaveably removed those doleful humours from her; so that as long as I was with her, so long I kept her in cheerful countenance,, and untroubled fashion; wherein I used diversion. Those which in the same service succeeded me, found her no whit amended: the reason was, I had not yet driven my wedge to the root. I have peradventure else where, glanced at some kinds of public diversions. And the military customs used by Pericles in the Peloponensian war, and a thousand others elsewhere, to divert or withdraw the army of an enemy from their own country, is too frequent in histories. It was an ingenious diverting, wherewith the Lord of Himbercourt saved both himself and others in the town of Liege, into which the Duke of Burgundy, who beleaguered the same, had caused him to enter, to perform the covenants of their accorded yielding. The inhabitants thereof, to provide for it, assembled by night, and began to mutiny against their former agreement, determining upon this advantage to set upon the Negotiators, now in their power. He perceiving their intent, and noise of this shower ready to fall upon him, and the danger his lodging was in, forthwith rushed out upon them two citizens (whereof he had divers with him) furnished with most plausible and new offers to be propounded to their counsel; but indeed forged at that instant to serve his turn withal, and to ammuse them. These two stayed the first approaching storm, and carried this incensed Hydra-headed-monster multitude back to the townhouse, to hear their charge, and accordingly to determine of it. The consultation was short; when lo a second tempest came rushing on, more furiously enraged then the former; to whom he immediately dispatched four new and semblable intercessors, with protestations, that now they were in earnest to propose and declare new and far more ample conditions unto them, wholly to their content and satisfaction; whereby this disordered rout was again drawn to their Conclave and Senate-house. In sum, he by such a dispensation of amusements, diverting their headlong fury, and dissipating the same with vain and frivolous consultations, at length lulled them into so secure a sleep▪ that he gained the day, which was his chiefest drift and only aimed scope. This other story is also of the same predicament. Atalanta a maid of rare surpassing beauty, and of a wondrous strange disposition, to rid herself from the importunate pursuit of a thousand amorous suitors, who solicited her for marriage, prescribed this law unto them; that she would accept of him that should equal her in running; on condition those she should overcome might lose their lives. Some there were found, who deemed this prize worthy the hazard, and who incurred the penalty of so cruel a match. Hippomenes coming to make his essay after the rest, devoutly addressed himself to the divine protectress of all amorous delights, earnestly invoking her assistance; who gently listening to his hearty prayers, furnished him with three golden Apples, and taught him how to use them. The scope of the race being plain, according as Hippomenes perceived his swift▪ footed mistress to approach his heels, he let fall (as at unawares) one of his Apples: the heedless maiden gazing and wondering at the alluring beauty of it, failed not to turn and take it up. Obstupuit virgo, nitidique cupidine pomi, ovid. M●t. lib. 10. 666. Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit. The maid amazed, desiring that fair gold, Turns by her course, takes it up as it rolled. The like he did (at his need) with the second and third: until by this digressing and diverting, the goal and advantage of the course was judged his, When Physicians cannot purge the rheum, they divert and remove the same unto some less dangerous part. I also perceive it to be the most ordinary receipt for the minds diseases. Abducendus etiam nonnunquam animus est ad alia studia, sollicitudines, curas, negotia: Loci denique mutatione, tanquam aegroti non convalescentes, saepe curandus est: Our mind also is sometimes to be diverted to other studies, cogitations, cares and businesses: and lastly to be cured by change of place, as sick folks use, that otherwise cannot get health. We make it seldom to shock mischiefs with direct resistance: we make it neither to bear nor to break, but to shun or divert, the blow. This other lesson is too high, and overhard. It is for them of the first rank, merely to stay upon the thing itself, to examine and judge it. It belongeth to one only Socrates, to accost and entertain death with an undaunted ordinary visage, to become familiar and play with it. He seeketh for no comfort out of the thing itself. To die seemeth unto him a natural and indifferent accident: thereon he wishly fixeth his sight, and thereon he resolveth without looking elsewhere. Hegosias' his disciples, who with hunger starved themselves to death, incensed thereunto with the persuading discourses of his lessons; and that so thick as King Ptolomey forbade him any longer to entertain his school with such murderous precepts. Those considered not death in itself, they judge it not: This was not the limit of their thoughts, they run on, and aim at another being. Those poor creatures we see on scaffolds, fraught with an ardent devotion, therein to the uttermost of their power, employing all their senses; their ears attentive to such instructions as Preachers give them, their hands and eyes li●t up towards heaven; their voice uttering loud and earnest prayers; all with an eager and continual ruth-mooving motion; do verily what in such an unavoidable exigent is commendable and convenient. One may well commend their religion, but not properly their constancy. They shun the brunt; they divert their consideration from death; as we use to dandle and busy children, when we would launce them or let them blood. I have seen some, who if by fortune they chanced to cast their eyes towards the dreadful preparations of death, which were round about them, fall into trances, and with fury cast their cogitations elsewhere. We teach those that are to passover some steepy down fall or dreadful abyss, to shut or turn aside their eyes. Subrius Flavius, being by the appointment of Nero to be put to death by the hands of Niger, both chief commanders in war: when he was brought unto the place where the execution should be performed, seeing the pit Niger had caused to be digged for him uneven and unhandsomely made; Nor is this pit (quoth he to the soldiers that stood about him) according to the true discipline of war: And to Niger, who willed him to hold his head steady, I wish thou wouldst strick as steadily. He guessed right; for Nigers arm trembling, he had diverse blows at him before he could strike it off. This man seemeth to have fixed his thoughts surely and directly on the matter. He that dies in the fury of a battle, with weapons in hand thinks not then on death, and neither feeleth nor considereth the same: the heat of the fight transports him. An honest man of my acquaintance, falling down in a single combat, and feeling himself stabbed nine or ten times by his enemy, was called unto by the bystanders to call on God and remember his conscience: but he told me after, that albeit those voices came unto his ears, they had no whit moved him, and that he thought on nothing, but how to discharge and revenge himself. In which combat he vanquished and slew his adversary. He who brought L. Syllanus his condemnation, did much for him; in that when he heard him answer he was prepared to die, but not by the hands of base villains; ran upon him with his soldiers to force him; against whom obstinately defending himself though unarmed) with fists and feet; he was slain in the conflict: dispersing with a ready and rebellious choler the painful sense of a long and fore-prepared death; to which he was assigned. We ever think on somewhat else: either the hope of a better life doth settle and support us, or the confidence of our children's worth; or the future glory of our name; or the avoiding of these lives mischiefs; or the revenge hanging over their heads that have caused and procured our death: Spero equidem medijs, si quid ●ia numina possunt, Virg. Aen. l. 4. 382. Supplicia hausurum scopulis, & nomine Dido Saepe vocaturum. Audiam, & haec manes veniet mihi fama sub imos. 387. I hope, if powers of heaven have any power, On rocks he shall be punished, at that hour, He oft on Dido's name shall pitiless exclaim. This shall I hear, and this report, shall to me in my grave resort. Xenophon sacrificed with a crown on his head, when one came to tell him the death of his son Gryllus in the battle of Mantinaea. At the first hearing whereof he cast his crown to the ground; but finding upon better relation how valiantly he died, he took it up and put it on his head again. Epicurus also at his death comforted himself in the eternity and worth of his writings. Omnes clari & nobilitati labores fiunt tolerabiles. Cic. Tusc. l. 2. All glorious and honourable labours are made tolerable. And the same wound, and the same toil (saith Xenophon) toucheth not a General of an army, as it doth a private soldier. Epaminondas took his death much the more cheerfully, being informed that the victory remained on his side. Haec sunt solatia, haec fomenta summorum dolorum: These are the comforts, Ibid. these the eases of most grievous pains. And such other like circumstances ammuse, divert and remove us from the consideration of the thing in itself. Even the arguments of Philosophy, at each clap wrest and turn the matter aside, and scarcely wipe away the scab thereof. The first man of the first Philosophical School and superintendant of the rest, that great Zeno, against death, cried out; No evil is honourable; death is: therefore is death no evil. Against drunkenness; No man entrusts his secrets to a drunkard; every one to the wise: therefore the wise will not be drunk. Is this to hit the white? I love to see, that these principal wits cannot rid themselves of our company. As perfect and absolute as they would be, they still are but gross and simple men. Revenge is a sweet-pleasing passion; of a great and natural impression: I perceive it well, albeit I have made no trial of it. To divert of late a young Prince from it, I told him not, he was to offer the one side of his cheek, to him who had struck him on the other, in regard of charity; nor displayed I unto him the tragical events Poesy bestoweth upon that passion. There I left him, and strove to make him taste the beauty of a contrary image: the honour, the favour and the goodwill he should acquire by gentleness and goodness: I diverted him to ambition. Behold how they deal in such cases. If your affection in love be over-powerfull, disperse or dissipate the same, say they; and they say true, for I have often, with profit made trial of it: Break it by the virtue of several desires, of which one may be Regent or chief Master, if you please; but for fear it should misuse and tyrannize you, weaken it with dividing, and protract it with diverting the same. cum morosa vago singultiet inguine vena, Pers. Sat. 6. 73. Lucr. l. 4. 1056. Conijcito humorem collectum in corpora quaeque. When raging lust excites a panting tumour, To diverse parts send that collected humour. And look to it in time, lest it vex you, if it have once seized on you. Si non prima novis conturbes vulnera plagis, Volgivagáque vagus Venere ante recentia cures, Lucr. l. 4. ●061. Unless the first wounds with new wounds you mix, And ranging cure the fresh with common tricks. I was once nearly touched with a heavy displeasure, according to my complexion; and yet more just than heavy: I had peradventure lost myself in it, had I only relied upon mine own strength. Needing a vehement diversion to withdraw me from it; I did by Art and study make myself a Lover, whereto my age assisted me; love discharged and diverted me from the inconvenience, which goodwill and amity had caused in me. So is it in all things else. A sharp conceit possesseth, and a violent imagination holdeth me: I find it a shorter course to alter and divert, then to tame and vanquish the same: if I cannot substitute a contrary unto it, at least I present another unto it. Change ever easeth, variety dissolveth, and shifting dissipateth. If I cannot buckle with it, I slip from it: and in shunning it, I stray and double from it. Shifting of place, exercise and company, I save myself amid the throng of other studies and ammusements, where it loseth my track, and so I slip away. Nature proceedeth thus, by the benefit of inconstancy: For, the time it hath bestowed on us, as a sovereign Physician of our passions, chiefly obtains his purpose that way, when fraughting our conceits with other and different affairs, it dissolveth and corrupteth that first apprehension, how forcible soever it be. A wise man seeth little less his friend dying at the end of five and twenty years, then at the beginning of the first year; and according to Epicurus, nothing less: for he ascribed no qualification of perplexities, either to the foresight or antiquity of them. But so many other cogitations cross this, that it languisheth, and in the end groweth weary. To divert the inclination of vulgar reports, Alcibiades cut off his fair dogs cares and tail, and so drove him into the market place; that giving this subject of prattle to the people, they might not meddle with his other actions. I have also seen some women, who to divert the opinions and conjectures of the babbling people, and to divert the fond tattling of some, did by counterfeit and dissembled affections, overshadow and cloak true affections. Amongst which I have noted some, who in dissembling and counterfeiting have suffered themselves to be entrapped wittingly and in good earnest; quitting their true and original humour for the feigned: of whom I learn, that such as find themselves well seated, are very fools to yield unto that mask. The common greetings, and public entertainments being reserved unto that set or appointed servant, believe there is little sufficiency in him, if in the end he usurp not your room and send you unto his. This is properly to cut out and stitch up a shoe, for another to put on. A little thing doth divert and turn us; for a small thing holas us. We do not much respect subjects in gross and alone: they are circumstances, or small and superficial images that move and touch us; and vain rinds which rebound from subjects. Folliculos ut nunc ter etes aestate cicadae Lucr. l. 5. 812. Linquunt. As grasshoppers in summer now forsake The round-grown sheaves, which they in time should take. Plutarch himself bewails his daughter by the fopperies of his childhood. The remembrance of a farewell, of an action, of a particular grace, or of a last commendation, afflict us. Caesar's gown disquieted all Rome, which his death had not done; The very sound of names, which gingleth in our ears, as, Oh my poor master; or, Alas my dear friend; Oh my good father; or, Alas my sweet daughter, When such like repetitions pinch me, and that I look more nearly to them, I find them but grammatical laments, the word and the ●●ne wound me. Even as Preachers exclamations do often move their auditory more, than their reasons; and as the pity full groan of a beast yerneth us though it be killed for our use; without poising or entering therewhilst, into the true and massy essence of my subject His se stimulis dolor ipse lacessit. Grief by these provocations. Lucan. l. 2. 42. Puts itself in more passions. They are the foundations of our mourning. The conceit of the stone, namely in the yard hath sometime for three or four days together, so stopped my urine, and brought me so near deathes-dore, that it had been mere folly in me, to hope, nay to desire, to avoid the same, considering what cruel pangs that painful plight did seize me with. Oh how cunning a master in the murdering art, or hangman's trade was that good Emperor, who caused malefactors yards to be fast-tide, that so he might make them die for want of pissing. In which ill plight finding myself, I considered by how flight causes and frivolous objects, imagination nourished in me the grief to lose my life: with what Atoms the consequence and difficulty of my dislodging was contrived in my mind; to what idle conceits and frivolous cogitations we give place in so weighty a case or important affair. A Dog, a Horse, a Hare a Glass, and what not? were corrupted in my loss. To others, their ambitious hopes, their purse, their learning; In my mind as sottishly. I view death carelessly when I behold it universally as the end of life. I overwhelm and contemn it thus in great, by retail it spoils and proules me. The tears of a Lackey, the distributing of my cast suits, the touch of a known hand, an ordinary consolation; doth disconsolate and ●ntende● me. So do the plaints and of fables trouble and vex our minds; and the wailing laments of Dydo, and Ariadne passionare even those, that believe them not in Virgil, nor in Catullus: It is an argument of an obstinate nature, and indurate hart, not to be moved therewith: as for a wonder, they report of Polemon: who was not so much as appalled, as the biting of a Dog, who took away the brawn or calf of his leg. And no wisdom goeth so far, as by the due judgement to conceive aright the evident cause of a Sorrow and grief, so lively and wholly that it suffer or admit no accession by presence, when eyes and ears have their share therein: parts that cannot be agitated but by vain accidents. Is it reason, that even arts should serve their purposes, and make their profit of our imbecility and natural blockishness? An Orator (saith Rhetoric) in the play of his pleading, shall be moved at the sound of his own voice, and by his feigned agitations; and suffer himself to be cozoned by the passion he representeth: imprinting a lively and essential sorrow, by the juggling he acteth, to transfer it into the judges, whom of the two it concerneth less: As the persons hired at our funerals, who to aid the ceremony of mourning, make sale of their tears by measure, & of their sorrow by weight. For although they strive to act it in a borrowed form, yet by habituating and ordering their countenance, it is certain they are often wholly transported into it, and entertain the impression of a true and unfeigned melancholy. I assisted amongst divers others of his friends, to convey the dead corpses of the Lord of Grammont from the siege of Laferre, where he was untimely slain, to Soissous. I noted that every where as we passed a long, we filled with lamentation and tears all the people we met, by the only show of our convoys mourning attire; for the deceased man's name was not so much as known, or hard of about those quarters. Quintilian reporteth, to have seen Comediants so far engaged in a sorrowful part, that they wept after being come to their lodgings: and of himself, that having undertaken to move a certain passion in another, he had found himself surprised not only with shedding of tears, but with a paleness of countenance, and behaviour of a man truly dejected with grief. In a country near our Mountains, the women say and unsay, weep and laugh with one breath: as Martin the Priest; for, as for their lest husbands they increase their way mentings by repetition of the good and graceful parts they were endowed with, therewithal under one they make public relation of those imperfections; to work, as it were some recompense unto themselves, and transchange their pity unto disdain; with a much better grace than we, who when we lose a late acquaintance, strive to load him with new and forged praises, and to make him far other, now that we are deprived of his sight, than he seemed to be when we enjoyed and beheld him. As if mourning were an instructing party; or tears cleared our understanding by washing the same. I renounce from this time forward all the favourable testimonies any man shall afford me, not because I shall deserve them, but because I shall be dead. If one demand that fellow, what interest he hath in such a siege; The interest of example (will be say) and common obedience of the Prince; I nor look nor pretend any benefit thereby; and of glory I know how small a portion cometh to the share of a private man, such as I am. I have neither passion nor quarrel in the matter; yet the next day shall you see him all changed, and chafing, boiling and blushing with rage, in his rank of battle, ready for the assault. It is the glaring reflecting of so much steel, the flashing thundering of the Cannon, the clang of trumpers, and the rattling of Drums, that have infused this new fury, and rancour in his swelling veins. A frivolous cause, will you say: How a cause? There needeth none to excite our mind. A doting humour without body, without substance overswayeth and tosseth it up and down, Let me think of building Castles in Spain, my imagination will forge me commodities and afford me means and delights wherewith my mind is really tickled and essentially gladded. How often do we pester our spirits with anger or sadness by such shadows, and entangle ourselves into fantastical passions which alter both our mind and body? what astonished, flearing and confsed mumps and mows doth this dotage stir up in our visages? what skippings and agitations of members and voice, seems it not by this man alone, that he hath false visions of a multitude of other men with whom he doth negotiate; or some inward Goblin that torments him? Inquire of yourself, where is the object of this alteration? Is there any thing but us in nature, except subsisting nullity? over whom it hath any power? Because Cambyses dreamt that his brother should be King of Persia, he put him to death; a brother whom he loved, and ever trusted. Aristodemus King of the Messenians killed himself; upon a conceit he took of some ill presage, by, I know not what howling of his Dogs, And King Midas did as much, being troubled and vexed by a certain unpleasing dream of his own. It is the right way to prise one's life at the right worth of it, to forego it for a dream. Hear notwithstanding our minds triumph over the body's weaknesses and misery; in that it is the prey and mark of all wrongs and alterations, to seed on and aim at. It hath surely much reason to speak of it. O prima infoelix fingenti terra Prometheo; Pro p. l. 3. el. 4. 7. Ille parum cauti pectoris egit opus. Corpora disponens, meant 'em non vidit in arte; Recta animi primum debuit esse via. Unhappy earth first by Prometheus form, Who of small providence a work performed: He framing bodies saw in art no mind? The minds way first should rightly be assigned. The fifth Chapter. Upon some verses of Virgil. PRofitable thoughts, the more full and solid they are, the more cumbersome and heavy are they; vice, death, poverty and diseases, are subjects that weigh and grieve. We must have our mind instructed with means to sustain and combat mischiefs, and furnished with rules how to live well and believe right: and often rouse and exercise it in this goodly study. But to a mind of the common stamp; it must be with intermission and moderation; it groweth weak, by being continually over-wrested: When I was young, I had need to be advertised and solicited to keep myself in office: Mirth and health (says one) suit not so well with these serious and grave discourses. I am now in another state. The conditions of age do but overmuch admonish, instruct and preach unto me. From the excess of jollity, I am fallen into the extreme of severity; more peevish and more untoward. Therefore, I do now of purpose somewhat give way unto licentious allurements; and now and then employ my mind in wanton and youthful conceits, wherein she recreates herself. I am now but too much settled; too heavy and too ripe. My years read me daily a lesson of coldness and temperance. My body shuneth disorder, and fears it: it hath his turn to direct the mind toward reformation; his turn also to rule and sway; and that more rudely and imperiously. Be I awake or a sleep, it doth not permit me one hour but to ruminate on instruction, on death, on patience and on repentance. As I have heretofore defended myself from pleasure, so I now ward myself from temperance: it haileth me too far back, and even to stupidity. I will now every way be master of myself. Wisdom hath her excesses, and no less need of moderation, than folly. So that least I should wither, tarnish and over cloy myself with prudence, in the intermissions my evils afford me; Mens intenta suis ne sict usque malis. ovid. Trist. li. 4. ●. 1. 4. Still let not the conceit attend, The ills that it too much offend. I gently turn aside, and steal mine eyes from viewing that tempestuous and cloudy sky, I have before me; which (thanks be to God) I consider without fear, but not without contention and study. And ammuse myself with the remembrance of passed youth-tricks: — animus quod perdidit, optat, Petron. Arb. Sa●. Atque in praeterita se totus imagine versat. The mind, what it hath lost, doth wish and cast, And turn and wind in Images forepast. That infancy looketh forward, and age backward; was it not that which janus his double visage signified? years entraine me if they please; but backward. As far as mine eyes can discern that fair expired season, by fits I turn them thitherward. If it escape my blood and veins, yet will I not root the image of it out of my memory: — hoc est, Mart. l. 10. epig. 23. 7. Vinere bis, vita posse priore frui, This is the way for any to live twice, Who can of former life enjoy the price. Plato appoints old men to be present at youthful exercises, dances and games, to make them rejoice at the body's agility and comeliness of others, which is now no longer in them; and call to their remembrance, the grace and favour of that blooming age: and willeth them to give the honour of the victory to that youngman, who hath gladded and made most of them merry. I was heretofore wont to note sullen and gloomy days, as extraordinary: now are they my ordinary ones; the extraordinary are my fair and clear days. I am ready to leap for joy, as at the receiving of some unexpected favour, when nothing grieveth me. Let me tickle myself, I can now hardly wrest a bare smile from this wretched body of mine. I am not pleased but in conceit and dreaming: by sleight to turn aside the wayward cares of age: but sure there's need of other remedies, then dreaming, A weak contention of art against nature. It is mere simplicity, as most men do, to prolong and anticipate human in commodities. I had rather be less while old, then old before my time. I take hold even of the least occasions of delight I can meet withal. I know by how hearsay divers kinds of wise, powerful and glorious pleasures: but opinionis not of sufficient force over me, to make me long for them. I would not have them so stately, lofty and disdainful; as pleasant gentle and Sen, cp 99 ready. A natura discedimus; populo nos damus, nullius rei bono auctori; We forsake nature, We follow the people author of no good. My Philosophy is in action, in natural and present little in conceit. What if I should be pleased to play at cob-nut, or whip a top? Non ponebat enim rumores ante salutem. Ennius. He did not prise what might be said, Before how all might safe be laid. Voluptuousness is a quality little ambitious; it holds itself rich enough of itself without any access of reputation; and is best affected where it is most obscured. That young man should deserve the whip. who would spend his time in choosing out the nearest Wine, and best sauces. There is nothing I ever knew or esteemed less: I now begin to learn it. I am much ashamed of it, but what can I do withal? and am more ashamed and vexed, at the occasions that compel me to it. It is for us to dally, dote and trifle out the time; and for youth to stand upon nice reputation, and hold by the better end of the staff. That creepeth towards the world and marcheth toward credit; we come from it. Sibi arma, sibi equos, sibi Cic. de Senectute. hastas, sibi clavam, sibi pilam, sibi natationes & cursus habeant: nobis senibus, ex lusionibus multis, talos relinquant, & tesseras; Let them keep their armour, their horses, their lances, their pole-axes, their tennis, their swimming, and their running; and of their many games, let them put over to us old men the tables and the cards. The very laws send us home to our lodgings. I can do no less in favour of this wretched condition, whereto my age forceth me, then furnish it with somewhat to dandle and ammuse itself, as it were childhood; for when all is done we fall into it again. And both wisdom and folly shall have much a do, by interchange offices to support and succour me in this calamity of age. Ho. l. 4. ●d. 12. 27. Misce stultitiam consilijs brevem. With short-like-foolish tricks, Thy gravest counsels mix. Withal I shun the lightest prickling; and those which heretofore could not have scratched me, do now transpierce me. So willingly my habit doth now begin to apply itself to evil: Cic. de. Sene. infragili corpore odiosa omnis offensio est: all offences is irksome to a crazed body. Mensque pati durum sustinet agra nihil. ovid. Pont. ●●. el. 6. 18. A sick mind can endure, No hard thing for her cure. I have ever been ticklish and nice in matters of offence, at this present I am more tender, and every where open. Et minimae vires frangere quassavalent. ovid. Trist. l. 3. el. 11. 22. Lest strength can break, Things worn and weak. Well may my judgement hinder me from spurning and repining at the inconveniences which nature allots me to endure; from feeling them it cannot. I could find in my heart to run from one end of the world to another, to search and purchase one year of pleasing and absolute tranquillity; I who have no other scope, then to live and be merry. Drowsy and stupid tranquility is sufficiently to be found for me, but it makes me drowsy and dizzy; therefore I am not pleased with it. If there be any body, or any good company in the country, in the city, in France, or any where else, resident travailing, that likes of my conceits, or whose humours are pleasing to me, they need but hold up their hand, or whistle in their fist, and I will store them with Essays, of pith and substance, with might and main. Seeing it is the minds privilege to renew and recover itself on old age, I earnestly advise it to do it: let it bud, blossom, and flourish if it can, as Misle-toe on a dead tree. I fear it is a traitor; so straightly is she clasped, and so hard doth she cling to my body, that every hand while she forsakes me; to follow her in her necessities. I flatter her in private, I urge her to no purpose; in vain I offer to divert her from this combination, and bootless it is for me to present her Seneca or Catullus, or Ladies, or stately dances; if her companion have the colic, it seems she also hath it. The very powers or faculties that are particular and proper to her, cannot then rouse themselves: they evidently seem to be enrheumed: there is no blithenesse in her productions, if there be none in the body. Our scholars are to blame, who searching the causes of our minds extraordinary fits and motions, beside they ascribe some to a divine fury, to love, to warlike fierceness, to Poesy, and to Wine; if they have not also allotted health her share. A health youthful, lusty, vigorous, full, ●dle, such as heretofore the April of my years and security offorded me by fits. That fire of iocondnesse stirreth up lively and bright sparkles in our mind, beyond our natural brightness and amongst the most working, if not the most desperate Enthusiasms or inspirasions. Well, it is no wonder if a contrary estate clog and nail my spirit, and draw from it a contrary effect. Ad nullum consurgit opus, cum corpore lauguet, Cor. Gal. el. 1. 125. It to no work doth rise, When body fainting lies. And yet would have me beholden to him, for lending (as he saith) much less to this consent, then beareth the ordinary custom of men. Let us at least whilst we have truce, chase all evils, and expel all difficulties from our society. Dum licet obduct a soluatur fronte senectus: With wrinkled wimpled for head let old years, Hor. epod. 13. 7. While we may, be rosolued to merry cheers. Tetrica sunt amoenanda iocularibus, Unpleasant things, and sour matters should be sweetened and made pleasant with sportefull mixtures. I love a lightsome and civil discretion, and loath a roughness and austerity of behaviour: suspecting every peevish and wayward countenance. Tristemque vultus tetrici arrogantiam. Of austere countenance, Mart. l. 7. epig 57 9 The sad sour arrogance. Et habet tristis quoque turba cynaedos, Fiddlers are often had, 'mongst people that are sad. I easily believe Plato, who saith, that easy or hard humours, are a great prejudice unto the minds goodness or badness. Socrates had a constant countenance, but light-some and smile: not frowardly constant, as old Crassus, who was never seen to laugh. Virtue is a pleasant and buxom quality. Few, I know will snarl at the liberty of my writings, that have not more cause to snarl at their thoughts-loosenes. I conform myself unto their courage, but I offend their eyes. It is a well ordered humour to wrest Plato's writings, and strain his pretended negotiations with Phedon, Dion, Stella, Archeanassa. Non pudeat dicere, quod non pudeat sentire. Let us not be ashamed to speak, what we shame not to think. I hate a way ward and sad disposition, that glideth over the pleasures of his life, and fastens and feeds on miseries. As flies that cannot cleave to smooth and sleek bodies, but seize and hold on rugged and uneven places. Or as Cupping-glasses, that affect and suck none but the worst blood. For my part I am resoluted to dare speak whatsoever I dare do: And am displeased with thoughts not to be published. The worst of my actions or conditions seem not so ugly unto me, as I find it both ugly and base not to dare to avouch them. Every one is wary in the confession; we should be as heedy in the action. The boldness offending is somewhat recompensed and restrained by the boldness of confessing▪ he that should be bound to tell all, should also bind himto do nothing which one is forced to conceal. God grant this excess of my licence draw men to freedom, beyond these cowardly and squeamish virtues, sprung from our imperfections; and that by the expense of my immoderation, I may reduce them unto reason. One must surpay his faults and study them, ere he be able to repeat them. Those which hide them from others, commonly conceal them also from themselves; and esteem them not sufficiently hidden, if themselves see them. They withdraw and disguise them from their own consciences. Quare vicia confitetur? Quia etiam nunc in illis est, somnium narrare vigilantis est. Why doth no S●n. ep. 53. 〈…〉. man confess his faults? Because he is yet in them; and to declare his dream, is for him that is waking. The body's evils are discerned by their increase. And now we find that to be the gout which we termed the rheum or a bruise. The evils of the mind are darkened by their own force; the most infected feeleth them least. Therefore is it, that they must often a day be handled, and violently be opened and rend from out the hollow of our bosom. As in the case of good; so of bad offices, only confession is sometimes a satisfaction. Is there any deformity in the error, which dispenseth us to confess the same? It is a pain for me to dissemble: so that I refuse to take charge of other men's secrets, as wanting hart to disavow my knowledge. I cannot conceal it; but deny it I cannot, without much a do and some trouble. To be perfectly secret, one must be so by nature; not by obligation. It is a small matter to be secret in the Prince's service, if one be not also a liar. He that demanded Thales Milesius, whether he should solemnly deny his lechery; had he come to me, I would have answered him, he ought not do it: for a lie is in mine opinion, worse than lechery. Thales advised him otherwise, bidding him swear, thereby to warrant the more by the less. Yet was not his counsel so much the election, as multiplication of vice. Whereupon we sometimes use this byword, that we deal well with a man of conscience, when in counterpoise of vice we propose some difficulty unto him? but when he is enclosed between two vices, he is put to a hard choice. As Origen was dealt with all, either to commit idolatry, or suffer himself to be Sodomaticaly abused by a filthy Egyptian slave, that was presented unto him; he yielded to the first condition, and viciously, saith one. Therefore should not those women be distasted, according to their error, who of late protest, that they had rather charge their conscience with ten men, than one Mass. If it be indiscretion so to divulge one's errors, there is no danger though it come into example and use, For Ariston said, that The winds men fear most, are those which discover them. We must tuck up this homely rag, that cloaketh our manners. They send their conscience to the stews, and keep their countenance in order. Even traitors and murderers observe the laws of compliments, and thereto ●ixe their endeavours. So that neither can injustice complain of incivility, nor malice of indiscretion. 't's pitry a bad man is not also a fool, a●d that decency should cloak his vice. These pargetting belong only to good and sound walls, such as deserve to be whited, to be preserved. In favour of Hugonots, who accuse our auricular and private confession, I confess myself in public; religiously and purely. Saint Augustine, origen, and Hypocrates, have published their errors of their opinions; I likewise of my manners. I greedily long to make myself known; nor care I at what rate, so it be truly: or to say better, I hunger for nothing; but I hate mortally to be mistaken by such as shall happen to know my name. He that doth all for honour and glory, what thinks he to gain by presenting himself to the world in a mask, hiding his true being from the people's knowledge? Commend a crook-back for his comely stature, he ought to take it as an injury: if you be a coward, and one honoureth you for a valiant man, is it of you he speaketh? you are taken for another: I should like as well, to have him glory in the curtsies and lowtings that are showed him, supposing himself to be ringleader of a troop when he is the meanest follower of it, Archelaus king of Macedon, passing through, a street some body cast water upon him, was advised by his followers to punish the party: yea but (quoth he) who ever it was, he cast not the water upon me, but upon him he thought I was. Socrates to one that told him he was railed upon and ill spoken of? Tush (said he) there is not such thing in me. For my part, should one commend me to be an excellent Pilot, to be very modest, or most chaste, I should owe him no thanks. Likewise should any man call meetraitour, thief or drunkard, I would deem myself but little wronged by him. Those who misknow themselves, may feed themselves with false approbations; but not I, who see and search myself into my very bowels, and know full well what belongs unto me. I am pleased to belesse commended, provided I be better known. I may be esteemed wise for such conditions of wisdom, that I account mere follies. It vexeth me, that my Essays serve Ladies in lieu of common ware and stuff for their hall: this Chapter will prefer me to their cabinet: I love their society some what private; their public familiarity wants favour and savour. In farewells we heat above ordinary our affections to the things we forego. I here take my last leave of this world's pleasures: lo here our last embraces. And now to our theme. Why was the act of generation made so natural, so necessary and so just, seeing we fear to speak of it without shame, and exclude it from our serious and regular discourses we pronounce boldly, to rob, to murder, to betray; and this we dare not but between our teeth. Are we to gather by it, that the less we breathe out in words the more we are allowed to furnish our thoughts with? For words lest used least written and least concealed should best be understood, and most generally known. No age, no condition are more ignorant of it, then of their bread. They are imprinted in each one, without expressing, without voice or figure. And the sex that doth it most, is most bound to suppress it. It is an action we have put in the precincts of silence, whence to draw it were an offence: not to accuse or judge it. Nor dare we beat it but in circumlocution and picture. A notable favour, to a criminal offender, to be so execrable, that justice deem it injustice to touch and behold him, freed and saved by the benefit of this condemnations' severity. It is not herein as in matters of books, which being once called-in and forbidden become more saleable and public? As for me, I will take Aristotle at his word, that bashfulness is an ornament to youth, but a reproach to age. These verses are preached in the old school; a school of which I hold more than of the modern: her virtues seem greater unto me, her vices less. Deux qui par trop fuiant Venus estriveut Failent aut aut que ceux qui trop la suivent. Who strives over much Venus to shun, offends Alike with him, that wholly her intends, Tu dea, tu rerum naturam sola gubernas, Lucr. l. 1. 22. Nec sine te quisquam dias in luminis oras Exoritur, neque fit laetum, nec amabile quicquam, Goddess, thou rul'st the nature of all things. Without thee nothing into this light springs. Nothing is lovely, nothing pleasures brings. I know not who could set Pallas and the Muses at odds with Venus, and make them cold and flow in affecting of love; as for me, I see no Deities that better suit together, nor more indebted one to another. Who▪ ever shall go about to remove amorous imaginations from the Muses, shall deprive them of the best entertainment they have, and of the noblest subject of their work: and who shall debar Cupid the service and conversation of Poesy, shall weaken him of his best weapons. By this means they cast upon the God of acquaintance, of amity and goodwill; and upon the Goddesses, protectresses of humanity, and justice, the vice of ingratitude, and imputation of churlishness. I have not so long been cashiered from the state and service of this God, but that my memory is still acquainted with the force of his worth and valour. — agnosco veteris vestigia flammae. Virg. Ae●. l. 4. 23. I feel and feeling know, How my old flames regrow. There commonly remain some relics of shivering and heat after anague, Nec mihi d● ficiat●alor hic, hyemantibu, annis. When Winter years common, Let not this heat be gone. As dry, as sluggish and as unwieldy as I am, I feel yet some warm cinders of my passed heat. Qual'● alto Aegeo perch Aquiloneo Noto Cessi che tutto prima il volse et scosse, Nons ' accheta ei peró, ma il suono ●'l moto, Ritien delionde anco agitat●●t gross. As grand Aegean Sea, because the voice Of winds doth cease, which it before enraged, Yet doth not calm, but still retains the noise And motion of huge billows unaswaged. But for so much as I know of it, the power and might of this God, are found more quick and lively in the shadow of the Poesy, then in their own essence. Et versus digitos habet. Verses have full effect, Of fingers to erect, Iwen. Sat. 6. 197. It representeth a kind of air more lovely than love itself. Venus is not so fair, nor so alluring all naked, quick and panting, as she is here in Virgil. Dixerat, & niveis hinc atque hinc diua lacertis Virg. Ae●. l. 8. 387. Cunctant●m amplexu mollifovet:Ille repent Accepit folitam flammam, notusque medullas Intravit calor, & labefacta per ossa cucurrit. Nonsecus atque olim tonitru cum rupta corusco, Ignea rima micans percurrit lumine nimbos. So said the Goddess, and with soft embrace, Of Snow-white arm, the grim-fire doth enchase, He strait took wont fire, known heat at once, His marrow pierced, ran through his weakened bones; As fiery flash with thunder doth divide, With radiant lightning through a storm doth glide. — ea verba locutus, Optatos dedit amplexus, placidumque petivit. Ibi▪ 404. Coniugis infusus gremio per membra soporem. A sweet embrace, when he those words had said He gave, and his limbs pleasing-rest he prayed To take in his wives bosom lolling-laide. What therein I find to be considered, is, that he depainteth her somewhat stirring for a marital Venus. In this discreet match, appetites are not commonly so fondling; but drowsy and more sluggish. Love disdaineth a man should hold of other than himself, and dealeth but faintly with acquaintances begun and entertained under another title; as marriage is. Alliances, respects and means, by all reason, weigh as much or more, as the grace and beauty. A man doth not marry for himself, whatsoever he allegeth; but as much or more for his posterity and family. The use and interest of marriage concerneth our offspring, a great way beyond us. Therefore doth this fashion please me, to guide it rather by a third hand, and by another's sense, than our own: All which, how much doth it descent from amorous conventions? Nor is it other than a kind of incest, in this reverend alliance and sacred bond, to employ the efforts and extravagant humour of an amorous licentiousness, as I think to have said elsewhere. One should (saith Aristotle) touch his wife soberly, discreetly and severely, lest that tickling too lasciviously, pleasure transport her beyond the bounds of reason. What he speaketh for conscience, Physicians allege for health: saying that pleasure excessively hot, voluptuous and continual, altereth the seed, and hindereth conception. Some other say beside, that to a languishing congression (as naturally that is) to store it with a cowenient, and fertile heat, one must but seldom, and by moderate intermissions present himself unto it. Quo rapiet sitiens venerem interiusque recondat. Virg Geor l. 3. 137. Thirsting to snatch a fit, And inly harbour it. I see no marriages fail sooner, or more troubled, than such as are concluded for beauty's sake, and huddled up for amorous desires. There are required more solid foundations, and more constant grounds, and a more wary marching to it: this earnest youthly heat serveth to no purpose. Those who think to honour marriage, by joining love unto it (in mine opinion) do as those, who to do virtue a favour, hold, that Nobility is no other thing than Virtue. Indeed these things have some affinity; but therewithal great difference: their names and titles should not thus be commixed: both are wronged so to be confounded. Nobility is a worthy, goodly quality, and introduced with good reason; but in as much as it dependeth on others, and may fall to the share of my vicious and worthless fellow, it is in estimation far short of virtue. If it be a virtue, it is artificial and visible; relying both on time and fortune; divers in form, according unto countries; living and mortal; without birth, as the river Nilus genealogical and common; by succession and similitude; drawn along by consequence, but a very weak one. Knowledge, strength, goodness, beauty, wealth and all other qualities fall within compass of commerce and communication: whereas this consumeth itself in itself, of no employment for the service of others. One proposed to one of our Kings the choice of two competitors in one office, the one a Gentleman, the other a Yeoman: he appointed that without respect unto that quality, he who deserved best should be elected; but were their valour or worth fully alike, the Gentleman should be regarded: this was justly to give nobility her right and rank. Antigonus, to an unknown youngman, who sued unto him for his father's charge, a man of valour and who was lately deceased: My friend (quoth he) in such good turns, I weigh not my soldiers noble birth, so much as their sufficiency. Of truth it should not be herein, as with the officers of Spartan kings; Trumpeters, Musicians, Cooks, in whose room their children succeeded, how ignorant soever, before the best experienced in the trade. Those of Calicut make of their nobility a degree above human. Marriage is interdicted them, and all other vocations, saving war. Of Concubines they may have as many as they list, and women as many lechardes, without Jealousy one of another. But it is a capital crime, and unremissible offence to contract or marry with any of different condition: Nay they deem themselves disparaged and polluted, if they have but touched them in passing by. And as if their honour were much injuried and interressed by it, they kill those who but approach some what to near them. In such sort, that the ignoble are bound to cry as they walk along, like the Gondoliers or watermen of Venice along the streets, lest they should justle with them: and the nobles command them to what side of the way they please. Thereby do these avoid an obloquy which they esteem perpetual; and those an assured death. No continuance of time, no favour of Prince, no office, no virtue, nor any wealth can make a clown to become a gentleman. Which is much furthered by this custom, that marriages of one trade with another are strictly for bidden. A Shoemaker cannot marry with the race of a Carpenter; and parents are precisely bound to train up orphans in their father's trade, and in no other. Whereby the difference, the distinction and continuance, of their fortune is maintained. A good marriage (if any there be) refuseth the company and conditions of love; it endeavoureth to present those of amity. It is a sweet society of life, full of constancy, of trust, & an infinite number of profitable and solid offices, and mutual obligations: No woman that thoroughly and impartially tasteth the same, (Optat● quam iunxit lumine taeda Whom loves-fire joined in double band, Cat●l. co●. Ber. 79. With wished light of marriage brand) would forego her estate to be her husband's master. Be she lodged in his affection, as a wife, she is much more honourably and surely lodged. Be a man passionately entangled in any unlawful lust or love, let him then be demanded on whom he would rather have some shame or disgrace to alight; either on his lawful wife, or on his lechard mistress whose misfortune would afflict him most, and to whom he wisheth greater good or more honour. These questions admit no doubt in an absolute sound marriage. The reason we see so few good, is an apparent sign of its worth, and a testimony of its price. Perfectly to fashion and rightly to take it, is the worthiest and best part of our society. We cannot be without it, and yet we disgrace and vilify the same. It may be compared to a cage, the birds without despair to get in, and those within despair to get out. Socrates being demanded, whether was most commodious, to take, or not to take a wife; Which soever a man doth (quoth he) he shall repent it. It is a match whereto may well be applied the common saying, homo homini aut Deus, aut▪ Lupus. Man unto man is either Eras▪ chil. 1. cent. 169. 70. a God or a Wolf▪ to the perfect erecting whereof are the concurrences of divers qualities required: It is now a days found most fit or commodious for simple minds and popular spirits whom dainties, curiosity and idleness do not so much touble. Licentious humours, debauched conceits (as are mine) who hate all manner of duties, bonds, or observances are not so fit, so proper, and so suitable for it. Et mihi dulce magis resolute vivere collo. Cor. Gal. el. ●. 61. Sweeter it is to me, with loose neck to live free. Of mine own disposition, would wisedoome itself have had me, I should have refused to wed her. But we may say our pleasure; the custom and use of common life over beareth us. Most of my actions are guided by example, and not by election: Yet did I not properly invite myself unto it, I was led and brought thereunto by strange and unexpected occasions: For, not only incommodious things, but foul, vicious and inevitable, may by some condition and accident become acceptable and allowed. So vain is man's posture and defence. And truly I was then drawn unto it, being but ill prepared and more backward, then now I am that have made trial of it. And as licentious as the world reputes me, I have (in good truth) more strictly observed the laws of wedlock, then either I had promised or hoped. It is no longer time to wince when one hath put on the shackles. A man ought wisely to husband his liberty; but after he hath once submitted himself unto bondage, he is to stick unto it by the laws of common duty or at least enforce himself to keep them. Those which undertake that covenant to deal therein with hate and contempt, do both injustly and incommodiously. And that goodly rule I see pass from hand to hand among women, as a sacred Oracle, Serston mary come master: Et t'en guard come d'un traistre. Your husband as your master serue-yee: From him as from false friend preserue-yee. which is as much to say; Bear thyself toward him with a constrained, enemy and distrustful reverence (a style of war, and cry of defiance) is likewise injurious and difficult. I am to mild for such crabbed designs. To say truth, I am not yet come to that perfection of sufficiency and quaintness of wit, as to confound reason with injustice: and laugh or scoff at each order or rule, that jumps not with my humour. To hate superstition, I do not presently cast myself into irreligion. If one do not always discharge his duty, yet ought he at least ever love, ever acknowledge it: It is treason for one to marry unless he wed. But go we on. Our Poet describeth a marriage full of accord and good agreement, wherein notwithstanding there is not much loyalty. Did he mean it was not possible to perform loves rights, and yet reserve some rights toward marriage; and that one may, bruise it, without altogether breaking it? A servant may pick his master's purse, and yet not hate him. Beauty, opportunity, destiny, (for destiny hath also a hand therein) — fatum est in partibus illis. 〈…〉. 〈…〉. 9 32 Quas sinus abscondit; nam si tibi fideracassent, N●l faciet longi mensura incognita nervi. In those parts there is fate, which hidden are; If then thou be not wrought-for by thy star, The measure of long nerves, unknown to nothing serves. have entangled a wo●an to a stranger, yet peradventure not so absolutely but that some bond may be left to hold her to her husband. They are two designs, having several and unconfounded paths leading to them. A woman may yield to such a man, whom in no case she would have married. I mean not for the conditions of his fortune, but for the qualities of his person. Few men have wedded their sweet hearts, their paramours or mistresses, but have come home by weeping Cross, and ere long repent their bargain. And even in the other world, what an unquiet life leads jupiter with his wife, whom before he had secretly known, and lovingly enjoyed? This is as they say, to bewray the panier, and then put it on your head. Myself have seen in some good place, love, shamefully and dishonestly cured by marriage: the considerations are to much different. We love without disturbance to ourselves; two diverse and in themselves contrary things. Isocrates said, that the town of Athens pleased men, even as Ladies do whom we serve for affection. Every one loved to come thither, to walk and pass away the time: but none affected to wed it: that is to say, to endenison, to dwell and habituate himself therein. I have (and that to my spite and grief) seen husbands hate their wives, only because themselves wronged them: Howsoever, we should not love them less for our faults; at least for repentance and compassion they ought to be dearer unto us. These are different ends (saith he) and yet in some sort compatible. Wedlock hath for his share honour, justice, profit and constancy: a plain, but more general delight. Love melts in only pleasure; and truly it hath it more ticklish, more lively, more acquaint, and more sharp: a pleasure inflamed by difficulty: there must be a kind of stinging, tingling and smarting. It is no longer love, be it once without Arrows, or without fire. The liberality of Ladies is to profuse in marriage, and blunts the edge of affection and desire. To avoid this inconnenience, see the punishment inflicted by the laws of Lycurgus and Plato. But Women are not altogether in the wrong, when they refuse the rules of life prescribed to the World, forsomuch as only men have established them without their consent. There is commonly brawling and contention between them and us. And the nearest consent we have with them, is but stormy and tumultuous. In the opinion of our Author, we herein use them but inconsiderately. After we have known, that without comparison they are much more capable and violent in Loves-effectes than we, as was testified by that ancient Priest, who had been both man and woman, and tried the passions of both sexes. Venus' huic erat utraque nota: Of both sorts he knew venery. ovid. Meta. l. 3. 323. Tiros. We have moreover learned by their own mouth, what trial was made of it, though in diverse ages, by an Emperor and an Empress of Rome, both skilful and famous masters in lawless lust and unruly wantonness; for he in one night deflowered ten Sarmatian virgins, that were his captives; but she really did in one night also, answer five and twenty several assaults, changing her assailants as she found cause to supply her need, or fit her taste, — adhuc ardens rigidae tentigine vuluae julens. Sat. 6. 127. Et lass●ta viris, non dum satiata recessit. and that upon the controversy happened in Catalogne, between a wife and a husband; she complaining on his over violence and continuance therein (not so much in my conceit, because she was thereby overlabored (for but by faith I believe not miracles) as under this pretext, to abridge and bridle the authority of husbands over their wives, which is the fundamental part of marriage: And to show that their frowning, sullenness and peevishness exceed the very nuptial bed, and trample underfoot the very beauties, graces and delights of Venus; to whose complaint her husband, a right churlish and rude fellow answered, that even on fasting days he must needs do it ten times at least) was by the Queen of Arragon given this notable sentence: by which after mature deliberation of counsel, the good Queen to establish a rule and imitable example unto all posterity, for the moderation and required modesty in a lawful marriage, ordained the number of six times a day, as a lawful, necessary and competent limit. Releasing and diminishing a great part of her sex's need and desire: to establish (quoth she) an easy form, and consequently permanent and immutable. Here upon doctors cry out; what is the appetite and lust of women, when as their reason, their reformation and their virtue, is retailed at such a rate? considering the divers judgement of our desires: for Solon master of the lawyers school alloweth but three times a month, because this matrimonial intercourse should not decay or fail. Now after we believed (say I) and preached thus much, we have for their particular portion allotted them continency; as their last and extreme penalty. There is no passion more importunate than this, which we would have them only to resist: Not simply, as a vice in itself, but as abhemination and execration, and more than irreligion and parricide; whilst we ourselves without blame or reproach offend in it at our pleasure. Even those amongst us, who have earnestly laboured to overcome lust, have sufficiently vowed, what difficulty, or rather vn● esistable impossibility they found in it,▪ using nevertheless material remedies, to tame, to weaken and cool the body. And we on the other side would have them sound, healthy, strong, in good liking, well-fed and chaste together, that is to say, both hot and cold. For marriage which we averie should hinder them from burning, affords them but small refreshing, according as our manners are. If they meet with a husband, whose force by reason of his age is yet boiling, he will take a pride to spend it elsewhere: Sit tandem pudor, aut eamus inius, Mart l. 12. epig. 99 10. Multis mentula millibus redempta, Non est haec tua, Basse, vendidisti. The Philosopher Polemon was justly called in question by his wife, for sowing in a barren field the fruit due to the fertile. But if they match with broken stuff in full wedlock, they are in worse case than either virgins or widows. We deem them sufficiently furnished, if they have a man lie by them. As the Romans reputed Clodia Laeta a vestal virgin deflowered, whom Caligula had touched, although it was manifestly proved he had but approached her: But on the contrary, their need or longing is thereby increased; for but the touch or company of any man whatsoever stirreth up their heat, which in their solitude was hushed▪ and quiet, and lay as cinders raked up in ashes. And to the end, as it is likely, to make by this circumstance and consideration their chastity more meritorious: Bòlestaus and Kingè his wife, King and Queen of Poland, lying together, the first day of their marriage vowed it with mutual consent, and in despite of all wedlock commodity of nuptiall-delightes maintained the same. Even from their infancy we frame them to the sports of love: their instruction, behaviour, attire, grace, learning and all their words aimeth only at love, respects, only affection. Their nurses and their keepers imprint no other thing in them, than the loveliness of love, were it but by continually presenting the same unto them, to distaste them of it: My daughter (all the children I have) is of the age wherein the laws excuse the forwardest to marry. She is of a slow, nice and mild complexion, and hath accordingly been brought up by her mother, in a retired and particular manner: so that she beginneth but now to put-off childish simplicity. She was one day reading a French book before me, an obscene word came in her way (more bawdy in sound then in effect, it signifieth the name of a Tree and another thing) the woman that looks to her, stayed her presently, and somewhat churlishly making her step over the same: I let her alone, because I would not cross their rules, for I meddle nothing with this government; women's policy hath a mystical proceeding, we must be content to leave it to them. But if I be not deceived, the conversation of twenty laqueis could not in six months have settled in her thoughts, the understanding, the use and consequences of the found belonging to those filthy syllables, as did that good old woman by her check and interdiction. Motus doceri gaudet jonicos Matura virgo, et fingitur artubus Id r. ca▪ ●. 3. ●d ● 21. I am nunc, et incestos amores De tenero meditatur ungui. Maids mariage-ripe strait to be taught delight jonique dances, framed by art aright In every joint, and e'en from their first hair Incestuous loves in meditation bear. Let them somewhat dispense with ceremonies, let them fall into free liberty of speech; we are but children, we are but gulls, in respect of them, about any such subject. Hear them relate how we sue, how we woo, how we solicit and how we entertain them, they will soon give you to understand, that we can say, that we can do, and that we can bring them nothing, but what they already knew, and had long before digested without us. May it be) as Plato saith) because they have one time or other been themselves wanton, licentious and amorous lads? Mine ears happened one day in a place, where without suspicion they might listen and steal some of their private, lavish and bold discourses; oh why is it not lawful for me to repeat them? Birlady (quoth I to myself) It is high time indeed for us to go study the phrases of Amadis, the metaphors of Aretine, and eloquence of Boccace, thereby to become more skilful, more ready and more sufficient to confront them: surely we bestow our time well; there is nor acquaint phrase, nor choice word, nor ambiguous figure, nor pathetical example, nor love-expressing gesture, nor alluring posture, but they know them all better than our books: It is a cunning bred in their veins and will never out of the flesh, Et mentem Venus ●psa dedit. Virg. Geor l 3. 267. Venus herself assigned, To them both means and mind, which these skill infusing Schoole-mistrisses nature, youth, health and opportunity, are ever buzzing in their ears, ever whispering in their minds: They need not learn, not take pains about it; they beget it; with them it is borne. Nec tantum niveo gavisa est nulla columbe Compar, vel si quid dicitur improbius, Catul. ●leg 4. 125. Oscula mordenti semper decerpererostro: Quantum praecipuè multivola est mulier. No pigeon's hen, or pair, or what worse name You list, makes with her Snow-white cock such game, With biting bill to catch when she is kissed, As many minded women when they list. Had not this natural violence of their desires been somewhat held in awe, by fear and honour, wherewith they have been provided we had all been defamed. All the world's motions bend and yield to this conjunction: it is a matter everywhere infused; and a Centre whereto all lines come, all things look. The ordinances of ancient and wise Rome, ordained for the service and instituted for the behoof of love, are yet to be seen: together with the precepts of Socrates to instruct courtesans. Nec non libelli Stoici inter sericos Hor. Epod. 8. 15. jacere puluillos amant. Even Stoics books are pleased Amidst silk cushions to be eased. Zeno among other laws, ordered also the strugglings, the opening of legs, and the actions, which happen in the deflowering of a virgin. Of what sense was the book of Sirato the Philosopher, of carnal copulation? And whereof treated Theophrastus in those he entitled, one The Lover, the other, Of Love? Whereof Aristippus in his volume Of ancient deliciousness or sports? What implied or what imported the ample and lively descriptions in Plato, of the loves practised in his days? And the lover of Demetrius Phalereus? And Clinias, or the forced lover of Heraclides Ponticus? And that of Artisthenes, of the getting of children, or of weddings? And the other, Of the Master or of the lover? And that of Aristo, Of amorous exercises? Of Cleanthes, one of love, another of the Art of love? The amorous dialogues of Spherus? And the filthy intolerable, and without blushing not to be uttered table of jupiter and juno, written by Chrysippus? And his so lascivious fifty Epistles? I will omit the writings of some Philosophers, who have followed the sect of Epicurus, protectress of all manner of sensuality and carnal pleasure. Fifty several Deities were in times past allotted to this office. And there hath been a nation found, which to allay and cool the lustful concupiscence of such as came for devotion, kept wenches of purpose in their temples to be used; and it was a point of religion to deal with them before one went to prayers. Nimirum propter continentiam incontinentia necessaria est, incendiumignibus ex●inguitur. Belike we must be incontinent that we may be continent, burning is quenched by fire. In most places of the world, that part of our body was Deified. In that same province, some flayed it to offer, and consecrated a piece thereof; others offered and consecrated their seed. In another the youngmen did publicly pierce, and in diverse places open their yard between flesh and skin, and thorough the holes put the longest and biggest sticks they could endure, and of those sticks made afterward a fire, for an offering to their Gods, and were esteemed of small vigour and less chastity, if by the force of that cruel pain they showed any dismay. Elsewhere, the most sacred magistrate was reverenced and acknowledged by those parts. And in diverse ceremonies the portraiture thereof was carried and showed in pomp and state, to the honour of sundry Deities. The Egyptian Dames in their Bacchanalian feasts wore a wooden one about their necks, exquisitely fashioned, as huge and heavy as every one could conveniently bear: besides that which the statue of their God represented, which in measure exceeded the rest of his body. The married women hereby, with their Coverchefs frame the figure of one upon their foreheads; to glory themselves with the enjoying they have of it; and coming to be widows, they place it behind, and hide it under their quoifes. The greatest and wisest matrons of Rome, were honoured for offering flowers and garlands to God Priapus. And when their Virgins were married, they (during the nuptials) were made to sit upon their privities. Nor am I sure, whether in my time, I have not seen a glimpse of like devotion. What meant that laughtermooving, and maids looke-drawing piece our Fathers wore in their breeches, yet extant among the Swissers? To what end is at this present day the show of our formal pieces under our Gascoine hoses? and often (which is worse) above their natural greatness, by falsehood and imposture? A little thing would make me believe, that the said kind of garment was invented in the best and most upright ages, that the world might not be deceived, and all men should yield a public account of their sufficiency. The simplest nations have it yet somewhat resembling the true form. Then was the workman's skill instructed, how it is to be made, by the measure of the arm or foot. That good-meaning man, who in my youth, throughout his great city, caused so many fair, curious and ancient statues to be gelded, left the sense of seeing might be corrupted, following the advice of that other good ancient man; Flagitij principium est nudare inter cives corpora: Cie. Tusc. l. 4. En. 'mongst civil people sin, By bearing bodies we begin. should have considered, how in the mysteries of the good Goddess, all appearance of man was excluded; that he was no whitneerer, if he did not also procure both horses and asses, and all length nature herself to be gelded. Omne adeo genus in torris, hominumque, ferarumque, Virg. Georg. l. 3. 244. Et genus ●quoreum, pecudes, pictaeque volucres, In furias ignemque ruunt. All kinds of things on earth, wild beasts, mankind, Field-beasts, faire-fethered fowl, and fish (we find) Into love's fire and fury run by kind. The Gods (saith Plato) have furnished man with a disobedient, skittish, and tyrannical member; which like an untamed furious-beast, attempteth by the violence of his appetite to bring all things under his beck. So have they allotted women another as insulting, wild and fierce; in nature like a greedy, devouring, and rebellious creature, who if when he craveth it, he be refused nourishment, as impatient of delay, it enrageth; and infusing that rage into their bodies, stoppeth their conduits, hindereth their respiration, and causeth a thousand kinds of inconveniences; until sucking up the fruit of the general thirst, it have largely bedewed and enseeded the bottom of their matrix. Now my lawgiver should also have considered, that peradventure it were a more chaste and commodiously fruitful use, betimes to give them a knowledge and taste of the quick; then according to the liberty and heat of their fantasy, suffer them to guess and imagine the same. In am of true essential parts, they by desire surmise, and by hopesubstitute others, three times as extravagant. And one of my acquaintance was spoiled, by making open show of his in place, where yet it was not convenient to put them in possession of their more serious use. What harm cause not those huge draughts or pictures, which wanton youth with chalk or coals draw in each passage, wall, or stairs of our great houses? whence a cruel contempt of our natural store is bred in them. Who knoweth, whether Plato ordaining amongst other well-instituted Commonwealths, that men and women, old and young, should in their exercises or Gymnastickes, present themselves naked one to the sight of another, aimed at that or no? The Indian women, who daily without interdiction view their men all over, have at least wherewith to assuage and cool the sense of their seeing. And whatsoever the women of that great kingdom of Pegu say, who from their waste downward, have nothing to cover themselves but a single cloth slit before; and that so strait, that what nice modesty, or ceremonious decency soever they seem to affect, one may plainly at each step see what God hath sent them: that it is an invention or shift devised to draw men unto them, and withdraw them from other men or boys, to which unnatural brutish sin that nation is wholly addicted: it might be said, they lose more than they get: and that a full hunger is more vehement, than ●ne which hath been glutted, be it but by the eyes. And Livia said, that to an honest woman, a naked man is no more than an Image. The Lacedaemonian women, more virgin-wives, then are our maidens, saw every day the young men of their city, naked at their exercises: themselves nothing precise to hide their thighs in walking, esteeming themselves (saith Plato) sufficiently clothed with their virtue, without vardingall. But those, of whom S. Augustine speaketh, have attributed much to nakedness, who made a question, whether women at the last day of judgement should rise again in their proper sex, and not rather in ours, lest even then they tempt us in that holy state. In sum, we lure and every way flesh them: we uncessantly inflame and incite their imagination: and then we cry out, but oh, but oh the belly. Let us confess the truth, there are few amongst us, that fear not more the shame they may have by their wife's offences, then by their own vices; or that cares not more (oh wondrous charity) for his wives, than his own conscience; or that had not rather be a thief and church-robber, and have his wife a murderer and an heretic, than not more chaste than himself. Oh impious estimation of vices. Both we and they are capable of a thousand more hurtful and unnatural corruptions, then is lust or lasciviousness. But we frame vices and weigh sins, not according to their nature, but according to our interest; whereby they take so many different unequal forms. The severity of our laws makes women's inclination to that vice, more violent and faulty, then it's condition beareth; and engageth it to worse proceedings then is their cause. They will readily offer rather to follow the practice of law, and plead at the bar for a fee, or go to the wars for reputation, then in the midst of idleness and deliciousness be tied to keep so hard a Sentinel, so dangerous a watch. See they not plainly, how there is neither Merchant, Lawyer, Soldier, or Churchman, but will leave his accounts, forsake his client, quit his glory and neglect his function, to follow this other business? And the burden bearing porter, souterly cobbler, and toilefull labourer, all harassed, all besmeared, and all bemoiled, through travel, labour and trudging, will forget all, to please himself with this pleasing sport. Num tu quae tenuit dives Achaemenes, H●r. car. l. 2. ●●. 12. 21. Aut pinguis Phrygiae Mygdonias opes, Permutare velis crine Liciniae, Plenas aut Arabum domos, Dum fragrantia detorquet ad os●ula Ceruicem, aut facili saevitianegat, Quae poscente magis ga●deat eripi, Interdum rapere occupet? Would you exchange for your fair mistress hair, All that the rich Achaemenes did hold, Or all that fertile Phrygias' soil doth bear, Or all th' Arabians store of spice and gold? Whilst she to fragrant kisses turns her head, Or with a courteous coyness them denies; Which more than he that speeds she would have sped, And which sometimes to snatch she foremost hies? I wot not whether Caesar's exploits, or Alexander's achievements exceed in hardiness the resolution of a beauteous young woman, trained after our manner, in the open view and uncontrolled conversation of the world, solicited and battered by so many contrary examples, exposed to a thousand assaults and continual pursuits, and yet still holding herself good and unvanquished. There is no point of doing more thorny, nor more active, than this of not doing. I find it easier, to bear all one's life a cumbersome armour on his back, than a maidenhead. And the vow of virginity, is the noblest of all vows, because the hardest. Diaboli virtus in lumbis est: Hier●n. The devils master-point lies in our loins, saith S. Jerome. Surely we have resigned the most difficult and vigorous devoir of mankind unto women, and quit them the glory of it, which might stead them as a singular motive to opinionate themselves therein: and serve them as a worthy subject to brave us, and trample under feet that vain pre-eminence of valour and virtue we pretend over them. They shall find (if they but heed it) that they shall thereby not only be highly regarded, but also more beloved. A gallant undaunted spirit leaveth not his pursuits for a bare refusal; so it be a refusal of chastity, and not of choice. We may swear, threaten and wailingly complain; we lie, for we love them the better. There is no enticing lure to wisdom and secret modesty; so it be not rude, churlish, and froward. It is blockishness and baseness to be obstinately wilful against hatred and contempt: But against a virtuous and constant resolution, matched with an acknowledging mind, it is the exercise of a noble and generous mind. They may accept of our service unto a certain measure, and make us honestly perceive how they disdain us not: for, the law which enjoineth them to abhor us, because we adore them; and hate us, forsomuch as we love them; is doubtless very cruel, were it but for its difficulty. Why may they not listen to our offers, and not gainsay our requests, so long as they contain themselves within the bounds of modesty▪ Wherefore should we imagine, they inwardly affect a freer meaning? A Queen of our time said wittily, that to refuse men's kind summons, is a testimony of much weakness, and an accusing of one's own facility: and that an unattempted Lady could not vaunt of her chastity. Honour's limits are not restrained so short; they may somewhat be slacked, and without offending somewhat dispensed withal. At the end of his frontiers▪ there is left a free, indifferent, and neuter space. He that could drive and force his mistress into a corner, and reduce her into her fort, hath no great matter in him, if he be not content with his fortune. The price or honour of the conquest is rated by the difficulty. Will you know what impression your merits, your services and worth have made in her heart? judge of it by her behaviour and disposition. Some one may give more, that (all things considered) giveth not so much. The obligation of a benefit hath wholly reference unto the will of him that giveth: other circumstances which fall within the compass of good-turns, are dumb, dead and casual. That little she giveth may cost her more, than all her companion hath. If rareness be in any thing worthy estimation, it ought to be in this. Respect not how little it is, but how few have it to give. The value of money is changed according to the coin, stamp or mark of the place. Whatsoever the spite or indiscretion of some, may upon the excess of their discontentment, make them say; Virtue and truth do ever recover their advantage. I have known some, whose reputation hath long time been impeached by wrong, and intere●●ed by reproach, restored unto all men's good opinion and general approbation, without care or Art, only by their constancy; each repenting and denying what he formerly believed. From wenches somewhat suspected, they now hold the first rank amongst honourable Ladies. Some told Plato, that all the world spoke ill of him; Let them say what they list (quoth he) I will so live, that I'll make them recant and change their speeches. Besides the fear of God, and the reward of so rare a glory, which should incite them to preserve themselves, the corruption of our age enforceth them unto it: and were I in their clothes, there is nothing but I would rather do, then commit my reputation into so dangerous hands. In my time, the pleasure of reporting and blabbing what one hath done (a pleasure not much short of the act itself in sweetness) was only allowed to such as had some assured, trusty and singular friend; whereas nowadays, the ordinary entertainments and familiar discourses of meetings and at tables, are the boastings of favours received, graces obtained, and secret liberalities of Ladies. Verily it is too great an abjection, and argueth a baseness of heart, so fiercely to suffer those tender, dainty, deliciousioies, to be persecuted, pelted, and foraged by persons so ungrateful, so undiscreet, and so giddyheaded. This our immoderate and lawless exasperation against this vice, proceedeth and is bred of jealousy; the most vain and turbulent infirmity that may afflict man's mind. Quis vetat appo●ito lumen de lumine sumi? O●id. Art. Amand●. 3. 93. Dent licet assiduè, nil tamen inde perit. To borrow light of light, who would deny? Though still they give, nothing is lost thereby. That, and Envy her sister, are (in mine opinion) the fondest of the troop. Of the latter, I cannot say much; a passion which how effectual and powerful soever they set forth; of her good favour she meddleth not with me. As for the other, I know it only by sight. Beasts have some feeling of it. The shepherd Cratis being fallen in love with a she Goat, her Buck for jealousy beat out his brains as he lay asleep. We have raised to the highest strain the excess of this moody fever, after the example of some barbarous nations: The best disciplined have therewith been tainted, it is reason; but not carried away by it: Ense maritali nemo confossus adulter, Purpureo stygias sanguine tinxit ●quas. With husband's sword yet no adultrer slain, With purple blood did Stygian waters stain. Lucullus, Caes●r, Pompey, Anthoni●, Cato, and diverse other gallant men were Cuckolds, and knew it, though they made no stir about it. There was in all that time but one gullis●● coxcomb Lepidus, that died with the anguish of it. Ah tum te miserum malique fati, C●tu●. lyr. epig. 15. 17. Quem attractis pedibus patente porta, Percurrent mugilesque raphanique. Ah thee then wretched, of accursed fate, Whom Fishwives, Redish-wives of base estate, Shall scoffing overrun in open gate. And the God of our Poet, when he surprised one of his companions napping with his wife, was contented but to shame them: Atque aliquis de iis non tristibus optat, O●id. Met. l. 4. 187. Sic fieri turpis. Some of the merrier Gods doth wish in heart, To share their shame, of pleasure to take part. And yet forbeareth not to be inflamed with the gentle dalliances, and amorous blandishments she offereth him, complaining that for so slight a matter he should distrust her to him deare-deare affection: Quid causas pet is ex alto? ●iducia cessit ●●rg. Aen. l. 2. 395. Quo tibi Divamei? So far why fetch you your pleas pedigree? Whither is fled the trust you had in me? And which is more, she becomes a suitor to him in the behalf of a bastard of hers, Arma rogo genitrix nato. Ibid. 382. A mother for a son, I crave, An armour he of you may have. Which is freely granted her: And Vulcan speaks honourably of Aeneas: Arma acrifacienda viro. Ibid. 441. An armour must be hammered out, For one of courage stern and stout. In truth with an humanity, more than human. And which excess of goodness by my consent shall only be left to the Gods: Nec divis homines componier aequum est. Catul. eleg. 4. 141. Nor is it meet, that men with Gods Should be compared, there is such odds. As for the confusion of children, besides that the gravest lawmakers appoint and affect it in their Commonwealths, it concerneth not women, with whom this passion is, I wot not how, in some sort better placed, fitter seated. Saepe etiam Iuno maxima coelicolum Catul. eleg. 4. 138. Coniugis in culpa flagravit quotiaiana. Even juno chief of Goddesses oft time, Hath grown hot at her husband's daily crime. When jealousy once seizeth on these silly, weak, and unresisting souls, 'tis pitiful, to see, how cruelly it tormenteth, how insultingly it tyrannizeth them. It insinuateth itself under colour of friendship: but after it once possesseth them, the same causes which served for a ground of goodwill, serve for the foundation of mortal hatred. Of all the minds diseases, that is it, whereto most things serve for sustenance, and fewest for remedy. The virtue, courage, health, merit and reputation of their husbands, are the firebrands of their despite, and motives of their rage. Nullae sunt inimicitiae nisi amoris acerbae. Prop. l. 2. el. 8. 3. No enmities so bitter prove, And sharp, as those which spring of love. This consuming fever blemisheth and corrupteth all that otherwise is good and goodly in them. And how chaste or good a housewife soever a jealous woman is, there is no action of hers, bu● tasteth of sharpness and smaks of importunity. It is a furious perturbation, a moody agitation, which throws them into extremities altogether contrary to the cause. The success of one Octavius in Rome was strange, who having lain with, and enjoyed the love of Pontia Post humia, increased his affection by enjoying her, and instantly sued to marry her; but being unable to persuade her, his extreme passionate love precipitated him into effects of a most cruel, mortal and inexorable hatred; whereupon he killed her. Likewise the ordinary Symptoms or passions of this other amorous disease, are intestine hates, sly Monopolies, close conspiracies: Notumque, furens quid foemina possit. Virg. Aen. l. 5. 6 It is known what a woman may, Whose raging passions have no stay. And a raging spite, which so much the more fretteth itself, by being forced to excuse itself under pretence of goodwill. Now the duty of chastity hath a large extension and farre-reaching compass. Is it their will, we would have them to bridle? That's a part very pliable and active. It is very nimble and quick-rolling to be stayed. What? If dreams do sometimes engage them so far, as they cannot dissemble nor deny them; It lieth not in them (nor perhaps in chastity itself, seeing she is a female) to shield themselves from concupiscence and avoid desiring. If only their will interest and engage us, where and in what case are we? Imagine what great throng of men there would be, in pursuit of this privilege, with winged-speed (though without eyes and without tongue) to be conveyed upon the point of every woman that would buy him. The Scythian women were wont to thrust out the eyes of all their slaves and prisoners taken in war, thereby to make more free and private use of them. Oh what a furious advantage is opportunity! He that should demand of me, what the chief or first part in love is, I would answer, To know how to take fit time; even so the second, and likewise the third. It is a point which may do all in all. I have often wanted fortune, but sometimes also enterprise. God shield him from harm, that can yet mock himself with it. In this age more rashness is required; which our youths excuse under colour of heat. But should our women look nearer unto it, they might find, how it rather proceedeth of contempt. I superstitiously feared to offend; and what I love, I willingly respect. Besides that, who depriveth this merchandise of reverence, defaceth all lustre of it. I love that a man should therein somewhat play the child, the dastard and the servant. If not altogether in this, yet in some other things I have some airs or motives of the sottish bashfulness, whereof Plutarch speaketh; and the course of my life hath diversely been wounded and tainted by it: a quality very ill beseeming my universal form. And what is there amongst us, but sedition and ●arring? Mine eyes be as tender to bear a refusal, as to refuse; and it doth so much trouble me to be troublesome to others, that where occasions force me or duty compelleth me to try the will of any one, be it in doubtful things, or of cost unto him, I do it but faintly and much against my will: But if it be for mine own private businesle (though Homer say most truly, that in an indigent or needy man, bashfulness is but a ●ond virtue) I commonly substitute a third party, who may blush in my room: and direct them that employ me, with like difficulty: so that it hath sometimes befallen me, to have the will to deny, when I had not power to refuse. It is then folly, to go about to bridle women of a desire, so fervent and so natural in them. And when I hear them brag to have so virginlike a will and cold mind, I but laugh and mock at them. They recoil too far backward. If it be a toothlessebeldame or decrepit grandam, or a young dry pthisicke siarveling; if it be not altogether credible, they have at least some colour or appearance to say it. But those which stir about, and have a little breath left them, mar but their market with such stuff: forsomuch as inconfiderate excuses are no better than accusations. As a Gentleman my neighbour, who was suspected of insufficiency, Languidi●● tenera cui pendens sicula beta, Ca●●l. ●le. 3. 21. Nunquam se mediam sustulis ad tunicam. to justify himself, three or four days after his marriage, swore confidently, that the night before, he had performed twenty courses: which oath hath sinceserved to convince him of mere ignorance, and to divorce him from his wife. Besides, this allegation is of no great worth: For, there is nor continency nor virtue, where no resistance is to the contrary. It is true, may one say, but I am not ready to yield. The Saints themselves speak so. This is understood of such as boast in good earnest of their coldness and insensibility, and would be credited with a serious countenance: for, when it is from an affected look (where the eyes give words the lie) and from the faltering speech of their profession (which ever works against the wool) I allow of it. I am a duteous servant unto plainness, simplicity and liberty: but there is no remedy, if it be not merely plain, simple or infantine; it is fond, inept and unseemly for Ladies in this commerce: it presently inclineth and bendeth to impudency. Their disguise, their figures and dissimulations cozen none but fools; there lying sitteth in the chair of honour; it is a by-way, which by a false postern leads us unto truth. If we cannot contain their imaginations, what require we of them? the effects? Many there be, who are free from all strangers-communication, by which chastity may be corrupted, and honesty defiled. Illud saepe facit, quod fine teste facit. M●●t. l. 7. epig. 6●. 6. What she doth with no witness to it, She often may be found to do it. And those whom we fear least, are per adventure most to be feared: their secret sins are the worst. Offender moecha simpliciore minus. Pleased with a whore's simplicity, Ibid. l. 6. epig. 7. 6. Offended with her nicety. There are effects, which without impurity may lose them their pudicitie; and which is more, without their knowledge. Obstetrix virginis cuiusdam integritatem manu velut explorans, sive malevolentia, sive inscitia, sive c●su, dum inspicit, perdidit: A Midwife searching with her finger into a certain maiden's virginity, either for ill will, or of unskilfulness, or by chance, whilst she seeks and looks into it, she lost and spoiled it. Some one hath lost or wronged her virginity in looking or searching for it; some other killed the same in playing with it. We are not able precisely to circumscribe them the actions we forbid them: Our law must be conceived under general and uncertain terms. The very Idea we forge unto their chastity is ridiculous. For, amongst the extremest examples or patterns I have of it, it is Fatua the wife of Faunas, who after she was married, would never suffer herself to be seen of any man whatsoever. And Hierons' wife; that never felt her husband's stinking breath, supposing it to be a quality common to all men. It were necessary, that to satisfy and please us, they should become insensible and invisible. Now let us confess, that the knot of the judgement of this duty consisteth principally in the will. There have been husbands who have endured this accident, not only without reproach and offence against their wives, but with singular acknowledgement, obligation and commendation to their virtue. Some one that more esteemed her honesty than she loved her life, hath prostituted the same unto the lawless lust and raging sensuality of a mortal hateful enemy, thereby to save her husband's life; and hath done that for him, which she could never have been induced to do for herself. This is no place to extend these examples: they are too high and over-rich, to be presented in this lustre: let us therefore reserve them for a nobler seat. But to give you some examples of a more vulgar stamp: Are there not women daily seen amongst us, who for the only profit of their husbands, and by their express order and brokage, make sale of their honesty? And in old times Phau●ius the Argian, through ambition offered his to king Philip. Even as that Galba, who bestowed a supper on Maecenas, perceiving him and his wife begin to bandy eie-trickes and signs, of civility shrunk down upon his cushion, as one oppressed with sleep; to give better scope unto their love; which he avouched as prettily: for at that instant, a servant of his presuming to lay hands on the plate which was on the table, he cried outright unto him; How now varlet? Seest thou not I sleep only for Maecenas? One may be of a loose behaviour, yet of purer will and better reform, than another who frameth herself to a precise appearance. As some are seen complain because they vowed chastity before years of discretion or knowledge: so have I seen others unfeignedly bewail and truly lament that they were vowed to licentiousness and dissoluteness before the age of judgement and distinction. The parent's lewdness may be the cause of it; or the force of impulsive necessity, which is a shrewd counsellor, and a violent persuader. Though chastity were in the East India's of singular esteem, yet the custom permitted, that a married wife might freely betake herself to what man soever did present her an Elephant: and that which some glory, to have been valued at so high a rate. Phedon the Philosopher, of a noble house, after the taking of his country Elis, professed to prostitute the beauty of his youth to all comers, so long as it should continue, for money to live with and bear his charges. And Solon was the first of Greece (say some) who by his laws, gave women liberty, by the price of their honesty, to provide for their necessities: A custom which Herodotus reporteth, to have been entertained before him in diverse commonwealths. And moreover, what fruit yields this careful vexation? For, what justice soever be in this passion, yet should we note whether it harry us unto our profit or no. Thinks any man that he can ring them by his industry? Pone seram, cohibe; sed quis custodiet ipsos Custodes? cauta est, & ab illis incipit uxor. Inveu. Sat. 6. 247. Keep her with lock and key: but from her who shall keep Her Keepers? She begins with them, her wits so deep, What advantage sufficeth them not, in this so skilful age? Curiosity is every where vicious; but herein pernicious. It is mere folly for one to seek to be resolved of a doubt, or search into a mischief; for which there is no remedy, but makes it worse, but festereth the same: the reproach whereof is increased, and chiefly published by jealousy: and the revenge whereof doth more wound and disgrace our children, than it helpeth or graceth us. You waste away and die in pursuit of so concealed a mystery of so obscure a verification. Whereunto how piteously have they arrived, who in my time have attained their purpose? If the accuser, or intelligencer present not withal the remedy and his assistance, his office is injurious, his intelligence harmful, and which better deserveth a stab, then doth a lie. We flout him no less, that toileth to prevent it, then laugh at him that is a Cuckold and knows it not. The character of cuckoldry is perpetual; on whom it once fasteneth, it holdeth for ever. The punishment bewrayeth it more than the fault. It is a goodly fight, to draw our private misfortunes from out the shadow of oblivion or dungeon of doubt, for to blazon and proclaim them on Tragical Stages: and misfortunes which pinch us not, but by relation. For (as the saying is) she is a good wife, and that a good marriage, not that is so indeed, but whereof no man speaketh. We ought to be wittily-wary to avoid this irk some, this tedious and unprofitable knowledge. The Romans were accustomed, when they returned from any journey, to send home before, and give their wife's notice of their coming, that so they might not surprise them. And therefore hath a certain nation instituted the Priest to open the way unto the Bridegroom, on the wedding day, thereby to take from him the doubt and curiosity of searching in this first attempt, whether she come a pure virgin to him, or be broken and tainted with any former love. But the world speaks of it. I know a hundred Cuckolds, which are so, honestly and little undecently. An honest man and a gallant spirit, is moaned, but not disesteemed by it. 'Cause your virtue to suppress your mishap; that honest-minded men may blame the occasion, and curse the cause; that he which offends you, may tremble with only thinking of it. And moreover, what man is scotfree, or who is not spoken of in this sense, from the meanest unto the highest? — tot qui legionibus imperitavit, Lu●r. l. 3. 1070 Et melior quam tu mult is fuit, improbe, rebus. He that so many bands of men commanded, Thy better much, sir knave, was much like branded. Seest thou not how many honest men, even in thy presence, are spoken of and touched with this reproach? Imagine than they will be as bold with thee, and say as much of thee elsewhere. For no man is spared. And even Ladies will scoff and prattle of it. And what do they now adays more willingly flout at, then at any well-composed and peaceable marriage? There is none of you all but hath made one Cuckold or other: Now nature stood ever on this point, Kae me I'll kae thee, and ever ready to be even, always on recompenses and vicissitude of things, and to give as good as one brings. The long-continued frequency of this accident, should by this time have seasoned the bitter taste thereof: It is almost become a custom. Oh miserable passion, which hath also this mischief, to be incommunicable. for'rs etiam nostris invidit quaestibus aures. Catul. her. Ar●on. 170. Fortune even ears envied, To hear us when we cried. For, to what friend dare you entrust your grievances, who, if he laugh not at them, will not make use of them, as a direction and instruction to take a share of the quarie or booty to himself? As well the sourness and inconveniences, as the sweetness and pleasures incident to marriage, are secretly concealed by the wiser sort. And amongst other importunate conditions belonging to wedlock, this one, unto a babbling fellow as I am, is of the chiefest; that tyrannous custom makes it uncomely and hurtful, for a man to communicate with any one all he knows and thinks of it. To give women advice to distaste them from jealousy, were but time lost or labour spent in vain. Their essence is so infected with suspicion, with vanity and curiosity, that we may not hope to cure them by any lawful mean. They often recover of this infirmity by a form of health, much more to be feared, than the disease itself. For even as some enchantment cannot rid away an evil, but with laying it on another, so when they lose it, they transfer and bestow this malady on their husbands. And to say truth, I wot not whether a man can endure any thing at their hands worse than jealousy: of all their conditions it is most dangerous, as the head of all their members. Pittaeus' said, that every man had one imperfection or other: his wives cursed pate was his; and but for that, he should esteem himself most happy. It must needs be a weighty inconvenience, wherewith so just, so wise and worthy a man, felt the state of his whole life distempered: what shall we petty fellows do then? The Senate of Marceille had reason to grant and enrol his request, who demanded leave to kill himself, thereby to free and exempt himself from his wives tempestuous scolding humour; for it is an evil, that is never clean rid away, but by removing the whole piece: and hath no other composition of worth, but flight or sufferance; both tootoo hard, God knows. And in my conceit, he understood it right, that said, a good marriage might be made between a blind woman and a deaf man. Let us also take heed, lest this great and violent strictness of obligation we enjoin them, produce not two effects contrary to our end: that is to wit, to set an edge upon their suitors stomachs, and make women more easy to yield. For, as concerning the first point, enhancing the price of the place, we raise the price and endear the desire of the conquest. Might it not be Venus herself, who so cunningly enhanced the market of her ware, by the brokage or panderizing of the laws? knowing how sottish and tastlesse a delight it is, were it enabled by opinion, and endeared by dearness? To conclude, it is all but hogs flesh, varied by sauce, as said Flaminius his host. Cupid is a roguish God; his sport is to wrestle with devotion and to contend with justice. It is his glory, that his power checketh and copes all other might, and that all other rules give place to his. Materiam culpae prosequiturque suae. Ovid. Trist. l. ●. el. 1. 34. He prosecutes the ground, Where he is faulty found. And as for the second point; should we not be less Cuckolds if we less feared to be so? according to women's conditions: whom inhibition inciteth, and restraint inviteth. Vbi velis nolunt, ubi nolis volunt vl●r●: Ter. Eunuc. act. 4. sc●. 6. Lucan. l. 2. 4●●. They will not when you will, When you will not, they will. Concessâpudet ire viâ. They are ashamed to pass The way that granted was. What better interpretation can we find concerning Messalina's demeanour? In the beginning she made her silly husband Cuckold, secretly and by stealth (as the fashion is) but perceiving how uncontrolled and easily she went on with her matches, by reason of the stupidity that possessed him, she presently contemned and forsook that course, and began openly to make love, to avouch her servants, to entertain and favour them in open view of all men; and would have him take notice of it, and seem to be distasted with it: but the silly gull and senseless coxombe awaked not for all this, and by his over-base facility, by which he seemed to authorize and legitimate her humours, yielding her pleasures weerish, and her amours tasteless: what did she? Being the wife of an Emperor, lusty, in health and living; and where? In Rome, on the world's chief Theatre, at high noonday, at a stately feast, in a public ceremony; and which is more, with one Silius, whom long time before she had freely enjoyed, she was solemnly married one day that her husband was out of the City. Seems it not that she took a direct course to become chaste, by the retchlessness of her husband? or that she sought another husband, who by jealousy might whet her appetite, and who insisting might incite her? But the first difficulty she met with, was also the last. The drowsy beast roused himself and suddenly started up. One hath often the worst bargains at the hands of such sluggish loggerheads. I have seen by experience, that this extreme patience or longsufferance, if it once come to be dissolved, produceth most bitter and outrageous revenges: for, taking fire all at once, choler and fury huddling all together, becoming one confused chaos, clattereth forth their violent effects at the first charge. Irarumque omnes ●ffundit habenas. Virg. A●●. l. 12. 499. It quite lets lose the rain, That anger should restrain. He caused both her and a great number of her instruments and abettors to be put to death, yea such as could not do withal, and whom by force of whipping she had alured to her adulterous bed. What Virgil saith of Venus and Vulcan, Lucretius had more suitably said it of a secretly-stolne enjoying between her and Mars. — belli far a munera Mav●rs Lucret. l. 1. 33. Armipotens regit, in gremium qui saepe tuum se Reijcit, aeterno devinctus vulnere amoris: Pascit amore avidos inhians in te Dea visus, Eque tuo pendet resupini spiritus ore: Hunc tu Diva tuo recubantem corpore sancto Circunfusa super, suaveis ex ore loquelas fund. Mars mighty-armed, rules the fierce feats of arms, Yet often casts himself into thine arms, Obliged thereto by endless wounds of love, Gaping on thee feeds greedy sight with love, His breath hangs at thy mouth who upward lies; Goddess thou circling him, while he so lies, With thy celestial body, speeches sweet power from thy mouth (as any Nectar sweet.) When I consider this, reijcit, pascit, inhians, molli, fovet, medullas, labefacta, pendet, percurrit, and this noble circunfusa, mother of gentle infusus; I am vexed at these small points and verbal allusions, which since have sprung up. To those well-meaning people, there needed no sharp encounter or witty equivocation: Their speech is altogether full and massy, with a natural and constant vigour: They are all epigram; not only tail, but head, stomach and feet. There is nothing forced, nothing wrested, nothing limping; all marcheth with like tenor. Contextus totus virilis est, non sunt circa flosculos occupati. The whole composition or text is manly, they are not bebusied about Rhetoric flowers. This is not a soft acquaint eloquence, and only without offence, it is sinnowie, material, and solid; not so much delighting, as filling and ravishing, and ravisheth most the strongest wits, the wittiest conceits. When I behold these gallant forms of expressing, so lively, so nimble, so deep: I say not this is to speak well, but to think well. It is the quaintness or liveliness of the conceit, that elevateth and puffs up the words. Pectus est quod disertum facit. It is a man's own breast, that makes him eloquent. Our people term judgement, language; and full conceptions, fine words. This portraiture is directed not so much by the hands dexterity, as by having the object more lively printed in the mind. Gallus speaks plainly, because he conceiveth plainly. Horace is not pleased with a sleight or superficial expressing, it would betray him; he seeth more clear and further into matters: his spirit picks and ransacketh the whole storehouse of words and figures, to show and present himself; and he must have them more than ordinary, as his conceit is beyond ordinary. Plutarch saith, that he discerned the Latin tongue by things. here likewise the sense enlighteneth and produceth the words: no longer windy or spongy, but of flesh and bone. They signify more than they utter. Even weak ones show some image of this. For, in Italy, I spoke what I listed in ordinary discourses, but in more serious and pithy, I durst not have dared to trust to an Idiom, which I could not wind or turn beyond its common grace, or vulgar bias. I will be able to add and use in it somewhat of mine own. The managing and employment of good wits, endeareth and giveth grace unto a tongue: Not so much innovating as filling the same with more forcible and diverse services, wresting, straining and enfolding it. They bring no words unto it, but every their own, waigh-downe and cramme-in their signification and custom; teaching it unwonted motions; but wisely and ingenuously. Which skill how little it is given to all, may plainly be discerned by most of our modern French Writers. They are overbold and scornful, to shun the common trodden path: but want of invention and lack of discretion looseth them. There is nothing to be seen in them but a miserable strained affectation of strange Inke-pot terms; harsh, cold and absurd disguisements, which in stead of raising, pull down the matter. So they may gallantize and flush it in novelty, they care not for efficacy. To take hold of a new far-fetched word, they neglect the usual, which often are more significant, forcible and sinnowy. I find sufficient store of stuff in our language, but some defect of fashion. For there is nothing but could be framed of our Hunter's gibberish words or strange phrases, and of our Warriors peculiar terms; a fruitful and rich soil to borrow off. And as herbs and trees are bettered and fortified by being transplanted, so forms of speech are embellished and graced by variation. I find it sufficiently plenteous, but not sufficiently pliable and vigorous. It commonly faileth and shrinketh under a pithy and powerful conception. If your march therein be far extended, you often feel it droop and languish under you, unto whose default the Latin doth now and then present his helping hand, and the Greek to some others. By some of these words which I have culled out, we more hardly perceive the Energi● or effectual operation of them, forsomuch as use and frequency have in some sort abased the grace and made their beauty vulgar. As in our ordinary language, we shall sometimes meet with excellent phrases, and acquaint metaphors, whose blitheness fadeth through age, and colour is tarnish by to common using them. But that doth nothing distaste those of sound judgement, nor derogate from the glory of those ancient Authors, who, as it is likely were the first that brought these words into lustre, and raised them to that strain. The Sciences handle this over finely, with an artificial manner, and different from the vulgar and natural form. My Page makes love, and understands it feelingly; Read Leon Hebraeus or Ficinus unto him; you speak of him, of his thoughts and of his actions, yet understands he nothing what you mean. I nor acknowledge nor discern in Aristotle, the most part of my ordinary motions. They are clothed with other robes, and shrouded under other vestures, for the use of Academical schools. God send them well to speed: but were I of the trade, I would naturalise Art, as much as they Artize nature. Benbo and Equicola. When I write, I can well omit the company, and spare the remembrance of books; for fear they interrupt my form. And in truth good Authors deject me too-toomuch, and quail my courage. I willingly imitate that Painter, who having bungler-like drawn, and fond represented some Cocks, forbade his boys to suffer any live Cock to come into his shop. And to give myself some lustre or grace have rather need of some of Antinonydes the Musicians invention; who when he was to play any music, gave order that before or after him, some other bad musicians should cloy and surfeit his auditory. But I can very hardly be without Plutarch; he is so universal and so full, that upon all occasions, and whatsoever extravagant subject you have undertaken, he intrudeth himself into your work, and gently reacheth you a helpeaffording hand, fraught with rare embellishments, and inexaustible of precious riches. It spites me, that he is so much exposed unto the pillage of those which haunt him. He can no sooner come in my sight, or if I cast but a glance upon him, but I pull some leg or wing from him. For this my dissignement, it much fitteth my purpose, that I write in mine own house, in a wild country, where no man helpeth or releeveth me; where I converse with no body that understands the Latin of his Paternoster and as little of French. I should no doubt have done it better else where, but then the work had been less mine: whose principal drift and perfection, is to be exactly mine; I could mend an accidental error, whereof I abound in mine unwary course; but it were a kind of treason to remove the imperfections from me, which in me are ordinary and constant. When any body else, or myself have said unto myself: Thou art to full of figures or allegories; here is a word meerely-bred Gaskoyne; that's a dangerous phrase: (I refuse none that are used in the frequented streets of France; those that will combat use and custom by the strict rules of Grammar do but jest) there's an ignorant discourse, that's a paradoxical relation; or there's a foolish conceit: thou dost often but dally: one will think thou speakest in earnest, what thou hast but spoken in jest▪ Yea (say I) but I correct unadvised, not costumarie errors. Speak I not so every where? Do I not lively display myself? that sufficeth; I have my will; All the world my know me by my book, and my book by me: But I am of an Apish and imitating condition. When I meddled with making of verses (and I never made any but in Latin) they evidently accused the Poet I came last from reading: And of my first Essays, some taste a little of the stranger. At Paris I speak somewhat otherwise then at Montaigne. Whom I behold with attention, doth easily convey and imprint something of his in me. What I heedily consider, the same I usurp: a foolish countenance, a crabbed look, a ridiculous manner of speech. And vices more: Because they prick me, they take fast hold upon me, and leave me not, unless I shake them off. I have more often been heard to swear by imitation, then by complexion. Oh injurious and dead-killing imitation: like that of those huge in greatness and matchless in strength Apes, which Alexander met withal in a certain part of India: which otherwise it had been hard to vanquish. But by this their inclination to counterfeit whatsoever they saw done, they afforded the means. For, thereby the Hunters learned in their sight to put on shoes, and tie them with many strings and knots; to dress their heads with diverse strange attires, full of sliding-knots; and dissemblingly to rub their eyes with Glue, or Birde-lime. So did those silly harmless beasts indiscreetly employ their Apish disposition. They ensnared, glued, entrameled, haltred and shackled themselves. That other faculty of Extempore and wittily representing the gestures and words of another, which often causeth sport and breedeth admiring, is no more in me then in a block. When I swear after mine own fashion, it is only by God; the directest of all oaths. They report that Socrates swore by a Dog; Zeno by that interjection (now a days used amongst the Italy's) Cappari; and Pythagoras by water and by air. I am so apt at unawares to entertain these superficial impressions, that if but for three days together I use myself to speak to any Prince with your Grace or your Highness, for eight days after I so forget myself, that I shall still use them for your Honour or your Worship: and what I am wont to speak in sport or jest the next day after I shall speak in good serious earnest. Therefore in writing I assume more unwillingly much beaten arguments, for fear I handle them at others charges. All arguments are alike fertile to me. I take them upon any trifle. And I pray God this were not undertaken by the commandment of a mind as fleeting. Let me begin with that likes me best for all matters are linked one to another. But my conceit displeaseth me, for somuch as it commonly produceth most foolish dotages from deepest studies; and such as content me on a sudden, and when I least look for them; which as fast fleet away, wanting at that instant some hold fast. On horseback, at the table, in my bed; but most on horseback, where my amplest meditations and my farthest reaching conceits are. My speech is somewhat nicely jealous of attention and silence; if I be in any earnest talk, who interrupteth me, cuts me off. In travel, even the necessity of ways breaks off discourses. Besides that I most commonly travel without company, which is a great help for continued reasonings; whereby I have sufficient leisure to entertain myself. I thereby have that success I have in dreams; In dreaming I commend them to my memory (for what I dream I do it willingly) but the next morning, I can well call to mind what colour they were of, whether blithe, sad or strange; but what in substance, the more I labour to find out, the more I overwhelm them in oblivion. So of casual and unpremeditated conceits that come into my brain, nought but a vain image of them remaineth in my memory; so much only, as sufficeth unprofitably to make me chafe, spite and fret in pursuit of them. Well then, leaving books aside and speaking more materially and simply; when all is done, I find that love is nothing else but an insatiate christ of enjoying a greedily desired subject. Nor Venus that good housewife, other, than a tickling delight of emptying one's seminary vessels: as is the pleasure which nature giveth us to discharge other parts: which becometh faulty by immoderation, and defective by indiscretion. To Socrates, love is an appetite of generation by the mediation of beauty. Now considering oftentimes the ridiculous tickling, or titilation of this pleasure, the absurd, giddy and harebrained motions wherewith it tosseth Zeno, and agitates Cratippus; that unadvised rage, that furious and with cruelty inflamed visage in loves lustful and sweetest effects: and then a grave, stern, severe surly countenance in so fond-fond an action, that one hath pellmell lodged our joys and filthes together: and that the supremest voluptuousness both ravisheth and plaineth, as doth sorrow: I believe that which Plato says to be true, that man was made by the Gods for them to toy and play withal. — quanam ista ioc a●●di Ssuitia? What cruelty is this, so set on jesting is? And that Nature in mockery left us the most troublesome of our actions, the most common▪ thereby to equal us, and without distinction to set the foolish and the wise, us and beasts all in one rank: no barrel better Hearing. When I imagine the most contemplative and discreetly-wise-men in these terms in that humour, I hold him for a cozener, for a cheater to seen either studiously contemplative, or discreetly wise. It is the foulness of the peacocks feet, which doth abate his pride, and stoop his gloatiug-eyed tail; — ridentem dicere verum, Quid vetat? What should forbid thee sooth to say, yet be as merry as we may. Hor. ser. l. 1▪ sat. 2. 24. Those which in plays refuse serious opinions, do as one reporteth, like unto him who dreadeth to adore the image of a Saint, if it want a cover, an approne or a tabernacle. We feed full well, and drink like beasts; but they are not actions that hinder the offices of our mind. In those, we hold good our advantage over them; whereas this brings each other thought under subjection, and by its imperious authority make-brutish and dulleth all Plato's philosophy and divinity; and yet he complains not of it. In all other things you may observe decorum and maintain some decency: all other operations admit some rules of honesty: this cannot only be imagined, but vicious or ridiculous. See whether for example sake, you can but find a wise or discreet proceeding in it. Alexander said, that he knew himself mortal chiefly by this action, and by sleeping: sleep doth stifle, and suppresseth the faculties of our soul; and that, both endeavoureth and dissipates them. Surely it is an argument not only of our original corruption, but a badge of our vanity and deformity. On the one side nature urgeth us unto it; having thereunto combined, yea fastened, the most noble, the most profitable, and the most sensually-pleasing, of all her functions; and on the other suffereth us to accuse, to condemn and to shun it, as insolent, as dishonest and as lewder to blush at it, and allow, yea and to commend abstinence. Are not we most brutish, to term that work beastly which begets, and which maketh us? Most people have concurred in divers ceremonies of religion, as sacrifices, luminaries, fastings, incensing, offerings; and amongst others, in condemning of this action. All opinions agree in that, besides the so far extended use of circumcision. We have perad venture reason to blame ourselves, for making so foolish a production as man, and to entitle both the deed and parts thereto belonging, shameful (mine are properly so at this instant). The Esseniens, of whom Plinte speaketh, maintained themselves a long time without nurses, or swaddling clothes, by the arrival of strangers that came to their shores, who seconding their fond humour, did often visit them. A whole nation hazarding rather to consume, then engage themselves to feminine embracements; and rather lose the succession of all men, then forge one. They report that Zeno never dealt with woman but once in all his life; which he did for civility, lest he should over obstinately seem to contemn the sex. Each one avoideth to see a man borne, but all run hastily to see him die. To destroy him we seek a spacious field and a full light; but to construct him, we hide ourselves in some dark corner, and work as close as we may. It is our duty to conceal ourselves in making him; it is our glory, and the original of many virtues to destroy him, being framed. The one is a manifest injury, the other a greater favour; for Aristotle saith, that in a certain phrase where he was borne, to bonifie or benefit, was as much to say as to kill one. The Athenians, to equal the disgrace of these two actions being to cleanse the I'll of Delos, and justify themselves unto Apollo, forbade within that precinct all burial and births. Nostri nosmet poenitet, We are weary of ourselves. There are some nations that when they are eating, they cover themselves. I know a Lady (yea one of the greatest) who is of opinion that to chew is an unseemly thing, which much empaireth their grace Ter. Phor. and beauty: and therefore by her will she never comes abroad with an appetite. And a man that cannot endure one should see him eat; and shuneth all company more when he filleth, than when he emptieth himself. In the Turkish Empire there are many, who to excel the rest, will not be seen when they are feeding, and who make but one meal in a week: who mangle their face and cut their limbs; and who never speak to any body; who think to honour their nature, by disnaturing themselves: oh fantastical people, that prize themselves by their contempt, and mend their impairing. What monstrous beast is this that makes himself a horror to himself, whom his delights displease, who ties himself unto misfortune? some there are that conceal their life, Exilioque▪ domos & dulcia limina mutant. Virg Geor l. 2. 51 ●. They change for banishment, The places that might best content. and steal it from the sight of other men: That eschew health, and shun mirth as hateful qualities and harmful. Not only divers Sects, but many people curse their birth and bless their death. Some therebe that abhor the glorious Sun, and adore the hideous darkness. We are not ingenious but to our own vexation: It is the true food of our spirits force: a dangerous and most unruly implement. O miseri quorum gaudia crimen habent, Corn. Gal. ●l. 1. 188. O miserable they, whose joys in fault we lay. Alas poor silly man, thou hast but tootoo many necessary and unavoidable incommodities, without increasing them by thine own invention, and are sufficiently wretched of condition without any art: thou aboundest in real and essential deformities, and needest not forge any by imagination. Dost thou find thyself to well at ease, unless the moiety of thine ease molest thee? Findest thou to have supplied or discharged all necessary offices, whereto nature engageth thee, and that she is idle in thee, if thou bind not thyself unto new offices? thou fearest not to offend her universal and undoubted laws, and art moved at thine own partial and fantastical ones. And by how much more particular, uncertain, and contradicted they are, the more endeavours thou bestowest that way. The positive orders of thy parish tie thee, those of the world do nothing concern thee. Run but a little over the examples of this consideration; thy life is full of them. The verses of these two Poets, handling lasciviousness so sparingly & so discreetly, as they do, in my conceit seem to discover, and display it nearer; ladies cover their bosom with network; priests many sacred things with a vail, and painters shadow their works, to give them the more lustre, and to add more grace unto them. And they say that the streaks of the Sun, and force of the wind, are much more violent by reflection, then by a direct line. The Egyptian answered him wisely, that asked him, what he had hidden under his cloak? it is (quoth he) hidden under my cloak, that thou mayst not know what it is. But there are certain other things which men conceal to show them. Here this fellow more open. Et nudam pressi corpus adusque meum. Quid. Am. l. 1. el. 5. 24. My body I applied, Even to her naked side, Me thinks he baffles me. Let martial at his pleasure tuck-up Venus he makes her not by much appear so wholly. He that speaks all he knows, doth cloy and distaste us. Who feareth to express himself, leadeth our conceit to imagine more them happily he conceiveth. There is treason in this kind of modesty: and chiefly as these do, in opening us so fair a path unto imagination: Both the action and description should taste of purloining, The love of the Spaniards, and of the Italians pleaseth me; by how much more respective and fearful it is the more nicely close and closely nice it is, I wot not who in ancient time wished his throat were as long as a Crane's neck, that so he might the longer and more leisurely taste what he swallowed. That wish were more to purpose then this sudden and violent pleasure: Namely in such natures as mine, who am faulty in suddenness. To stay her fleeting, and delay her with preambles, with them all serveth for favour, all is construed to be a recompense, a wink, a cast of the eye, a bowing, a word, or a figue, a beck is as good as a Dew guard. He that could dine with the smoke of roast-meat, might we not dine at a cheap rate? would he not soon be rich? It is a passion that commixeth with small store of solid essence, great quantity of doting vanity, and febricitant raving: it must therefore be required and served with the like. Let us teach Ladies, to know how to prevail; highly to esteem themselves; to ammuse, to circumvent and cozen us. We make our last charge the first: we show ourselves right French men: ever rash, ever headlong. Wire-drawing their favours, and installing them by retaileeach one, even unto miserable old age, finds some lists end, according to his worth and merit. He who hath no jovisance but in enjoying; who shoots not but to hit the mark; who loves not hunting but for the prey; it belongs not to him to intermeddle with our School. The more steps and degrees there are: the more delight and honour is there on the top. We should be pleased to be brought unto it, as unto stately Palaces, by diverse porches several passages, long and pleasant Galleries, and well contrived turnings. This dispensation would in the end, redound to our benefit; we should stay on it, and longer jove to lie at Rack and Manger; for these snatches and away, mar the grace of it. Take away hope and desire, we grow faint in our courses, we come but lagging after: Our mastery and absolute possession, is infinitely to be feared of them: After they have wholly yielded themselves to the mercy of our faith and constancy, they have hazarded something: They are rare and difficult virtues: so soon as they are ours, we are no longer theirs. — post quam cupidae mentis satiata libido est. Verba nihil metuere, nihil periuria curant. Catul. Arg. v. 147. The lust of greedy mind once satisfied, They sear no words, nor reek oaths falsified, And Thrasonides a young Grecian, was so religiously amorous of his love, that having after much suit gained his mistress hart and favour, he was refused to enjoy her, lest by that jovissance he might or quench, or satisfy, or languish that burning flame and restless heat wherewith he gloried, and so pleasingly fed himself. Things far fetched and dearly bought are good for Ladies. It is the dear price makes viands savour the better. See but how the form of salutations, which is peculiar unto our nation, doth by its facility bastardise the grace of kisses, which Socrates saith, to be of that consequence, weight and danger, to ravish and steal our hearts. It is an unpleasing and injurious custom unto Ladies, that they must afford their lips to any man that hath but three Lackeys following him, how unhandsome and loathsome soever he be: C●●●s livida naribus caninis, Dependet glacies, rigetque barba: Mart. l. 5. epig. 94 10. Centùm occurrere malo culilingis. From whose dog-nosthrils black-blew Ice depends, Whose beard frost-hardned stands on bristled ends, etc. Nor do we ourselves gain much by it: for as the world is divided into four parts, so for four fair ones, we must kiss fistie foul: and to a nice or tender stomach, as are those of mine age, one ill kiss doth surpay one good. In Italy they are passionate and languishing suitors to very common and mercenary women; and thus they defend and excuse themselves, saying; That even in enjoying there be certain degrees; and that by humble services, they will endeavour to obtain that, which is the most absolutely perfect. They sell but their bodies, their wills cannot be put to sale; that is too free, and too much it's own. So say these, that it is the will they attempt, and they have reason: It is the will one must serve and most solicit. I abhor to imagine mine, a body void of affection. And me seemeth, this frenzy hath some affinity with that boys fond humour, who for pure love would wantonize with that fair Image of Venus, which Praxiteles had made: or of that furious Egyptian, who lusted after a dead woman's corpses which he was enbaulming and stitching up: which was the occasion of the law that afterward was made in Egypt: that the bodies of fair, young and nobly borne women, should be kept three days, before they should be delivered into the hands of those who had the charge to provide for their funerals and burials. Periander did more miraculoussie: who extended his conjugal affection (more regular and lawful) unto the enjoying of Melissa his deceased wife. Seems it not to be a lunatic humour in the Moon, being otherwise unable to enjoy Endymion her favourite darling, to lull him in a sweet slumber for many months together; and feed herself with the jovislance of a boy, that stirred not but in a dream? I say likewise, that a man loveth a body without a soul, when he loveth a body without his consent and desire. All enjoy are not alike. There are some hectic, faint and languishing ones, A thousand causes, besides affection and good will, may obtain us this grant of women. It is no sufficient testimony of true affection: therein may lurk treason, as elsewhere: they sometime go but faintly to work, and as they say with one buttock; Tanquam thura merumque parent; Ibid. l. 11. epi 14. 5. 12. As though they did dispense, Pure Wine and Frankincense. Absentem mar more ámue putes. Ibid. epig. 61. 8. Of Marble you would think she were, Or that she were not present there. I know some, that would rather lend that, than their coach; and who emparte not themselves, but that way: you must also mark whether your company pleaseth them for some other respect, or for that end only, as of a lustie-strong groom of a Stable: as also in what rank, and at what rate you are there lodged or valued; — tibi si datur uni Catul. eleg. 4. 147: Quo lapide illa diem candidiore notet. If it afforded be to thee alone, Whereby she counts that day of all days one. What if she eat your bread, with the sauce of a more pleasing imagination? Te tenet, absentes alios suspirat amores. Thee she retains, yet sigheth she Tibul. l. 4. el. 5. 11. For other loves that absent be. What? have we not seen some in our days, to have made use of this action, for the execution of a most horrible revenge, by that means murdering and empoisoning (as one did) a very honest woman? such as know Italy will never wonder, if for this subject, I seek for no examples elsewhere. For the said nation may in that point be termed Regent of the world. They have commonly more fair women, and fewer foul than we; but in rate and excellent beauties I think we match them. The like I judge of their wi●●; of the vulgar sort they have evidently many more. Blockishness is without all comparison more rare amongst them: but for singular wits, and of the highest pitch, we are no whit behind them. Were I to extend this comparison, I might (me thinks) say, touching valour, that on the otherside, it is in regard of them popular and natural amongst us: but in their hands one may sometimes find it so complete and vigorous, that it exceedeth all the most forcible examples we have of it. The marriages of that country are in this somewhat defective. Their custom doth generally impose so severe observances, and slavish laws upon wives, that the remotest acquaintance with a stranger, is amongst them as capital as the nearest. Which law causeth, that all approaches prove necessarily substantial: and seeing all cometh to one reckoning with them, they have an easy choice: and have they broken down their hedges? Believe it, they will have fire: Luxuria ipsis vinculis, sicut fera bestia, irritata, deinde emissa: Luxury is like a wild beast, first made fiercer with tying, and then let loose. They must have the reins given them a little. Vidi ego nuper equum contra sua frenat enacem▪ Ore reluctanti fulminis ire modo. Quid. am l. 3. ●l. 4. 13. I saw, spite of his bit, a resty colt, Run headstrong headlong like a thunderbolt. They alloy the desire of company, by giving, it some liberty. It is a commendable custom with our nation, that our children are entertained in noble houses there, as in a school of nobility to be trained and brought up as Pages. And 'tis said to be a kind of discourtesy, to refuse it a gentleman. I have observed (for, so many houses so many sever all forms and orders) that such Ladies as have gone about to give their waiting women, the most austere rules, have not had the best success. There is required more than ordinary moderation: a great part of their government must be left to the conduct of their discretion: For, when all comes to all no discipline can bridle them in each point. True it is, that she who escapeth safe and unpolluted from out the school of freedom, giveth more confidence of herself, than she who cometh sound out of the school of severity and restraint. Our forefathers framed their daughter's countenances unto shamefastness and fear, (their inclinations and desires always alike) we unto assurance. We understand not the matter. That belongeth to the Sarmatian wenches, who by their laws may lie with no man, except with their own hands they have before killed another man in war. To me that have no right but by the ears, it sufficeth, if they retain me to be of their counsel, following the privilege of mine age: I then advise both them and us to embrace abstinence, but if this season be too much against it, at least modesty and discretion. For, as Aristippus (speaking to some young men who blushed to see him go into a bawdy house) said, the fault was not in entering, but in not coming out again, She that will not exempt her conscience, let her exempt her name: though the substance be not of worth, yet let the appearance hold still good. I love gradation and prolonging, in the distribution of their favours. Plato showeth, that in all kinds of love, facility and readiness is forbidden to defendants. 'tis a trick of greediness, which it behoveth them to cloak with their art, so rashly and fond-hardily to yield themselves in gross. In their distributions of favours, holding a regular and moderate course, they much better deceive our desires, and conceal theirs. Let them ever be flying before us: I mean even those that intent to be overtaken as the Scythians are wont, though they seem to run away, they beat us more, and sooner put us to rout. Verily according to the law which nature giveth them, it is not fit for them to will and desire: their part is to bear, to obey and to consent. Therefore hath nature bestowed a perpetual capacity; on us a seld and uncertain ability. They have always their hour, that they may ever be ready to let us enter. And whereas she hath willed our appetites should make apparent show and declaration, she caused theirs to be concealed and inward: and hath furnished them with parts unfit for ostentation; and only for defence. Such pranks as this, we must leave to the Amazonian liberty. Alexander the great marching through Hyrcania, Thalestris Queen of the Amazons came to meet him with three hundred lances of her sex, all well mounted and completely armed; having left the residue of a great army, that followed her, beyond the neighbouring mountains. And thus aloud, that all might hear she bespoke him; That the farre-resounding fame of his victories, and matchless valour, had brought her thither to see him, and to offer him her means and forces, for the advancing and furthering of his enterprises. And finding him so fair, so young and strong, she, who was perfectly accomplished in all his qualities, advised him to lie with her that so there might be borne of the most valiant woman in the world, and only valiat man then living, some great and rare creature for posterity. Alexander thanked her for the rest; but to take leisure for her last demands accomplishment, he staid thirteen days in that place, during which, he reveled with as much glee, and feasted with as great jollity as possibly could be devised, in honour and favour of so courageous a Princes. We are well-nigh-in all things partial and corrupted judges of their action, as no doubt they are of ours. I allow of truth as well when it hurts me, as when it helps me. It is a foul disorder, that so often urgeth them unto change, and hinders them from settling their affection on any one subject: as we see in this Goddess, to whom they impute so many changes and several friends. But withal it is against the nature of love, not to be violent, and against the condition of violence, to be constant. And those who wonder at it, exclaim against it, and in women search for the causes of this infirmity, as incredible and unnatural: why see they not how often, without any amazement and exclaiming, themselves are possessed and infected with it? I might happily seem more strange to find any constant stay in them. It is not a passion merely corporeal. If no end be found in covetousness, nor limit in ambition, assure yourself there is nor end nor limit in lechery, It yet continueth after satiety: nor can any man prescribe it or end or constant satisfaction: it ever goeth on beyond its possession, beyond its bounds. And if constancy be peradventure in some sort more pardonable in them then in us: They may readily allege against us, our ready inclination unto day lie variety and new ware: And secondly allege without us, that they buy a pig in a poke. jone Queen of Naples caused Andreosse her first husband to be strangled and hanged out of the bars of his window, with a cord of Silk and gold woven with her own hands; because in bed-businesse she found neither his members nor endeavours answerable the hope she had conceived of him, by viewing his stature, beauty, youth, and disposition, by which she had formerly been surprised and abused. That action hath in it more violence than passion: so that on their part at least necessity is ever provided for: on our behalf it may happen otherwise. Therefore Plato by his laws did very wisely establish, that before marriages the better to decide its opportunity, competent judges might be appointed to take view of young men which pretended the same, all naked: and of maidens but to the waste: in making trial of us, they happily find us not worthy their choice: Experta latus, madidoque simillima loro Inguina nec lassa stare coacta manu Marti l. 7. epig. 57 3. Deserit imbelles thalamos. It is not sufficient, that will kerpe a lively course: weakness and incapacity may lawfully break wedlock; Et quoerendum aliunde foret neruosius illud Quod posset Zonam solituere virgineam. Catul. eleg. 3. 27. Why not, and according to measure, an amorous intelligence, more licentious and more active? Si blando nequeat superesse labori. If it cannot out last, labour with pleasure past. But is it not great impudency, to bring our imperfections and weakness, in place where Virg. Geor l 3. 127. we desire to please, and leave a good report and commendation behind us? for the little I now stand in need of. — adunum Mollis opus. Unable to hold out, one only busy bout, I would not importune any one, whom I am to reverence. — fuge suspicari, Cuius undenum trepidavit at as Claudere lustrum. Her. card. 2. ●d. 4. 22. Him of suspicion clear, Whom age hath brought well near To five and fifty year, Nature should have been pleased to have made this age miserable, without making it also ridiculous. I hate to see one for an inch of wretched vigour, which inflames him but thrice a week, take-on and swagger as fiercely, as if he had some great and lawful dayes-worke in his belly: a right blast or puff of wind: And admire his itching, so quick and nimble, all in a moment to be lubberly squat and benumbed. This appetite should only belong to the blossom of a prime youth. Trust not unto it, though you see it second that indefatigable, full, constant and swelling heat, that is in you: for truly it will leave you at the best, and when you shall most stand in need of it. Send it rather to some tender, irresolute and ignorant girl, which yet trembleth for fear of the rod, and that will blush at it, Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro, Virg' Ae●●. 12. 67. Si quis ebur, vel mista rubent ubi lilia, multa Albarosa. As if the Indian Ivory one should taint, With bloody Scarlet-graine, or Lilies paint, White intermixed with red with Roses enter-spred. Who can stay until the next morrow, and not die for shame, the disdain of those love sparkling eyes, privy to his faintness, dastardise and impertinency; Et taciti fecere tamen convitia vultus. ●uid. A●●. 1. el. 7. 21. The face though silent, yet silent upbraydes-it. he never felt the sweet contentment, and the sence-mooving earnestness, to have beaten and tarnished them by the vigorous exercise of an officious and active night. When I have perceived any of them weary of me, I have not presently accused her lightness: but made question whether I had not more reason to quarrel with nature, for handling me so unlawfully and uncivilly, Si non longa satis, si non benè mentula crassa: Lus. P●iap. penu●. 1. ●●. 8. 4. Nimirum sapiunt vident que paruam Matronae quo que mentulam illibenter. and to my exceeding hurt. Each of my pieces are equally mine, one as another: and no other doth more properly make me a man then this. My whole portraiture I universally owe unto the world. The wisdom and reach of my lesson, is all in truth, in liberty, in essence: Disdaining in the catalogue of my true duties, these easy, saint, ordinary and provincial rules. All natural, constant and generally; whereof civility and ceremony, are daughters, but bastards. We shall easily have the vices of appearance, when we shall have had those of essence. When we have done with these, we run upon others, if we find need of running. For there is danger, that we devise new offices, to excuse our negligence toward natural offices, and to confound them. That it is so, we see that in places where faults are bewitchings, bewitchings are but faults. That among nation, where laws of seemliness are more rare and slack, the primitive laws of common reason are better observed: The innumerable multitude of so manifold duties stifling, languishing and dispersing our care. The applying of ourselves unto slight matters, withdraweth us from such as be just. Oh how easy and plausible a course do these superficial men undertake, in respect of ours. These are but shadows under which we shrowded, and wherewith we pay one another. But we pay not, but rather heap debt on debt, unto that great and dreadful judge, who tucks up our clouts and rags from about our privy parts, and is not squeamish to view all over, even to our most inward and secret deformities: a beneficial decency of our maidenly bashfulness, could it debar him of this tainted discovery. To conclude, he that could recover or vn-be●o● man, from so scrupulous and verbal a superstition, should not much prejudice the world. Our life consisteth partly in folly, and partly in wisdom. He that writes of it but reverently and regularly, omits the better moiety of it. I excuse me not unto myself, and if I did, I would rather excuse my excuses, than any fault else of mine: I excuse myself of certain humours, which in number I hold stronger, than those which are on my side: In consideration of which I will say thus much more (for I desire to please all men; though it be a hard matter, Esse unum hominem accommodatum ad tantam morum, ac sermonum & voiuntatum varietatem, That one man should be appliable to so great variety of manners, speeches and dispositions) that they are not to blame me, for what I cause authorities received and approved of many ages, to utter: and that it is not reason, they should for want of rhyme deny me the dispensation, which ever some of our churchmen usurp and enjoy in this season; whereof behold here two, and of the most pert and cocker amongst them: Rimula dispeream, ni monogramma tua est. un vit o' amy lafoy content et bien traitte. How many others more? I love modesty; nor is it from judgement that I have made choice of this kind of scandalous speech; 'tis nature hath chosen the same for me: I commend it no more, than all forms contrary unto received custom: only I excuse it; and by circumstances aswell general, as particular, would qualify the imputation. Well, let us proceed. Whence cometh also the usurpation of sovereign authority, which you assume unto yourselves, over those that favour you to their cost and prejudice, Si furtiva dedit nigra munuscula nocte, Catul. el. 4. 145. If she have given by night, The stolen gift of delight. that you should immediately invest withal the interest, the coldness, and a wedlock authority? It is a free bargain, why do you not undertake it on those terms you would have them to keep? There is no prescription upon voluntary things. It is against form, yet it is true, that I have in my time managed this match (so far as the nature of it would allow) with as much conscience as any other whatsoever, and not without some colour of justice: and have given them no further testimony of mine affection, than I sincerely felt: and have lively displayed unto them the declination, vigour and birth of the same; with the fits and deferring of it: A man cannot always keep an even pace, nor ever go to it alike. I have been so sparing to promise, that (as I think) I have paid more than either I promised or was due. They have found me faithful, even to the service of their inconstancy: I say an inconstancy avowed, and sometimes multiplied. I never broke with them, as long as I had any hold, were it but by a threads end: and whatsoever occasion they have given me by their fickleness, I never fell-of unto contempt and hatred: for such familiarities, though I attain them on most shameful conditions, yet do they bind me unto some constant good will. I have sometime given them a taste of choler and indiscreet impatience, upon occasions of their wiles, sleights, close-conuayances, controversies and contestations between us; for, by complexion, I am subject to hasty and rash motions, which often impeach my traffic, and mar my bargains, though but mean and of small worth. Have they desired to essay the liberty of my judgement, I never dissembled to give them fatherly council and and biting advise, and showed myself ready to scratch them where they itched. If I have given them cause to complain of me, it hath been most for finding a love in me, in respect of our modern fashion, foolishly conscientious. I have religiously kept my word in things: that I might easily have been dispensed with. They then yielded sometimes with reputation, and under conditions, which they would easily suffer to be infringed by the conqueror. I have more than once, made pleasure In her greatest efforts strike sail unto the interest of their honour: and where reason urged me, armed them against me, so that they guided themselves more safely and severely by my prescriptions, if they once freely yielded unto them, than they could have done by their own. I have as much as I could endeavoured to take on myself the charge and hazard of our appointments, thereby to discharge them from all imputation; and ever contrived our meetings in most hard, strange and unsuspected manner, to be the less mistrusted, and (in my seeming) the more accessible. They are opened, especially in those parts, where they suppose themselves most concealed. Things lest feared are lest defended and observed. You may more securely dare, what no man thinks you would dare, which by difficulty becometh easy. Never had man his approaches more impertinently, genitale. This way to love, is more according to discipline. But how ridiculous unto our people, and of how small effect, who better knows than I? yet will I not repent me of it; I have no more to lose by the matter, — me tabulasacer H●r. car. l ●. od. 5 13. V●tiua paries, indicat vuida, Suspendisse potenti Vestimenta maris Deo. By tables of the vows which I did owe Fastened thereto the sacred wall doth show; I have hung-up my garments water-wet, Unto that God whose power on seas is great. It is now high time to speak plainly of it. But even as to another, I would perhaps say; My friend thou dotest, the love of thy times hath small affinity with faith and honesty; — haec si tu postule● Y●●. ●●●●●. ●ct. 1. sc. 1 Ratione certa facere, nihilo plus agas, quam si des operam, ut cum ratione insanias. If this you would by reason certain make, You do no more, then if the pains you take, To be stark mad, and yet to think it reason fit, And yet if I were to begin anew, it should be by the very same path and progress, how fruitless soever it might prove unto me. Insufficiency and sottishness are commendable in a discommendable action. As much as I separate myself from their humour in that, so much I approach unto mine own. Moreover, I did never suffer myself to be wholly given over to that sport; I therewith pleased, but forgot not myself. I ever kept that little understanding and discretion, which nature hath bestowed on me, for their service and mine; some motion towards it, but no dotage. My conscience also was engaged therein, even unto incontinency and excess, but never unto ingratitude, treason, malice or cruelty. I bought not the pleasure of this vice at all rates; and was content with it's own and simple cost. Nullum intrase vi●ium est, There is no vice contained in itself. I hate almost alike a crouching and dull laziness, and a toilsome and thorny working. The one pincheth, the other dulleth me. I love wounds as S●●. epi 95. much as bruises, and blood wipes as well as dry-blowes. I had in the practice of this solace, when I was fitter for it, an even moderation between these two extremities. Love is a vigila●●, lively and blithe agitation: I was neither troubled nor tormented with it, but heated and distempered by it: There we must make a stay; It is only hurtful unto fools. A young man demanded of the Philosopher Panetius, whether it would be seem a wise man to be in love; Let wisemen alone (quoth he) but for thee and me that are not so, it were best not to engage ourselves into so stirring and violent a humour, which makes us slaves to others and contemptible unto ourselves. He said true, for we ought not entrust a matter so dangerous, unto a mind that hath not wherewith to sustain the approaches of it, nor effectually to quail the speech of Agesilaus; That wisdom and love cannot live together: It is a vain occupation ('tis true) unseemly, shameful and lawless: But using it in this manner, I esteem it wholesome and fit to rouse a dull spi●●● and a heavy body: and as a physician experienced, I would prescribe the same unto a man of my complexion and form, as soon as any other receipt, to keep him awake and in strength, when he is well in years; and delay him from the gripings of old age. As long as we are but in the suburbs of it, and that our pulse yet beateth. Dum nova canitieses, dum prima & recta senectus, ●●●●●. Sat 3. 26. Dum superest Lachefi quod torqueat, & pedibus me Port● meis, nullo dex●ram subeunte bacillo. While hoary hairs are new, and ould-age fresh and strait, While Lachesis hath yet to spin, while I my weight Bear on my feeetes, and stand, without staff in my hand. We had need to be solicited and tickled, by some biting agitation, as this is. See but what youth, vigour and jollity it restored unto wise Anacreon. And Socrates, when he was elder than I am, speaking of an amorous object: leaning (says he) shoulder to shoulder, and approaching my head unto his, as we were both together looking upon a book, I felt, in truth, a sudden tingling or prickling in my shoulder, like the biting of some beast, which more than five days after tickled me, whereby a continual itching glided into my heart. But a casual touch, and that but in a shoulder, to inflame, to distemper and to distract a mind, enfeebled, tamed and cooled through age; and of all human minds the most reformed. And why not I pray you? Socrates was but a man, and would neither be nor seem to be other. Philosophy contends not against natural delights, so that due measure be joined therewith; and alloweth the moderation, not the shunning of them. The efforts of her resistance are employed against strange and bastard or lawless ones. She saith, that the bodies appetites ought not to be increased by the mind. And wittily adviseth us, that we should not excite our hunger by satiety; not to stuff, instead of filling our bellies: to avoid all jovissance that may bring us to want: and shun all meat and drink, which may make us hungry or thirsty. As in the service of love, she appoints us to take an object, that only may satisfy the bodies need, without once moving the mind: which is not there to have any doing, but only to follow and simply to assist the body. But have I not reason to think, that these precepts, which (in mine opinion are elsewhere somewhat rigorous) have reference unto a body which doth his office; and that a dejected one, as a weakened stomach may be excused if he cherish and sustain the same by art, and by the entercouse of fantazie, to restore it the desires, the delights and blitheness, which of itself it hath lost? May we not say, that there is nothing in us, during this earthly prison, simply corporal, or purely spiritual? and that injuriously we dismember a living man? that there is reason we should carry ourselves in the use of pleasure, at least as favourably as we do in the pangs of grief? For example, it was vehement, even unto perfection, in the souls of Saints, by repentance. The body had naturally a part therein, by the right of their combination, and yet might have but little share in the cause: and were not contented that it should simply follow and assist the afflicted soul: they have tormented the body itself with convenient and sharp punishments; to the end that one with the other, the body and the soul might a vie plunge man into sorrow; so much the more saving, by how much the more smarting. In like case, in corporal pleasures, is it not injustice to quail and cool the mind and, say, it must thereunto be entrained, as unto a forced bond, or servile necessity? She should rather hatch and cherish them, and offer and invite itself unto them; the charge of swaying rightly belonging to her. Even as in my conceit, it is her part, in her proper delights, to inspire and infuse into the body all sense or feeling which his condition may bear, and endeavour that they may be both sweet and healthy for him. For, as they say, 'tis good reason; that the body follow not his appetites to the minds prejudice or damage. But why is it not likewise reason, that the mind should not follow hers to the body's danger and hurt? I have no other passion that keeps me in breath. What avarice, ambition, quarrels, suits in law, or other contention's work and effect in others, who as myself have no assigned vacation, or certain leisure, love would perform more commodiously: It would restore me the vigilancy, sobriety, grace and care of my person; and assure my countenance against the wrinkled frowns of age (those deformed and wretched frowns) which else would blemish and deface the same; It would reduce me to serious, to sound and wise studies, whereby I might procure more love, and purchase more estimation: It would purge my mind from despair of itself, and of its use, acquainting the same again with itself: It would divert me from thousands of irksome tedious thoughts, and melancholy carking cares, wherewith the doting idleness and crazed condition of our age doth charge and cumber us: It would restore and heat, though but in a dream, the blood which nature forsaketh: It would uphold the drooping chin, and somewhat strengthen or lengthen the shrunken finewes, decayed vigour, and dulled lives-blithenesse of silly wretched man, who gallops apace to his ruin. But I am not ignorant how hard a matter it is to attain to such a commodity: Through weakness and long experience, our taste is grown more tender, more choice and more exquisite. We challenge most, when we bring least; we are most desirous to choose, when we least deserve to be accepted: And knowing ourselves to be such, we are less hardy and more distrustful: Nothing can assure us to be beloved, seeing our condition and their quality. I am ashamed to be in the company of this green, blooming and boiling youth; Cuius in indomito constantior inguine neruus, quam nova collibus arbor inhaeret: Hor. Epod. 12. 19 Why should we present our wretchedness admid this their jollity? Possint ut iwenes visere feruidi Hor. car. l. 4. ●d. 13. 26. Multo non fine risu, Dilapsam in cineres facem, That hot young men may go and see, Not without sport and merry glee, Their firebrands turned to ashes be. They have both strength and reason on their side: let us give them place: we have no longer hold fast. This bloom of budding beauty, loves not to be handled by such numbed, and so clomsie hands, nor would it be dealt-with by means purely material or ordinary stuff, For, as that ancient Philosopher answered one that mocked him, because he could not obtain the favour of a youngling, whom he suingly pursued: My friend (quoth he) the hook bites not at such fresh cheese. It is a commerce needing relation and mutual correspondency: other pleasures that we receive, may be requitted by recompenses of different nature: but this cannot be repaid but with the very same kind of coin. Verily, the pleasure I do others in this sport, doth more sweetly tickle my imagination, then that is done unto me. Now if no generous mind, can receive pleasure where he returneth none; it is a base mind that would have all duty and delights to feed with conference, those under whose charge he remaineth. There is no beauty, nor favour, nor familiarity so exquisite, which a gallant mind should desire at this rate. Now if women can do us no good but in pity, I had much rather not to live at all, then to live by alms. I would I had the privilege to demand of them, in the same style I have heard some begin Italy: Fate bene per voi, Do some good for yourself: or after the manner that Cyrus exhorted his soldiers; Whosoever loveth me, let him follow me. Consort yourself, will some say to me, with those of your own condition, whom the company of like fortune will yield of more easy access. Oh sottish and wallowish composition; — nolo Barbam vellere mortuo leoni. Mar. l. 10. epig. 90. 9 I will not pull (though not a feared) When he is dead a Lion's beard. Xenophon useth for an objection and accusation against Menon, that in his love he dealt with fading objects. I take more sensual pleasure by only viewing the mutual, even proportioned and delicate commixture of two young beauties; or only to consider the same in mine imagination, then if myself should be second in a lumpish, sad and disproporcioned conjunction. I refigne such distasted and fantastical appetites unto the Emperor Galba, who meddled with none but cast, worn, hard-old flesh, And to that poor slave, O ego dij faciant talem te cernere possim, Char áque mutatis osculaferre comis. Amplectique meis corpus non pingue lacertis. Quid. P●nt. l▪ 1. el. 5. 49. Gods grant I may behold thee in such case, And kiss thy changed locks with my dearest grace, And with mine arms thy limbs not fat embrace. And amongst blemishing-deformities, I deem artificial and forced beauty to be of the chiefest. Emonez a young lad of Chios, supposing by gorgeous attires to purchase the beauty, which nature denied him, came to the Philosopher Ar●silaus, and asked of him, whether a wise man could be in l●ue, or no? Yes marry (quoth he) so it were not with a painted and sophisticate beauty, as thine is. The foulness of an old known woman is in my seeming, not so aged nor so ill-favoured, as one that's painted and sleeked. Shall I boldly speak it, and not have my throat cut for my labour? Love is not properly nor naturally in season, but in the age next unto infancy: Quam si puellarum insereres choro, mill sagaces falleret hospites, Discrimen obscurum, solutis Hor. car. l. 2. ●d. 5. 12. Crinibus, ambiguoque vultu. Whom if you should in crew of wench's place, With hair loose-hanging, and ambiguous face, Strangely the undiscerned distinction might Deceive a thousand strangers of sharp sight. No more is perfect beauty. For, whereas Homer extends it until such time as the chin begins to bud. Plato himself hath noted the same for very rare, And the cause for which the Sophister Dion termed youths budding hairs; Aristogitons and Harmodij, is notoriously known. In manhood I find it already to be somewhat out of date, much more in old age. Importunus enim transuolat aridas Quercus. Ibid. l. 4. od. 13. 9 Importune love doth over-flie. The Oaks with withered old-age dry. And Margaret Queen of Navarre, lengthens much (like a woman) the privilege of women: Ordaining thirty fears to be the season, for them to change the title of fair into good. The shorter possession we allow it over our lives, the better for us. Behold its behaviour, It is a princock boy, who in his school, knows not, how far one proceeds against all order: study, exercise, custom and practice, are paths to insufficiency: the novices bear all the sway; Amor ordinem nescit, Love knows or keeps no order. Surely it's course hath more garb, when it is commixed with unadvisedness and trouble: faults and contrary successes, give it edge and grace: so it be eager and hungry, it little importeth whither it be prudent. Observe but how he staggers, stumbleth and fooleth; you fetter and shackle him, when you guide him by art and discretion: and you force his sacred liberty, when you submit him to those bearded, grim and tough-hard hands. Moreover I often hear them display this intelligence as absolutely spiritual disdaining to draw into consideration the interest which all the senses have in the same. All serveth to the purpose: But I may say, that I have often seen some of us excuse the weakness of their minds, in favour of their corporal beauties; but I never saw them yet, that in behalf of the mindes-beauties, how sound and ripe soever they were, would afford an helping hand unto abedy, that never so little falleth into declination. Why doth not some one of them long to produce that noble Socratical brood; or breed that precious gem, between the body and the mind, purchasing with the price of her thighs a Philosophical and spiritual breed and intelligence? which is the highest rate she can possibly value them at. Plato appointeth in his laws, that he who performeth a notable and worthy exploit in war, during the time of that expedition, should not be denied a kiss or refused any other amorous favour, of whomsoever he shall please to desire it, without respect either of his ill-favourdnes, deformity, or age. What he deemeth so just and allowable in commendation of Military valour, may not the same be thought as lawful in commendation of some other worth? and why is not some one of them possessed with the humour to preocupate on her companions the glory of this chaste love? chaste I may well say; — nam si quando ad praelia ventum est, Vt quondam stipulis magnus sine viribus ignis Virg. Geor l. 3. 98. ● In cassum furit. If once it come to handy-gripes; as great, But forceless fire in stubble; so his heat Rageth amain, but all in vain. Vices smothered in one's thought, are not the worst. To conclude this notable commentary, escaped from me by a flux of babbling: a flux sometimes as violent as hurtful, Vt missum sponsi furtivo munere malum, Procurrit casto virginis è gremio: Catul. eleg 1▪ 19 Quod miserae oblitae molli sub vest locatum, Dum adventu matris prosilit, excutitur, Atque illud prono praeceps agitur decursu, Huic manat tristi conscius ore rubor. As when some fruit by stealth sent from her friend, From chaste lap of a virgin doth descend, Which by her, under her soft apron placed, Starting at mothers coming thence is cast: And trilling down in haste doth headlong go, A guilty blush in her sad face doth flow. I say, that both male and female, are cast in one same mould; instruction and custom excepted, there is no great difference between them: Plato calleth them both indifferently to the society of all studies, exercises, charges and functions of war and peace, in his Commonwealth. And the Philosopher Antisthenes took away all distinction between their virtue and ours. It is much more easy to accuse the one sex, then to excuse the other. It is that which some say proverbialie. Ill may the Kill call the Oven burned tail. The sixth Chapter. Of Coaches. IT is easy to verify, that excellent authors, writing of causes do not only make use of those which they imagine true, but eftsoons of such as themselves believe not: always provided they have some invention and beauty. They speak sufficiently, truly and profitably, if they speak ingeniously. We cannot assure▪ ourselves of the chief cause: we hudle up a many together, to see whether by chance it shall be found in that number, Namque unam dicere causam. Lucret. l. 6. 700. Non satis est, verum plures unde una tamensit. Enough it is not one cause to devise, But more, whereof that one may yet arise, Will you demand of me, whence this custom ariseth, to bless and say God help to those that sneeses? We produce three sorts of wind; that issuing from below is too undecent; that from the mouth, implieth some reproach of gourmandise; the third is sneezing: and because it cometh from the head, and is without imputation, we thus kindly entertain it: Smile not at this subtlety, it is (as some say) Aristotle's. Me seemeth to have read in Plutarch (who of all the authors I know, hath best commixed art with nature, and coupled judgement with learning) where he yieldeth a reason, why those which travel by sea, do sometimes feel such qualms and risings of the stomach, saying, that it proceedeth of a kind of fear: having found-out some reason, by which he proveth, that fear may cause such an effect. Myself who am much subject unto it, know well, that this cause doth nothing concern me. And I know it, not by argument, but by necessary experience, without alleging what some have told me, that the like doth often happen unto beasts, namely unto swine, when they are farthest from apprehending any danger: and what an acquaintance of mine hath assured me of himself, and who is greatly subject unto it, that twice or thrice in a tempestuous storm, being surprised with execeeding fear, all manner of desire or inclination to vomit had left him. As to that ancient good fellow; Peius vexabar quam ut periculum mihi succurreret. I was worse vexed than that danger could help me. I never apprehended fear upon the water; nor any where else (yet have I often had ●●st cause offered me, if death itself may give it) which either might trouble or astonie me. It proceedeth sometimes as well from want of judgement, as from lack of courage. All the dangers I have had, have been when mine, eyes were wide-open and my sight clear, sound and perfect: For, even to fear, courage is required. It hath sometimes steaded me, in respect of others, to direct and keep my flight in order, that so it might be, if not without fear, at least without dismay and astonishment. Indeed it was moved, but not amazed nor distracted. Undaunted minds march further, and represent flight, not only temperate, settled and sound, but also fierce and bold▪ Report we that which Alcibiades relateth of Socrates his companion in arms. I found (saith he) after the rout and discomfiture of our army, both him and Lachez in the last rank of those that ran away, and with all safety and leisure considered him, for I was mounted upon an excellent good horse, and he on foot, and so had we combated all day. I noted first, how in respect of Lachez, he showed both discreate judgement and ●ndanted resolution: then I observed the undismaide bravery of his march, nothing different from his ordinary pace: his look orderly and constant, duly observing and ●eedily judging what ever passed round about him: sometimes viewing the one, and sometimes looking on the other both friends and enemies, with so composed a manner, that he seemed to encourage the one and menace the other, signifying, that whosoever should attempt his life, must purchase the same, or his blood at a high-valued rate; and thus they both saved themselves; for, men do not willingly grapple with these; but follow such as show or fear or dismay. Lo hear the testimony of that renow●ed Captain, who teacheth us what we daily find by experience, that there is nothing doth sooner cast us into dangers, than an inconsiderate greediness to a●●●de them. Quo timoris minus est, eo minus fermè periculi est. The less fear there is most commonly, the less danger there is. Our people is to blame, to say, such a one feareth death, when it would signify, that he thinks on it, and doth foresee the same. Foresight doth equally belong as well to that which concerneth us in good, as touch us in evil. To consider and judge danger, is in some sort, not to be daunted at it. I do not find myself sufficiently strong to withstand the blow and violence of this passion of fear, or of any other impetuosity, were I once therewith vanquished and deterred, I could never safely recover myself. He that should make my mind forego her footing, could never bring her unto her place again. She doth over lively sound, and over deeply search into herself: And therefore never suffers the wound which pierced the same, to be thoroughly cured and consolidated. It hath been happy for me: that no infirmity could ever yet displace her. I oppose and present myself in the best ward I have, against all charges and assaults that beset me. Thus the first that should bear me away, would make me unrecoverable. I encounter not two: which way soever spoil should enter my hold, there am I open, and remedilessly drowned. Epicurus saith, that a wise man can never pass from one state to its contrary. I have some opinion answering his sentence, that he who hath once been a very fool, shall at no time prove very wise. God sends my cold answerable to my clothes, and passions answering the means I have to endure them. Nature having discovered me on one side, hath covered me one the other. Having disarmed me of strength, she hath armed me with insensibility, and a regular or soft apprehension. I cannot long endure (and less could in my youth) to ride either in coach or litter, or to go in a boat; and both in the City and country I hate all manner of riding, but a horseback: And can less endure a litter, than a coach, and by the same reason, more easily a rough agitation upon the water, whence commonly proceedeth fear, than the soft stirring a man shall feel in calm weather. By the same easy gentle motion, which the oars give, conveying the boat under us, I wot not how, I feel both my head intoxicated and my stomach distempered: as I cannot likewise abide a shaking stool under me. When as either the sail, or the gliding course of the water doth equally carry us away, or that we are but towed, that gently, gliding and even agitation, doth no whit distemper or hurt me. It is an interrupted and broken motion, that offends me; and more when it is languishing. I am not able to display its form. Physicians have taught me to bind and gird myself with a napkin or swath round about the lower part of my belly, as a remedy for this accident; which as yet I have not tried, being accustomed to wrestle and with stand such defects as are in me; and tame them by myself. Were my memory sufficiently informed of them, I would not think my time lost, here to set down the infinite variety, which histories present unto us, of the use of coaches in the service of war: divers according to the nations, and different according to the ages: to my seeming of great effect and necessity. So that it is wondrously strange, how we have lost all true knowledge of them; I will only allege this, that even lately in our father's time, the Hungarians did very availefully bring them into fashion, and profitably set them a work against the Turks; every one of them containing a Targattier and a Muskettier, with a certain number of harquebuses or calivers, ready charged; and so ranged, that they might make good use of them: and all over covered with a pavesado, after the manner of a Galliotte. They made the front of their battle with three thousand such coaches: and after the Cannon had played, caused them to discharge and shoot off volie of small shot upon their enemies, before they should know or feel, what the rest of their forces could do: which was no small advancement; or if not this, they mainly drove those coaches amid the thickest of their enemy's squadrons, with purpose to break, disroute and make way through them. Besides the benefit and help they might make of them, in any suspicious or dangerous place, to flank their troops marching from place to place: or in haste to encompass, to embarricado, to cover or fortify any lodgement or quarter. In my time, a gentleman of quality, in one of our frontieres', unwealdy and so burly of body, that he could find no horse able to bear his weight, and having a quarrel or deadly fude in hand, was wont to travail up and down in a coach made after this fashion, and found much ease and good in it. But leave we these warlike coaches, as if their nullity were not sufficiently known by better tokens; The lastkings of our first race were wont to travel in chariors drawn by four oxen. Mark Antony was the first, that caused himself, accompanied with a minsterell harlot to be drawn by Lions fitted to a coach. So did Heliogabalus after him, naming himself Cibele the mother of the Gods; and also by Tigers, counterfeiting God Bacchus: who sometimes would also be drawn in a coach by two Stags: and another time by four mastiff Dogs: and by four naked wenches, causing himself to be drawn by them in pomp and state, he being all naked. The emperor Firmus, made his coach to be drawn by Estriges of exceeding greatness, so that he rather seemed to fly, then to roll on wheels. The strangeness of these inventions, doth bring this other thing unto my fantasy. That it is a kind of pusilanimity in monarch, and a testimony that they do not sufficiently know what they are, when they labour to show their worth, and endeavour to appear unto the world, by excessive and intolerable expenses. A thing, which in a strange country might somewhat be excused; but amongst his native subjects, where he swayeth all in all, he draweth from his dignity the extremest degree of honour, that he may possible attain unto. As for a gentleman, in his own private house to apparel himself richly and curiously, I deem it a matter vain and superfluous; his house, his household, his train and his kitchen do sufficiently answer for him. The counsel which Isocrates giveth to his King (in my conceit) seemeth to carry some reason: when he willeth him to be richly-stored and stately adorned with movables and housholde-stuffe, forsomuch as it is an expense of continuance, and which descendeth even to his posterity or heirs: And to avoid all magnificences, which presently vanish both from custom and memory. I loved when I was a younger brother to set myself forth and be gay in clothes, though I wanted other necessaries; and it became me well: There are some on whose backs their rich Robes weep, or as we say their rich clothes are lined with heavy debts. We have divers strange tales of our ancient King's frugality about their own persons, and in their gifts: great and far renowned Kings both in credit, in valour and in fortune. Demosthenes mainly combats the law of his City, who assigned their public money to be employed about the stately setting forth of their plays and feasts: He willeth that their magnificence should be seen in the quantity of tall ships well manned and appointed, and armies well furnished. And they have reason to accuse Theophrastus, who in his book of riches established a contrary opinion, and upholdeth such a quality of expenses, to be the true friute of wealth and plenty. They are pleasures (saith Aristotle) that only touch the vulgar and basest communality, which as soon as a man is satisfied with them, vanish out of mind; and whereof no man of sound judgement of gravity can make any esteem. The employment of it, as more profitable, just and durable would seem more royal, worthy and commendable, about ports, heavens, fortifications and walls; in sumptuous buildings, in churches, hospitales, colleges, mending of heighwayes and streets, and such like monuments: in which things Pope Gregory the thirteenth shall leave aye-lasting and commendable memory unto his name: and wherein our Queen Catherine should witness unto succeeding ages her natural liberality and exceeding bounty, if her means were answarable to her affection. Fortune hath much spighted me to hinder the structure and brake-off the finishing of our new-bridge in our great City; and before my death to deprive me of all hope to see the great necessity of it set forward again. Moreover, it appeareth unto subjects, spectators of these triumphs, that they have a show made them of their own riches, and that they are feasted at their proper charges: For, the people do easily presume of their kings, as we do of our servants; that they should take care plenteously to provide us of whatsoever we stand in need of, but that on their behalf they should no way lay hands on it. And therefore the Emperor Galba, sitting at supper, having taken pleasure to hear a musician play and sing before him, sent for his casket, out of which he took a handful of Crowns and put them into his hand, with these words; Take this, not as a gift of the public money, but of mine own private store. So is it, that it often cometh to pass, that the common people have reason to grudge, and that their eyes are fed, with that which he should feed their belly. Liberality itself, in a sovereign hand is not in her own lustre: private men have more right, and may challenge more interest in her. For, taking the matter exactly as it is, a King hath nothing that is properly his own; he oweth even himself to others. Authority is not given in favour of the authorising, but rather in favour of the authorised. A superior is never created for his own profit, but rather for the benefit of the inferior: And a Physician is instituted for the sick, not for himself. All Magistracy, even as each art, rejecteth her end out of herself. Nulla ars in se versatur. No art is all in itself. Wherefore the governors and overseers of Prince's childhood or minority, who so earnestly endeavour to imprint this virtue of bounty and liberality in them; and teach them not to refuse any thing, and esteem nothing so well employed, as what they shall give (an instruction which in my days I have seen in great credit) either they prefer and respect more their own profit then their masters; or else they understand not aright to whom they speak. It is too easy a matter to imprint liberality in him, that hath wherewith plenteously to satisfy what he desireth at other men's charges. And his estimation being directed not according to the measure of the present, but according to the quality of his means, that exerciseth the same, it cometh to prove vain in so puissant hands. They are found to be prodigal, before they be liberal. Therefore is it but of small commendation, in respect of other royal virtues. And the only (as said the tyrant Dionyfius) that agreed and squared well with tyranny itself. I would rather teach him the verse of the ancient labourer, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Plate de Athen. Eras. chil. 3. cent. 1. ad. 32. Not whole sacks, but by the hand A man should sow his seed i'the land. That whosoever will reap any commodity by it, must sow with his hand, and not power out of the sack: that corn must be discreetly scattered, and not lavishly dispersed: And that being to give, or to say better, to pay and restore to such a multitude of people, according as they have deserved, he ought to be a loyal, faithful, and advised distributer thereof. If the liberality of a Prince be without heedy discretion and measure, I would rather have him covetous and sparing. Princely virtue seemeth to consist most in justice. And of all parts of justice, that doth best and most belong to Kings, which accompanieth liberality. For, they have it particularly reserved to their charge; whereas all other justice, they happily exercise the same by the intermission of others. Immoderate bounty, is a weak mean to acquire them good will: for, it rejecteth more people, than it obtaineth: Quo in plures usus sis, minus in multos Cic. off. l. ●. uti possis. Quid autem est stultius, quam, quod libenter facias, curare ut id diutius facere non possis? The more you have used it to many, the less may you use it to many more: And what is more fond, than what you willingly would do, to provide you can no longer do it? And if it be employed without respect of merit, it shameth him that receiveth the same, and is received without grace. Some Tyrants have been sacrificed to the people's hatred, by the very hands of those, whom they had rashly preferred and wrongfully advanced: such kind of men, meaning to assure the possession of goods unlawfully and indirectly gotten, if they show to hold in contempt and hatred, him from whom they held them, and in that combine themselves unto the vulgar judgement and common opinion. The subjects of a Prince, rashly excessive in his gifts, become impudently excessive in begging: they adhere, not unto reason, but unto example. Verily we have often just cause to blush, for our impudency. We are over-paid according to justice, when the recompense equalleth our service: for, do we not owe a kind of natural duty to our Princes? If he bear our charge, he doth overmuch; it sufficeth if he assist it: the overplus is called a benefit, which cannot be exacted; for the very name of liberality implieth liberty. After our fashion, we have never done; what is received is no more reckoned of: only future liberality is loved: Wherefore the more a Prince doth exhausted himself in giving, the more friends he impoverisheth. How should he satisfy intemperate desires, which increase according as they are replenished? Who so hath his mind on taking, hath it no more on what he hath taken. Covetousness hath nothing so proper, as to be ungrateful. The example of Cyrus shall not ill fit this place, for the behoof of our kings of these days, as a touchstone, to know whether their gifts be well or ill employed; and make them perceive, how much more happily that Emperor did wound and oppress them, than they do. Whereby they are afterward forced to exact and borrow of their unknown subjects, and rather of such as they have wronged and aggrieved, then of those they have enriched and done good unto: and receive no aids, where any thing is gratitude, except the name. Croesus' vpbra●ded him with his lavish bounty, and calculated what his treasure would amount unto, if he were more sparing and close-handed. A desire surprised him to justify his liberality, and dispatching letters over all parts of his dominions, to such great men of his estate, whom he had particularly advanced, entreated every one to assist him with as much money as they could, for an urgent necessity of his; and presently to send it him by declaration: when all these count-bookes or notes were brought him, each of his friends supposing that it sufficed not, to offer him no more than they had received of his bounteous liberality, but adding much of their own unto it, it was found, that the said sum amounted unto much more, than the niggardly sparing of Croesus. Whereupon Cyrus said, I am no less greedy of riches, than other Princes, but am rather a better husband of them. You see with what small venture I have purchased the unvaluable treasure of so many friends, and how much more faithful treasurers they are to me, then mercenary men would be, without obligation and without affection: and my exchequer or treasury better placed then in paltry coffers; by which I draw upon me the hate, the envy and the contempt of other Princes. The ancient Emperors were wont to draw some excuse, for the superfluity of their sports and public shows, for so much as their authority did in some sort depend (at least in appearance) from the will of the Roman people; which from all ages was accustomed to be flattered by such kinds of spectables and excess. But they were particular-ones who had bred this custom, to gratify their con-citizens and fellows: especially with their purse, by such profusion and magnificence. It was clean altered, when the masters and chief rulers came once to imitate the same. Pecuniarum translatio Cic. Off. l. 1. à justis dominis ad alienos non debet liberalis videri. The passing of money from right owners to strangers should not seem liberality. Philip, because his son endeavoured by gifts to purchase the good will of the Macedonians, by a letter seemed to be displeased and chid him in this manner: What? wouldst thou have thy subjects to account thee for their purse-bearer, and not repute thee for their King? Wilt thou frequent and practise them? Then do it with the benefits of thy virtue, not with those of thy coffers: Yet was it a goodly thing, to cause a great quantity of great trees, all branchy and green, to be far brought and planted in plots yielding nothing but dry gravel, representing a wild shady forest, divided in due seemly proportion: And the first day, to put into the same a thousand Estriges, a thousand Stags, a thousand wild Boars, and a thousand Bucks, yielding them over to be hunted and killed by the common people: the next morrow in the presence of all the assembly to cause a hundred great Lions, a hundred Leopards, and three hundred huge Bears to be baited and tugged in pieces: and for the third day, in bloody manner and good earnest to make three hundred couple of Gladiators or Fencers, to combat and murder one another; as did the Emperor Probus. It was also a goodly show, to see those wondrous huge Amphitheatres all enchased with rich marble, on the out side curiously wrought with carved statues, and all the inner side glittering with precious and rare embellishments, Baltheus en gemmis, en illita porticus auro. A belt beset with gems behold, Behold a walk bedaubed with gold. All the sides round about that great void, replenished and environed from the ground unto the very top, with three or four score ranks of steps and seats, likewise all of marble covered with fair cushions, — exeat, inquit, javen. Sat. 3. 153. Si pudor est, & de pulvino surgat equestri, Cuius res legi non sufficit. If shame there be, let him be gone, he cries, And from his knightly cushion let him rise, Whose substance to the law doth not suffice. Where might conveniently be placed an hundred thousand men, and all sit at ease. And the plaine-ground-worke of it, where sports were to be acted, first by Art to cause the same to open and chap in sunder with gaps and cranishes, representing hollow caverns which vomited out the beasts appointed for the spectacle: That ended, immediately to overflow it all with a main deep sea, fraught with store of sea-monsters and other strange fishes, all overlaid with goodly tall ships, ready rigged and appointed to represent a Sea-fight; and thirdly, suddenly to make it smooth and dry again, for the combat of Gladiators: and fourthly being forthwith cleansed, to strew it over with Vermilion and Storay, instead of gravel, for the erecting of a solemn banquet, for all that infinite number of people: the last act of one only day. — quoties nos descendentis arenae Vidimus in parts, ruptaque voragine terrae Emersisse feras, & ijsdem saepe latebris Aurea cum croceo creverunt arbuta libro. Nec solum nobis siluestria cernere monstra Contigit, aequoreos ego cum certantibus ursis Spectavi vitulos, et equorum nomine dignum, Sed deform pecus. How oft have we beheld wild beasts appear From broken gulfs of earth, upon some part Of sand that did not sink? how often there And thence did golden boughs oresaffroned start? Nor only saw we monsters of the wood, But I have seen Sea-calues whom Bears withstood, And such a kind of beast as might be named A horse, but in most foul proportion framed. They have sometimes caused an high steepy mountain to arise in the midst of the said Amphitheatres, all overspread with fruitful and flourishing trees of all sorts, on the top whereof gushed out streams of water, as from out the source of a purling spring. Other times they have produced therein a great tall Ship floating up and down, which of itself opened and split a sunder, and after it had disgorged from out it's bulk, four or five hundred wild beasts to be baited, it closed and vanished away of itself, without any visible help. Sometimes from out the bottom of it, they caused streaks and purl of sweet water to spout up, bubbling to the highest top of the frame, and gently watering, sprinkling and refreshing that infinite multitude. To keep and cover themselves from the violence of the wether, they caused that huge compass to be all overspread, sometimes with purple sails, all curiously wrought with the needle, sometimes of silk, and of some other colour, in the twinkling of an eye, as they pleased, they displayed and spread, or drew and pulled them in again. Quamuis non modico caleant spectacula sole Velareducuntur cumvenit Hermogenes. Though fervent Sun make't hot to see a play, When linnen-thieves come, sails are kept away. The nets likewise, which they used to put before the people, to save them from harm and violence of the baited beasts, were woven with gold. auro quoque tortarefulgent Retia. Nets with gold interlaced, Their shows with glittering graced. If any thing be excusable in such lavish excess, it is, where the invention and strangeness breedeth admiration, and not the costly charge. Even in those vanities, we may plainly perceive how fertile and happy those former ages were of other manner of wits, than ours are. It happeneth of this kind of fertility, as of all other productions of nature. We may not say what nature employed then the utmost of her power. We go not, but rather creep and stagger here and there: we go our pace. I imagine our knowledge to be weak in all senses: we neither discern far-forward, nor see much backward. It embraceth little, and liveth not long: It is shot both in extension of time, and in ampleness of matter or invention. Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona H●r. car. l. 4. ed. 9 25. Multi, sed omnes illachrymabiles Vrgentur, ignoti● longa Nocte. Before great Agamemnon and the rest, Many lived valiant, yet are all suppressed, Vnmoaned, unknown, in dark oblivions nest. Et supera bellum Troianum & funera Troiae, Lucret. l. 5. 326. Mul●s alias alij quoque res cecinere poetae. Beside the Trojan war, Troy's funeral night, Of other things did other Poets write. And Solon's narration concerning what he had learned of the Egyptian Priests, of their state's long-life, and manner how to learn and preserve strange or foreign histories, in mine opinion is not a testimony to be refused in this consideration. Si interminatam in omnes parts Cit Nat. De●. l. 1. magnitudinem regionum videremus, & temporum, in quam se inijciens animus & intendens, ita latè longeque peregrinatur, ut nullam oram ultimi videat, in qua possit insistere: In haec immenfitate infinita, vis innumerabilium appareret formarum. If we behold an unlimited greatness on all sides both of religions and times, whereupon the mind casting itself and intentine doth travel far and near, so as it sees no bounds of what is last, whereon it may insist; in this infinite immenfi●te there would appear a multitude of innumerable forms. If whatsoever hath come unto us by report of what is passed were true, and known of any body, it would be less than nothing, in respect of that which is unknown. And even of this image of the world, which whilst we live therein, glideth and passeth away, how wretched, how weak and how short is the knowledge of the most curious? Not only of the particular events, which fortune often maketh exemplar and of consequence: but of the state of mighty common wealths, large Monarkies and renowned nations, there escapeth our knowledge a hundred times more, then cometh unto our notice. We keep a coil, and wonder at the miraculous invention of our artillery, and rest amazed at the rare devise of Printing: when as unknown to us, other men, and an other end of the world named China, knew and had perfect use of both, a thousand years before. If we saw as much of this vast world, as we see but a least part of it, it is very likely we should perceive a perpetual multiplicity, and ever-rouling vicissitude of forms. Therein is nothing singular, and nothing rare, if regard be had unto nature, or to say better, if relation be had unto our knowledge: which is a weak foundation of our rules, and which doth commonly present us a right-false Image of things. How vainly do we nowadays conclude the declination and decrepitude of the world, by the fond arguments we draw from our own weakness, drooping and declination: jamque adeo affecta est ●tas, affectaque tellus: Lucret. l. 2. 1159. And now both age and land So sick affected stand. And as vainly did another conclude its birth and youth, by the vigour he perceived in the wits of his time, abounding in novelties and invention of diverse Arts: Verùm, ut opinor, habet novitatem, summa, recensque Ibid. 5. 330. Natura est mundi, neque pridem exordia cepit: Quare etiam quaedam nunc artes expoliuntur, Nunc etiam augescunt, nunc addita navigijs sunt Multae. But all this world is new, as I suppose, World's nature fresh, nor lately it arose: Whereby some arts refined are in fashion, And many things now to our navigation Are added, daily grown to augmentation. Our world hath of late discovered another (and who can warrant us whether it be the last of his brethren, since both the Daemons, the Sybilles', and all we have hitherto been ignorant of this?) no less large, fully-peopled, all-things-yeelding, and mighty in strength, than ours: nevertheless so new and infantine, that he is yet to learn his A. B. C. It is not yet full fifty years that he knew neither letters, nor weight, nor measures, nor apparel, nor corn, nor vines. But was all naked, simply-pure, in Nature's lap, and lived but with such means and food as his mother-nurce afforded him. If we conclude aright of our end, and the foresaid Poet of the infancy of his age, this late-world shall but come to light, when ours shall fall into darkness. The whole Universe shall fall into a palsy or convulsion of sinews: one member shall be maimed or shrunken, another nimble and in good plight. I fear, that by our contagion, we shall directly have furthered his declination, and hastened his ruin; and that we shall too dearly have sold him our opinions, our new-fangles and our Arts. It was an unpolluted, harmless infant world; yet have we not whipped and submitted the same unto our discipline, or schooled him by the advantage of our valour or natural forces; nor have we instructed him by our justice and integrity; nor subdued by our magnanimity. Most of their answers, and a number of the negotiations we have had with them, witness that they were nothing short of us, nor beholding to us for any excellency of natural wit or perspicuity, concerning pertinency. The wonderful, or as I may call it, amazement-breeding magnificence of the never-like seen Cities of Cusco and Mexico, and amongst infinite such like things, the admirable Garden of that King, where all the Trees, the Fruits, the Herbs and Plants, according to the order and greatness they have in a Garden, were most artificially framed in gold: as also in his Cabinet, all the living creatures that his Country or his Seas produced, were cast in gold; and the exquisite beauty of their works, in precious Stones, in Feathers, in Cotton and in Painting; show that they yielded as little unto us in cunning and industry. But concerning unfeigned devotion, awful observance of laws, unspotted integrity, bounteous liberality, due loyalty and free liberty, it hath greatly availed us, that we had not so much as they: By which advantage, they have lost, castaway, sold, undone and betrayed themselves. Touching hardiness and undaunted courage, and as for matchless constancy, unmooved assuredness, and undismaied resolution against pain, smarting, famine and death itself; I will not fear to oppose the examples which I may easily find amongst them, to the most famous ancient examples, we may with all our industry discover in all the Annalles and memories of our known old World. For, as for those which have subdued them, let them lay aside the wiles, the policies and stratagems, which they have employed to cozen, to coney-catch, and to circumvent them; and the just astonishment which those nations might justly conceive, by seeing so unexpected an arrival of bearded men; diverse in language, in habit, in religion, in behaviour, in form, in countenance; and from a part of the world so distant, and where they never heard any habitation was: mounted upon great and unknown monsters; against those, who had never so much as seen any horse, and less any beast whatsoever apt to bear, or taught to carry either man or burden; covered with a shining and hard skin, and armed with slicing-keene weapons and glittering armour: against them, who for the wonder of the glistering of a looking-glass or of a plain knife, would have changed or given inestimable riches in Gold, Precious Stones and Pearls; and who had neither the skill nor the matter wherewith at any leisure, they could have pierced our steel: to which you may add the flashing-fire and thundering roar ofshotte and Harguebuses; able to quell and daunt even Caesar himself, had he been so suddenly surprised and as little experienced as they were: and thus to come unto, and assault silly-naked people, saving where the invention of weaving of Cotton cloth was known and used: for the most altogether unarmed, except some bows, stones, staves and wooden bucklers: unsuspecting poor people, surprised under colour of amity and well-meaning faith, overtaken by the curiosity to see strange and unknown things: I say, take this disparity from the conquerors, and you deprive them of all the occasions and cause of so many unexpected victories. When I consider that sterne-untamed obstinacy, and undaunted vehemence, wherewith so many thousands of men, of women and children, do so infinite times present themselves unto inevitable dangers, for the defence of their Gods and liberty: This generous obstinacy to endure all extremities, all difficulties and death, more easily and willingly, then basely to yield unto their domination, of whom they have so abominably been abused: some of them choosing rather to starve with hunger and fasting, being taken, then to accept food at their enemy's hands, so basely victorious: I perceive, that whosoever had undertaken them man to man, without odds of arms, of experience or of number, should have had as dangerous a war, or perhaps more, as any we see amongst us. Why did not so glorious a conquest happen under Alexander, or during the time of the ancient greeks and Romans? or why befell not so great a change and alteration of Empires and people, under such hands as would gently have polished, reformed and incivilized, what in them they deemed to be barbarous and rude: or would have nourished and fostered those good seeds, which nature had there brought forth: adding not only to the manuring of their grounds and ornaments of their cities such arts as we had; and that no further than had been necessary for them, but therewithal joining unto the original virtues of the country, those of the ancient Grecians and Romans? What reputation and what reformation would all that farre-spredding world have found, if the examples, demeanours and policies, wherewith we first presented them, had called and alured those uncorrupted nations, to the admiration and imitation of virtue, and had established between them and us a brotherly society and mutual correspondency? How easy a matter had it been, profitably to reform, and christianly to instruct, minds yet so pure and new, so willing to be taught, being for the most part endowed with so docile, so apt and so yielding natural beginnings? whereas contrariwise, we have made use of their ignorance and inexperience, draw them more easily unto treason, fraud, luxury, avarice and all manner of inhumanity and cruelty, by the example of our life, and pattern of our customs. Who ever raised the service of merchandise and benefit of traffic to so high a rate? So many goodly cities ransacked and razed; so many nations destroyed and made desolate; so infinite millions of harmless people of all sexes, states and ages, massacred, ravaged and put to the sword; and the richest, the fairest and the best part of the world topsituruied, ruined and defaced for the traffic of Pearls and Pepper: Oh mecanicall victories, oh base conquest. Never did blind ambition, never did greedy revenge, public wrongs or general enmities, so moodily enrage, and so passionately incense men against men, unto so horrible hostilities, bloody dissipation, and miserable calamities. Certain Spaniards coasting alongst the Sea in search of mines, fortued to land in a very fertile, pleasant and well peopled country: unto the inhabitants whereof they declared their intent, and showed their accustomed persuasions; saying: That they were quiet and well meaning-men, coming from farre-countries, being sent from the King of Castille, the greatest king of the habitable earth, unto whom the Pope, representing God on earth, had given the principality of all the Indies. That if they would become tributaries to him, they should be most kindly used and courteously entreated: They required of them victuals for their nourishment; and some gold for the behoof of certain Physical experiments. Moreover, they declared unto them, the believing in one only God, and the truth of our religion, which they persuaded them to embrace, adding thereto some minatory threats. Whose answer was this: That happily they might be quiet and well-meaning, but their countenance showed them to be otherwise: As concerning their King, since he seemed to beg, he showed to be poor and needy: And for the Pope, who had made that distribution, he expressed himself a man loving dissension, in going about to give unto a third man, a thing which was not his own: so to make it questionable and litigious amongst the ancient possessors of it. As for victuals, they should have part of their store: And for gold, they had but little, and that it was a thing they made very small account of, as merely unprofitable for the service of their life, whereas all their care was but how to pass it happily and pleasantly: and therefore, what quantity soever they should find, that only excepted which was employed about the service of their Gods, they might boldly take it. As touching one only God, the discourse of him had very well pleased them: but they would by no means change their religion, under which they had for so long time lived so happily: and that they were not accustomed to take any counsel, but of their friends and acquaintance. As concerning their menaces, it was a sign of want of judgement, to threaten those, whose nature, condition, power and means was to them unknown. And therefore they should with all speed hasten to avoid their dominions, forsomuch as they were wont to admit or take in good part the kindnesses and remonstrances of armed people, namely of strangers, otherwise they would deal with them, as they had done with such others, showing them the heads of certain men sticking upon stakes about their City, which had lately been executed. Lo here an example of the stammering of this infancy. But so it is, neither in this, nor in infinite other places, where the Spaniards found not the merchandise they sought for, neither made stay or attempted any violence, whatsoever other commodity the place yielded: witness my Canibales. Of two the most mighty and glorious monarch of that world, and peradventure of all our Western parts, Kings over so many Kings: the last they deposed and overcame: He of Peru, having by them been taken in a battle, and set at so excessive a ransom, that it exceedeth all belief, and that truly paid: and by his conversation having given them apparent signs of a free, liberal, undaunted and constant courage, and declared to be of a pure, noble, and well composed understanding; a humour possessed the conquerors, after they had most insolently exacted from him a Million, three hundred five and twenty thousand, and five hundred weights of gold; besides the silver and other precious things, which amounted to no less a sum (so that their horses were all should of massive gold) to discover what disloyalty or treachery soever it might cost them) what the remainder of this king's treasure might be, and without controlment enjoy what ever he might have hidden or concealed from them. Which to compass, they forged a false accusation and proof against him; That he practised to raise his provinces, and intended to induce his subjects to some insurrection, so to procure his liberty. Whereupon, by the very judgement of those who had complotted this forgery and treason against him, he was condemned to be publicly hanged and strangled: having first made him to redeem the torment of being burned alive, by the baptism which at the instant of his execution in charity they bestowed upon him. A horrible and the like never heard of accident: which nevertheless he undismayedly endured with an unmoved manner, and truly-royall gravity, without ever contradicting himself either in countenance or speech. And then, somewhat to mitigate and circumvent those silly unsuspecting people amazed and astonished at so strange a spectacle, they counterfeited a great mourning and lamentation for his death and appointed his funerals to be solemnly and sumptuously celebrated. The other King of Mexico, having a long time manfully defended his besieged City, and in that tedious siege, showed what ever pinching-sufferance and resolute-perseverance can effect, if ever any courageous Prince or warlike people showed the same; and his disastrous success having delivered him alive into his enemy's hands, upon conditions to be used as beseemed a King: who during the time of his imprisoment, did never make the least show of any thing unworthy that glorious title. After which victory, the Spaniards not finding that quantity of gold, they had promised themselves, when they had ransacked and ranged all corners, they by means of the cruelest tortures and horriblest torments they could possibly devise, began to wrest and draw some more from such prisoners as they had in keeping. But unable to profit any thing that way, finding stronger hearts than their torments, they in the end fell to such moody outrages, that contrary to all law of nations, and against their solemn vows and promises, they condemned the King himself and one of the chiefest Princes of his Court, to the Rack, one in presence of another: The Prince, environed round with hot burning coals, being overcome with the exceeding torment, at last in most piteous sort turning his dreary eyes toward his Master, as if he asked mercy of him for that he could endure no longer▪ The king fixing rigorously and fiercely his looks upon him, seeming to upbraid him with his remissness and pusilanimity, with a stern and settled voice uttered these few words unto him; What? supposest thou I am in a cold bath? am I at more ease than thou art? Where at the silly wretch immediately fainted under the torture, and yielded up the ghost. The king half roasted, was carried away: Not so much for pity (for what ruth could ever enter so barbarous minds, who upon the surmised information of some odd piece or vessel of gold, they intended to get, would broil a man before their eyes, and not a man only, but a king, so great in fortune and so renowned in desert?) but forsomuch as his unmatched constancy did more and more make their inhuman cruelty ashamed: They afterward hanged him, because he had courageously attempted by arms to deliver himself out of so long captivity and miserable subjection; where he ended his wretched life, worthy an high minded and never daunted Prince. At another time, in one same fire, they caused to be burned all alive four hundred common men, and three score principal Lords of a province, whom by the fortune of war they had taken prisoners. These narrations we have out of their own books: for they do not only avouch, but vauntingly publish them. May it be, they do it for a testimony of their justice or zeal toward their religion? verily they are ways overdifferent and enemies to so sacred an end. Had they proposed unto themselves to enlarge and propagate our religion, they would have considered, that it is not amplified by possession of lands, but of men: and would have been satisfied with such slaughters, as the necessity of war bringeth, without indifferently adding thereunto so bloody a butchery, as upon savage beasts; and so universal as fire or sword could ever attain unto; having purposely preserved no more than so many miserable bond slaves, as they deemed might suffice for the digging, working and service of their mines: So that divers of their chieftains have been executed to death, even in the places they had conquered, by the appointment of the Kings of Castille, justly offended at the seld-seen horror of their barbarous demeanours, and well nigh all disesteemed, contemned and hated. God hath meritoriously permitted, that many of their great pillages, and ill gotten goods, have either been swallowed up by the revenging Seas in transporting them, or consumed by the intestine wars and civil broils, wherewith themselves have devoured one another; and the greatest part of them have been overwhelmed and buried in the bowels of the earth, in the very places they found them, without any fruit of their victory. Touching the objection which some make, that the receit, namely in the hands of so thrifty, wary and wise a Prince, doth so little answer the fore-conceaved hope, which was given unto his predecessors and the said former abundance of riches, they met withal at the first discovery of this newfound world, (for although they bring home great quantity of gold and silver, we perceive the same to be nothing, in respect of what might be expected thence) it may be answered, that the use of money was there altogether unknown; and consequently, that all their gold was gathered together, serving to no other purpose, then for show, state and ornament, as a mooveable reserved from father to son by many puissant Kings, who exhausted all their mines; to collect so huge a heap of vessels and statues for the ornament of their Temples, and embellishing of their Palaces: whereas all our gold employed in commerce and traffic between man and man. We mince and alter it into a thousand forms: we spend, we scatter and disperse the same to several uses. Suppose our Kings should thus gather and heap up all the gold they might for many ages hoard up together, and keep it close and untouched. Those of the kingdom of Mexico were somewhat more encivilized, and better artistes, than other nations of that world. And as we do, so judged they, that this Vnivers was near his end: and took the desolation we brought amongst them as an infallible sign of it. They believed the state of the world, to be divided into five ages, and in the life of five succeeding Suns, whereof four had already ended their course or time; and the same which now shined upon them, was the fifth and last. The first perished together with all other creatures, by an universal inundation of waters. The second by the fall of the heavens upon us which stifled and overwhelmed every living thing: in which age they affirm the Giants to have been, and showed the Spaniards certain bones of them, according to whose proportion the stature of men came to be of the height of twenty handfuls. The third, was consumed by a violent fire, which burned and destroyed all. The fourth by a whirling emotion of the air and winds, which with the violent fury of itself, removed and overthrew divers high mountains: saying, that men died not of it, but were transformed into Munkeiss. (Oh what impressions doth not the weakness of man's belief admit?) After the consummation of this fourth Sun, the world continued five and twenty years in perpetual darkness: in the fifteenth of which one man and one woman were created, who renewed the race of mankind. Ten years after, upon a certain day, the Sun appeared as newly created: from which day beginneth ever since the calculation of their years. On the third day of whose creation, died their ancient Gods, their new ones have day by day been borne since. In what manner this last Sun shall perish, my author could not learn of them. But their number of this fourth change, doth jump and meet with that great conjunction of the Stars, which eight hundred and odd years since, according to the Astrologians supposition, produced divers great alterations and strange novelties in the world. Concerning the proud pomp and glorious magnificence, by occasion of which I am fallen into this discourse, nor Greece, nor Rome, nor Egypt, can (be it in profit, or difficulty or nobility) equal or compare sundry and divers of their works. The cawcy or highway which is yet to be seen in Peru, erected by the Kings of that country, stretching from the city of Quito, unto that of Cusco (containing three hundred leagues in length) strait, even, and fine, and twenty paces in breadth, curiously paved, raised on both sides with goodly, high masonrie-walles, all along which, on the inner side there are two continual running streams, pleasantly beset with beauteous trees, which they call Moly. In framing of which, where they met any mountains or rocks, they have cut, raised and leveled them, and filled all hollow places with lime and stone. At the end of every days journey, as stations, there are built stately great palaces, plenteously stored with all manner of good victuals, apparel and arms, as well for daily wayfairing men, as for such armies that might happen to pass that way. In the estimation of which work I have especially considered the difficulty, which in that place is particularly to be remembered. For they built with no stones that were less than ten foot square: They had no other means to carry or transport them, then by mere strength of arms to draw and drag the carriage they needed: they had not so much as the art to make scaffolds; nor knew other devise, then to raise so much earth or rubbish, against their building, according as the work riseth, and afterward to take it a way again. But return we to our coaches. In stead of them, and of all other carrying beasts they caused themselves to be carried by men, and upon their shoulders. This last King of Peru, the same day he was taken, was thus carried upon rafters or beams of massive Gold, sitting in a fair chair of state, likewise all of gold, in the middle of his battle. Look how may of his porters as were slain, to make him fall (for all their endeavour was to take him alive) so many others, and as it were avy, took and underwent presently the place of the dead: so that he could never be brought down or made to fall, what slaughter so ever was made of those kind of people, until such time as a horseman furiously ran to take him by some part of his body, and so pulled him to the ground. The seventh Chapter. Of the incommodity of greatness. SInce we cannot attain unto it, let us revenge ourselves with railing against it: yet is is not absolute railing, to find fault with any thing: There are defects found in all things, how fair soever in show, and desirable they be. It hath generally this evident advantage, that when ever it pleaseth it will decline, and hath well-nigh the choice of one and other condition. For a man doth not fall from all heights; diverse there are, whence a man may descend without falling. Verily, me seemeth, that we value it at too high a rate: and prise over-deare the resolution of those, whom we have either seen or heard, to have contemned, or of their own motion rejected the same. Her essence is not so evidently commodious, but a man may refuse it without wonder. Indeed I find the labour very hard in suffering of evils; but in the contentment of a mean measure of fortune, and shunning of greatness, therein I see no great difficulty. In my conceit, it is a virtue, whereunto myself, who am but a simple n●nny, might easily attain, and without great contention. What shall they do, who would also bring into consideration, the glory, which accompanieth this refusal, wherein may fall more ambition, than even in the desire and absolute enjoying of greatness? For somuch as ambition is never better directed according to itself, then by a straying and unfrequented path. I sharpen my courage toward patience, and weaken the same against desire. I have as much to wish for as another, and leave my wishes as much liberty and indiscretion: but yet, it never came into my mind, to wish for Empire, for royalty or eminency of high and commanding fortunes. I aim not that way: I love myself too well. When I think to grow, it is but meanly; with a forced and coward advancement; fit for me: yea in resolution, in wisdom, in health, in beauty and also in riches. But this credit, this aspiring reputation, this overswaying authority, suppresseth my imagination. And clean opposite to some other, I should peradventure love myself better, to be the second or third man in Perigot, than the first in Paris: At least, without feigning, I had rather be the third man in Paris, than the first in charge. I will neither contend with an Usher of a door, as a silly unknown man; nor with gaping and adoration make a Lane through the throng as I pass. I am enured to a mean calling; mediocrity best fitteth me, as well by my fortune, as by mine own humour. And have showed by the conduct of my life and course of my enterprises, that I have rather sought to avoid, then otherwise to embrace beyond the degree of fortune that at my birth it pleased God to call me unto. Each natural constitution, is equally just and easy. My mind is so dull and slow, that I measure not good fortune according to her height, but rather according to her facility. And if my hart be not great enough, it is rateably free and open, and who biddeth me, boldly to publish my weakness. Should any will me, on the one part, to confer and consider the life of L. Thorius Balbus, a worthy gallant man, wise, fair, goodly, healthy, of good understanding, richly-plentious in all manner of commodities and pleasures, leading a quiet easeful life, altogether his own, with a mind armed, and well prepared against death, superstition, griefs, cares and other encumbrances of human necessity; dying in his old age, in an honourable battle, with his weapons in his hand, for the defence of his country; and on the other side the life of M. Rugulus, so high and great, as all men know, together with his admirable and glorious end: the one unmentioned and without dignity, the other exemplare and wonderful renowned: truly I would say what Cicero saith of it, had I the gift of well-speaking as he had. But if I were to suit them unto mine, I would also say, that the former is as much agreeing to my quality, and to the desire I endeavour to conform my quality unto, as the second is far beyond it. That to this I cannot attain but by veneration; and to the other I would willingly attain by custom. But return we to our temporal greatness, whence we have digressed. I am distasted of all mastery, both active and passive. Otanes one of the seven that by right might challenge the crown, or pretend the kingdom of Persia, resolved upon such a resolution as I should easily have done the like: which was, that he utterly renounced all manner of claim he might in any sort pretend unto that crown, to his fellow competitores, were it either by election or chance: always provided that both himself and all his, might live in that Empire, free from all subjections, and exempted from all manner of commandment, except that of the ancient laws: and might both challenge all liberty, and enjoy all immunities, that should not prejudice them: being as impatient to command, as to becommanded. The sharpest and most aificile profession of the world, is (in mine opinion) worthily to act and play the King. I excuse more of their faults, then commonly other men do: and that in consideration of the downe-bearing weight of their immense charge, which much astonisheth me: It is a very hard task to keep a ave measure, in so unmeasurable a power. Yet is it, that even with those, that are of a less excellent nature, it is a singular incitation to virtue, to be seated in such a place, where you shall do no manner of good, that is not registered and recorded: And where the least well-dooing, extendeth to so many persons: And where your sufficiency (as that of Preachers) is principally directed to the people; a weak and partial judge, easily to be beguiled, and easy to be pleased There are but few things, of which we may give a sincere judgement: for there be very few, wherein in some sort or other, we are not particularly interessed. Superiority and inferiority, mastery and subjection, are jointly tied unto a natural kind of envy and contestation; they must perpetually enter-spoile one another. I believe neither the one nor the other, concerning her companions rights: let us suffer reason to speak of it, which is inflexible and impassable, when or how we shall make an end. I was not long since reading of two Scottish books striving upon this subject. The popular makes the King to be of worse condition than a Carter: and he that extolleth Monarchy, placeth him both in power and sovereignty, many steps above the Gods. Now the incommodity of greatness, which here I have undertaken to note and speak of, (upon some occasion lately befallen me) is this. There is peradventure nothing more pleasing to the commerce of men, than the Essays, which we through jealousy of honour or valour, make one against another, be it in the exercise of the body or of the mind: wherein sovereign greatness, hath no true or essential part. Verily, it hath often seemed unto me, that through over much respect, Princes are therein used disdainfully and treated iniurioushe: For, the thing whereat (in my youth) I was infinitely offended, was, that those which were trained and schooled with me, should for bear to do it in good earnest, because they found me unworthy to be withstood or to resist their endeavours. It is that we daily see to happen unto them; every man finding himself unworthy to force himself against them. If one perceive them never so little affected to have the victory, there is none but will strive to yield it them, and that will not rather wrong his glory, then offend theirs: No man employeth more diligence than needs he must to serve their honour. What share have Princes in the throng, where all are for them? Me thinks I see those Paladines of former ages, presenting themselves in jousts, tiltings and combats, with bodies and arms enchanted. Brisson running against Alexander, counterfeited his course: Alexander chid him for it: but he should have caused him to be whipped. For this consideration, was Carneades wont to say, that Prince children learned nothing aright but to manage and ride horses; for somuch as in all other exercises, every manyeeldeth, and giveth them the victory: but a horse who is neither a flatterer nor a Courtier, will as soon throw the child of a king as the son of a base porter. Homer hath been forced to consent that Venus (so sweet a saint and delicate a Goddess) should be hurt at the siege of Troy, thereby to ascribe courage and hardiness unto her qualities never seen in those that are exempted from danger. The Gods themselves are feigned to be angry, to fear, to be jealous, to grieve, to show passion, and be subject to mortal sense, thereby to honour them with the virtues which Poets devise and Philosophers invent amongst us: Nay, they are supposed to run away▪ and to have a feeling of all our imperfections. Who doth not participate both hazard and difficulties, cannot justly pretend interest in the honour, or challenge share in the pleasure, that followeth dangerous actions or hazardous attempts. It is pity a man should be so powerful, that all things must yield and give place unto him. Such as are in so high eminency of greatness, their fortune rejects society and conversation too far from them; she placeth them in over remote and uncouth places. This easeful life and plausible facility to bring all under, and subject men's minds, is an enemy to all manner of pleasure. It is a kind of sliding▪ and not a going▪ It is to sleep, and not to live. Conceive man accompanied with omnipotency, you overwhelm him: he must in begging manner crave some impeachment and resistance of you. His being and his good, is in want and indigence. Their good qualities are dead and lost: for, they are not heard but by comparison, and they are excluded: they have little knowledge of true praise, being beaten with so continual and uniform an approbation. Have they to do with the simplest of their subjects? thy have no mean to take advantage of him, if he but say; It is because he is my King, he supposeth to have sufficiently expressed, and you must understand, that in so saying, he hath lent a helping hand to overthrow himself. This quality suppresseth and consumeth all other true and essential qualities: they are even drowned in the Royalty; which gives them no leave, to make the offices of their charge to prevail, except in such actions as directly concern and stead the same. To be a King, is a matter of that consequence, that only by it he is so. That strange glimmering and eye-dazeling light, which round about environeth, overcasteth and hideth him from us: our weak sight is thereby bleared and dissipated, as being filled and obscured by that greater and further-spredding brightness. The Senate allotted the honour and prize of eloquence unto Tiberius; he refused it, supposing that if it had been true, he could not revenge himself of so limited and partial judgement. As we yield Princes all advantages of honour, so we aucthorize their defects and sooth-up their vices: not only by approbation, but also by imitation. All Alexander's followers bore their heads sideling, as he did. And such as flattered Dionysius, in his own presence did run and justle one another, and either stumbled at, or overthrew what ever stood before their feet, to infer; that they were as unbiased or spurblind, as he was. Natural imperfections have sometimes served for commendation and favour. Nay I have seen deafnesle affected. And because the master hated his wife, Plutarch hath seen courtiers to sue a divorce of theirs, whom they loved very well. And which is more paillardise and all manner of dissolution hath thereby been held in credit; as also disloyalty, blasphemy, cruelty, heresy, superstition, irreligion, wantonness and worse, if worse may be. Yea by an example more dangerous, then that of Mithridates his flatterers, who forsomuch as their master pretended to have skill in physic, and aspired to the honour of a good Physician, came to him to have their members incized and cauterized. For, these others suffer to have their souls cauterized; a much more precious and nobler part than the body. But to end where I began: Adrian the Emperor debating with Favorinus the Philosopher about the interpretation of some word; Favorinus did soon yield the victory unto him, his friends finding fault with him for it; you but jest, my masters (quoth he) would you not have him to be much wiser than I, who hath the absolute command over thirty legions? Augustus' writ some verses against Asinius Pollio, which Pollio hearing, he said, I will hold my peace; for, it is no wisdom to contend in writing with him, who may proscribe. And they had reason: For, Dionysius, because he could not equal Philoxenus in Poesy, nor match Plato in discourse, condemned the one to the stone-quaries, and sent the other to be sold as a slave in the I'll of Aegina. The eight Chapter. Of the Art of conferring. IT is a custom of our law, to condemn some, for the warning of others. To condemn them because they have misdone, were folly, as saith Plato. For what is once done can never be undone: but they are condemned to the end that they should not offend again, or that others may avoid the example of their offence. He who is hanged is not corrected, but others by him. Even so do I. My errors are sometimes natural, incorrigible and remediless. But whereas honest men profit the Commonwealth in causing themselves to be imitated. I shall happily benefit the same, in making myself to be evitated. Nun vides Albiut malè vivat filius, utque Hor Ser. l. 1. Sect. 4. 109. Barrus inops? magnum documentum, ne patriam rem Perdere quis velit. Do you not see, how that man's son lives badly, That man's a beggar by his spending madly? A lesson great, that none take joy: His patrimony to destroy. By publishing and accusing my imperfections, some man may peradventure learn to fear them. The parts I most esteem in myself, reap more honour by accusing, then by commending myself. And that's the cause I more often fall into them again, and rest upon them. But when all the cards be told, a man never speaks of himself, without loss. A man's own condemnations are ever increased: praises ever decreased. There may be some of my complexion, who am better instructed by contrariety then by similitude; and more by escaping then by following. Cato signior had a special regard to this kind of discipline, when he said, that wisemen have more to learn of fools, than fools of wisemen. And that ancient player on the Lyra, whom Pausantas reporteth, to have been accustomed to compel his scholars sometimes to go hear a bad Player, who dwelled right over-against him; where they might learn to hate his discords and false measures. The horror of cruelty draws me nearer unto clemency, than any pattern of clemency can possibly win me. A cunning rider or skilful horseman doth not so properly teach me, to sit well on horseback, as doth one of our Lawyers, or a Venetian by seeing him ride. And an ill manner of speech doth better reform mine, than any well-polished form of speaking. The sottish countenance of another, doth daily advertise and forewarn me. That which pricketh, toucheth and rouseth better, then that which delighteth. These times are fit to reform us backward, more by dissenting, then by consenting; more by difference then by accord. Being but little instructed by good examples, I make use of bad: the lesson of which is ordinary. I have endeavoured, nay I have laboured to yield myself as pleasing and affable, as I saw others peevish and froward: as constant, as I saw others variable; as gentle and mild, as I perceived others intractable and wild: and as good and honest, as I discerned others wicked and dishonest. But I proposed certain invincible measures unto myself. The most fruitful and natural exercise of our spirit, is, in myg selfe-plea●ing conceit, conference. The use whereof, I find to be more delightsome, than any other action of our life: And that's the reason, why, if I were now forced to choose, (being in the mind I now am in) I would rather yield to lose my sight, than fogoe my hearing or my speech. The Athenians and also the Romans, did ever hold this exercise in high honour and reputation, namely in their Academies. And at this day, the Italians do yet keep a kind of form and trace of it, to their great profit, as may apparently be discerned by comparing their wits unto ours. The study and plodding on books, is a languishing and weak kind of motion, and which heateth or earnesteth nothing; whereas conference doth both learn, teach and exercise at once. If I conferee with a stubborn wit, and encounter a sturdy wrestler, he toucheth me to the quick, hits me on the flanks, and pricks me both on the left and right side: his imaginations vanquish and confound mine. jealousy, glory and contention, drive, cast and raise me above myself. And an unison or consent, is a quality altogether tedious and wearisome in conference. But as our mind is fortified by the communication of regular and vigorous spirits; it cannot well be expressed, how much it looseth and is bastardized, by the continual commerce and frequentation, we have with base, weak and dull spirits. No contagion spreads itself further than that. I know by long experience what an ell of it is worth. I love to contest and discourse, but not with many, and only for myself. For, to serve as a spectacle unto great men, and by way of contention▪ for one to make a glorious show of his ready wit and running tongue; I deem it a profession far unfitting a man of honour. Sottishness is an ill quality, but not to be able to endure it, and to fret and vex at it, as it happeneth to me, is another kind of imperfection, which in opportunity is not much behind sottishness: and that's it I will now accuse in myself: I do with great liberty and facility, enter into conference and disputation: forsomuch as opinion finds but a hard soil to enter and take any deep root in me. No propositions amaze me, no conceit woundeth me, what contrariety soever they have to mine. There is no fantazie so frivolous or humour so extravagant, that in mine opinion is not sortable to the production, of human wit. We others, who debar our judgement of the right to make conclusions, regard but negligently the diverse opinions: and if we lend it not our judgement, we easily afford it our ears. Where one scale of the balance is altogether empty. I let the other waver too and fro, under an old wives dreams. And me seemeth, I may well be excused, if I rather accept an odd number, than an even: Thursday in respect of Friday, if I had rather make a twelfth or fourteenth at a table, than a thirteenth: if when I am traveling I would rather see a Hare coasting, then crossing my way: and rather reach my left, than my right foot, to be shod. All such fond conceits, now in credit about us, deserve at feast to be listened unto. As for me, they only bear away inanity, and surely they do so. Vulgar and casual opinions are yet of some weight, which in nature are something else than nothing. And who wadeth not so far into them, to avoid the vice of superstition, falleth happily into the blame of wilfulness. The contradictions then of judgements, do neither offend nor move, but awaken and exercise me. We commonly shun correction whereas we should rather seek and present ourselves unto it, chiefly when it cometh by the way of conference, and not of regency. At every opposition, we consider not whether it be just; but be it right or wrong, how we may avoid it: In steed of reaching our arms, we stretch forth our claws unto it. I should endure to be rudely handled and checked by my friends, though they should call me fool, coxcomb or say I raved. I love a man that doth stoutly express himself, amongst honest and worthy men and whose words answer his thoughts. We should fortify and harden our hearing, against the tenderness of the ceremonious sound of words. I love a friendly society and a virile and constant familiarity: An amity, which in the earnestness and vigour of its commerce, flattereth itself: as love in bitings and bloody scratchings. It is not sufficiently generous or vigorous, except it be contentious and quarelous: If she be civilised and a skilful artist: if it fear a shock or free encounter, and have her starting holes or forced byways. Neque enim disputari sine reprehersione potest. Disputation cannot be held without reprehension. When I am impugned or contraried, then is mine attention and not mine anger, stirred up; I advance myself toward him, that doth gainsay and instruct me. The cause of truth, aught to be the common cause, both to one and other: What can he answer? The passion of choler hath already wounded his judgement: trouble, before reason hath seized upon it. It were both profitable and necessary, that the determining of our disputations, might be decided by way of wagers; and that there were a material mark of our losses: that we might better remember and make more account of it: and that my boy might say unto me: Sir, if you call to mind; your contestation, your ignorance and your self-wilfulnesse, at several times, cost you a hundred crowns the last year: I feast, I cherish and I embrace truth, where and in whom soever I find it, and willingly and merrily yield myself unto her; as soon as I see but her approach, though it be a far-off, I lay down my weapons and yield myself vanquished. And always provided, one persist not or proceed therein, with an over imperious stiffness or commanding surliness; I am well pleased to be reproved. And I often accommodate myself unto my accusers, more by reason of civility, then by occasion of amendment: loving by the facility of yielding, to gratify and foster their liberty, to teach or advertise me. It is notwithstanding no easy matter to draw men of my times unto it. They have not the courage to correct, because they want the hart to endure correction: And ever speak with dissimulation in presence one of another. I take so great a pleasure to be judged and known, that it is indifferent to me, in whether of the two forms I be so. Mine own imagination doth so often contradict and condemn itself, that if another do it, all is one unto me; especially seeing, I give his reprehension no other authority than I list. But I shall break a straw or fall at odds with him, that keeps himself so aloft; as I know some, that will fret and chafe if their opinions be not believed, and who take it as an injury, yea and fall out with their best friends, if they will not follow it. And that Socrates ever smiling, made a collection of such contradictions as were opposed to his discourse, one might say, his force was cause of it; and that the advantage being assuredly to fall on his side, he took them as a subject of a new victory. Nevertheless we see on the contrary, that nothing doth so nicely yield our sense unto it as the opinion of pre-eminence and disdain of the adversary. And that by reason, it rather befits the weakest to accept of oppositions in good part, which restore and repair him. Verily I seek more the conversation of such as curb me, then of those that fear me. It is an unsavoury and hurtful pleasure, to have to do with men, who admire and give us place. Antisthenes' commanded his children, never to be boholding unto, or thank any that should command them. I feel myself more lusty and crank for the victory I gain over myself, when in the heat or fury of the combat, I perceive to bend and fall under the power of my adversaries reason, than I am pleased with the victory, I obtain of him by his weakness. To conclude, I receive all blows and allow all attaints given directly, how weak soever: but am very impatient at such as are strucken at randan and without order, I care but little for the matter, and with me opinions are all one, and the victory of the subject in a manner in different. I shall quietly contest a whole day, if the conduct of the controversy be followed with order and decorum. It is not force nor subtlety, that I so much require, as form and order. The form and order, daily seen in the altercations of Shepherds, or contentions of shop-prentise-boyes; but never amongst us; If they part or give one another over, it is with incivility: and so do we. But their wrangling, their brawling and impatience, cannot make them to forego or forget their theme. Their discourse holds on his course. If they prevent one another, if they stay not for, at least they understand one another. A man doth ever answer sufficiently well for me, if he answer what I say. But when the disputation is confounded and orderless, I quit the matter, and betake me to the form, with spite and indiscretion: and embrace a kind of debating, tasty, headlong, malicious and imperious, whereat I afterward blush. It is impossible to treat quietly and dispute orderly with a fool. My judgement is not only corrupted under the hand of so imperious a master, but my conscience also. Our disputations ought to be forbidden and punished, as other verbal crimes. What vice raise they not, and heap up together, being ever swayed and commanded by choler? First we enter into enmity with the reasons, and then with the men. We learn not to dispute, except it be to contradict: and every man contradicting and being contradicted, it commonly followeth, that the fruit of disputing, is to lose and to disannul the truth. So Plato in his common wealth, forbiddeth foolish, unapt and baseminded spirits, to undertake that exercise. To what purpose go you about to quest or inquire that which is with him, who hath neither good pace nor proceeding of worth? No man wrongs the subject, when he quits the same, for want of means to treat or manage it. I mean not a scholastical and artist mean, but intent a natural mean, and of a sound understanding. What will the end be? one goeth Eastward, and another Westward: They lose the principal, and stray it in the throng of incidents. At the end of an hours wrangling, they wot not what they seek for: one is high, another low, and another wide. Some take hold of a word, some of a similitude. Some forget what was objected against them, so much are they engaged in the pursuit and think to follow themselves, and not you. Some finding themselves weake-backt, fear all, refuse all, and at the very entrance mingle the subject and confound the purpose: or in the heat of the disputation, mutiny to hold their peace altogether: through a spiteful ignorance, affecting a proud kind of contempt, or a foolish modesty avoydiug of contention. Provided that one strike and hit, he careth not how open he lie. Another compteth his words, and weigheth them for reasons; Another employeth no thing but the advantage of his voice and wind. Here one concludeth against himself; here another wearieth you with idle prefaces, and frivolous digressions. Another armeth himself afore hand with injuries, and seeks after a Dutch quarrel, to rid himself of the society, and shake off the conference of a spirit, that presseth and over beareth his. This last hath no insight at all in reason, but still beleagreth you with the dialectical or logical close of his clavs●, and ties you to the rule of his art or form of his skill. Now who doth not enter into distrust of sciences, and is not in doubt, whether in any necessity of life he may reap solid fruit of them; if he consider the use we have of them? Nihil sanantibus literis. Since learning doth not cure. Who hath learned any wit or understanding in Logic? Where are her fair promises? Nec admelius vi●endum nec, ad commodius disserendum. Nether to live better or to dispute fitter. Shall a man hear more brabbling or confusion in the tittle-tatle of fish wi●es or scolding sluts, then in the public disputations of men of this profession? I had rather my child should learn to speak in a Tavern, then in the schools of well-speaking Arte. Take you a master of arts, and confer with him, why doth he not make us perceive his artificial exceliencie, and by the admiration of his reasons-constancie, or with the beauty of his acquaint order, and grace of his method, ravish silly women, and blear ignorant men as we are? Why doth he not sway, wind, and persuade us as he list? Why should one so advantageous in matter and conduct, entermixe injuries, indiscretion and choleric rage with his fence? Let him pull-of his two-faced hood, his gown and his latin, let him not fill our ears with merely believed Aristotle, you will discover and take him for one of us, and worse if worse my Bee. Me thinks this implication and entangling of speech, wherewith they do so much importune us, may fitly be compared unto jugglers play of fast and loose: their nimbleness combats and forceth our senses, but it nothing shaketh our belief: Take away their juggling, what they do is but base, common and slight. Though they be more witty and nimble spirited, they are not the less foolish, simple and unapt. I love wit, and honour wisdom, as much as them that have it. And being rightly used, it is the noblest, the most forcible, yea and richest purchase men can make. But in such (of which kind the number is infinite) that upon it establish their fundamental sufficiency and worth: that from their wit refer themselves to their memory, sub aliena umbra latentes: reposing them under another man's protection; and can do nothing but by the book (if I may be bold to say so) I hate the same, a little more than sottishness. In my country, and in my days, learning and bookishnes, doth much mend purses, but minds nothing at all. If it chance to find them empty light and dry, it filleth, it over-burthens and swelleth them: a raw and indigested mass: if thin, it doth easily purify, clarify, extenuate and subtilize them, even unto exinanition or evacuation. It is a thing of aquality very near indifferent: a most profitable accessary or ornament unto a well borne mind, but pernicious and hurtfully domagable unto any other. Or rather a thing of most precious use, that will not basely be gotten, nor vilely possessed. In some hands a royal sceptre, in other some a rude mattock. But let us proceed. What greater or more glorious victory can you expect, then teach your enemy, that he cannot withstand you? When you gain the advantage of your proposition, it is Truth that winneth: when you get the advantage of the order and conduct, it is you that win. I am of opinion, that both in Plato and in Xenophon, Socrates disputeth more in favour of the disputers, then in grace of the disputation: and more to instruct Euthydemus and Protagoras with the knowledge of their impertinency, then with the impertinency of their art. He takes hold of the first matter, as he who hath a more profitable end, then to clear it; that is, to clear the spirits he undertaketh to manage and to exercise. Agitation, stirring and hunting is properly belonging to our subject or drift; we are not excusable to conduct the same ill and impertinently, but to miss the game, and fail in taking, that's another matter. For we are borne to quest and seek after truth; to possess it belongs to a greater power. It is not (as Democritus said) hidden in the deeps of abyss: but rather elevated in infinite height of divine knowledge. The world is but a School of inquisition. The matter is not who shall put in, but who shall run the fairest courses. As well may he play the fool that speaketh truly, as he that speaketh falsely: for we are upon the manner, and not upon the matter of speaking. My humour is, to have as great aregarde to the form, as to the substance; as much respect to the Advocate, as to the cause; as Alcibiades appointed we should do. And I day lie ammuse myself to read in authors, without care of their learning: therein seeking their manner, not their subject. Even as I pursue the communication of some famous wit, not that he should teach me, but that I may know him; and knowing him (if he deserve it) I may imitate him. Every one may speak truly, but to speak orderly, methodically, wisely and sufficiently, few can do it. So falsehood proceeding of ignorance doth not offend me; ineptness and trifling doth. I have broken-off divers bargains, that would have been very commodious unto me, by the impertinency of their contestation, with whom I did bargain. I am not moved once a year, with the faults or oversights of those, over whom I have power: but touching the point of the sottishinesse and foolishness of their allegations, excuses, and defences, rude and brutish, we are every day ready to go by the ears. They neither understand what is said nor wherefore, and even so they answer; a thing able to make one despair. I feel not my head to shock hard but by being hit with another. And I rather enter into composition with my people's vices, then with their rashness, importunity and foolishness. Let them do less, provided they be capable to do. You live in hope to inflame their will: But of a block there is nothing to be hoped for, nor any thing of worth to be enjoyed. Now, what if I take things otherwise then they are? So it may be: And therefore I accuse my impatience. And first I hold, that it is equally vicious in him, who is in the right, as in him, that is in the wrong: For, it is ever a kind of tyrannical sharpness, not to be able to endure a form different from his: and verily, since there is not a greater fondness, a more constant gullishnesse, or more heteroclite insipidity then for one to move or vex himself at the fondness, at the gullishnesse, or insipidity of the world: For it principally formalizeth and moveth us against ourselves: and that Philosopher of former ages should never have wanted occasion to weep, so long as he had considered himself. Miso, one of the seven sages (a man of a Timonian disposition and democratical humour) being demanded, where-at he laughed alone; he answered, because I laugh alone; How many follies do I speak and answer every day, according to myself; and then how much more frequent according to others? And if I bite mine own lips at them, what ought others to do? In fine, we must live with the quick, and let the water run under the bridge, without any care, or at least without alteration to us. In good sooth, why meet we sometimes with crooked, deformed, and in body misshapen men, without falling into rage and discontent, and cannot endure to light-upon a froward, skittish, and ill-ranged spirit, without falling into anger and vexation? This vicious austerity is rather in the judge, then in the fault. Let us ever have that saying of Plato in our mouths: What I find unwholesome, is it not to be unhealthy myself? Am not I in fault myself? May not mine own advertisement be retorted against myself? Oh wise and divine restraint, that curbeth the most universal and common error of men: Not only the reproaches, we do one to another, but our reasons, our arguments and matters controversed, are ordinarily retortable unto us: and we pinch ourselves up in our own arms. Whereof antiquity hath left me diverse grave examples. It was ingeniously spoken and fit to the purpose, by him that first devised the same. Stercus cuique suum bene olet. Eras. chil. 3. cent. 4. ad. 2. Every man's ordure well, To his own sense doth smell. Our eyes see nothing backward. A hundred times a day we mock ourselves, upon our neighbour's subject, and detest some defects in others, that are much more apparent in us; yea and admire them with a strange impudency and unheedinesse. Even yesterday, I chanced to see a man of reasonable understanding, who no less pleasantly then justly flouted at another's fond fashion, and yet upon every silly occasion doth nothing but molest all men with the impertinent bead-roll and register of his pedigrees, genealogies and alliances, more than half false and wrested in; (for it is the manner of such people, commonly to undertake such foolish discourses, whose qualities are more doubtful and less sure) who if he had impartially considered and looked upon himself, should doubtless have found himself no less intemperate, indiscreet, and tedious, in publishing and extolling the prerogative of his wife's pedigree and descent. Oh importunate presumption, wherewith the wife seeth herself armed by the hands of her own husband. If he understand Latin, a man should say to him, Age si h●c non insanit satis sua sponte, instiga. Ter. And. act. 4. sc. 2. Go too, if of her own accord before, She were not mad enough, provoke her more. I say not, that none should accuse, except he be spotless in himself: For than none might accuse: no not spotless in the same kind of fault. But my meaning is, that our judgement charging and blaming another, of whom there is then question, spareth us nothing, of an inward and severe jurisdiction. It is an office of charity, that he who cannot remove a vice from himself, should nevertheless endeavour to remove it from others, where it may have a less hurtful and froward seed. Nor do I deem it a fit answer, for him that warneth me of my fault, to say, the same is likewise in him. But what of that? Well meaning warning is always true and profitable. Had we a good and sound nose, our own ordure should be more unsavoury unto ourselves, forasmuch as it is our own. And Socrates is of opinion, that he, who should find himself, and his son, and a stranger guilty of any violence or injury, ought first begin by himself, and present himself to the sentence and condemnation of the law, and for his own discharge and acquittal implore the assistance of the executioners hand: secondly for his son, and lastly for the stranger. If this precept take his tune somewhat too high: it should at least be first presented to the punishment of ones own conscience. Our senses are our proper and first judges, who distinguish not things, but by external accidents; and no marvel, if in all parts of the service belonging to our society, there is so perpetual and universal commixture of ceremonies and superficial appearances: so that the best and most effectual part of policies, consists in that. It is man with whom we have always to do, whose condition is marvelously corporal. Let those, who in these latter days have so earnestly laboured, to frame and establish unto us, an exercise of religion and service of God, so contemplative and immaterial, wonder nothing at all, if some be found, who think, it would have escaped and mouldered away between their fingers, if it had not held and continued amongst us, as a mark, a title and instrument of division and faction, more than by itself. As in conference: The gravity, the gown and the fortune of him that speaketh, doth often add and win credit unto vain, trifling and absurd discourses. It is not to be presumed, that one of these gown▪ Clerks or quoifed Sergeants, so followed, and so redoubted, have not some sufficiency within him, more than popular: and that a man so sullen so grim and so disdainful, to whom so many commissions, charges and authorities are given▪ be not more sufficient and worthy, than another, who saluteth and vaileth to him so far-off, and whom no man employeth. Not only the words, but the pouting of such people, are considered and registered, every one applying himself to give them some notable and solid interpretation. If they sloop to common conference, and that a man afford or show them other then reverence and approbation, they overthrow you with the authority of their experience: they have read, they have heard, seen and done goodly things, you are clean overwhelmed with examples. I would feign tell them, that the fruit of a chirurgeons experience, is not the story of his practices, or the remembrance that he hath cured four who had the plague, and healed as many that had the Gout, except he know and have the wit, from his use and experience, to draw a method how to frame his judgements and by his skill and practise make us perceive, he is become wiser in his art. As in a consort of instruments, one hears not severally a Lute, a Viol, a Flute, or a pair of virginals, but a perfect-full harmony: the assembly and fruit of all those instruments in one. If their travels and charges have amended them, it is in the production of their understanding to make it appear. It sufficeth not to number the experiments; they ought to be well poised and orderly sorted: and to extract the reasons and conclusions they contain, they should be well digested and thoroughly distilled. There were never so many Historians. It is ever good and profitable to hear them: for out of the magazine of their memory, they store us with divers good instructions and commendable documents. Verily a chief part, for the assistance and directing of our life. But now a days we seek not after that, but raher whether the Collectors and reporters of them be praise worthy themselves. I hate all manner of tyranny, both verbal and effectual. I willingly bandy and oppose myself against these vain and frivolous circumstances, which by the senses delude our judgement; and holding myself aloof of from these extraordinary greatnesses, have found, that for the most part, they are but men as others be: Rarus enim fermè sensus communis in illa Fortuna. ●●ven. S●t. 8. 73. For common sense is seldom found In fortunes that so much abound. They are peradventure esteemed and discerned less than they be, forsomuch as they undertake more, and so show themselves; they answer not the charge they have taken. There must necessarily be more vigour and strength in the bearer, then in the burden. He who is not grown to his full strength, leaves you to guess, whether he have any left him beyond that, or have been tried to the utmost of his power. He who sainteth under his burden, bewrayeth his measure and the weakness of his shoulders. That's the reason, why amongst the wiser sort, there are so many foolish and unapt minds seen, and more than of others. They might happily have been made good husbandmen, thriving merchants, and plodding artificers. Their natural vigour was cut out to this proportion. Learning is a matter of great consequence: they faint under it. To install and distribute, so rich and so powerful a matter, and availefully to employ the same, their wit hath neither sufficient vigour, nor conduct enough to manage it. It hath no prevailing virtue but in a strong nature; and they are very rare: and such as are but weak (saith Socrates) corrupt and spoilingly deface the dignity of Philosophy, in handling the same. She seemeth faulty and unprofitable, being ill placed and unorderly disposed. Lo how they spoil and entangle themselves. Humani qualis simulator simius oris, Quem puer arridens, pretioso stamine serum Claud. metrop. 1. 303. Velavit, nudasque nates ac terga reliquit, Ludibrium mensis. Such counterfeits as Apes are of man's face, Whom children sporting at, featly incase In coastly coats, but leave his backside bare For men to laugh at, when they feasting are. To those likewise, who sway and command us, and have the world in their own hands, 'tis not sufficient to have a common understanding, and to be able to do, what we can effect. They are far beneath us, if they be not much above us. As they promise more, so owe they more. And therefore silence is in them, not only a countenance of respect and gravity, but often of thrift and profit: Megabysus going to visit Apelles in his workhouse, stood still a good while without speaking one word, and then began to discourse of his works. Of whom he received this rude and nipping check: So long as thou heldest thy peace, by reason of thy garish clothes, goodly chains and stately pomp, thou seemedst to be some worthy gallant: but now thou hast spoken, there is not the simplest boy of my shop, but scorneth and contemns thee. That great state of his, those rich habiliments, and goodly train, did not permit him to be ignorant with a popular ignorance and to speak impertinently of painting. He should have kept mute, and concealed his external and presuming sufficiency. Unto how many fond and shallow minds, hath in my days, a sullen, cold and silent countenance, served as a title of wisdom and capacity? Dignities, charges and places, are necessarily given, more by fortune then by merit: and they are often to blame, that for it lay the blame on Kings. chose it is a wonder, that being so untoward, they should therein have so good luck: Principis est virtus maxima, nosse suos. Chief virtue it is known, In Kings to know their own. For Nature hath not given them so perfect a sight, that it might extend itself and overlook so many people, to discern their pre-excellency; and enter their breasts, where lodgeth the knowledge of our will and better worth. It is by conjectures, and as it were groping they must try us: by our race, alliances, dependences, riches learning, and the people's voice: all over-weake arguments. He that could devise a mean, how men might be judged by law, chosen by reason, and advanced by desert, should establish a perfect form of a Commonwealth. Yea but he hath brought that great business unto a good pass. It is to say something: but not to say sufficiently. For, this sentence is justly received, That counsels ought not to be judged by the events. The Carthaginians were wont to punish the ill counsels of their Captains, although corrected by some fortunate success. And the Roman people hath often refused triumphs too famous, successful and most profitable victories, forsomuch as the General's conduct, answered not his good fortune. It is commonly perceived by the worlds actions, that fortune, to teach us, how far her power extendeth unto all things; and who taketh pleasure to abate our presumption, having not been able to make silly men wise, she hath made them fortunate, in envy of virtue: And commonly gives herself to favour executions, when as their complot and devise is merely hers. Whence we daily see, that the simplest amongst us, compass divers great and important affairs, both public and private. And as Sirannez the Persian Prince, answered those, who seemed to wonder how his negotiations succeeded so ill, his discourses being so wise: That he was only master of his discourses, but fortune mistress of his affairs success. These may answer the like; but with a contrary bias. Most things of the world are made by themselves. Fata viam inveniunt. Fates find and know, which way to go. Sirg. Aen. l. 3. 395. The issue doth often aucthorize a simple conduct. Our interposition is in a manner nothing else but an experience, and more commonly a consideration of use and example, then of reason. And as one amazed at the greatness of some business, I have sometimes understood by those who had achieved them, both their motives and addresses: wherein I have found but vulgar advices: and the most vulgar and used, are peradventure the surest and most commodious for the practice, if not for the show. And what if the plainest reasons are the best seated: the meanest, basest and most beaten, are best applied unto affairs? To maintain the authority of our Kings-counsell, it is not requisite, that profane persons should be partakers of it, and look further into it, then from the first bar. To uphold its reputation, it should be reverenced upon credit, and at full. My consultation doth somewhat roughly hew the matter, and by its first show, lightly consider the same: the main and chief point of the work, I am wont to resign to heaven. Permit divis caetera, How all the rue shall go, Hor. l. 1. od. 9 9 Give leave to Gods to know. Good and bad fortune, are in my conceit two sovereign powers 'tis folly to think, that human wisdom may act the full part of fortune. And vain is his enterprise, that presumeth to embrace both causes and consequences, and lead the progress of his fact by the hand. And above all, vainest in military deliberations. There was never more circumspection and militaty wisdom, then is sometimes seen amongst us: May it be that manfeareth to lose himself by the way, reserving himself to the catastrophe of that play? I say moreover, that even our wisdom and consultation for the most part followeth the conduct of hazard. My will and my discourse, is sometimes moved by one air, and sometimes by another: and there be many of these motions, that are governed without me. My reason hath daily impulsions and casual agitations: Vertuntur species animorum, & pectoramotus Virg. Geor l●. ● 20. Nunc alios, alios dum nubila ventis agebat. Concipiunt. The shows of minds are changed, and breasts conceive At one time motions, which anon they leave, And others take again, As winds drive clouds amain. Let but a man look who are the mightiest in Cities and who thrive best in their business: he shall commonly find, they are the silliest and poorest in wit. It hath happened to simple women, to weak children, and to mad men, to command great states, as well as the most sufficient Princes. And the gullish or shallowpated (saith Thucydides) do more ordinarily come unto them, than the wisest and subtlest. We ascribe their good fortunes effects, unto their prudence. — ut quisque fortuna utitur, Pla●c. Pscu. a●●. 5 sc. 4. Ita praecellit: at que exinde sapere illum omnes dicimus. As men their fortune use, so they excel, And so we say, they are wise and do well. Wherefore I say well, that howsoever, events are but weak testimonies of our worth and capacity. I was now upon this point, that we need but look upon a man advanced to dignity; had we but three days before known him to be of little or no worth at all: an image of greatness, and an Idea of sufficiency, doth insensibly glide and creep into our opinions; and we persuade ourselves, that increasing in state and credit and followers, he is also increased in merit. We judge of him, not according to his worth; but after the manner of castingcounters, according to the prerogative of his rank. But let fortune turn her wheel, let him again decline and come down amongst the vulgar multitude; every one with admiration inquireth of the cause, and how he was raised so high. Good Lord, is that he? will some say. What? knew he no more? had he no other skill when he was so aloft? Are Princes pleased with so little? Now in good sooth we were in very good hands, will others say. It is a thing myself have often seen in my days. Yea the very mask of greatness, or habit of majesty, represented in Tragedies, doth in some sort touch and beguile us. The thing I adore in Kings, is the throng of their adoratores. All inclination and submission is due unto them, except the minds. My reason is not framed to bend or stoop; my knees are. Melanthius being demanded, what he thought of Dionysius his tragedy, answered, I have not seen it, so much was it overclouded with language. So should those say, that judge of great men's discourses: I have not understood his discourse, so was it overdarkned with gravity, with greatness and with majesty. Antisthenes' one day persuaded the Athenians, to command, that their asses should as well be employed about the manuring of grounds, as were their horses: who answered him, that the Ass was not borne for such service: that's all one (quoth he) there needs but your allowance for it: for the most ignorant and incapable men you employ about the directing of your wars, leave not to become out of hand most worthy, only because you employ them. Whereupon depends the custom of so many men, who canonize the king, whom they have made amongst them, and are not contented to honour him, unless they also adore him. Those of Mexico, after the ceremonies of his consecration are finished, dare no more look him in the face: but as if by his royalty, they had deified him, they afterward deem him to be a God: amongst the oaths, they make him swear to maintain their religion, to keep their laws, to descend their liberties, to be valiant, just and debonair; he is also sworn to make the Sun march in his accustomed light: in time of need to cause the clouds shower down their waters; to enforce rivers to run in their right wont channels; and compel the earth to produce all necessary things for his people. I differ from this common fashion, and more distrust sufficiency, when I see it accompanied with the greatness of fortune, and applanded by popular commendation. We should heedfully mark, of what consequence it is, for a man to speak in due time, to choose fit opportunity, to break or change his discourse with a magistral authority: to defend himself from others oppositions, by a nod or moving of the head, by a smile, a shrug or a silence, before an assembly, trembling with reverence and respect. A man of monstrous fortune, chancing to shoot his boult, and give his opinion upon a frivolous subject, which but jestingly was tossed too and fro at his table, began ever thus; he cannot choose but be a liar, or an ignorant ass, that will say otherwise then, etc. Follow this Philosophical point, out cometh a dagger, and there is some mischief. Lo here another advertisement; from whence I reap good use; Which is, that in disputations and conferences, all good seeming words, ought not presently to be allowed and accepted. Most men are rich of a strange sufficiency. Some may chance to speak a notable saying, to give a good answer, to use a witty sentence, and to propound it, without knowing the force of it. That a man holdeth not all he borroweth, may peradventure be verified in myself. A man should not always yield, what truth or goodness soever it seemeth to contain. A man must either combat the same in good earnest, or draw-backe, under colour of not understanding the matter: to try on all parts, how it is placed in its author. It may fortune, that we shut ourselves up, and further the stroke, beyond its bearing. I have sometimes in necessity and throng of the combat, employed some reviradoes or turnings, which beyond my intent, have proved false offers. I but gave them by tale, and they were received by weight. Even as when I contend with a vigorous man; I please myself to anticipate his conclusions: I ease him the labour to interpret himself, I endeavour to prevent his imperfect and yet budding imagination: the order and pertinency of his understanding for warneth and menaceth a far off: of these others I do clean contrary; a man must understand or presuppose nothing but by them. If they judge in general terms: This is good; that's nought: and that they jump right; see whither it be fortune, that jumpeth for them. Let them a little circumscribe and restrain their sentence; wherefore it is, and which way it is. These universal judgements, I see so ordinarily say nothing at all. They are men, that salute a whole multitude, in throng and troop. Such as have true knowledge of the same, salute and mark it by name and particularly. But it is a hazardous enterprise. Whence I have oftener and daily seen, to happen that wits weakly grounded, intending to show themselves ingenious, by observing in the reading of some work, the point of beauty: stay their admiration with so bad a choice, that in lieu of teaching us the author's excellency, they show us their own ignorance. This manner of exclaimation is safe; Lo this is very excellent; Surely this is very good, having heard a whole page of Virgil. And that's the shift whereby the subtle save themselves, But to undertake to follow him by shrugs and crinches, and with an axpresse selected judgement to go about to mark which way a good author surmounteth himself; pondning his words, his phrases, his inventions, and his several virtues one after another: Away; go by; It is not for you. Videndum est non modo, quid quisque loquatur, sed etiam quid quisque sentiat, at que etiam qua de causa quisque sentiat. Man must take heed not only what he speaks, but what he thinks, and also why he thinks. I daily heat fools utter unfoolish words. Speak they any good thing; let us understand whence they know it, how far they understand and whereby they hold it. We help them to employ this fine word, and this goodly reason, which they possess not, and have but in keeping; they have happily produced the same by chance and at randan, ourselves bring it in credit and esteem with them. You lend them your hand; what to do? to konne you no thanks, and thereby become more simple, and more foolish. Do not second them; let them goeon: they will handle this matter as men afraid to bewray themselves, they dare neither change her seat or light, nor enter into it. Shake it never so little, it escapeth them; quit the same how strong and goodly soever it be. They are hand-some weapons, but ill hafted. How often have I seen the experience of it? Now if you come to expound and confirm them, they take hold of you, and presently steal the advantage of your interpretation from you. It was that which I was about to say: It was just my conceit: if I have not so expressed it, it is but for want of speech. Handy-dandy, what is this? Malice itself must be employed to correct this fierce rudeness. Hegesias his position, that a man must neither hate nor accuse, but instruct, hath some reason else where. But here, it is injustice to affist, and inhumanity to raise him up again, that hath nothing to do with it, and is thereby of lesser worth. I love to have them entangle and bemire themselves more than they are and if it be possible, to wade so deep into the gulf of error, that in the end they may recall and advise themselves. Sottishness and distraction of the senses, is no disease curable by a trick of advertisement. And we may fitly say of this reparation, as Cyrus answered one, who urged him to exhort his army in the nick when the battle should begin; That men are not made warlike and courageous in the field, by an excellent oration; no more than one becometh a ready cunning musician, by hearing a good song. They are prentisages that must be learned a forehand, by long and constant institution. This care we owe to ours, and this assiduity of correction and instruction: but to preach to him that first passeth by, or sway the ignorance or fondness of him we meet next, is a custom I cannot well away with. I seldom use it, even in such discourses as are made to me; and I rather quit all, then come to these far-fetched and magistral instructions. My humour is no more proper to speak, then to write, namely for beginners. But in things commonly spoken, or amongst others, how false and absurd soever I judge them, I never cross or gibe them, neither by word nor sign. Further, nothing doth more spite me in sottishness then that it pleaseth itself more, than any reason may justly be satisfied. It is ill luck, that wisdom forbids you to please and trust yourself, and sends you always away discontented and fearful: whereas wilfulness and rashness, fill their guests with gratulation and assurance. It is for the simplest and least able, to look at other men over their shoulders, ever returning from the combatful of glory and gladness. And most often also, this outrecuidance of speech and cheerfulness of countenance, giveth them the victory over the bystanders, who are commonly weak, and incapable to judge aright and discern true advantage. Obstinacy and earnestness in opinion, is the surest trial of folly and self conceit. Is there any thing so assured, so resolute, so disdainful, so contemplative, so serious and so grave, as the Ass; May we not commix with the title of conference and communication, the sharp and interrupted discourses, which mirth and familiarity introduceth amongst friends, pleasantly dallying and wittily jesting one with another? An exercise, to which my natural blithenesse makes me very apt. And if it be not so wire-drawn and serious, as this other exercise I now speak of, yet is it no less sharp or ingenious, no less profitable, as it seemed to Lycurgus. For my regard I bring more liberty than wit unto it, and have there in more luck than invention: but I am perfect in sufferance; for I endure the revenge, not only sharp but also indiscreet, without any alteration. And to any assault given me, if I have not presently or stoutly wherewith to work mine own amends, I ammuse not myself to follow that ward or point, with a tedious and selfe-wiled contestation, inclining to pertinacy: I let it pass, and hanging down mine ears, remit myself to a better hour to right myself. He is not a merchant that ever gaineth. Most men change both voice and countenance, where might faileth them: And by an importunate rage, instead of avenging themselves, they accuse their weakness and therewith bewray their impatience. In this mollitie we now and then harp upon some secret strings of our imperfections; which settled or considerate we cannot tonch without offence: and we profitably enter-aduertize ourselves of our defects. There are other handy-sportes in discreet, fond and sharp, just after the French manner; which I hate mortally: I have a tender and sensible skin: I have in my days seen two Princes of our royal blood brought to their graves for it. It is an ill seeming thing for men, in jest to hit, or in sport to strike on another. In other matters, when I shall judge of any body. I demand of him, how far or how much he is contented with himself how: how far his speath or his work pleaseth him. I will avoid these goodly excuses, I did it but in jest: Ablatum medijs opus est incudibus istud. This work away was brought, Ovid. Trist. l. 1. l. 1. ●leg. 6. 29. Half hammered, half wrought. I was not an hour there; I have not seen him since. Now I say, let us then leave these parts, give me one that may represent you whole and entire, by which it may please you to be measured by another. And then; what find you fairest in your own work? is it that or this part? the grace or the matter, the invention, the judgement, or the learning? For I ordinarily perceive, that a man misseth as much in judging of his own work, as of another's. Not only by the affection, he therein employeth; but because he hath not sufficiency to know, nor skill to distinguish it. The work of its own power and fortune, may second the workman, and transport him beyond his invention and knowledge. As for me, I judge not the worth of another's work more obscurely then of mine own: and place my Essays sometimes low, sometimes high, very unconstantly and doubtfully. There are divers books profitable by reason of their subjects of which the author reapeth no commendations at all: And good books, as also good works, which make the workman ashamed. I shall write the manner of our banquets, and the fashion of our garments; and I shall write it with an ill grace: I shall publish the Edicts of my time, and the letters of Princes that publicly pass from hand to hand: I shall make an abridgement of a good book (and every abridgement of a good book, is a fool abridged) which book shall come to be lost; and such like things. Posterity shall reap singular profit by such compositions: but I, what honour, except by my good fortune? Many famous books are of this condition. When I read Philip de Commines, (now divers years since) a right excellent author, I noted this speech in him, as a saying not vulgar: That a man should carefully take heed▪ how he do his master so great or much service, that he thereby be hindered from finding his due recompense for it. I should have commended the invention, but not him. After that I found it in Tacitus: Beneficia Corn. Tacit. Annal. l. 4. eo usque lata sunt, dum videntur exolui posse, ubi multum antevenere progratia odium redditur. Benefits are so long welcome, as we think they may be requited, but when they much exceed all power of recompense, hate is returned for thanks and good will. And Seneca very stoutly. Nam qui putat esse turpe non reddere, non vult esse cui reddat. For he that thinks it a shame not to S●n. epist. 81. f. Cicero. requite, could wish, he were not whom he should requite. Q. Cicero with a loser bias: Qui se non putat satisfacere, amicus esse nullo modo potest. He that thinks he doth not satisfy, can by no means be a friend. The subject according as it is, may make a man be judged learned, wise and memorious: but to judge in him the parts most his own and best worthy, together with the force and beauty of his mind; 'tis very requisite we know first what is his own, and what not: and in what is not his own, what we are beholding to him for, in consideration of his choice, disposition, ornament, and language he hath thereunto furnished. What if he have borrowed the matter and impaired the form? as many times it cometh to pass. We others that have little practice with books, are troubled with this; that when we meet with any rare or acquaint invention in a new Poet, or forcible argument in a Preacher, we dare not yet commend them, until we have taken instruction of some wise man, whether that part be their own or another bodies. And until then I ever stand upon mine own guard. I come lately from reading over, (and that without any intermission) the story of Tacitus (a matter not usual with me; it is now twenty years, I never spent one whole hour together upon a book) and I have now done it, at the instant request of a gentleman, whom France holdeth in high esteem; as well for his own worth and valour, as for a constant form of sufficiency and goodness, apparently seen in diverse brethren of his. I know no author, that in a public register entermixeth so many considerations of manners, and particular inclinations. And I deem clean contrary, to what he thinketh: who being especially to follow the lives of the Emperors of his time, so diverse and extreme in all manner of form, so many notable and great actions, which, namely their cruelty produced in their subjects: he had a more powerful and attractive matter, to discourse and relate, then if he had been to speak or treat of battles and universal agitations. So that I often find him barren, slightly running-over those glorious deaths, as if he feared to attediate and molest us with their multitude and continuance. This form of history is much more profitable: Public innovations, depend more on the conduct of fortune: private on ours. It is rather a judgement, than a deduction of an history: therein are more precepts, than narrations: It is not a book to read, but a volume to study and to learn: It is so fraught with sentences, that right or wrong they are huddled up: It is a seminary of mortal, and a magazine of politic discourses, for the provision and ornament of those, that possess some place in the managing of the world. He ever pleadeth with solid and forcible reasons; after a sharp and witty fashion: following affected and laboured style of his age: They so much loved to raise and puff themselves up, that where they found neither sharpness nor subtlety in things, they would borrow it of words. He draweth somewhat near to Senecas' writing. I deem Tacitus more sinnowy, Seneca more sharp. His service is more proper to a crazed troubled state, as is ours at this present: you would often say, he pourtrayeth and toucheth us to the quick. Such as doubt of his faith, do many fest accuse themselves to hate him for somewhat else. His opinions be sound, and enclosing to the better side of the Roman affairs. I am nevertheless something grieved, that he hath more bitterly judged of Pompey, then honest men's opinions, who lived and conversed with him, do well allow-off: to have esteemed him altogether equal to Marius and Silla, saving that he was more close and secret. His intention and canvasing for the government of affairs, hath not been exempted from ambition, nor cleared from revenge: and his own friends have feared, that had he gotten the victory, it would have transported him beyond the limits of reason; but not unto an unbridled and raging measure. There is nothing in his life that hath threatened us with so many fest a cruelty, and express tyranny. Yet must not the suspicion be counterpoised to the evidence: So do not I believe him. That his narrations are natural and right, might happily be argued by this: That they do not always exactly apply themselves to the conclusions of his judgements; which he pursueth according to the course he hath taken, often beyond the matter he showeth us; which he hath dained to stoop unto with one only glance. He needeth no excuse to have approved the religion of his times, according to the laws which commanded him, and been ignorant of the true and perfect worship of God. That's his ill fortune, not his defect. I have principally considered his judgement, whereof I am not every where thoroughly resolved. As namely these words contained in the letter, which Tiberius being sick and aged, sent to the Senate. What shall I write to you my masters, or how shall I write to you, or what shall I not write to you in these times? May the Gods and Goddesses lose me worse, than I daily feel myself to perish, if I can tell. I cannot perceive why he should so certainly apply them unto a stinging remorse, tormentiug the conscience of Tiberius: At least when myself was in the same plight, I saw it not. That hath likewise seemed somewhat demisse and base unto me, that having said, how he had exercised a certain honourable magistracy in Rome, he goeth about to excuse himself, that it is not for ostentation, he spoke it: This on trick, namely in a mind of his quality, seemeth but base and course unto me: For, not to dare speak roundly of himself, accuseth some want of courage: A constant, resolute and high judgement, and which judgeth sound and surely, every hand while useth his own examples, as well as of any strange thing; and witnesseth as freely of himself as of a third person: A man must overgo these populare reasons of civility, in favour of truth and liberty. I dare not only speak of myself: but speak alone of myself. I straggle when I write of any other matter, and digress from my subject. I do not so discreetly love myself, and am so tie and commixed to myself, as that I can not distinguish and consider myself a part: as a neighbour; as a tree. it is an equal error, either not to see how far a man's worth stretcheth, or to say more of it than one seeth good cause. We owe more love to God, then to ourselves, and know him less, and yet we talk our fill of him. If his writings relate any thing of his conditions: he was a notable man, upright and courageous; not with a superstitious virtue, but Philosophical and generous: He may be found over-hardy in his testimonies: As where he holdeth, that a soldier carrying a burden of wood, his hands were so stiffly benumbed with cold, that they stuck to his wood, and remained so fast unto it, that as dead flesh they were divided from his arms. In such cases I am wont to yield unto the authority of so great testimonies. Where he also saith, that Vespasian by the favour of the God Serapis, healed in the ●itie of Alexandria a blind woman, with the rubbing and anointing her eyes with fasting spertle: and some other miracles, which I remember not well now: he doth it by the example and devoir of all good historians. They keep a register of important events: among public accidents, are also populare reports and vulgar opinions. It is their part to relate common conceits, but not to sway them. This part belongeth to Divines and Philosophers, directors of consciences. Therefore that companion of his, and as great a man as he, said most wisely: Equidem plura transcrib● quam credo: Nam nec affirmare sustineo, de quibus dubito, nec subducere quae accepi: I write out more than I believe: for neither can I bide to affirm what I doubt of, nor to withdraw what I have heard: And that other: Haec neque affirmare neque refellere operae precium est: fama rerum standum est. It is not worth the talk, or to avouch, or to refute these things; we must stand to report. And writing in an age, wherein the belief of prodigies began to decline, he saith, he would notwithstanding not ommit to insert in his Annals, and give footing to a thing received and allowed of so many honest men, and with so great reverence by antiquity. It is very well said: That they yield us the history, more according as they receive, then according as they esteem it. I who am king of the matter I treat of, and am not to give account of it to any creature living, do nevertheless not altogether believe myself for it: I often hazard upon certain outslips of my mind, for which I destruct myself; and certain verbal wilie-beguilies, whereat I shake mine ears: but I let them run at hab or nab; I see some honour themselves with such like things: 'tis not for me alone to judge of them. I present myself standing and lying, before and behind, on the right and left side, and in all by natural motions. Spirits alike in force, are not ever alike in application and taste. Lo here what my memory doth in gross, and yet very uncertainly present unto me of it. In brief, all judgements are weak, demisse and imperfect. The ninth Chapter. Of Vanity. THere is peradventure no vanity more manifest, then so vainly to write of it. What Divinity hath so divinely expressed thereof unto us, aught of all men of understanding to be diligently and continually meditated upon. Who seeth not, that I have entered so large a field, and undertaken so high a pitch, wherein so long as there is either Ink or Paper in the world, I may uncessantly wander and fly without encumbrance? I can keep no register of my life by my actions: fortune placeth them too jowe: I hold them of my fantasies. Yet have I seen a gentleman, who never communicated his life, but by the operations of his belly; you might have seen in his house, set out for a show, a row of basins for seven or eight days: It was all his study; it was all his talk: All other discourses were unsavoury to him. These are somewhat more civil, the excrements of an old spirit, sometimes hard, sometimes laxative; but ever indigested. And when shall I come unto an end of representing a continual agitation or uncessant alteration of my thoughts, what subject soever they happen upon; since Diomedes filled six thousand books only with the subject of Grammar? What is idle babbling like to produce, since the faltering and liberty of the tongue hath stuffed the world with so horrible a multitude of volumes? So many words only for words. Oh Pythagoras, why didst thou not conjure this tempest? One Galba of former ages, being accused for living idly; answered, that all men ought to give an account of their actions, but not of their abiding. He was deceived; for justice hath also knowledge and animadversion over such as gather stubble (as the common saying is) or look about for gape▪ seed. But there should be some correction appointed by the laws, against foolish and unprofitable writers, as there is against vagabonds and loiterers: so should both myself and a hundred others of our people be banished. It is no mockery: Scribbling seemeth to be a Symthome or passion of an irregular and licentious age. When writ we ever so much as we have done since our intestine troubles? or when filled the Romans so many volumes, as in the times of their ruin? Besides that, the refining of wits in a common wealth, doth seldom make them the wiser: this idle working proceedeth of this that all men do over▪ slowly give themselves to the office of their function, and are easily withdraw from it. The corruption of the times we live in, is wrought by the particular contribution of every one of us: some confer treason unto it, some injustice, other some irreligion, tyranny, avarice and cruelty; according as they are more or less powerful: the weaker sort, whereof I am one impart foolishness, vanity and idleness unto it. It seemeth to be the season of vain things; when the domageable press us. In a time, where to do evil is common: to do nothing profitable, is in a manner commendable. One thing comforts me, that I shall be of the last, that shall be attached: whilst they shall provide for the worse sort and the most hurtful, I shall have leisure to amend myself: For, me thinks it would be against reason busily to insist and pursue petty inconveniences, when great ones infect us. And the Physician Philotimus, to one that offered him his finger to dress, by whose face, look and breath he apparently perceived, that he had an imposthume in his loonges; My friend (quoth he) It is now no fit time to busy yourself about your nails. Yet concerning this purpose, I saw not many years since a friend of mine, whose name and memory (for diverse respects,) I hold in singular account, who in the midst of our troublous mischiefs: when, no more then at this time, neither law, nor justice, nor magistrate was executed or did his office, published certain silly reformations, concerning the excess of apparel gluttony and diet, and abuses committed among pettifogging lawyers. They be ammusing wherewith a people in a desperate taking is fed, that so men may say they are not clean forgotten. Even so do these others, who mainly apply themselves to forbid certain manners of speech, dances and vain sports, unto a people wholly given over to all licentiousness and execrable vices. It is then no convenient time for a man to wash and netifie himself when he is assailed, by a violent fever. It only belongs to Spartans, to trick, to comb and wash themselves at what time they are ready to cast themselves into some extreme hazard of life. As for me, I am subject to this ill custom, that if but a pump sit not handsomely upon my foot, I shall also neglect my shirt and my cloak: for I disdain to correct myself by halses: when I am in bad estate, I flesh myself on evil and abandon myself through despair, and run to downfall, and (as the saying is) cast the haste after the hatchet. I grow obstinate in impairing; and esteem myself no more worthy of my care, either all well or all evil. It is a favour to me, that the desolation of our state doth suitably meet with the desolation of my age: I rather endure that my evils should thereby be surcharged, then if my goods had thereby been troubled. The words I utter against misfortune, are words of spite. My courage instead of yielding, doth grow more obstinate; and contrary to others. I find myself more given to devotion, in prosperous then adverse fortune: according to Xenophons' rule, if not according to his reason. And I rather look on heaven with a cheerful eye, to thank it, then to beg any thing. I am more careful to increase my health when it smiles upon me, then to recover it when I have lost it. Prosperities are to me as discipline and instruction, as adversities and crosses are to others. As if good fortune were incompatible with a good conscience, men never become honest but by adverse and cross chances. Good fortune is to me a singular motive unto moderation, and forcible spur unto modesty. Prayers win me, menaces reject me, savours relent me, fear imperuerseth me. Amongst human conditions, this one is very common, that we are rather pleased with strange things then with our own: we love changes, affect alterations, and like innovations. Ipsa dies ideo nos grato perluit haus●u, Quod permutatis hora recurrit equis. Time's therefore us refresh with welcome air, Because their hours on changed horse do repair. And my share is therein. Such as follow the other extremity, only to be well pleased with and in themselves; and selfe-conceitedly to over▪ esteem what they possess above others; and acknowledge no form fairer, then that they see; if they be not more advised than we, they are indeed more happy. I envy not their wisdom, but grudge their good fortune: This greedy humour of new and unquenchable desire of unknown things, doth much increase and nourish in me a desire to travel: but divers other circumstances confer unto it. I am well pleased to neglect and shake▪ of the government of mine own household. It is some pleasure to command, were it but a molehill, and a delight to be obeyed. But it is a pleasure over-uniforme and languishing. Besides that it is ever necessarily intermixed with troublous cares, and hart-wearing thoughts. Sometimes the indigence and oppression of your own people; sometimes the contentions and quarrels of your neighbours, and othertimes their insulting and usurpation over you, doth vex, doth trouble and afflict you, Aut verberatae grandine vine●, H●r. ●ar. l. 3. ●d. 1. 29. Fundusque mendax, arbore nunc aquas Culpante, nunc torrentia agros Sydera, nunc hyemes iniquas. Or Vineyards beat and wet with hail and rain, Or grounds defrauding hope, while trees complain; Sometime of waters, sometime of those stars, That scorch the fields, sometime of winter's wars. And that God will hardly once in half a year send you a season, that shall thoroughly please your Bailie, and content your Receiver: and that if it be good for your vines, it be not hurtful for your meadows. Aut nimijs torret feruoribus aetherius Sol, Aut subiti perimunt imbres, gelidaeque pruinae, Lucret. l. 5▪ 215. Flabràque ventorum violento turbine vexent. Or with excessive heat heavens Sun doth toast, Or sudden storms do kill, and chilling frost, Or violent whirlwind blasts do vex the coast. As that new and well-shapen shoe of that man of former ages, which hurts and wrings your foot: and that a stranger knows not what it costs you, and what you contribute to maintain the show of that order, which is seen in your household: and which peradventure you purchase at too high a rate. It was very late before I betook myself to husbandry. Those whom nature caused to be borne before me, have long time rid me of that careful burden: I had already taken another habit, more suitable to my complexion. Nevertheless by that I have observed therein, I find it to be rather a troublesome, than a hard occupation. Whosoever is capable of any other thing, may easily discharge that. If I would seek to grow rich; that way would seem overlong and tedious to me: I would then have served our kings; a trade more beneficial than all others; since I pretend but to get the reputation, that as I have gotten nothing, so have I not wasted any thing; suitable to the rest of my life; as unfit to affect any good, as improper to work any evil of consequence: and that I only seek to wear out my life, I may (God be thanked) do it without any great attention: if the worst come to pass, before poverty assail you, seek by prevention to cut of your charges, and by husbanding your expenses keep afore hand with it; that is it I trust unto, and hope to reform myself before it come near or enforce me to it. As for other matters, I have forestalled many degrees and established sundry ways in my mind, to live and rub out with less than I have. I say to live with contentment. Non aestimatione Cic. Parad. census, verum victu atque cultu, terminatur pecuniae modus. The measure of money is limited not by the estimate of wealth or place, but by the manner of living and other furniture. My very need doth not so precisely possess my whole estate, but that without touching to the quick or impairing the main, fortune shall find something to play upon, or take hold of. My very presence as ignorant and grim as it is, affordeth much help to my household affairs: I apply myself thereunto but somewhat dispightfully: considering the manner of my house, which is, that severally to burn my candle at one end, the other is thereby nothing spared. Travels do not much hurt me, were it not for the charges▪ which are exceeding great and beyond my ability: having ever been accustomed to journey not only with necessary, but also decent equipage: and that's the reason I make but short iorneiss and travel not to often: wherein I employ but the scum and what I can well spare, temporizing and differing, according as it cometh more or less. I will not have the pleasure of my wandering to corrupt the delight of my retiring. contrarywise my intent is, that they nourish and favour one another. Fortune hath steaded me in this; that since my chiefest profession in this life, was to live delicately and quietly, and rather negligently then seriously, it hath deprived me of need to hoard up riches, to provide for the multitude of my heirs. For one, if that be not sufficient for him, where with I have lived so plenteously, at his own peril be it. His indiscretion shall not deserve, that I wish him more. And every man (according to the example of Photion) provideth sufficiently for his children, that provideth they be not unlike to him. I should by no means be of Crates his mind, or commend his proceeding. He left his money with a banker upon this condition: That if his children were fools he should deliver it them: but proving wise and able to shift for themselves, he should distribute the same amongst the greatest fools. As if fools being least capable to make shift without it, were more capable to use riches. So it is, that the hurt▪ proceeding from my absence, doth not (in mine opinion) deserve, so long as I shall have means to bear it, I should refuse to accept the occasions that offer themselves, to distract me from this toilsome assistance. There is ever some piece out of square. Sometimes the business of one house, and other times the affairs of another, do hurry you. You pry too near into all things: herein, as well as else where, your perspicuity doth harm you. I steal from such occasions as may move me to anger; and remove from the knowledge of things, that thrive not: yet can I not so use the matter, but still I stumble (being at home) upon some inconvenience, which displeaseth me. And slight knaveries, that are most hidden from me are those I am best acquainted with Some there are, which to avoid a further mischief, a man must help to conceals himself: vain prickings (vain sometimes) but yet ever prickings. The least and slightest hindrances, are the sharpest. And as the smallest letters hurt our eyes most, so the least affairs grieve us most: A multitude of slender evils offendeth more, than the violence of one alone, how great soever. Even as ordinary thorns being small and sharp prick us more sharply and sans threatening, if on a sudden we hit upon them. I am no Philosopher: Evils oppress me according as they weigh; and weigh according to their form, as well as according to the matter; and often more. I have more insight in them, than the vulgar sort; and so have I more patience. To conclude, if they hurt me not, they lie heavy upon me. Life is a tender thing, and easy to be distempered. Since I began to grow towards peevish age, andby consequence toward frowardness, nemo enim resisti● S●●. ●p. 1. 13▪ f. sibi eum ceperit impelli; For no man stays himself when he is set on going. What ever fond cause hath brought me to it; I provoke the humour that way: which afterward by his own motion is sos●red and exasperated, atracting and heaping up one matter upon another, to feed itself withal. Stillici●i● casus lapidem cavat: By often falling on, Even water breaks a stone. These ordinary distilling drops consume and ulcerate me. Ordinary inconveniences are never light. They are continual and irreparable, if they continually and inseperatly arise from the members of husbandry. When I consider my affairs a far off, and in gross, I find, be it because I have no exact memory of them, that hitherto they have thrived beyond my reasons and expectation. Me thinks I draw more from them, than there is in them: then good success betrayeth me. But am I waded into the business? See I all these parcels march? Tum vero in curas animum deducimus omnes. Virg. Aen. l. 5. 720. Then we our mind divide, To cares on every side. A thousand things therein give me cause to desire and fear. Wholly to forsake them is very easy unto me: without toiling and vexation altogether to apply myself unto them; is most hard. It is a pity full thing, to be in a place, where whatsoever you see, doth set you a work and concern you. And me thinks, I enjoy more blithely and taste more choicely the pleasures of a stranger house, then of mine own: and both my mind and taste run more freely and purely on them. Diogenes answered according to my humour when being demanded what kind of Wine he liked best: Another man's, said he. My father delighted to build at Montaigne▪ where he was borne: and in all this policy of domestik affairs, I love to make use of his examples and rules; unto which I will as much as possibly I can tie my successors. Could I do better for him, I would perform it. I glory his will is at this day practised by me, and doth yet work in me. God forbid I should ever suffer any image of life to perish under my hands, that I may yield unto so good and so kind a father. If I have undertaken to finish any old piece of wall, or repair any building either imperfect or decayed: it hath certainly been, because I had rather a respect to his intention, than a regard to my contentment. And I blame my negligence or lithernesse, that I have not continued to perfect the foundations he had laid, or beginnings he had left in his house: by so much the more, because I am in great likelihood to be the last possessor of it, namely of my race, and set the last hand unto it. For, concerning my particular application, neither the pleasure of building, which is said to be so bewitching, nor hunting, nor hawking, nor gardens, nor such other delights of a retired life, can much embusie or greatly ammuse me. It is a thing for which I hate myself, as of all other opinions, that are incommodious to me. I care not so much to have them vigorous and learned, as I labour to have them easy and commodious unto life. They are indeed sufficiently true and sound, if they be profitable and pleasing. Those, who hearing me relate mine own insufficiency in matters pertaining to husbandry or thrift, are still whispering in mine ears, that it is but a kind of disdain, and that I neglect to know the implements or tools belonging to husbandry or tillage, their seasons and orders; how my wines are made, how they graft; and understand or know the names and forms of herbs, of simples, of fruits, and what belongs to the dressing of meats wherewith I live and whereon I feed; the names and prizes of such stuffs I cloth myself withal, only because I do more seriously take to heart some higher knowledge; bring me in a manner to death's door. That is mere sottishness; and rather brutishness than glory: I would rather be a cunning horseman, than a good Logician. Quin tu aliquid saltem potius quorum indiget usus, Virg. buc. ecls. 2. 71. Viminibus mollique paras detexere iunco? Why rather with soft wings make you not speed, To worke-up something, whereof there is need? We hinder our thoughts from the general and main point, and from the causes and universal conducts; which are very well directed without us, and omit our own business; and Michael, who concerns us nearer than man. Now I most commonly stay at home, but I would please myself better there, than any where else. Sit meaesedes utinam senectae, Sit modus lasso maris, & viarum, Hor. car. l. 2. od. 6. 6. — Militiaeque. Some repair and rest to mine old age I crave, journeying, sailing, with a weary warring, O let an end have. I wot not whether I shall come to an end of it. I would that in am of some other part of his succession, my father had resigned me that passionate love and dear affection, which in his aged years he bore unto his household husbandry. He was very fortunate, in conforming his desires unto his fortune, and knew how to be pleased with what he had. Politic Philosophy may how it list accuse the baseness and blame the sterility of my occupation, if as he did, I may but once find the taste of it. I am of this opinion, that the honourablest vacation, is to serve the Commonwealth, and be profitable to many. Fructus enim ingeni● & virtutis, omnisque praestantiae, Cicer. Amic. tum maximus accipitur, quum in proximum quemque confertur. For than is most fruit reaped, both of our wit and virtue, and all other excellency, when it is bestowed upon our neighbours. As for me, I depart from it: partly for conscience sake; (for whence I discern the wait, concerning such vacations, I also discover the slender means I have to supply them withal: And Plato a master workman in all politic government, omitted not to abstain from them) partly for lithernesse. I am well pleased to enjoy the world, without troubling or pressing myself with it; to live a life, only excusable: and which may neither be burdensome to me, nor to any other. Never did man go more plainly and carelessly to work in the care and government of a third man, than I would, had I a ground to work upon. One of my wishes at this instant, should be to find a son in law, that could handsomely allure and discreetly beguile my old years, and lull them asleep; into whose hands I might depose, and in all sovereignty resign the conduct and managing of my goods; that he might dispose of them as I do, and gain upon them what I gain: always provided he would but carry a truly-thankfull and friendly mind. But what? we live in a world, where the loyalty of our own children is not known. Whosoever hath the charge of my purse when I travel, hath it freely and without control: as well might he deceive me in keeping of reckonings. And if he be not a Devil, I bind him to deal well and honestly, by my careless confidence. Multi fallere docuerunt, dum timent falli, & allies ius peccands suspicando fecerunt. Many have taught others to deceive, while themselves fear to be deceived, and have given them just cause to offend, by suspecting them unjustly. The most ordinary assurance I take of my people, is a kind of disacknowledge or neglect: I never presume vices, but after I have seen them: and trust more young men, such as I imagine to be least debaushed and corrupted by ill examples. I had rather hear at two months end, that I have spent four hundred crowns, than every night when I should go to my quiet bed, have mine ears tired and my mind vexed with three, five, or seven. Yet in this kind of stealing, have I had as little stolen from me as any other: True it is, I lend a helping hand to ignorance. I wittingly entertain a kind of troubled and uncertain knowledge of my money: until it come to a certain measure I am content to doubt of it. It is not amiss if you allow your boy or servant some small scope for his disloyalty and indiscretion. If in gross we have sufficiently left to bring our matters to pass, this excess of fortunes-liberalitie, let us somewhat more suffer it to stand to her mercy: It is the gleaners fee. After all, I esteem not so much my people's fidelity, as I disesteem their injury. Oh base and absurd study, for a man to study his money, and please himself with handling and counting the same: for that's the way whereby covetousness maketh her approaches. Since eighteen years, that I have had the full disposing of my goods in mine own hands, I could never yet be brought to overlook, neither titles nor books, no not so much as the principal affairs, that should necessarily pass thorough my knowledge and care. It is no Philosophical contempt, to neglect worldly and transitory things: my taste is not so exquisitely nice; for I value them according to their worth at least: but truly it is an inexcusable slothfulness and childish negligence. What would I not rather do, then read a contract? And more willingly, as a slave to my business, with cark to overlook, and care to survey a company of old-dustie books, and plod upon musty writings? and which is worse, other men's, as so many do daily for money? I have nothing so dear as care and pain: and I only endeavour to become careless and reckless. I had, in mine opinion, been fitter (if it might be) to live by others fortune, without bounden duty or bondage. And yet I wot not (the matter being thoroughly sifted) whether according to my humour and fortune, what I must endure with my affairs, and pocket up at my servants and familiars hands, hath not more abjection, importunity and sharpness, than the following of another man should have, better borne then myself, and who should guide me somewhat at mine ease. Servitus obedientia est fra●ti animi & abi●cti, arbitrio carentis suo: Service is an obedience of an abject broken C●c. Parad. 5. heart, that cannot dispose of itself. Crates did worse, who voluntarily cast himself into the liberties of poverty, only to rid himself of the inconveniences, indignities and cares of his house. Which I would not do: I hate poverty as much as grief; yet could I find in my heart to change this manner of life, with another less glorious and not so troublesome. Being absent, I discharge myself of all such careful thoughts, and should less feel the ruinous downfall of a Town, then being present, the fall of a Tile. Alone my mind is easily freed, but in company, it endureth as much as a Ploughman's. My horse uncurbed, his reins misplaced, or a stirrup or a strap hitting against my leg, will keep me in a check a whole day long. I rouse my courage sufficiently against inconvenience; mine eyes I cannot. Sensus ô superi sensus! At home I am ever answerable for whatsoever is amiss. Few masters (I speak of mean condition, as mine is; whereof if any be, they are the more happy) can so fully rely upon a second, but still a good part of the burden shall lie upon them. That doth peradventure take something from my fashion, in entertaining of guests or new comers; and happily I have been able to stay some, more by my kitchen, then by my behaviour or grace: as do the peevish and fantastical; and I greatly diminish the pleasure I should take in my house, by the visitations and meetings of my friends. No countenance is so foolish, or so ill beseeming a gentleman in his own house, as to see him vexed or troubled about his household or domestic affairs; to see him whisper one of his servants in the ear, and threaten another with his looks. It should insensibly glide-on, and represent an ordinary course. And I utterly dislike, that a man should entertain h●● guests with either excusing, or boasting of the entertainment he affordeth them. I love order and cleanliness, — & cantharus & lanx, H●●. l. 1. epist. 5. 23. Ostendun● mihime. My dish, my drinking kanne, Show me what kind of man. well nigh as much as plenty: In mine own house I exactly look unto necessity, little unto state, and less unto ornament. If your neighbour's servant be fight with his companion, if a dish be overthrown, you but laugh at it: you sleep quietly whilst Sir such a one is busy casting up of accounts, and overseeing his stock with his steward, and all about your provision for to morrow. I speak according to mine opinion: omitting not in general to think, how pleasing an ammusement it is to certain natures, to see a quiet and prosperous household, directed by a formal and guided by a regular order. But not intending to fasten mine own errors and inconveniences to the matter: Nor to gainsay Plato, who deemeth that the happiest occupation any man can follow, is, to apply himself to his own private business, without injustice. When I journey, I have nothing to care for but myself, and how my money is laid out: which is disposed with one only precept. Overmany parts are required in hoarding and gathering of goods: I have no skill in it. In spending, I have some knowledge, and how to give my expenses day; which indeed is its principal use. But I attend it over-ambitiously, which makes it both unequal and deformed: and besides that immoderate in one and other visage. If it appear and make a good show, if it serve the turn, I indiscreetly go after it; and as indiscreetly restrain myself, if it shine or smile not upon me. Whatsoever it be, either Art or nature, that imprints this condition of life into us, by relation to others, it doth us much more hurt then good. In going about to frame appearances according to the common opinion, we defraud ourselves of our owneprofits. We care not so much, what our state, or how our being is, in us and in effect, as we do how and what it is, in the public knowledge of others. Even the goods of the mind, and wisdom itself, seem fruitless unto us, if only enjoyed by us: except it be set forth to the open view and approbation of strangers. There are some, whose gold runs by streams in places under ground, and that imperceptible: others extend the same in plates and leaves: So that to some, pence are worth crowns, to others the contrary: the world judging the employment and value, according to the outward show. All overnice care and curious heed about riches, hath a touch or a taste of avarice. Even their dispending and over regular and artificial liberalities are not worth a wary heede-taking, and countervail not a painful diligence. Who so will make his expense even and just, makes it strict and forced. Either close-keeping or employing of money, are in themselves things indifferent; and admit no colour of good or evil, but according to the application of our will. The other cause that draws me to these journeys or vagaries, is the dissent or disparity in the present manners of our state: I could easily comfort myself with this corruption, in regard of the public interest; — peioraque s●cula f●rri, juven. sat. 13. 28. Temporibus, quorum sceleri non invenit ipsa Nomen, & à nullo posuit natura met allo. Times worse than times of Iron, for whose bad frame And wickedness even nature finds no name, Nor hath from any metal set the same. But not for mine own: I am in particular over-pressed by it. Forround about where I dwell, we are, by the overlong licentiousness of our intestine civil wars, almost grown old, in so licentious and riotous a form of state, Quip ubi fas versum atque nefas; Virg. Georg. l. 1. 505. As where of good and bad, There is no difference had. That in good truth, it were a wonder, if it should continue and maintain itself. Armati terram exercent, semperque recentes Virg. Aen. l. 9 612. Convectare invat praedas, & vivere rapto. They armed plow the land, and joy to drive, And draw new booties, and on rapine live. To conclude, I see by our example, that the society of men doth hold and is sewed together, at what rate soever it be: where ever they be placed, in moving and closing, they are ranged and stowed together; as uneven and rugged bodies, that orderless are huddled in some close place, of themselves find the way to be united and joined together one with another: and many times better, than Art could have disposed them. King Philip assembled a rabble of the most lewd, reprobate and incorrigible men he could find out, all which he placed in a City, which of purpose he had caused to be built for them, of whom it bore the name. I imagine, that even of their vices, they erected a politic contexture amongst themselves, and a commodious and just society. I see not one action, or three, or a hundred, but even diverse manners, admitted and commonly used: so extravagant (namely in disloyalty) and so barbarous in inhumanity, which in my conceit, are the worst and most execrable kind of vices, that I have not the heart so much as to conceive them without horror: All which I in a manner admire as much as I detest. The exercise of these egregious villainies, beareth a brand of vigour and hardiness of mind, as much as of error and irregular confusion. Necessity composeth, and assembleth men together. This casual combining is afterward framed into laws. For, there have been some as barbarously-savage, as human opinion could possible produce, which notwithstanding have kept their bodies in as good health and state, in long life, as those of Plato or Aristotle could do. And to say true, all these descriptions of policy, feigned by Art and supposition, are found ridiculous and foolish, to be put in practice. These great and long-continuing altercations, about the best form of society, and most commodious rules to unite us together, are altercations only proper for the exercise of our wit: As in arts, diverse subjects are found, that have no essence but in agitation and disputing, without which they have no life at all. Such an Idea of policy, or picture of government, were to be established in a new world; but we take a world already made and form to certain customs: we engender not the same as Pyrrha, nor beget it as Cadmus. By what means soever we have the privilege to re-erect and range the same anew, we can very hardly wrest it from the accustomed habit and fold it hath taken, except we break all. Solon being demanded, whether he had established the best laws he could for the Athenians: answered, yea of those they would have received: with such a shift doth Varre excuse himself; saying, that if he were newly to begin to write of religion, he would plainly tell what his belief were of it: But being already received, he will speak more of it according to custom, then to nature. Not to speak by opinion, but consonant to truth, the most excellent and best policy, for any nation to observe, is that under which it hath maintained itself. It's form and essential commodity doth much depend of custom. We are easily displeased with the present condition: yet do I hold that to wish the government of few, in a popular estate: or in a Monarchy, another kind of policy, it is a manifest vice and mere folly. Aim l' est at tel que tu le uois estre, P●●rac. S'il est royal, aim laroyautè, S'il est de peu, ou bien communantè, Aim l' aussi, car Dieu t'y a faict naistre. Love thou the state, as thou seest it to be, If it be Regal, love the royal race, If of a few, or Commonweal, embrace It as it is; borne there God pointed thee. So was the good Lord of Pibrac wont to speak of it, whom we have lately lost: a man of so acquaint and rare wit, of so sound judgement, and of so mild and affable behaviour. The untimely loss of whom, with that of the Lord of Foix, both fatally happening to us at one time, are surely losses of great consequence unto our crown. I wot not well, whether France, amongst all the men it hath left, is able to afford us two such other Gentlemen, as may either in sincerity and worth, or in sufficiency and judgement, for the counsel of our Kings, match these two Gascoynes. They were two minds diversely fair; and verily, if we respect the corrupted age wherein we live, both rare and gloriously-shining, every one in her form. But alas, what destiny had placed them on the Theatre of this age, so dissonant and different in proportion from our deplorable corruption, and so far from agreeing with our tumultuous storms? Nothing doth so nearly touch and so much overly an estate, as innovation: Only change doth give form to injustice, and scope to tyranny. If some one piece be out of square, it may be vnderpropt: one may oppose himself against that, which the alteration, incident, and corruption, natural to all things, doth not too much elonge and draw us from our beginnings and grounded principles: But to undertake to re-erect and found again so huge a mass, and change or remove the foundations of so vast a frame, belongeth only to them, who in stead of purging, deface; and in am of cleansing, scrape out: that will amend particular faults by an universal confusion, and cure diseases by death: Non tam commutandarum quam overtendarum rerum cupidi. Not so desiroús to have things altered, as overthrown. The world is fond unapt to cure itself: So impatient with that which vexeth or grieveth it, that it only aimeth to rid itself of it, never regarding at what rate. We see by a thousand examples, that it doth ordinarily cure itself at its own charges: To be freed from a present evil, is no perfect cure, except there be a general amendment of condition. The end of a skilful Chirurgeon, is not to mortify the bad flesh, it is but the beginning and addressing of his cure: he aimeth further, that is, to make the natural to grow again, and reduce the party to his due being and quality. Whoever proposeth only to remove what gnaweth him, shall be to seek: for good doth not necessarily succeed evil: another, yea a worse evil may succeed it. As it happened unto Caesar's murderers, who brought the commonwealth to so distressful a plunge, that they repented themselves they ever meddled with the same. The like hath since fortuned to diverse, yea in our days. The French that live in my times, know very well what to speak of such matters. All violent changes and great alterations, disorder, distemper and shake a state very much. He that should rightly respect a sound recovery or absolute cure, and before all other things thoroughly consult about it, might happily grow slaoke in the business, and beware how he set his hand unto it. Pacuvius Calavius corrected the vice of this manner of proceeding by a notable example. His fellow Citizens had mutined against their magistrates; He being a man of eminent authority in the City of Capua, found one day the means to shut up the Senate in the Guildhall or Palace, then calling the people together in the market place, told them; That the day was now come, wherein with full and unresisted liberty, they might take vengeance of the tyrants, that had so long and so many ways oppressed them, all which he had now at his mercy, alone and unarmed. His opinion was, that orderly by lots, they should be drawn out one after another: which done, they might particularly dispose of every one: and whatsoever should be decreed of them, should immediately be executed upon the place; provided they should therewithal presently advise and resolve to nominate and establish some honest and vndetected man, to supply the room of the condemned, lest their City should remain void of due officers. To which they granted, and heard no sooner the name of a Senator read, but a loud exclamation of a general discontent was raised against him: which Pacuvius perceiving, he requested silence, and thus bespoke them. My countrymen, I see very well, that man must be cut off, he is a pernicious and wicked member; but let us have another sound-good man in his place; and whom would you name for that purpose? This unexpected speech bred a distracted silence; each one finding himself to seek and much confounded in the choice. Yet one, who was the boldest-impudent amongst them, nominated one whom he thought fittest; who was no sooner heard, but a general consent of voices, louder than the first, followed, all refusing him: as one taxed with a hundred imperfections, lawful causes and just objections, utterly to reject him. These contradicting humours growing more violent and hot, every one following his private grudge or affection, there ensued a far greater confusion and hurly burly in drawing of the second and third Senator, and in naming and choosing their successors; about which they could never agree. As much disorder and more consusion about the election, as mutual consent and agreement about the demission and displacing. About which tumultuous trouble, when they had long and to no end laboured and wearied themselves, they began, some here, some there, to scatter and steal away from the assembly: every one with this resolution in his mind, that the oldest and best known evil, is ever more tolerable, than a fresh and unexperienced mischief. By seeing ourselves piteously tossed in continual agitation: for what have we not done? Eheu cicatricum & sceleris pudet, Hor. car. l. 1. od. 95. 33. Fratrumque: quid nos dur a refugimus Aetas? quid intactum nefasti Liquimus? unde manus iuventus Metu Deorum continuit? quibus Pepercit aris? Alas for shame of wickedness, and scars Of brother-country-men in civil wars. We of this hardened world, what do we shun? What have we execrable left undone? To set their hand whereto hath youth not dared For fear of Gods? what altars hath it spared? I am not very sudden in resolving or concluding. — ipsa si velit salus, Ter. Adel. act. 4. sc. 7. Servare prorsus non potest hanc familiam: This family if safety would Keep safe, I do not think it could. Yet are we not peradventure come unto our last period. The preservation of states, is a thing in all likelihood exceeding our understanding. A civil policy (as Plato saith) is a mighty and puissant matter, and of very hard and difficult dissolution; it often endureth against mortal and intestine diseases: yea against the injury of unjust laws, against tyranny, against the ignorance and debordement of Magistrates, and against the licentiousness and sedition of the people. In all our fortunes, we compare ourselves to that which is above us, and look toward those that are better. Let us measure ourselves by that which is beneath us, there is no creature so miserably wretched, but finds a thousand examples to comfort himself withal. It is our fault, that we more unwillingly behold what is above us, then willingly what is beneath us, And Solon said, that should a man heap up in one mass all evils together, there is none, that would not rather choose to carry back with him such evils as he already hath, then come to a lawful division with other men of that chaos of evils, and take his allotted share of them. Our Commonwealth is much crazed, and out of tune. Yet have diverse others been more dangerously sick, and have not died. The God's play at hand-ball with us, and toss us up and down on all hands. Enimverò Dij nos homines quasi pilas habent. Plaut. captain. Prel. The Gods perdie do reckon and racket us men as their tennis-balles. The destinies have fatally ordained the state of Rome, for an exemplar pattern of what they can do in this kind. It containeth in itself all forms and fortunes that concern a state: whatsoever order, trouble, good or bad fortune may in any sort effect in it. What man may justly despair of his condition, seeing the agitations, troubles, alterations, turmoils and motions, wherewith it was tossed to and fro, and which it endured? If the extension of rule, and far-spreading domination, be the perfect health of a state, of which opinion I am not in any wise (and Isocrates doth greatly please me, who instructeth Nicocles, not to envy those Princes, who have large dominations, but such as can well maintain and orderly preserve those that have been hereditarily escheated unto them) that of Rome was never so sound, as when it was most sick and distempered. The worst of its form, was to it the most fortunate. A man can hardly distinguish or know the image of any policy under the first Emperors: it was the most horrible and turbulent confusion that could be conceived, which notwithstanding it endured and therein continued; preserving, not a Monarchy bounded in her limits, but so many nations, so different, so distant, so evil affected, so confusedly commanded, and so unjustly conquered. — nec gentibus ullis Lucret. l. 1. 82. Commodat in populum terrae pelagique potentem, invidiam fortuna suam. Fortune doth to no other nation lend Envy, against that people force to bend, Which both by land and sea their force extend. All that shaketh doth not fall: The contexture of so vast a frame holds by more than one nail. It holds by its antiquity: as old buildings, which age hath robbed of foundation, without loam or mortar, and nevertheless live and subsist by their own weight, — nec iam validis radicibus haerens Ibid 138. Pondere tuta suo est. Though now to no strong root it stick so fast, Yet is it safe by selfe-waight, and will last. Moreover he goes not cunningly to work, that only surveys the flanks and dykes: to judge well of the strength of a place; he must heedily mark how, and view which way it may be approached, and in what state the assailant stand. Few vessels sink with their own weight, and without some extraordinary violence. Cast we our eyes about us, and in a general survey consider all the world; all is tottering; all is out of frame. Take a perfect view of all great states both in Christendom and where ever else we have knowledgeof, and in all places you shall find a most evident threatening of change and ruin: Et sua sunt illis incommoda, parque per omnes Tempestas. Their discommodities they know: One storm alike ore-all doth grow. Astrologers may sport themselves, with warning us, as they do of imminent alterations and succeeding revolutions: their divinations are present and palpable, we need not pry into the heavens to find them out. We are not only to draw comfort from this universal aggregation of evils and threats; but also some hope for the continuance of our state: forsomuch as naturally nothing falleth, where all things fall: a general disease is a particular health: Conformity is a quality enemy to dissolution. As for me, I nothing despair of it, and me thinks I already perceive some starting holes to save us by: Deus haec fortasse benigna Hor epod. 13. 10. Reducet in sedem vice. It may be, God with gracious intercourse Will re-establish these things in their course. Who knows, whether God hath determined it shall happen of them, as of bodies that are purged, and by long grievous sicknesses brought to a better and sounder state; which thoroughly purged diseases do afterward yield them a more entire and purely-perfect health, then that they took from them? That which grieveth me most, is, that coumpting the symptoms or affects of our evil, I see as many merely proceeding of nature, and such as the heavens send us, and which may properly be termed theirs, as of those that our own surfeit, or excess, or misse-diet, or human indiscretion confer upon us. The very Planets seem orderly to declare unto us, that we have continued long enough, yea and beyond our ordinary limits. This also grieves me, that the nearest evil threatening us, is not a distemper or alteration in the whole and solid mass, but a dissipation and divulsion of it: the extremest of our fears. And even in these fantastical humours or dote of mine, I fear the treason of my memory, least unwarily it have made me to register somethings twice. I hate to correct and agnize myself, and can never endure but grudgingly to review and repolish what once hath escaped my pen. I here set down nothing that is new or lately found out. They are vulgar imaginations; and which peradventure having been conceived a hundred times, I fear to have already enroled them. Repetition is ever tedious, were it in Homer: But irksome in things, that have but one superficial and transitory show. I am nothing pleased with inculcation or wresting-in of matters, be it in profitable things, as in Seneca. And the manner of his Stoic school displeaseth me, which is, about every matter, to repeat at large, and from the beginning to the end, such principles and presuppositions, as serve in general: and every hand-while to re-allege anew the common arguments, and universal reasons. My memory doth daily grow worse and worse, and is of late much impaired: Pocula lethaeos ut si duc●ntia somnos, Hor. Epod. 14: 3 — Arente fauce traxerim. As though with dry lips I had drunk that up, Which draws oblivions sleep in drowsy cup. I shall henceforward be feign (for hitherto thanks be to God, no capital fault hath happened) whereas others seek time and occasion, to premeditate what they have to say, that I avoid to prepare myself, for fear I should tie myself to some strict bond, on which I must depend. To be bound and tied doth somewhat distract me: namely when I am wholly to rely and depend on so weak an instrument, as is my memory. I never read this story, but I feel a certain proper and natural offence. Lyncestez being accused of a conspiracy against Alexander, the very same day, that according to custom, he was led forth in presence of all the army, to be heard in his own defence, had in his mind a premeditated oration, which he had studiously learned by rote, whereof, stammering and faltering, having uttered some words: And wrestling with his memory, and striving to run-it over again, he was suddenly charged by the soldiers that were about him and slain with pikes; as they who held him to be convicted. His amazement and silence, served them as a confession. For they supposed that having had so long leisure in prison to prepare himself, it was not (as they thought his memory failed him, but his guilty conscience bridled so his tongue and deprived him of his wont faculties. It was truly well spoken. The very place, the company and expectation astonieth a man, when he most aimeth at an ambition of well-speaking. What can a man do, when a mere oration shall bring his life into consequence? As for me, if I be tide unto a prescript kind of spenking, what binds me to it, doth also lose me from it, when I have committed and wholly assigned myself unto my memory; I so strongly depend on the same, that I overwhelm it: she faints under her own burden. So much as I refer myself unto her, so much am I divided from myself: until I make trial of my countenance. And I have sometimes been in pain, in concealing the bondage whereunto I was engaged: whereas my design, in speaking, to represent a main carelessness of accent and countenance, sudden and unpremeditated, or ca●ull motions as rising of present occasions; rather loving to say nothing of any worth, then make show I came provided to speak well: a thing above all unseemly, to men of my profession, and of over strict an obligation, to one that cannot hold much: Preparation gives more to hope, than it brings with it. A man doth often strip himself into his doublet, to leap shorter, than he did in his gown. Nihil est his, qui placere volunt, tam adversarium, quam expectati●. There is none so great an enemy, to them that would please, as expectation. It is written of Curio the Orator, that when he proposed the distribution of the parts of his oration, into three or four; or the number of his arguments and reasons, it was his ordinary custom, either to forget some one, or add one or two more unto it. I have ever shunned to fall into such an inconvenience: as one hating these selfepromises and prescriptions: Not only for the distrust of my memory; but also because this form draws over near unto an artist. Simplicior a militares decent. Plain words and manners become Martialists. Sufficeth, I have now made a vow unto myself, no more to undertake the charge, to speak in any place of respect: For, to speak in reading what one hath written: besides that it is most foolish and absurd, it is a matter of great disadvantage to such as by nature were interressed or might do any thing in the action. And wholly to rely or cast myself to the mercy of my present invention, much less: I have it by nature so dull and troubled, that it cannot in any wise supply me in sudden, and stead me in important necessities. May it please the gentle reader, to suffer this one part of Essay to run on, and this third strain or addition of the rest of my pictures pieces. I add, but I correct not: First, because he who hath hypothekised or engaged his labour to the world, I find appearance, that he hath no longer right in the same: let him, if he be able, speak better else where, and not corrupt the work he hath already madesale-off; Of such people, a man should buy nothing, but after they are dead: let them thoroughly think on it, before they produce the same. Who hastens them? My book is always one: except that according as the Printer goes about to renew it, that the buyers depart not altogether emptyhanded, I give myself law to add thereto (as it is but uncoherent chocky, or ill joined in-laid-worke) some supernumeral emblem. They are but over-waights, which disgrace not the first form, but give some particular price unto every one of the succeeding, by an ambitious petty subtlety. Whence notwith standing, it may easily happen, that some transposition of chronology is thereto commixed: my reports taking place according to their opportunity, and not ever according to their age. Secondly, forsomuch as in regard of myself, I fear to lose by the exchange: My understanding doth not always go forward, it sometimes goes also backward: I in a manner distrust mine own fantasies as much, though second or third as I do when they are the first; or present, as past. We many times correct ourselves as foolishly, as we tax others unadvisedly. I am grown aged by a number of years since my first publications, which were in a thousand five hundred and four score. But I doubt whether I be increased one inch in wisdom. Myself now, and myself anon, are indeed two; but when better; in good sooth I cannot tell. It were a goodly thing to be old, if we did only march towards amendment. It is the motion of a drunkard, stumbling, reeling, giddie-brained, formless; or of reeds, which the air doth causually wave to and fro, what way it bloweth. Antiochus in his youth, had stoutly and vehemently written in favour of the Academy; but being old he changed copy, and writ as violently against it: which of the two I should follow, should I not ever follow Antiochus? Having once established a doubt, to attempt to confirm the certainty of human opinions, were it not an establishing of a doubt, and not of the certainty? and promise, that had he had another age given him with assurance to live, he should ever have been in terms of new agitations; not so much better, as other and different? Public favour hath given me some more boldness, than I hoped for: but the thing I fear most, is to breed a glutting satiety. I would rather spur, then be weary. As a wiseman of my time hath done. Commendation is ever pleasing, from whom, from whence, or wherefore so ever it come: yet ought a man to be informed of the cause, if he will justly please and applaud himself therewith. Imperfections themselves have their means to be recommended. Vulgar and common estimation, is little happy if it come to encounter: And I am deceived, if in my days, the worst compositions and absurdest books have not gained the credit of popular breath. Verily I am much beholding to divers honest men, and I thank them, that vouchsafe to take my endeavours in good part. There is no place where the defects of the fashion do so much appear, as in a matter, that in itself hath nothing to recommend it. Good reader blame not me, for those that pass here, either by the fantazie or unwariness of others: for every hand, each workman, brings his own unto them. I neither meddle with orthography (and would only have them follow the ancient) nor with curious pointing: I have small experience in either. Where they altogether break the sense, I little trouble myself therewith; for at least they discharge me. But where they will wrest-in and substitute a false sense (as often they do) and wyre-draw me to their conceits, than they spoil me. Nevertheless, when the sentence is not strong or sinnowie according to my meaning, an honest man may reject it to be mine. He that shall know how little laborious I am and how framed after mine own fashion, will easily believe, I would rather indite anew, as many more other Essays, than subject myself to trace these over again, for this childish correction. I was saying erewhile, that being plunged in the deepest mine of this new kind of metal, I am not only deprived of great familiarity with men of different custom from mine; and other opinions, by which they hold together by a knot, commanding all other knots: but am not also without some hazard, amongst those, with whom all things are equally lawful: most of which cannot now adays impair their market toward our justice: whence the extreme degree of licentiousness proceedeth. Casting over all the particular circumstances that concern me, I find no one man of ours, to whom the inhibition of our laws costeth any thing, either in gain ceasing, or in loss appearing (as Lawyers say) more than unto myself. And some there be, that in choleric heat and humorous fury will crack and vaunt much, that will perform a great deal less than myself, if once we come to an equal balance. As a house at all times freely open, much frequented, of great haunt and officious in entertaining all sorts of people (for I could never be induced, to make an implement of war thereof: which I perceive much more willingly to be soughtout and flocked unto, where it is furthest from my neighbours) my house hath merited much popular affection: And it were a hard matter to gourmandize myself upon mine own dunghill: And I repute it a wonderful and exemplar strangeness, that having undergone so many stormie-wrackes, so diverse changes and tumultuous-neighbour agitations, it doth yet to this day continue free, and (as I may say) an undefiled virgin from shedding of blood, spoil or sacking. For, to say true, it was possible for a man of my disposition to escape from a constant and continual form, whatsoever it was. But the contrary invasions, hostile incursions, alternations and vicissitudes of fortune, round about me, have hitherto more exasperated, then mollified the humour of the country: and recharge me with dangers and invincible difficulties. I have escaped. But it greeveth me that it is rather by fortune: yea and by my discretion then by justice: And it vexeth me, to be without the protection of the laws and under any other safeguard, then theirs. As things now stand, I live more than half by the favour of others; which is a severe obligation. I would not be indebted for my safety, neither to the goodness, nor to the goodwill of other great men, which applaud themselves with my liberty and legality; nor to the facility of my predecessors or mine own manners: for, what if I were other than I am? If my demeanour, the liberty of my conversation, or happily alliance, bind my neighbours: It is a cruelty, that they should acquit themselves of it, in suffering me to live, and that they may say; we give him a free and and undisturbed continuation of divine service, in the chaple of his house, whilst all other Churches round about him are by us profaned and deserted; and we freely allow and pardon him the fruition of his goods and use of his life, as he maintaineth our wives, and in time of need keepeth our cattle. It is long since, that in my house, we have a share in Lycurgus the Athenians praise, who was the general stourier, depositary and guardian of his fellow-cittizens goods and purses. I am now of opinion, that a man must live by law and authority, and not by recompense or grace. How many gallant men have rather made choice to lose their life, then be indebted for the same? I shun to submit myself to any manner of obligation. But above all, to which binds me by duty of bonds of honour. I find nothing so dear, as what is given me: and that because my will remains engaged by a title of ingratitude: And I more willingly receive such offices, as are to be sold. A thing easy to be believed; for these I give nothing but money; but for those, I give myself. The bond that holds me by the law of honesty, seemeth to me much more urgent and forcible, then that of civil compulsion. I am more gently tie by a Notary, then by myself. Is it not reason, that my conscience be much more engaged to that, wherein she hath simply and only been trusted? Else, my faith oweth nothing; for she had nothing lent her. Let one help himself with the confidence or assurance he hath taken from me. I would much rather break the prison of a wall or of the laws, than the bond of my word. I am nicely scrupulous in keeping of my promises, nay almost superstitious; and in all subjects I commonly pass them uncertain and conditional. To such as are of no weighty consequence, I add force with the jealousy of my rule: she racks and chargeth me with her own interest. Yea, in such enterprises as are altogether mine own and free, if I speak the word, or name the point, me thinks I prescribe the same unto me: and that to give it to another's knowledge, it is to preordain it unto himself. Me seems I absolutely promise, when I speak. Thus I make but small brag of my propositions. The condemnation I make of myself, is more moving, forcible and severe, then that of the judges, who only take me by the countenance of common obligation: the constraint of my conscience is more rigorous and more strictly severe: I faintly follow those duties, to which I should be haled, if I did not go to them. Hoc ipsum it a justum est quod rectè fit, si voluntarium. This is so just, as it is well done, if it be voluntary. If the action have no glimpse of liberty, Cic. off. l. 1. it hath neither grace nor honour. Quod me ius cogit, vix voluntate impetrent. Ter. Ad. act. 3. sc. 4. What law enforceth me to do, By will they can scarce win me to. Where necessity draws me, I love to relent my will. Quia quicquid imperio cogitur, exigenti magis, quam praestanti acceptum refertur. For whatsoever is enforced by command, is more imputed to him that exacteth then in him that performeth. I know some, that follow this air, even unto injustice: They will rather give, then restore; sooner lend, then pay; and more sparingly do good to him, to whom they are bound to do it. I bend not that way, but am mainly against it. I love so much to disoblige and discharge myself, that I have sometimes esteemed as profit, the ingratitudes, the offences, and indignities I had received of those, to whom either by nature or accidents, I was by way of friendship somewhat beholding: taking the occasion of their fault for a quittance and discharge of my debt. Although I continue to pay them the apparent offices with common reason; I notwith standing find some sparing in doing that by justice, which I did by affection, and somewhat to ease myself with the attention and diligence of my inward will. Est prudentis sustinere ut cursum, sic impetum Cic. de. A●●●. benevolentiae. It is a wiseman's part to keep a hand as on the course, so on the career of his goodwill: Which where ever I apply myself, is in me too urgent and over-pressing: at least for a man that by no means would be enthronged. Which husbandry stands me in stead of some comfort, about the imperfections of those that touch me. Indeed I am much displeased, they should thereby be of less worth: but so it is, that I also save something of my engagement and application towards them. I allow of him, that loves his child so much the less, by how much more he is either deformedly crooked, or scaldheaded: And not only when he is knavish or shrewd, but also being unlucky or ill borne (for God himself hath in that abated of his worth and natural estimation) always provided, that in such a cold and slight affection, he bear himself with moderation and exact justice. In me, proximity of blood doth nothing diminish, but rather aggravate defects. After all, according to the skill I have in the knowledge of benefits and thankfulness, which is a knowledge very subtle and of great use, I see no man more free and less indebted, then hitherto I am myself. What ever I owe, the same I owe simply to common and natural obligations. There is no man more absolutely quit and clear else whence. — nec sunt mihi nota potentum Munera. With gifts I am not much acquainted, Of mighty men, and much less tainted. Princes give me sufficiently, if they take nothing from me, and do me much good, if they do me no hurt: it is all I require of them. Oh how much am I beholding to God, forsomuch as it hath pleased him, that whatsoever I enjoy, I have immediately received the same from his grace: that he hath particularly reserved all my debt unto himself. I most instantly beseech his sacred mercy, that I may never owe any man so much as one essential Godamercy. Oh thrice fortunate liberty, that hath brought me so far. May it end successfully. I endeavour to have no manner of need of any man. In me omnis spes est mihi. All my hope for all my help is myself. It is a thing that every man may effect in himself: but they more easily, whom God hath protected and sheltered from natural and urgent necessities. Indeed it is both lamentable and dangerous, to depend of others. Ourselves, which is the safest and most lawful refuge, are not very sure under ourselves. I have nothing that is mine own, but myself: yet is the possession thereof partly defective and borrowed. I manure myself, both in courage (which is the stronger) and also in fortune, that if all things else should forsake me, I might find something, wherewith to please and satisfy myself. Eleus Hippias did not only store himself with learning, that in time of need he might joyfully withdraw himself amongst the Muses, and be sequestered from all other company: nor only with the knowledge of Philosophy, to teach his mind to be contented with her, and when his chance should so dispose of him, manfully to pass over such incommodities, as exteriorlie might come unto him. But moreover he was so curious in learning to dress his meat, to not his hair, to make his clothes, breeches and shoes, that as much as could possibly be, he might wholly rely & trust to himself, & be freed from all sorraine help. A man doth more freely and more blithely enjoy borrowed goods: when it is not a bounden iovissance and constrained through need: and that a man hath in his will the power, and in his fortune the means to live without them. I know myself well. But it is very hard for me to imagine any liberality of another body so pure towards me, or suppose any hospitality so free. so hearty and genuine, as would not seem affected, tyrranicall, disgraced and attended on by reproach, if so were that necessity had forced and tied me unto it. As to give is an ambitious quality, and of prerogative, so is taking a quality of submission. Witness the injurious and pickthank refusal, that Bajazeth made of the presents which Themir had sent him. And those which in the behalf of Soliman the Emperor were sent to the Emperor of Calicut, did so vex him at the hart, that he did not only utterly reject and scornfully refuse them; saying, that neither himself nor his predecessors before him, were accustomed to take any thing, and that their office was rather to give; but besides he caused the Ambassadors, to that end sent unto him, to be cast into a deep dungeon. When Thetis (saith Aristotle) flattereth jupiter: when the Lacedæmonians flatter the Athenians, they do not thereby intent to put them in mind of the good they have done them, which is ever hateful, but of the benefits they have received of them. Those I see familiarly to employ and make use of all men, to beg and borrow of all men, and engage themselves to all men, would doubtless never do it, knew they as I do, or tasted they as I have done, the sweet content of a pure and undepending liberty: and if therewithal (as a wiseman ought) they did duly ponder what it is for a man to engage himself into such an obligation, or liberty depriving bond. It may happily be paid sometimes, But it can never be utterly dissolved. It is a cruel bondage, to him that loveth, thoroughly and by all means to have the free scope of his liberty. Such as are best and most acquainted with me, know, whether ever they saw any man living, less soliciting, less craving, less inportuning or less begging, than I am, or that less employeth or chargeth others, which if I be, and that beyond all modern example, it is no great wonder, sithence so many parts of my humours or manners contribute thereunto. As a natural kind of stubborness; an impatience to be denied; a contraction of my desires and designs; and an insufficiency or untowardliness in all manner of affairs; but above all, my most favoured qualities, lethal slothfulness, and a genuine liberty. By all which means, I have framed an habit, mortally to hate, to be beholding to any creature else, or to depend of other, then unto and of myself. True it is, that before I employ the beneficence or liberality of an other, in any light or weighty occasion, small or urgent need soever: I do to the utmost power employ all that ever I am able, to avoid and forbear it. My friends do strangely importune and molest me, when they solicit and urge me to entreat a third man. And I deem it a matter of no less charge and imputation, to disengage him that is indebted unto me, by making use of him, then to engage myself unto him that oweth me nothing. Both which conditions being removed, let them not look for any cumbersome, negotious and careful matter at my hands (for I have denounced open war unto all manner of cark and care) I am commodiously easy and ready in times of any body's necessity. And I have also more avoided to receive, than sought to give: which (as Aristotle saith) is also more facile. My fortune hath afforded me small means to benefit others and that little she hath bestowed on me, the same hath she also meanly and indifferently placed. Had she made me to be so borne that I might have kept some rank amongst men, I would then have been ambitious in procuring to be beloved, but never to be feared or admired. Shall I express it more insolently? I would have had as much regard unto pleasing, as unto profiting. Cyrus doth most wisely, and by the mouth of an excellent Captain and also a better Philosopher, esteem his bounty and prize his good deeds, far beyond his valour and above his warlike conquests. And Scipio the elder, wheresoever he seeketh to prevail and set forth himself, rateth his debonairitie and valueth his humanity above his courage and beyond his victories: and hath ever this glorious saying in his mouth: That he hath left his enemies as much cause to love him, as his friends. I will therefore say, that if a man must thus owe any thing, it ought to be under a more lawful title, then that whereof I speak, to which the law of this miserable war doth engage me; and not of so great a debt, as that of my total preservation and whole estate: which doth unreparablie over-whelme me. I have a thousand times gone to bed in mine house, imagining I should the very same night, either have been betrayed or slain in my bed: compounding and conditioning with fortune, that it might be without apprehension of fearful astonishment and languishment; And after my prayers, have cried out, Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit? Shall these our grounds so decked and dressed, Virg. eclo. 1. 11. By godless soldiers be possessed? What remedy? It is the place where myself and most of my ancestors were borne: therein have they placed their affection and their name. We harden ourselves unto whatsoever we accustom ourselves. And to a wretched condition, as ours is, custom hath been a most favourable present, given us by nature, which enureth and lulleth our sense asleep, to the suffering of diverse evils. Civil wars have this one thing worse than other wars, to cause every one of us to make a watchtower of his own house. quam miserum, porta vitam muroque tueri, O●id. Trist. l. 4. el. 1. 69. Vixque suae tutum viribus esse domus! How hard with gate and wall our life to guard, And scarce be safe in our own houses bard It is an irksome extremity, for one to be troubled and pressed even in his own household and domestical rest. The place wherein I dwell, is ever both the first and last to the battery of our troubles: and where peace is never absolutely discerned, Tum quoque cum pax est, trepidant formidine belli. Lucan. l. 1. 256 Even when in peace they are, They quake for fear of war. — quoties pacem fortuna lacessit, Ibid. 252. Hac iter est bellis, melius fortuna dedisses Orb sub Eoo sedem, gelidaque sub Arcto, Errantesque domos. As oft as fortune troubleth peace, their race Wars makes this way: fortune with better grace, In th'eastern world thou shouldst have given them place, Or wandering tents for war, under the cold North-star. I sometimes draw the means to strengthen myself against these considerations, from carelessness and idleness: which also in some sort bring us unto resolution. It often befulleth me, with some pleasure, to imagine what mortal dangers are, and to expect them. I do even hoodwinked, with my head in my bosom and with stupidity, plunge myself into death, without considering or knowing it, as into a deep, hollow and bottomless abyss, which at one leap doth swallow me up, and at an instant doth cast me into an eternal slumber, full of insipiditie and indolency. And in these short, sudden or violent deaths, the consequence I foresee of them, affords me more comfort, than the effect of fear. They say, that even an life is not the best, because it is long, so death is the best, because it is short. I estrange not myself so much by being dead, as I enter into confidence with dying. I enwrap and shroud myself in that storm, which shall blind and furioosly wrap me, with a ready and insensible charge. Vea if it happened (as some gardeners say) that those Roses and Violets are ever the sweeter and more odoriferous, that grow near unto Garlic and Onions, forsomuch as they suck and draw all the ill savours of the ground unto them: so that these depraved natures would draw and suck all the venom of mine air, and infection of my climate; and by their nearness unto me, make me so much the better and purer; that I might not lose all. That is not; but of this, something may be, forsomuch as goodness is the fairer and more attracting when it is rare, and that contrariety stifneth, and diversity encloseth well-doing in itself, and by the jealousy of opposition and glory, it doth inflame it. thieves and stealers (godamercy their kindness) have in particular nothing to say to me: no more have I to them. I should then have to do with overmany sorts of men. Alike consciences lurk under diver● kinds of garments: Alike cruelty, disloyalty and stealing. And so much the worse, by how much it is more base, more safe and more secret under the colour of laws. I hate less an open-professed injury, than a deceiving traitorous wrong; an hostile and warlike, than a peaceful and lawful. Our fever hath seized upon a body, which it hath not much impaired. The fire was in it, but now the flame hath taken hold of it. The report is greater; the hurt but little. I ordinarily answer such as demand reasons for my voyages: That I know what I shun, but w●t not what I seek. If one tell me, there may be as little sound health amongst strangers, and that their manners are neither better nor purer, than ours: I answer first that it is very hard: Tam multa scelerum facies. Virg. Georg. l. 1. 506. The forms so manifold Of wickedness we hold. Secondly, that it is ever a gain, to change a bad estate for an uncertain. And that others evils, should not touch us so near as ours. I will not forget this, that I can never mutiny so much against France, but I must needs look on Paris with a favourable eye: It hath my hart from my infancy: whereof it hath befallen me as of excellent things: the more other fair and stately cities I have seen since, the more her beauty hath power and doth still usurpingly gain upon my affection. I love that City for her own sake, and more in her only subsisting and own being, then when it is full-fraught and embellished with foreign pomp and borrowed garish ornaments: I love her so tenderly, that even her spots, her blemishes and her warts are dear unto me. I am no perfect Frenchmen, but by this great-matchlesse City, great in people, great in regard of 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 noblest and chief ornaments of the world. God of his mercy free her, and chase away all our divisions from her: Being entirely united to herself, I find her defended from all other violence. I forewarn her, that of all factions, that shall be the worst, which shall breed discord and sedition in her. And for her sake, I only fear herself. And surely, I am in as great fear for her, as for any other part of our state. So long as she shall continue, so long shall I never want a home or retreat, to retire and shroud myself at all times: a thing able to make me for get the regret of all other retreats. Not because Socrates hath said it, but because such is in truth my humour, and peradventure not without some excuse, to esteem all men as my countrymen; and as I kindly embrace a Polonian as a Frenchman; postposing this natural bond, to universal and common. I am not greatly strucken with the pleasantness of natural air. Acquaintances altogether new and wholly mine, do in my conceit countervail the worth of all other vulgar and casual acquaintances of our neighbours. Friendships merely acquired by ourselves, do ordinarily exceed those, to which we are joined, either by communication of Climate, or affinity of blood. Nature hath placed us in the world free and unbound, we emprison ourselves into certain straits: As the kings of Perfia▪ who bound themselves never to drink other water, then of the river Choaspez; foolishly renouncing all lawful right of use in all other waters: and for their regard dried up all the rest of the world. What Socrates did in his latter days, to deem a sentence of banishment worse, than a doom of death against himself, being of the mind I am now, I shall never be neither so base minded, nor so strictly habituated in my country, that I would follow him. The celestial lives, have diverse images, which I embrace more by estimation, then by affection. And some to extraordinary, and so highly elevated, which because I am not able to conceive, I cannot embrace by estimation. This humour was very tenderly appehended by him, who deemed all the world to be his City. True it is, he disdained peregrinations, and had not much set his foot beyond the territory of Athens. What, if he bewailed the money his friend offered to lay out, to disengage his life, and refused to come out of prison, by the intercession of others, because he would not disobey the laws, in a time wherein they were otherwise so corrupted? These examples are of the first kind for me Of the second there are others, which I could find in the very same man. Many of these rare examples exceed the power of my action; but some exceed also the force of my judgement. Besides these reasons, I deem travel to be a profitable exercise. The mind hath therein a continual exercitation, to mark things unknown, and note new objects. And as I have often said, I know no better school, to fashion a man's life, then uncessantly to propose unto him the diversity of so many other men's lives, customs, humours and fantasies; and make him taste or apprehend one so perpetual variety of our nature's shapes or forms. Therein the body is neither absolutely idle nor wholly troubled: and, that moderate agitation doth put him into breath. Myself, as crazed with the colic as I am, can sit eight, yea sometimes ten hours on horseback, without weariness or tiring. Vires ultra sortemque senectae. Virg. Aen. l. 6. 114. Beyond strength ordinary, Which old years use to carry. No weather is to me so contrary, as the scorching heat of the parching Sun. For, these Vmbrels or riding canapies, which since the ancient Romans, the Italians use, do more weary the arms, then ease the head. I would faine-faine know what industry it was in the Persians, so anciently, and even in the infancy of luxuriousness (as Xenoph●n reporteth) to fan themselves, and at their pleasures to make cold shades. I love rainy and dirty weather, as ducks do. The change either of air or climate doth nothing distemper me. All heavens are alike to me, I am never vexed or beaten, but with internal alterations, such as I produce myself, which surprise and possess me least in times of wayfairing. It is a hard matter to make me resolve of any journey: but if I be once on the way, I hold out as long and as far, as another. I strive as much in small, as I labour in great enterprises: and to prepare myself for a short journey or to visit a friend, as to undertake a farre-set voyage. I have learned to frame my journeys after the Spanish fashion, all at once and outright; great and reasonable. And in extreme heats, I travel by night, from Sunset to sun-rising. The other fashion, confusedly and in haste to bait by the way and dine, especially in Winter, when the days are so short, is both troublesome for man, and incommodious for horse. My jades are the better, and hold out longer. No horse did ever fail me, that held out the first days journey with me. I water them in all waters; and only take care of their last watering, that before I come to mine Inn they have way enough to beat their water. My slothfulness to rise in the morning, alloweth such as follow me sufficient leisure to dine, before we take horse. As for me, I never feed over-late: I commonly get an appetite in eating, and no otherwise: jam never hungry but at the table. Some complain, that being married, and well strucken in years, I have enured myself, and been pleased to continue this exercise. They do me wrong: The best time for a man to leave his house, is when he hath so ordered and settled the same, that it may continue without him: and when he hath so disposed his affairs, that they may answer the ancient course and wont form. It is much more indiscretion, and an argument of want of judgement, to go from home, and leave no trusty guard in his house, and which for lack of care may be slow or forgetful in providing for such necessities, as in your absence it may stand in need of. The most profitable knowledge, and honourablest occupation for a matron or mother of a family, is the occupation and knowledge of huswiferie. I see diverse covetous, but few huswives. It is the mistresse-qualitie that all men should seek after, and above all other endeavour to find: as the only dowry, that serveth, either to ruin and overthrow, or to save and enrich our houses. Let no man speak to me of it; according as experience hath taught me, I require in a married woman the Economical virtue above all others. Wherein I would have her absolutely skilful, since by my absence I commit the whole charge, and bequeath the full government of my household to her. I see (and that to my grief) in diverse houses the master or goodman come home at noon all weary, dirty and dusty, with drudging and toiling about his business, when the mistress or goodwife is either scarce up, or if she be, she is yet in her closet, dressing, decking, smugging or trimming of herself. It is a thing only fitting Queens or Princes; whereof some doubt might be made. It is ridiculous that the idleness, and unjust that the lithernesse of our wives should be fostered with our sweat, and maintained by our travel: No man (as near as I can) shall fortune to have a more free and more absolute use, or a more quiet and more liquid fruition of his goods, than I have. If the husband bring matter; nature herself would have women to bring form. Concerning duties of wedlocke-friendship, which some happily imagine to be interessed or prejudiced by the husband's absence, I believe it not. chose, it is a kind of intelligence, that easily grows cold by an over-continuall assistance, and decayeth by assiduity; for, to stand still at rack and manger breedeth a satiety. Every strange woman seemeth to us an honest woman: And all feel by experience, that a continual seeing one another, cannot possibly represent the pleasure, men take by parting and meeting again. These interruptions fill me with a new kind of affection, toward mine own people, and yield me the use of my house more pleasing: vicissitude doth now and then en-earnest my mind toward one, and then toward another. I am not ignorant how true amity hath arms long enough, to embrace, to clasp and hold from one corner of the world Unto another: namely in this, where is a continual communication of offices, that cause the obligation, and revive the remembrance thereof. The Stoics say, that there is so great an affinity and mutual relation, between wise men, that he who dineth in France, feedeth his companion in Egypt; and if one of them do but hold up his finger, where ever it be, all the wise men dispersed upon the habitable land, feel a kind of aid thereby. jovissance and possession, appertain chiefly Unto imagination. It embraceth more earnestly and uncessantly what she goeth to fetch, than what we touch. Summon and count all your daily ammusements; and you shall find, you are then furthest and most absent from your friend, when he is present with you. His assistance releaseth your attention, and giveth your thoughts liberty, at all times and upon every occasion, to absent themselves. If I be at Rome, or any where else, I hold, I survey and govern my house and the commodities, which I have left about and in it. I even see my walls, my trees, my grass and my rents, to stand, to grow, to decay and to diminish, within an inch or two of that I should do when I am at home. Ante oculos errat domus, errat forma locorum. My house is still before mine eyes, There still the form of places lies. If we but only enjoy what we touch, farewell our crowns when they are in our coffers, and adieu to our children, when they are abroad or a hunting; we would have them nearer. In the garden is it far off? within half a days journey? What, within ten leagues, is it far or near? If it be near: what is eleven, twelve, or thirteen? and so step by step. Verily that woman who can prescribe unto her husband, how many steps end that which is near, and which step in number begins the distance she counts far, I am of opinion, that she stay him between both. — excludat iurgïa finis. Hor. l. 2. epist. 1. 38. Let the conclusion, Exclude confusion. Vtor permisso, caudaeque pilos ut equinae Paulatim vello: & demo unum, demo etiam unum Dum cadat elusus ratione ruentis acervi. juse the grant, and pluck by one and one Ibid. 45. The horse-tail hairs, till when the bush is gone, I leave the jade a curtal tail or none. And let them boldly call for Philosophy to help them. To whom some might reproach, since she neither discerneth the one nor other end of the joint, between the overmuch and the little; the long and the short; the light and the heavy, the near and the far; since she neither knows the beginning nor ending thereof, that she doth very uncertainly judge of the middle. Rerum nature a nullam nobis dedit cognitionem finium: Nature hath afforded us no knowledge of her ends. Are they not yet wives and friends of the deceased, that are not at the end of this, but in the other world? we embrace both those that have been, and those which are not yet, not only the absent. We did not condition, when we were married, continually to keep ourselves close hugging one another, as some, I wot not what little creatures do, we see daily; or as those bewitched people of Karenti, in a kind of dogged manner. And a woman should not have her eyes so greedily or so dotingly fixed on her husband's forepart, that if need shall require, she may not view his hinder-partes. But might not the saying of that cunning Painter, who could so excellently set forth their humours and portray their conditions, fitly be placed here, lively to represent the cause of their complaints? Vxor, si cesses, aut te amare cogitat, Ter. Adelph. act. 1. s●. 1. Aut tete amari, aut potare, aut animo obsequi, Et tibi bene esse soli, cum sibi sit malè. If you be slow, your wife thinks that in love you are, Or are beloved, or drink, or all for pleasure care, And that you only farewell, when she ill doth far. Or might it be, that opposition and contradiction do naturally entertain, and of themselves nourish them: and that they are sufficiently accommodated, provided they disturb and incommode you? In truly-perfect friendship, wherein I presume to have some skill and well-grounded experience; I give myself more unto my friend, than I draw him unto me. I do not only rather love to do him good, than he should do any to me; but also, that he should rather do good unto himself, then unto me; For than doth he me most good, when he doth it to himself. And if absence be either pleasing or beneficial unto him, it is to me much more pleasing, than his presence: and that may not properly be termed absence, where means and ways may be found to enter-advertise one another. I have heretofore made good use, and reaped commodity by our absence and distance. We better replenished the benefit, and extended further the possession of life, by being divided and farre-asunder: He lived, he rejoiced, and he saw for me, and I for him, as fully, as if he had been present: Being together, one party was idle: We confounded one another. The separation of the place, made the conjunction of our minds and wills, the richer. This insatiate and greedy desire of corporal presence, doth somewhat accuse the weakness in the iovissance of souls. Concerning age, which some allege against me, it is clean contrary. It is for youth, to subject and bondage itself to common opinions, and by force to constrain itself for others. It may fit the turn of both; the people and itself: We have but overmuch to do with ourselves alone. According as natural commodities fail us, let us sustain ourselves by artificial means. It is injustice, to excuse youth in following her pleasures, and forbid age to devise and seek them. When I was young, I concealed my wanton and covered my youthful passions, with wit; and now being aged, I endeavour to pass the sad and incident to years, with sport and debauches. Yet do Plato's laws forbid men to travel abroad, before they are forty or fifty years of age, that so their travel may sort more profitable, and prove more instructive. I should more willingly consent to this other second article of the said laws, which forbiddeth men to wander abroad, after they are once threescore. Of which age, few that travel farre-journies' return home again. What care I for that? I undertake it not, either to return or to perfect the same. I only undertake it to be in motion: So long as the motion pleaseth me, and I walk that I may walk. Those run not, that run after a Benefice or after a Hare: But they run, that run at barriers and to exercise their running. My de●scigne is every where divisible, it is not grounded on great hopes: each day makes an end of it. Even so is my life's voyage directed. Yet have I seen diverse farre-countries, where I would have been glad to have been stayed. Why not? If Chrysippus, Diogenes, Cleanthes, Antipater and Zeno, with so many other wise men of that roughly-severe, and severely-strict Sect, forsook their Countries (without just cause to be offended with them) only to enjoy another air? Truly the greatest grief of my peregrinations, is, that I cannot have a firm resolution, to establish my abiding where I would. And that I must ever resolve with myself to return, for to accommodate myself unto common humours. If I should fear to die in any other place, then where I was borne; if I thought I should die less at my ease, far from mine own people: I would hardly go out of France, nay I should scarcely go out of mine own parish, without feeling some dismay. I feel death ever pinching me by the throat, or pulling me by the back: But I am of another mould; to me it is ever one, and at all times the same. Nevertheless if I were to choose, I think it should rather be on horseback, than in a bed; from my home, and far from my friends. There is more hartssorrow, than comfort, in taking one's last farewell of his friends. I do easily forget or neglect these duties or compliments of our common or civil courtesy. For, of Offices appertaining to unaffected amity, the same is the most displeasing and offensive: And I should as willingly forget to give a body that great adieu, or eternal farewell. If a body reap any commodity by this assistance, he also finds infinite inconveniences in it. I have seen diverse die most piteously, compassed and beset round with their friends and servants: Such multitudes, and thronging of people doth stifle them. It is against reason, and a testimony of small affection, and little care they have of you should die at rest. One offendeth your eyes, another molesteth your ears, the third v exeth your mouth: You have neither sense nor limb, or part of your body, but is tormented and grieved. Your hart is ready to burst for pity to hear your friends moans and complaints; and to rive asunder with spite to hear peradventure some of their wail and moans, that are but feigned and counterfeit. If a man have ever had a mild or tender nature, being weak and ready to die, he must then necessarily have it more tender and relenting. It is most requisite, that in so urgent a necessity, one have a gentle hand and fitly applied to his senses, to scratch him where he itcheth; or else he ought not be clawed at all. If we must needs have the help of a Midwife, to bring us into this world, there is reason we should also have the aiding-hand of a wise man, to deliver us out of the same. Such a one, and there with all a true friend, should a man beforehand purchase very dear, only for the service of such an occasion. I am not yet come to that disdainful vigour, which so fortifieth itself, that at such times nothing aideth, nor nothing troubleth: I fly a lower pitch. I seek to squat myself, and steal from that passage: not by fear, but by Art. My intent is not in such an action, to make either trial or show of my constancy. Wherefore? Because, then shall the right and interest I have in reputation cease. I am content with a death united in itself, quiet and solitary, wholly mine, convenient to my retired and private life. Clean contrary to the Roman superstition, where he was judged unhappy, that died without speaking, and had not his nearest friends to close his eyes. I have much ado to comfort myself, without being troubled to comfort others: cares and vexations ●now in my mind, without needing circumstances to bring me new; and sufficient matter to entertain myself, without borrowing any. This share belongs not to the part of society: It is the act of one man alone. Let us live, laugh and be merry amongst our friends, but die and yield up the ghost amongst strangers, and such as we know not. He who hath money in his purse, shall ever find some ready to turn his head, make his bed, rub his feet, attend him, and that will trouble and importune him no longer than he list: and will ever show him an indifferent and well-composed countenance, and without grumbling or grudging give a man leave to do what he please, and complain as he list. I daily endeavour by discourse to shake off this childish humour and inhuman conceit, which causeth, that by our griefs and pains we ever desire to move our friends to compassion and sorrow for us, and with a kind of sympathy to condole our miseries and passions. We endear our inconveniences beyond measure, to extract tears from them: And the constancy we so much commend in all others, undauntedly to endure all evil fortunes; we accuse and upbraid to our nearest allies, when they molest us: we are not contented they should have a sensible feeling of our calamities, if they do not also afflict themselves for them. A man should as much as he can set forth and extend his joy; but to the utmost of his power, suppress and abridge his sorrow. He that will causelessly be moaned, and sans reason, deserveth not to be pitied when he shall have cause and reason for it. To be ever complaining and always moaning, is the way never to be moaned and seldom to be pitied: and so often to seem over-passionately-pitifull, is the mean to make no man feelingly-ruthfull towards others. He that makes himself dead being alive, is subject to be accounted alive when he is dying. I have seen some take pepper in the nose, forsomuch as they were told that they had a cheerful countenance; that they looked well; that they had a temperate pulse: to force laughter, because some betrayed their recovery: and hate their health, because it was not regreetable. And which is more, they were no women. I for the most, represent my infirmities such as they are: And shun such words as are of evil presage, and avoid composed exclamations. If not glee and mirth, at least an orderlysetled countenance of the bystanders and assistants, is sufficiently-convenient to a wise and discreet sick-man, who though he see himself in a contrary state, he will not pick a quarrel with health. He is pleased to behold the same, sound and strong in others; and at least for company-sake to enjoy his part of it. Though he feel and find himself to faint and sink down, he doth not altogether reject the conceits and imaginations of life, nor doth he avoid common entertainments. I will study sickness when I am in health: when it comes, it will really enough make her impression, without the help of my imagination. We deliberately prepare ourselves before hand for any voyage we undertake, and therein are resolved: the hour is set when we will take horse, and we give it to our company, in whose favour we extend it. I find this unexpected profit by the publication of my manners, that in some sort it serveth me for a rule. I am sometimes surprised with this consideration, not to betray the history of my life. This public declaration, binds me to keep myself within my course, and not to contradict the image of my conditions: commonly less disfigured and gainsaid, than the malignity and infirmity of modern judgements doth bear. The uniformity and singleness of my manners, produceth a visage of easy interpretation; but because the fashion of them is somewhat new and strange, and out of use, it giveth detraction to fair play. Yet is it true, that to him, who will go about loyally to injure me, me thinks I do sufficiently afford him matter, whereby he may detract and snarl at my avowed and known imperfections, and wherewith he may be satisfied, without vain contending and idle skirmishing. If myself by preoccupating his discovery and accusation, he thinks I bar him of his snarling, it is good reason he take his right, towards amplification and extension: Offence hath her rights beyond justice: And that the vices, whereof I show him the roots in me, he should amplify them to trees. Let him not only employ there unto those that possess me, but those which but threaten me. Injurious vices, both in quality and in number. Let him beat me that way. I should willingly embrace the example of Dion the Philosopher. Antigonus going about to scoff and quip at him touching his birth and offspring, he interrupted him and took the word out of his mouth: I am (said he) the son of a bondslave, a butcher, branded for a rogue, and of a whore, whom my father by reason of his base fortune, took to wife: Both were punished for some misdeed. Being a child, an Orator bought me as a slave, liking me for my beauty and comeliness; and dying, left me all his goods; which having transported into this city of Athens, I have applied myself unto Philosophy. Let not Historians busy themselves in seeking news of me. I will at large blaz on myself, and plainly tell them the whole discourse. A generous and free-minded confession doth disable a reproach and disarm an injury. So it is, that when all Cards be told, me seems, that I am as oft commended as dispraised beyond reason. As also me thinks, that even from my infancy, both in rank and degree of honour, I have had place given me, rather above and more, than less and beneath that which appertained to me. I should better like to be in a country, where these orders might either be reform or contemned. Amongst men, after that striving or altercation for the prerogative or upper hand in going or sitting, exceedeth three replies, it becometh incivill. I neither fear to yield and give place, nor to follow and proceed unjustly, so I may avoid such irksome and importunate contestations. And never did man desire precedency or place before me, but I quitted the same without grudging. Besides the profit I reap by writing of myself, I have hoped for this other, that if ever it might happen my humours should please or sympathise with some honest man, he would before my death seek to be acquainted with me, or to overtake me. I have given him much ground: For, whatsoever a long acquaintance or continual familiarity might have gained him in many wearisome years, the same hath he in three days fully seen in this Register; and that more safely and more exactly. A pleasant fantazie is this of mine; many things I would be loath to tell a particular man, I utter to the whole world. And concerning my most secret thoughts and inward knowledge, I send my dearest friends to a Stationer's shop. Excutienda damus praecordia. Pers. sat. 5. 22. Our very entrails we Lay forth for you to see. If by so good marks and tokens, I had ever known or heard of any one man, that in this humour had been answerable to me, I would assuredly have wandered very far to find him out: For, the exceeding joy of a sortable and in one consent agreeing company, cannot (in mine opinion) be sufficiently endeared or purchased at too high a rate. Oh God who can express the value or conceive the true worth of a friend? How true is that ancient golden saying, that the use of a friend is more necessary and pleasing, then of the elements, water and fire. But to return to my former discourse: There is then no great inconvenience in dying far from home and abroad. We esteem it a part of duty and decency to withdraw ourselves for natural actions, less hideous and less disgraceful than this. But also those that come unto that, in languishing manner to draw a long space of life, should not happily wish with their misery to trouble a whole family. Therefore did the Indians of a certain country deem it just and lawful, to kill him that should fall into such necessity. And in another of their Provinces, they though it meet to forsake him, and as well as he could leave him alone to seek to save himself. To whom at last, prove they not themselves tedious and intolerable? Common offices proceed not so far. Perforce you teach cruelty unto your best friends; obdurating by long use, both wife and children, not to feel, nor to conceive, nor to moan your evils any longer. The groans and outcries of my colic, cause no more ruth and wailing in any body. And should we conceive pleasure by their conversation (which seldom happeneth, by reason of the disparity of conditions, which easily produceth either contempt or envy towards what man soever) is it not tootoo much, therewith to abuse a whole age? The more I should see them with a good heart to strain themselves for me, the more should I bewail their pain. The law of courtesy alloweth us to lean upon others, but not so unmannerly to lie upon them and vnderpropt ourselves in their ruin. As he who caused little infants to be slain, that with their innocent blood he might be cured of a malady he had. Or another who was continually stored with young teudrels or lasses, to keep his old-frozen limbs warm a nights, and entermix the sweetness of their breath with his old-stinking and offensive vapours. Decrepitude is a solitary quality. I am sociable even unto excess, yet do I think it reasonable, at last to subtract my opportunity from the sight of the world, and hatch it in myself. Let me shroud and shrug myself into my shell, as a tortoise: and learn to see men, without taking hold of them. I should outrage them in so steep a passage. It is now high time to turn from the company. But here will somesay, that in thesefarre journeys you may peradventure fall into some miserable dog-hole or poor cottage, where you shall want all needful things. To whom I answer, that for things most necessary insuch cases, I ever carry most of them with me: And that, wherever we are, we cannot possibly avoid fortune, if she once take upon her to persecute us. When I am sick, I want nothing that is extraordinary: what nature cannot work in me, I will not have a Bolus, or a glister to effect. At the very beginning of my agues or sicknesses that cast me down, whilst I am yet whole in my senses and near unto health, I reconcile myself to God by the last duties of a Christian; whereby I find myself free and discharged; and think I have so much more reason and authority over my sickness, I find less want of Notaries and counsel, then of Physicians. What I have not disposed of my affairs or settled of my state when I was in perfect health, let none expect I should do it being sick. Whatever I will do for the service of death, is always ready done. I dare not delay it one only day. And if nothing be done, it is as much to say, that either some doubt hath delayed the choice: For, sometimes it is a good choice, not to choose at all: Or that absolutely I never intended to do any thing. I write my book to few men, and to few years. Had it been a matter of lasting continuance, it should have been compiled in a better and more polished language: According to the continual variation, that hitherto hath followed our French tongue. Who may hope, that it's present form shall be in use fifty years hence? It daily changeth and slips our hands: and since I could speak the same, it is much altered and well nigh half varied. We say it is now come to a full perfection. There is no age but saith as much of hers. It lies not in my power, so long as it glideth and differeth and altereth as it doth, to keep it at a stay. It is for excellent and profitable compositions to fasten it unto them, whose credit shall either diminish or increase, according to the fortune of our state. For all that, I fear not to insert therein diverse private articles, whose use is consumed amongst men living now adays: and which concern the particular knowledge of some, that shall further see into it, then with a common understanding. When all is done, I would not (as I often see the memory of the deceased tossed too and fro) that men should descant and argue: Thus and thus be judged; thus he lived; thus he meant: had he spoken when his life left him, he would have given I wot what: There is no man knew him better than myself. Now, as much as modesty and decorum doth permit me; I here give a taste of my inclinations and an essay of my affection: which I do more freely and more willingly by word of mouth, to any that shall desire to be thoroughly informed of them. But so it is, that if any man shall look into these memorials, he shall find, that either I have said all, or desseigned all. What I cannot express, the same I point at with my finger. Verum animo satis haec vestigia parva sagaci Lutt. lib. 1. 4. 19 Sunt, per quae possis cognoscere cateratnte. But this small footing to a quicke-sent mind May serve, whereby safely the rest to find. I leave nothing to be desired or divined of me. If one must entertain himself with them, I would have it to be truly and justly. I would willingly come from the other world, to give him the lie, that should frame me other then I had been: were it he meant to honour me. I see that of the living, men never speak according to truth; and they are ever made to he, what they are not. And if with might and main, I had not upheld a friend of mine whom I have lately lost, he had surely been mangled and torn in a thousand contrrary shapes. But to make an end of my weak humours: I confess, that in traveling I seldom alight in any place or come to any Inn, but first of all I cast in my mind whether I may conveniently lie there, if I should chance to fall sick; or dying, die at my ease and take my death quietly. I will, as near as I can be lodged in some convenient part of the house, and in particular from all noise or stinking favours; in no close, filthy or smoky chamber. I seek to flatter death by these frivolous circumstances: Or as I may rather say, to discharge myself from all other trouble or encumbrance; that so I may wholly apply and attend her, who without that shall happily lie very heavy upon me. I will have her take a full share of my lives eases and commodities; it is a great part of it and of much consequence, and I hope it shall not bely what is past. Death hath some forms more easy than others, and assumeth diverse qualities; according to all men's fantasies. Among the natural ones, that proceeding of weakness and heavy dullness, to me seemeth gentle and pleasant. Among the violent I imagine a precipice more hardly, than a ruin that overwhelmes me: and a cutting blow with a sword, than a shot of an arquebus: and I would rather have chosen to drink the potion of Socrates, then wound myself as Cato did. And though it be all one yet doth my imagination perceive a difference, as much as is between death and life, to cast myself into a burning furnace, or in the channel of a shallow river. So foolishly doth our fear respect more the mean, than the effect. It is but one instant; but of such moment, that to pass the same according to my desire, I would willingly renounce many of my lives-dayes. Since all men's fantasies, find either excess or diminution in her sharpensse; since every man hath some choice between the forms of dying, let us try a little further, whether we can find out some one, free from all sorrow and grief. Might not one also make it seem voluptuous, as did those who died with Anthonic and Cleopatra? I omit to speak of the sharp and exemplar efforts, that philosophy and religion produce. But amongst men of no great fame, some have been found (as one Petronius, and one Tigillinus at Rome) engaged to make themselves away, who by the tenderness of their preparations have in a manner lulled the same asleep. They have made it pass and glide away, even in the midst of the security of their accustomed pastimes and wanton recreations: Amongst harlots and good fellows; no speech of comfort, no mention of will or testament, no ambitious affectation of constancy, no discourse of their future condition, no compunction of sins committed, no apprehension of their souls-health, ever troubling them; amid sports, plays, banqueting, surfeiting, chambering, jesting, music and singing of amorous verses: and all such popular and common entertainments. Might not we imitate this manner of resolution in more honest affairs and more commendable attempts? And since there are deaths good unto wise men and good unto fools, let us find some one that may be good unto such as are between both. My imagination presents me some easy and mild countenance thereof, and (since we must all die) to be desired. The tyrants of Rome have thought, they gave that criminal offender his life, to whom they gave the free choice of death. But Theophrastus a Philosopher so delicate, so modest and so wise, was he not forced by reason, to dare to utter this verse, latinized by Cicero: Vitam regit fortuna non sapientia. Cic. Tusc. qu. l. 5. Theoph. Calisth. Fortune our life doth rule, Not wisdom of the school. Fortune giveth the facility of my lives-condition some aid; having placed it in such a time, wherein it is neither needful nor cumbersome unto my people. It is a condition I would have accepted in all the seasons of my age: but in this occasion to truss up bag and baggage, and take up my bed and walk: I am particularly pleased, that when I shall die, I shall neither breed pleasure nor cause sorrow in them. She hath caused (which is the recompense of an artist) that such as by my death may pretend any material benefit, receive thereby elsewhere, jointly a material loss and hindrance. Death lies sometimes heavy upon us, in that it is burdensome to others: and interesseth us with their interest, almost as much as with ours: and sometimes more; yea altogether. In this inconveniency of lodging that I seek, I neither entermix pomp nor amplitude; For, I rather hate it. But a certain simple and homely propriety, which is commonly found in places where less Art is, and that nature honoureth with some grace peculiar unto herself. Non ampliter sed munditer convivium. Plus salis quam sumptus. Not a great, but a neat feast. More conceit than cost. Plantin. And then, it is for those, who by their urgent affairs are compelled to travel in the midst of deep Winter, and amongst the Grisons, to be surprised by such extremities in their journeys. But I, who for the most part never travel, but for pleasure, will neither be so ill advised, nor so simply guided. If the way be fowl on my right hand, I take the left: If I find myself ill at ease or unfit to ride, I stay at home. Which doing, and observing this course, in very truth I see no place, and come no where, that is not as pleasant, as convenient and as commodious as mine own house. True it is, that I ever find superfluity superfluous: and observe a kind of troublesomeness in delicateness and plenty. Have I omitted or left any thing behind me that was worth the seeing? I return back; It is ever my way, I am never out of it. I trace no certain line, neither right nor crooked. Coming to any strange place, find I not what was told me? As it often fortuneth, that others judgements agree not with mine, and have most times found them false, I grieve not at my labour: I have learned that what was reported to be there, is not. I have my body's complexion as free, and my taste as common, as any man in the world. The diversity of fashions between one and other nations, concerneth me nothing, but by the varieties-pleasure. Each custom hath his reason. Be the trenchers or dishes of wood, of pewter or of earth: be my meat boiled, roasted or baked; butter or oil, and that of Olives or of Walnuts; hot or cold; I make no difference; all is one to me: And as one, that is growing old, I accuse the generous faculty; and had need that delicateness and choice, should stay the indiscretion of my appetite, and sometime ease and solace my stomach. When I have been out of France, and that to do me courtesy, some have asked me, whether I would be served after the French manner, I have jested at them, and have ever thrust-in amongst the thickest tables and fullest of strangers. I am ashamed to see our men besotted with this foolish humour, to fret and chafe, when they see any fashions contrary to theirs. They think themselves out of their element, when they are out of their Village. Where ever they come they keep their own country fashions, and hate, yea and abhor all strange manners: Meet they a countryman of theirs in Hungary, they feast that good fortune: And what do they? Marry close and join together, to blame, to condemn and to scorn so many barbarous fashions as they see. And why not Barbarous, since not French? Nay happily they are the better sort of men, that have noted and so much exclaimed against them. Most take going out but for coming home. They travel close and covered, with a silent and incommunicable wit, defending themselves from the contagion of some unknown air. What I speak of such, puts me in mind in the like matter, of that I have heretofore perceived in some of your young Courtiers. They only converse with men of their coat; and with disdain or pity look upon us, as if we were men of another World. Take away their new fangled, mysterious and affected courtly compliments, and they are out of their byase. As far to seek and short of us, as we of them. That saying is true; That An honest man is a man compounded. Clean contrary, I travel fully glutted with out fashions: Not to seek Gaskoines in Sicily; I have left over many at home. I rather seek for Grecians and Persians: Those I accost, them I consider, and with such I endeavour to be acquainted: to that I prepare and therein I employ myself. And which is more, me seemeth, I have not met with many manners, that are not worth ours. Indeed I have not wandered far, scarcely have I lost the sight of our Chimneys. Moreover, most of the casual companies you meet withal by the way, have more incommodity than pleasure: a matter I do not greatly take hold of, and less now that age doth particularise and in some sort sequester me from common forms. You suffer for other, or others endure for you. The one inconvenience is irksome, the other troublesome: but yet the last is (in my conceit) more rude. It is a rare, chance and seld-seen fortune, but of exceeding solace and inestimable worth, to have an honest man, of singular experience, of a sound judgement, of a resolute understanding and constant resolution, and of manners conformable to yours, to accompany or follow you with a goodwill. I have found great want of such a one in all my voyages. Which company a man must seek with discretion and with great heed obtain, before he wander from home. With me no pleasure is fully delightsome without communication; and no delight absolute, except imparted. I do not so much as apprehend one rare conceit, or conceive one excellent good thought in my mind, but me thinks I am much grieved and grievousty perplexed, to have produced the same alone, and that I have no simpathyzing companion to impart it unto. Si cum hac exceptione detur sapientia, ut illam inclusam tencam, nec enunciem, reijciam. If wisdom should be offered with this exception, that I should keep it concealed, and not utter it, I would refuse it. The other strained it one note higher. Si contigerit ea vita sapienti, ut omnium rerum Cic. Offic. lib 1. affluentibus copijs, quamvis omnia, quae cognitione digna sunt, summo otio secum ipse consideret & contempletur, tamen si solitudo tanta sit, ut hominem videre nonpossit, excedat è vita. If a wiseman might lead such a life, as in abundance of all things he may in full quiet contemplate and consider all things worthy of knowledge, yet if he must be so solitary as he may see no man, he should rather leave such a life. Architas his opinion is suitable to mine, which was, that it would be a thing unpleasing to the very heavens and distasteful to man, to survey and walk within those immense and divine and celestial bodies, without the assistance of a friend or companion: Yet is it better to be alone, than in tedious and foolish company. Aristippus loved to live as an alien or stranger every where. Me si faeta meis paterentur ducere vitam Virg. A●●. lib. 4. 339. Auspicijs, If fates would me permit To live as I think fit, I should choose to wear out my life with my bum in the saddle, ever riding. — visere gestiens, Her car. lib. 3. ●d. 3. 54. Quaparte debacchentur ignes, Qua nebulae pluvijque roars. Delighting much to go and see Where fiery heats rage furiously, Where clouds and rainy dews most be. Have you not more easy pastimes? What is it you want? Is not your house well seated, and in a good and wholesome air? Sufficiently furnished, and more than sufficiently capable? His Royal Majesty hath in great state been in the same, and more than once taken his repast there. Doth not your family in rule and government leave many more inferior to her, than above her eminency? Is there any local thought or care, that as extraordinary doth ulcerate, or as indigestible doth molest you? Quae te nunc coquat & vexet sub pectore fixa. E●●i. Cic. Senect. p. Which now boils in thy breast. And let's thee take no rest. Where do you imagine you may be without impeachment or disturbance? Nunquam simpliciter fortuna indulget. Fortune never favours fully without exception. You see then, there is none but you that trouble and busy yourself: and every where you shall follow yourself, and in all places you shall complain. For, here below there is no satisfaction or content, except for brutal or divine minds. He who in so just an occasion hath no content, where doth he imagine to find it? Unto how many thousands of men, doth such a condition as yours, bound and stay the limits of their wishes? Reform but yourself; by that you may do all: Whereas towards fortune you have no right or interest, but patience. Nulla placida quies est, Sen. ep. 56. ●●. nisi quam ratio composuit. There is no pleasing settled rest, but such as reason hath made-up. I see the reason of this advertisement, yea I perceive it well. But one should sooner have done and more pertinently, in one bare word to say unto me: Be wise. This resolution is beyond wisdom. It is her Work and her production. So doth the Physician, that is ever crying to a languishing, heartbroken sick-man, that he be merry and pull up a good hart; he should less foolishly persuade him if he did but bid him, To be healthy; as for me, I am but a man of the common stamp. It is a certain, sound and of easie-understanding precept: Be content with your own; that is to say with reason: the execution whereof notwithstanding is no more in the wiser sort, than in myself: It is a popular word, but it hath a terrible far-reaching extension. What comprehends it not? All things fall within the compass of discretion and modification. Well wot, that being taken according to the bare letter, the pleasure of travel brings a testimony of unquietness and irresolution. Which to say truth, are our mistress and predominant qualities. Yea, I confess it: I see nothing, be it but a dream or by wishing, whereon I may take hold. Only variety and the possession of diversity doth satisfy me: if at least any thing satisfy me. In travel this doth nourish me, that without interest I may stay myself; and that I have means commodiously to divert myself from it. I love a private life, because it is by mine own choice, that I love it, not by a diffidence or disagreeing from a public life; which peradventure is as much according to my complexion. I thereby serve my Prince more joifully and genuinely, because it is by the free election of my judgement and by my reason, without any particular obligation. And that I am not cast or forced thereunto, because I am unfit to be received of any other, or am not beloved: so of the rest. I hate those morsels that necessity doth carve me. Every commodity, of which alone I were to depend▪ should ever hold me by the throat: Alter remus aq●as, alter mihi radat are●as. Let me cut waters with one oar, Propert. li 3. ●l. 2. 23. With th'other shave the sandy shore. One string alone can never sufficiently hold me. You will say, there is vanity in this ammusement. But where not? And these goodly precepts are vanity, and Mere vanity is all worldly wisdom. Dominus novit cogitationes sapientum▪ quoniam vanae sunt. The Lords knows Psal. 93. 11. the thoughts of the wise, that they are vain. Such exquisite subtleties, are only fit for sermons. They are discourses, that will send us into the other World on horseback. Life is a material and corporal motion; an action imperfect and disordered, by its own essence: I employ or apply myself to serve it according to itself. Quisqu● suos pat●mur manes: ●●r. ●●n. l. 6. ●43. All of us for our merit, Have some attending spirit. Sic est faciendum, ut contra naturam universam nihil contendamus, ea tamen conservata, propriam Cic. Offic. lib. 1. sequamur. W● must so work, as we endeavour nothing against nature in general, yet so observe it, as we follow o●r own in special. To what purpose are these heaven-looking and nice points of Philosophy, on which no human being can establish and ground itself? And to what end serve these rules, that exceed our use and excel our strength? I often see, that there are certain Ideas or forms of life proposed unto us, which neither the proposer nor the Auditors have any hope at all to follow; and which is worse, no desire to attain. Of the same paper, whereon a judge writ but even now the condemnation against an adulterer, he will tear a scantlin, thereon to write some lovelines to his fellow-iudges wife. The same w●ma● from whom you came lately, and with whom you have committed that unlawfull-pleasing sport, will soon after, even in your presence, ratle and scold more bitterly against the same fauli in h●r neighbour, than ever Portia or Lucrece could. And some condemn men to di● for crimes, that themselves esteem no faults. I have in my youth seen a notable man with one hand to present the people most excellent and well-written verses, both for invention and extreme licentiousness; and with the other hand, at the same instant, the most sharpe-railing reformation, according to Divinity, that happily the World hath seen these many years. Thus goes the world, and so go men. We let the laws and precepts follow their way, but we keep another course: Not only by disorder of manners, but often by opinion and contrary judgement. Hear but a discourse of Philosophy read; the invention, the eloquence and the pertinency, doth presently tickle your spirit and move you. There is nothing tickleth or pricketh your conscience: it is not to her that men speak●▪ Is it not true? Ariston said, that Neither Bath nor Lecture are of any worth, except the one wash clean, and the other cleanse all filth away. One may busy himself about the bark, when once the pith is gotten out: As when we have drunk off the Wine, we consider the graving and workmanship of the cup. In all the parts of ancient Philosophy, this one thing may be noted, that one same workman publisheth some rules of temperance, and therewithal some compositions of love and licentiousness. And Xenophon in Cliniaes' bosom, writ against the Aristipp●an virtue. It is not a miraculous conversion, that so doth wave and hull them to and fro. But it is, that Solon doth sometimes represent himself in his own colours, and sometimes in form of a Lawgiver: now he speaketh for the multitude, and now for himself. And takes the free and natural rules to himself; warranting himself with a constant and perfect soundness. Curentur dubij medicis maioribus ●gri. Let patients in great doubt, ●ur. sat. 13. 124. Seek great Physicians out. Antisthenes' alloweth a wise man to love and do what he list, without respect of laws, especially in things he deemeth needful and sit: Forasmuch as he hath a better understanding than they, and more knowledge of virtue. His Disciple Diogenes said; To perturbations we should oppose, reason; to fortune, confidence: and to laws, nature: To dainty and tender stomachs, constrained and artificial or dinances. Good stomachs are simply served with the prescriptions of their natural appeti●●. So do our Physicians, who whilst they tie their patients to a strike't diet of a panada or a syrup, feed themselves upon a melon, dainty fruits, much good meat, and drink all manner of good Wine. I wot not what Books are, nor what they mean by wisdom and philosophy (quoth the Courtesan Lais) but sure I am, those kinds of people knock as often at my gates, as any other men. Because our licentiousness transports us commonly beyond what is lawful and allowed, our lives-precepts and laws have often been wrested or restrained beyond universal reason. Nemo satis credit tantum delinquere, quantum Inu. sat. 14. 233 Permittas. No man thinks it enough so far t'offend As you give lawful leave (and thereto end) It were to be wished, there were a greater proportion between commandment and obedience: And unjust seemeth that aim or goal whereto one cannot possibly attain. No man is so exquisitely honest or upright in living, but brings all his actions and thoughts within compass and danger of the laws; and that ten times in his life might not lawfully be hanged. Yea happily such a man, as it were pity and dangerously-hurtfull to lose, and most unjust to punish him. — Olle quid ad te, De cute quid faciat ille vel illa sua; Fool, what hast thou to do, what he or she Mart. li. 7. epig. 9 1. With their own skins or themselves doing be? And some might never offend the laws, that notwithstanding should not deserve the commendations of virtuous men: and whom philosophy might meritoriously and justly cause to be whipped. So troubled, dim-sighted and partial is this relation. We are far enough from being honest according to God: For, we cannot be such according to ourselves. human wisdom could never reach the duties, or attain the devoires it had prescribed unto itself. And had it at any time attained them, than would it doubtless prescribe some others beyond them, to which it might ever aspire and pretend. So great an enemy is our condition unto consistence. Man doth necessarily ordain unto himself to be in fault. He is not very crafty, to measure his duty by the reason of another being, than his own. To whom prescribes he that, which he expects no man will perform? Is he unjust in not doing that, which he cannot possibly achieve? The laws which conde●●e us, not to he able; condemn us for that we cannot perform. If the worst happen, this deformed liberty, for one to present himself in two places, and the actions after one fashion, the discourses after an other; is lawful in them, which report things: But it cannot be in them, that acknowledge themselves as I do. I must walk with my pen, as I go with my feet. The common high way must have conference with other ways. Cato's virtue was vigorous, beyond the reason of the age he lived in: and for a man that intermeddled with governing other men, destinated for the common service; it might be said to have been a justice, if not unjust, at least vain and out of season. Mine own manners, which scarce disagree one inch from those now currant, make me notwithstanding in some sort, strange, uncouth and unsociable to my age. I wot not, whether it be without reason, I am so distasted and out of liking with the world, wherein I live and frequent: but well I know, I should have small reason to complain, the world were distasted and out of liking with me, since I am so with it. The virtue assigned to the world's affairs, it is a virtue with sundry byases, turnings, bend and elbows, to apply and join itself to human imbecility: mixed and artificial: neither right, pure or costant, nor merely innocent. Our Annals even to this day, blamesome one of our Kings, to have over-simply suffered himself to be led or misled by the conscientious persuasions of his Confessor. Matters of state have more bold precepts. — exeat aula, L●ca●. bell. cir. lib. 8. 493. Qui vult esse pius. He that will godly be, From Court let him be free. I have heretofore assayed to employ my opinions and rules of life, as new, as rude, as impolished or as unpolluted, as they were naturally borne with me, or as I have attained them by my institution; and wherewith, if not so commodiously, at least safely in particular, I serve mine own turn, unto the service of public affairs and benefit of my Commonwealth: A scholastical and novice virtue; but I have found them very unapt and dangerous for that purpose. He that goeth in a ●resse or throng of people, must sometimes step aside, hold in his elbows, cross the way, advance himself, start back, and forsake the right way, according as it falls out: Live he not so much as he would himself, but as others will: not according to that he proposeth to himself, but to that which is proposed to him: according to times, to men and to affairs; and as the skilful Mariner, sail with the wind. Plato saith, that who escapes untainted and cleane-handed from the managing of the world; escapeth by some wonder. He says also, that when he suiteth his Philosopher as chief over a Commonwealth; he means not a corrupted or law-broken commonwealth, as that of Athens; and much less, as ours, with which wisdom herself would be brought to a nonplus, or put to her shifts. And a good herb, transplanted into a soil very divers from her nature, doth much sooner conform itself to the soil, than it reformeth the same to itself. I feelingly perceive that if I were wholly to enure myself to such occupations, I should require much change and great repairing. Which could I effect in me (and why not with time and diligence?) I would not. Of that little which in this vacation I have made triall-of, I have much distasted myself: I sometimes find certain temptations arise in my mind, towards ambition; but I start aside, bandy and opinionate myself to the contrary: At tu Catulle obstinatus obdura. Catul. ly●. p●●▪ 8. 19 Be thou at any rate, Obdurate, obstinate. I am not greatly called, and I invite myself as little unto it. Liberty and idleness, my chief qualities, are qualities diameterly contrary to that mystery. We know not how to distinguish men's faculties. They have certain divisions and limits uneasy and over nice to be chosen. To conclude by the sufficiency of a private life, any sufficiency for public use, it is ill concluded: Some one directs himself well, that cannot so well direct others; and composeth Essays, that could not work effects. Some man can dispose and order a siege, that could but ill command and marshal a battle: and discourseth well in private, that to a multitude or a Prince would make but a bad Oration. Yea peradventure, 'tis rather a testimony to him that can do one, that he cannot do the other, but otherwise. I find that high spirits are not much less apt for base things, then base spirits are for high matters. Could it be imagined, that Socrates would have given the Athenians cause to laugh at his own charges, because he could never justly count the suffrages of his tribe, and make report thereof unto the counsel? Truly the reverence I bear and respect I owe unto that man's perfections, deserveth that his fortune bring to the excuse of my principal imperfections, one so notable example. Our sufficiency is retailed into small parcels. Mine hath no latitude, and is in number very miserable. Saturninus answered those, who had conferred all authority upon him, saying. Oh you my fellow-soldiers, you have lost a good Captain, by creating him a bad General of an Army. Who in time of infection vaunteth himself, for the worlds-service, to employ a genuine or sincere virtue, either knows it not, (opinions being corrupted with manners; in good sooth, hear but them paint it forth, mark how most of them magnify themselves for their demeanours, and how they form their rules: in lieu of portraying virtue, they only set forth mere injustice and vice: and thus false and adulterate they present the same to the institution of Princes) or if he know it, he wrongfully boasteth himself; and whatever he saith, he doth many things whereof his own conscience accuseth him. I should easily believe Seneca, of the experience he made of it in such an occasion, upon condition he would freely speak his mind of it unto me. The honourablest badge of goodness in such a necessity, is ingenuously for a man to acknowledge both his own and others faults; to stay and with his might, hinder the inclination towards evil: and a-vie to follow this course, to hope and wish better. In these dismemberings or havocks of France, and divisions wherinto we are miserably fallen, I perceive every man travel and busy himself to defend his own cause, and the better sort, with much dissembling and falsehood. He that should plainly and roundly write of it, should write rashly and viciously. Take the best and justest part; what is it else but the member of a crazed, worm-eaten and corrupted body? But of such a body the member least sick, is called sound: and good reason why, because our qualities have no title but in comparison. Civil innocency is measured according to places and seasons. I would be glad to see such a commendation of Agesilaus in Xenophon, who being entreated of a neighbour Prince, with whom he had sometimes made war, to suffer him to pass through his country, was therewith well pleased; granting him free passage through Peloponnese, and having him at hi● mercy, did not only not emprison nor empoison him, but according to the tenor of his promise, without show or offence or unkindness, entertained him with all courtesy and humanity. To such humours, it were a matter of no moment: At other times and elsewhere, the liberty and magnanimity of such an action shall be highly esteemed. Our gullish Gaberdines would have mocked at it. So little affinity is there between the Spartan and the French innocency. We have notwithstanding some honest men amongst us; but it is after our fashion. He whose manners are in regularity established above the age he liveth-in; let him either wrest or muffle his rules: or (which I would rather persuade him) let him withdraw himself apart, and not meddle with us. What shall he gain thereby? Egregium sanctúmque virum sicerno, bimembri I●●e. sat. 13. 64. Hoc monstrum puero, & miranti iam sub aratro Piscibus inventis & foetae compare mulae. See I a man of holiness and virtues rare. To births bimembred, under wonderful ploughshare, Fish found, or moiles with fool, this moster I compare. One may bewail the better times, but not a void the present: one may desire other magistrates but notwithstanding he must obey those he hath: And happily it is more commendable to obey the wicked, than the good. So long as the image of the received, allowed and ancient laws of this Monarchy shall be extant and shine in any corner thereof; there will I be; there will I abide. And if by any disaster they shall chance to have contradiction or impeachment amongst themselves, and produce two factions, of doubtful or hard choice: my election shall be to avoid, And if I can escape this storm. In the mean while, either nature or the hazard of war, shal● lend me that helping hand. I should freely have declared myself between Caesar and Pompey. But between those three thieves which came after, where either one must have hid himself, or followed the wind: which I deem lawful, when reason swayeth no longer. Quo diversus abis? Virg. A●n. lib. 5 166. Whither have you recourse, So far out of your course? This mingle-mangle is somewhat beside my text. I straggle out of the path; yet is it rather by licence, then by unadvisedness: My fantasies follow one another: but sometimes a far-off, and look one at another; but with an oblique look. I have heretofore cast mine eyes upon some of Plato's Dialogues; bemolted with a fantastical variety: the first part treated of love, all the latter of Rhetoric. They fear not those variances; and have a wonderful grace in suffering themselves to be transported by the wind; or to seem so. The titles of my chapters, embrace not always the matter: they often but glance at it by some mark: as these others, Andria, Eunuchus; or these, Sylla, Cicero, Torquatus. I love a Poetical kind of march, by frisks, skips and jumps. It is an art (saith Plato) light, nimble, fleeting and light-brained. There are some treatises in Plutarch, where he forgets his theme, where the drift of his argument is not found but by incidencie and chance, all stuffed with strange matter. Mark but the vagaries in his Daemon of Socrates. Oh God▪ what grace hath the variation, and what beauty these start and nimble escapes; and then most, when they seem to imply carelessness and casualty: It is the unheedie and negligent reader, that looseth my subject, and not my life. Some word or other shall ever be found in a corner, that hath relation to it, though closely couched. I am indiscreetly and tumultuously at a fault; my style and wit are still gadding alike. A little folly is tolerable in him, that will not be more sottish; say our masters precepts, and more their examples. A thousand Poet's labour and languish after the prose-manner, but the best ancient prose, which I indifferently scatter here and there forver●e, shineth every where, with a poetical vigour and boldness, and representeth some air or touch of its fury: Verily she ought to have the mastery and pre-eminence given her in matters of speech. A Poet (saith Plato) seated on the Muse's footstool, doth in a fury powre-out whatsoever cometh in his mouth, as the pipe or cock of a fountain, without considering or ruminating the same: and many things escape him, diverse in colour, contrary in substance, and broken in course. Ancient Divinity is altogether Poesy (say the learned) and the first Philosophy. It is the original language of the Gods. I understand that the matter distinguisheth itself It sufficiently declareth where it changeth, where it concludeth, where it beginneth, and where it rejoineth; without enterlacing of words, joining ligaments & binding seams wrested-in for the service of weak and unattentive ears: and without glozing or expounding myself. What is he, that would not rather not be read at all, then read in drowsy and cursory manner: Nihil est tam utile, quod in transit● profit. There is nothing so profitable, that being lightly passed over, will do good. If to take books in hand were to learn them: and if to see, were to view them▪ and ●f to run them over, were to seize upon them, I should be to blame, to make myself altogether so ignorant as I say▪ Since I cannot stay the reader's attention by the weight: Manco male, if I happen to stay him by my intricate confusion: yea but he will afterward repent, that ever he ammused himself about it. You say true, but he shall have ammused himself upon it. And there be humours, to whom understanding causeth disdain, who because they shall not know what I mean will esteem me the better, and will conclude the mystery and depth of my sense by the obscurity: Which, to speak in good earnest, I hate as death, and would shun it▪ if I could avoid myself. Aristotle vaunteth in some place to affect the same. A vicious affectation. Forsomuch as the often breaking of my Chapters, I so much used in the beginning of my book, seemed to interrupt attention, before it be conceived: Disdaining for so little a while to collect and there seat itself: I have betaken myself to frame them longer; as requiring proposition and assigned leisure. In such an occupation, he to whom you will not grant one hour, you will allow him nothing. And you do nought for him, for whom you do, but in doing some other thing. Since peradventure I am particularly tied and precisely vowed, to speak by halves, to speak confusedly, to speak discrepantly. I therefore hate this trouble-feast reason: And these extravagant projects, which so much molest man's life, and these so subtle opinions, if they have any truth; I deem it over-deare, and find it too incommodious. On the other side, I labour to set forth vanity and make sottishness to prevail, if it bring me any pleasure. And without so nicely controlling them, I follow mine own natural inclinations. I have elsewhere seen some houses ruined, statues overthrown, both of heaven and of earth: But men be always one. All that is true: and yet I can not so often survey the vast ●oombe of that City so great, so populous and so puissant, but I as often admire and reverence the same. The care and remembrance of evils is recommended unto us. Now have I from my infancy been bred and brought up with these: I have had knowledge of the affairs of Rome, long time before I had notice of those of my house. I knew the Capitol, and its platform, before I knew Lovure, the palace of our Kings in Paris; and the River Tiber, before Seyne. I have more remembered and thought upon the fortunes and conditions of L●cullus, Metellus and Scipio, then of any of our countrymen▪ They are deceased, and so is my father, as fully as they: and is as distant from me and life in eighteen years as they were in sixteen hundred: Whose memory, amity and society, I notwithstanding omit not to continue, to embrace and converse withal, with a perfect and most lively union. Yea of mine own inclination, I am more officious toward the deceased. They can no longer help themselves; but (as me seemeth) they require so much the more my aid: There is Gratitude, and there appeareth she in her perfect lustre. A benefit is less richly assigned, where retrogradation and reflection is. Arcesilaus going to visit C●esibius that was sick, and finding him in very poor plight, fair and softly thrust some money under his bolster, which he gave him: And concealing it from him, left and gave him also a qnittance for ever being beholding to him. Such as have at any time deserved friendship, or love or thanks at my hands, never lost in the same, by being no longer with me. I have better paid and more carefully rewarded them, being absent and when they least thought of it. I speak more kindly and affectionately of my friends, when there is least means, that ever it shall come to their ears, I have heretofore undergone a hundred quarrels for the defence of P●mpey and Brutus his cause. This acquaintance continueth to this day between us. Even of present things we have no other hold, but by our fantazie. Perceiving myself unfit and unprofitable for this age, I cast myself to that other; And am so besotted with it that the state of the said ancient, free, just and flourishing Rome, (for I neither love the birth, nor like the old-age of the same) doth interest, concern and passionate me. And therefore can I not so often look into the situation of their streets and houses, and those wondrousstrange ruins, that may be said to reach down to the Antipodes, but so often must I ammuse myself on them. Is it Nature or by the error of fantasy, that the seeing of places, we know to have been frequented or inhabited by men, whose memory is esteemed or mentioned in stories, doth in some sort move and stir us up as much or more, than the hearing Ci●. s. de fin. of their noble deeds, or reading of their compositions? Tanta vis admonitionis inest in locis: Et id quidem in hac urbe infinitum; quacunque enim ingredimur, in aliquam historiam vestigium ponimus. So great a power of admonition is in the very place, And that in this City is most infinite; for which way soever we walk, we set our foot upon some History. I am much delighted with the consideration of their countenance, port and abiliments. I ruminate those glorious names between my teeth, and make mine ears to ring with the sound of them. Ego illos veneror, & tantis nominibus semper assurgo. I do reverence them, and at their names I do rise and make courtesy: Of things but in some sort great, strange and admirable, I admire their common parts. I could wish to see them walk and sup together, and hear their discourses. It were Ingratitude to despise, and impiety to neglect the relics or images of so many excellent, honest good men, and therewithal so valiant, which I have seen live and die: And who by their examples, had we the wit or grace to follow them, afford us so many notable instructions. And Rome as it stands now, deserveth to be loved: Confederated so long since, and sharing titles with our Crown of France: Being the only common and universal City: The Sovereign Magistrate therein commanding, is likewise known abroad in diverse other places. It is the chief Metropolitan City of all Christian Nations: Both French and Spaniards, and all men else are there at home. To be a Prince of that state, a man needs but be of Christendom, where ever it be seated. There's no place here on earth, that the Heavens have embraced with such influence of favours and grace, and with such constancy: Even her ruin is glorious with renown, and swollen with glory. Laudandis preciosior ruinis. Even made more honourable. By ruins memorable. Low-levelled as she lieth, and even in the tomb of her glory, she yet reserveth the lively image and regardful marks of Empire. Vt palam sit uno in loco gaudentis opus esse nature. So as it is clear, in one place is setforth the work of Nature in her jollity. Some one would blame himself, yea and mutiny, to feel himself tickled with so vain a pleasure. Our humours are not over vain, that be pleasant. Whatsoever they be, that constantly content a man capable of common understanding, I could not find in my heart to moan or pity him. I am much beholding to fortune, in as much as until this day, she hath committed nothing outrageously against me, or imposed any thing upon me, that is beyond my strength, or that I could not well bear. It is not haply her custom, to suffer such as are not importunate or over busy with her, to live in peace. Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit, A Dijs plura feret, nil cupientium, Nudus castra peto, multa petentibus, Hor c●●▪ lib. 3. ●d▪ 16▪ 2●. 42. Desunt multa. The more that men shall to themselves deny, The more the Gods will give them: threadbare I Follow the camp of them that nought desire, They still want much, that still do much require. If she continue so, I shall depart very well content and satisfied. — nihil supra Deos lacesso.— Hor. c●●. l. 2. ●d. 18. 11. More than will serve, to have Of Gods I do not crave. But beware the shock: thousands miscarry in the haven, and are cast away being nearest home. I am easily comforted with what shall happen here when I am gone. Things present trouble me sufficiently, and set me thoroughly a work. Fortunae caetera mando. Ovid. Metam ●. 2. 140. The rest I do commit To Fortune (as is fit.) Besides, I am not tied with that strong bond, which some say, binds men to future times, by the children bearing their names, and succeeding them in honours. And being so much to be desired, it may be I shall wish for them so much the less. I am by myself but overmuch ●●ed unto the world, and fastened unto life: I am pleased to be in Fortunes hold by the circumstances properly necessary to my state, without enlarging her jurisdiction upon me by other ways: And I never thought, that to be without children, were a defect, able to make man's life less complete and less contented. A barren state or sterile vacation, have also their peculiar commodities. Children are in the number of things, that need not greatly be desired; especially in these corrupted days, wherein it would be so hard a matter to make them good. Bona iam nec na●ci licet, ita corrupta sunt semina. We cannot now have good things so much as grow, the seeds are so corrupt. Yet have they just cause to moan them, that having once gotten, lose ●hem untimely. He who left me my house in charge, considering my humour, which was to stay at home so little, foresaw I should be the overthrow of it. He was deceived: I am now as I came unto it, if not somewhat better. And that, without any Office or Church-living; which are no small helps. As for other matters, if Fortune have offered me no violent or extraordinary offence, so hath she not showed me any great favour or extraordinary grace. Whatsoever I have belonging to it, that may properly be termed her gifts, was there before I came unto it; yea and a hundred years before. I particularly enjoy no essential good, or possess no sol●d benefit, that I owe unto her liberality: Indeed she hath bestowed some wind-pufft favours upon me, which may rather be termed titular and honourable in show, then in substance, or material: And which, in good truth, she hath not granted, but offered me. God he knows, to me, who am altogether material; not satisfied but with reality, which must also be massy and substantial: And who, if I durst confess it, would not think avarice much less exc●sable than ambition: nor grief less evitable, than shame: not health less desirable, than learning: or riches, less to be wished, than nobility. Amongst her vain favours, I have none doth so much please my fond self-pleasing conceit, as an authentic Bull, charter or patent of denizonship or borgeouship of Rome, which at my last being there, was granted me by the whole Senate of that City: garish and trimly adorned with goodly Seals, and written in fair golden Letters: bestowed upon me with all gracious and free liberality. And forsomuch as they are commonly conferred in diverse styles, more or less favourable: and that before I had ever seen any, I would have been glad to have had but a pattern or formular of one; I will for the satisfaction of any, if he fortune to be possessed with such a curiosity as mine, here set down the true copy or transcript of it: and thus it is. Quod Horatius Maximus, Martius Cecius, Alexander Mutus, almae urbis conservatores de Illustrissimo viro Michaele Montano, Equite sancti Michaëlis, & à Cubiculo Regis Christianissimi, Romana civitate donando, ad Senatum retulerunt, S. P. Q. R. de care ita fieri censuit. cum veteri more & instituto cupidè illi semper studios●que suscepti sint, qui virtute ac nobilitate praestantes, magno Reipublicae nostrae usui atque ornamento fuissent, vel esse aliquando possent: Nos maiorum nostrorum exempl● atque auctoritate permoti, praeclara● hanc Consuetudinem nobis imitandam ac servandam fore censemus. Quam●brem cum Illustrissimus Mich●el Montanus ●ques sancti Michaelis, & à cubiculo Regis Christianissimi; Romani nominis studiosissimus, & familiae laud atque splendore & proprijs virtutum merit is dignissimus ●it, qui summ● Senatus Populique Romani judicio ac studio in Romanam Civitatem adsciscatur, placere Senatui P. Q. R. Illustrissimum Michaelem Montanum rebus omnibus ornatissim●m, atque●uic inc●●to Pop●l● charissimum, ipsum posterosque in Rom. civitatem adscribi, ornarique omnibus & praemijs & hon●ribus, quibus illi fruuntur, qui Cives Patritijque Romans nati aut iure optimo facti sunt. In quo censere Senatum P. Q. R. se non tam illi Ius Civitatis largiri quam debitum tribuere, neque magis beneficium dare quam ab ips● accipere, qui hoc Civitatis munere accipiendo, singulari Civitatem ipsam ornamento atque hon●r● affecerit. Quam quidem S. C. auctoritatem ijdem Conservatores per Senatus P. Q. R. scribas in acta referri atque in Capitolij curia servari▪ privilegiumque huiusmodi fieri, solitoque urbis sigillo communiri curarunt. Anno ab urbe condita CX● CCC XXXI. post Christum natum M. D. LXXXI. III. Idus Martij. Horatius Fuscus sacri S. P. Q. R. scriba. Vincent. Martholus sacri S. P. Q. R. scriba. AT the motion of Horatius Maximus, Martius Cecius, Alexander Mutus, who are Conservators of this beautiful City▪ concerning the endenizing and making Citizen of Rome the noble Gentleman Michael de Montaigne, Knight of the Order of Saint Michael, and one of the Chamber of the most Christian King, the Senate & people of Rome thought good thereof thus to enact. Whereas by the ancient custom and good order, they have ever and with good will been entertained, who excelling in virtue and nobility have been, or at any time might be of any great use or ornament unto our commonweal: We, moved by example and authority of our Ancestors, decree, That this notable custom, by us should be ensued and observed. Wherefore, sithence the right Noble Michael de Montaigne, Knight of Saint Michael's Order, and one of the chamber of the most Christian King, both is most affectionate unto the Roman name, and by the commendations and splend●r of his pedigree, as also by the merits of his proper virtues, most worthy to be adopted and inserted into the Roman City with a special judgement and good will of the Senate and people of Rome: It pleaseth the Senate and people of Rome that the right noble Michael de Montaigne, adorned in all compliments, and wellbeloved of this famous Commonalty, both himself and his successors should be ascribed and infranchized into this Roman City, and be graced with all rewards and honours, which they enjoy, who either have been borne, or elected, either Citizens or Noble men of Rome. Wherein the Senate and people do decree, That they do not so much vouchsafe him the right of their City, as give him that is due unto him; nor do they rather give him a benefit, than receive it of him, who by accepting this gift of the City, doth countenance the City with a singular ornament and honour. Which Act and authority of the Senate's Decree, the said Conservators caused by the Clerks of the Senate and people to be registered and la●de-vp in the Capitol Court, and this Privilege to be made and signed with the cities usual Seal. In the year since the building of the City CX● CCC XXXI▪ after the birth of Christ a thousand five hundred eighty and one: the Ides of March. Horatius Fuscus, and Vincent Martholus Clarks of the sacred Senate and people of Rome. Being neither Burgeois nor denizen of any City, I am well pleased to be so, of the noblest and greatest that ever was heretofore, or ever shall be hereafter. If others did so attentively consider and survey themselves as I do, they should as I do, find themselves full of inanity, fondness or vanity. I can not be rid of it, except I rid and quit myself. We are all possessed and overwhelmed therewith, as well one as the other. But such as have a feeling of it, have somewhat the better bargain: And yet I am not sure of it. This common opinion and vulgar custom, to look and mark elsewhere then on ourselves, hath well provided for our affairs. It is an object full-fraught with discontent, wherein we see nothing but misery and vanity. To th'end we should not wholly be discomforted. Nature hath very fitly cast the action of our sight outward: We go forward according to the stream, but to turn our course back to ourselves, is a painful motion: the sea likewise is troubled, raging and disquieted, when 'tis turned and driven into itself. Observe (saith every one) the motions and brans●es of the heavens: take a survey of all: the quarrel of this man, the pulse of that man, and another's last testament: to conclude, behold and mark ever, high or low, right or oblique, before or behind you. It was a paradoxal commandment, which the God of Delphos laid heretofore upon us; Saying: View yourselves within; know yourselves; and keep you to yourselves: Your mind and your will, which elsewhere is consumed, bring it unto itself again: you scatter, you straggle, you stray, and you distract yourselves: call yourselves home again; rouse and uphold yourselves: you are betrayed, you are spoiled and dissipated; yourselves are stolen and taken from yourselves. Seest thou not how all this universe holdeth all his sights compelled inward, and his eyes open to contemplate itself? Both inward and outward it is ever vanity for thee; but so much less vanity, by how much less it is extended. Except thyself, Oh man, (said that God) every thing doth first seek and study itself, and according to its need hath limits to her travels, and bounds to her desires. There's not one so shallow, so empty, and so meedy as thou art who embracest the whole world: Thou art the Scrutator without knowledge, the magistrate without juridisdiction: and when all is done, the vice of the play. The tenth Chapter. How one ought to govern his will. IN regard of the common sort of men, few things touch me, or (to speak properly) sway me: For it is reason they touch, so they possesse-us not. I have great need, both by study and discourse, to increase this privilege of insensibility, which is naturally crept far into me. I am not wedded unto many things, and by consequence, not passionate of them. I have my sight clear, but tied to few objects: My senses delicate and gentle; but my apprehension and application hard and dull: I engage myself with difficulty. As much as I can, I employ myself wholly to myself. And in this very subject, I would willingly bridle and uphold mine affection, lest it be too far plunged therein; Seeing it is a Subject I possess at the mercy of others, and over which fortune hath more interest than myself. So as even in my health, which I so much esteem, it were requisite not to desire, nor so carefully to seek it, as thereby I might light upon intolerable diseases. We must moderate ourselves, betwixt the hate of pain, and the love of pleasure. Plato sets down a mean course of life between both. But to affections that distract me from myself, and divert me elsewhere; surely, to such I oppose myself with all my force. Mine opinion is, that one should lend himself to others, and not give himself but to himself. Were my will easy to engage or apply itself, I could not continue: I am over tender both by nature and custom, ●ugax rerum, secur áque in otia natus. Avoiding active business, Ovid. trist. li. 3. ●●. ●. 9 And borne to secure idleness. Contested and obstinate debates, which in the end would give mine adversary advantage, the issue which would make my earnest pursuit ashamed, would perchance torment me cruelly. If I vexed as other men, my soul should never have strength to bear th'alarums and emotions, that follow such as embrace much. She would presently be displaced by this intestine agitation. If at any time I have been urged to the managing of strange affairs, I have promised to undertake them with my hand, but not with my lungs, and liver; to charge, and not to incorporate them into me; to have a care, but nothing at all to be over passionate of them: I look to them, but I hatch them not. I work enough to dispose and direct the domestical troubles within mine own entrails and veins, without harbouring, or importune myself with any foreign employments: And am sufficiently interessed with my proper, natural and essential affairs, without seeking others businesses. Such as know how much they owe to themselves; and how many offices of their own they are bound to perform, shall find that nature hath given them this commission fully ample and nothing idle. Thou hast business enough within thyself, therefore stray not abroad: Men give themselves to hire. Their faculties are not their own, but theirs to whom they subject themselves; their inmates, and not themselves, are within them. This common humour doth not please me. We should thriftily husband our minds liberty, and never engage it but upon just occasions; which if we judge impartially, are very few in number. Look on such as suffer themselves to be transported and swayed, they do it every where. In little as well as in great matters; to that which concerneth, as easy as to that which toucheth them not. They thrust themselves indifferently into all actions, and are without life, if without tumultuary agitation. In negotijs sunt, negotij causa. They are busy that they may not be idle, or else in action for actions sake. They seek work but to be working. It is not so much because they will go, as for that they cannot ●●and still. Much like to a rolling stone, which never stays until it come to a lying place. To some men, employment is a mark of sufficiency and a badge of dignity. Their spirits seek rest in action, as infants repose in the cradle, They my be said, to be as serviceable to their friends, as importunate to themselves. No man distributes his money to others, but every one his life and time. We are not so prodigal of any thing, as of those whereof to be covetous would be both commendable and profitable for us. I follow a clean contrary course, I am of another complexion: I stay at home and look to myself. What I wish for, I commonly desire the same but mildly; and desire but little: so likewise I seldom employ and quietly embusie myself, What ever they intent and act, they do it with all their will and vehemency. There are so many dangerous steps, that for the more security, we must somewhat slightly and superficially slide through the world, and not force it. Pleasure itself is painful in its beight. — incedis per ignes, Hor. car. l. 2. od. 1. 7. Subpositos cineri doloso. You pass through fire (though unfraid) Under deceitful ashes laid. The town counsel of Bourdeaux chose me Mayor of their City, being far from France; but further from any such thought. I excused myself and would have avoided it. But they told me I was to blame; the more, because the king's commandment was also employed therein. It is a charge, should seem so much the more goodly, because it hath neither fee nor reward, other than the honour in the execution. It lasteth two years, but may continue longer by a second election, which seldom happeneth. To me it was, and never had been but twice before: Some years p●st the Lord of Lansac; and lately to the Lord of Byron, Martial of France. In whose place I succeeded; and left mine to the Lord of Matigon, likewise Marshal of France. Glorious by so noble an assistance. Vterque bonus pacis bellique minister. Both, both in peace and war, Right serviceable are. Fortune would have a share in my promotion by this particular circumstance, which she of her own added thereunto; not altogether vain. For Alexander disdained the Corinthian Ambassadors, who offered him the freedom and Burgeoise of their City, but when they told him that Bacchus and Hercules were likewise in their registers, he kindly thanked them and accepted their offer. At my first arrival, I faithfully deciphered and conscientiously displayed myself, such as I am indeed: without memory, without diligence, without experience and without sufficiency; so likewise without hatred, without ambition, without covetousness and without violence: that so they might be duly instructed what service they might, or hope, or expect at my hands. And forsomuch as the knowledge they had of my deceased father, and the honour they bore unto his memory, had moved them to choose me to that dignity, I told them plainly, I should be very sorry, that any man should work such an opinion in my will, as their affairs and City had done in my fathers, while he held the said government, whereunto they had called me. I remembered to have seen him being an infant, and he an old man, his mind cruelly turmoiled with this public toil; forgetting the sweet air of his own house, whereunto the weakness of his age had long before tied him; neglecting the care of his health and family, in a manner despising his life, which as one engaged for them, he much endangered, riding long and painful journeys for them. Such a one was he: which humour proceeded from the bounty and goodness of his nature. Never was mind more charitable or more popular. This course, which I commend in others, I love not to follow: Neither am I without excuse. He had heard, that a man must forget himself for his neighbour: that in respect of the general, the particular was not to be regarded. Most of the worldes-rules and precepts hold this train, to drive us out of ourselves into the wide world, to the use of public society. They presumed to work a goodly effect, in distracting and withdrawing us from ourselves: supposing we were by a natural instinct, tootoo much tied unto it: and to this end have not spared to say any thing. For to the wise it is no novelty, to preach things as they serve, and not as they are. Truth hath her lets, discommodities and incompatibilities with us. We must not often deceive others, lest we beguile ourselves. And ●eele our eyes, and dull our understanding, thereby to repair and amend them. Imperiti enimiudicant, & qui frequenter in hoc ipsum fallendi sunt, ne errent. For unskilful meniudge, who must often even therefore be deceived, lest they err and be deceived. When they prescribe us, to love three, four yea fifty degrees of things before ourselves, they present us with the Art of shooters who to come nearer the mark take their aim far above the same. To make a crooked stick strait, we bend it the contrary way. I suppose that in the times of Pallas, as we see in all other religions, they had some apparent mysteries, of which they made show to all the people; and others more high and secret, to be imparted only to such as were professed. It is likely, that the true point of friendship, which every man oweth to himself, is to be found in these. Not a false amity, which makes us embrace glory, knowledge, riches and such like, with a principal and immoderate affection, as members of our being; nor an effeminate and indiscrecte friendship; Wherein happeneth as to the Ivy, which corrupts and ruins the Walls it claspeth: But a sound and regular amity, equally profitable and pleasant. Who so understandeth all her duties and exerciseth them, he is rightly endenized in the Muse's cabinet: He hath attained the type of human Wisdom and the perfection of our happiness. This man knowing exactly what he oweth to himself, findeth, that he ought to employ the use of other men and of the world unto himself; which to perform, he must contribute the duties and offices that concern him unto public society. He that lives not somewhat to others, liveth little to himself. Qui sibi amicus est, scito hunc amicum omnibus esse; He that is friend to himself, know, he is friend to all. The principal Sin. epist. 6. f. charge we have, is every man his particular conduct. And for this only we live here. As he that should forget to live well and religiously, and by instructing and directing others, should think himself acquitted of his duty; would be deemed a fool: Even so, who forsaketh to live healthy and merrily himself, therewith to serve another, in mine opinion taketh a bad and unnatural course. I will not, that in any charge one shall take in hand, he refuse or think much of his attention, of his labour of his steps, of his speech, of his sweat, and if need be of his blood, — nonipse pro charis amicis, Aut patria timidus perire. Hor. car. l. 4. od. 9 51. Not fearing life to end For Country or dear friend. But it is only borrowed and accidentally; The mind remaining ever quiet and in health: not without action, but without vexation or passion. Simply to move or be doing, costs it so little, that even sleeping it is moving and doing. But it must have its motion with discretion. For the body receiveth the charges imposed him, justly as they are: But the spirit extendeth them, and often to his hindrance makes them heavy; giving them what measure it pleaseth. Like things are effected by diverse effortes and different contentions of will. The one may go without the other. For, how many men do daily hazard themselves in war which they regard not, and press into the danger of battles, the loss whereof shall no whit break their next sleep? Whereas some man in his own house, free from this danger, which he durst not so much as have looked towards it, is for the Wars issue more passionate, and therewith hath his mind more perplexed, than the soldier, that therein employeth both his blood and life. I know how to deal in public charges, without departing from myself the breadth of my nail; and give myself to an other, without taking me from myself: This sharpness and violence of desires hindereth more, than stead the conduct of what we undertake, filling us with impatience to the events, either contrary or slow: and with bitterness and jealousy toward those with whom we negotiate. We never govern that thing well, wherewith we are possessed and directed. — Malè cuncta ministrat Impetus.— Fury and haste do lay all waste; Misplacing all, disgracing all, He who therein employeth but his judgement and direction, proceeds more cheerfully: he feigns, he yields, he defers at his pleasure according to the occasions of necessity: he fails of his attempt, without torment or affliction: ready and prepared for a new enterprise. He marcheth always with the reins in his hand. He that is besotted with this violent and tyrannical intention, doth necessarily declare much indiscretion and injustice. The violence of his desire transports him. They are rash motions, and if fortune help not much, of little fruit. Philosophy wills us to banish choler in the punishment of offences; not to the end revenge should be more moderate, but contrary, more weighty and surely set on: whereunto this violence seemeth to be a let. Choler doth not only trouble, but wearieth the executioners arms. This passionate heat dulleth and consumes their force. As in too much speed, festinatio tarda est; Hastiness is slow. Haste makes waste, and hinders and stays itself: Ipsa se velocitas implicat; Swiftness entangles itself. As for example, according as by ordinary custom I perceive, covetousness hath no greater let, than itself. The more violent and extended it is, the less effectual and fruitful. Commonly it gathers wealth more speedily being masked with a show of liberality. A very honest Gentleman and my good friend, was likely to have endangered the health of his body, by an over passionate attention and earnest affection to the affairs of a Prince, who was his Master. Which Master hath thus described himself unto me: That as another, he discerneth and hath a feeling of the burden of accidents: but such as have no remedy, he presently resolveth to suffer with patience: For the rest, after he hath appointed necessary provisions, which by the vivacity and nimbleness of his wit he speedily effects, he than attends the event with quietness. Verily, I have seen in him at one instant a great carelessness and liberty, both in his actions and countenance: Even in important and difficult affairs. I find him more magnanimous and capable, in bad then in good fortune. His losses are to him more glorious, than his victories; and his mourning than his triumphs. Consider how in mere vain and frivolous actions, as at chess, tennis and such like sports, this earnest and violent engaging with an ambitious desire to win, doth presently cast both mind and limbs into disorder and indiscretion. Wherein a man doth both dazzle his sight and distemper his whole body. He who demeaneth himself with most moderation both in winning and losing, is ever necrest unto himself, and hath his wits best about him. The less he is moved or passionate in play, the more safely doth he govern the same, and to his greater advantage. We hindet the minds seazure and holdfast, by giving her so many things to seize upon. Some we should only present unto her, others fasten upon her, and others incorporate into her. She may see and feel all things, but must only feed on herself: And be instructed in that which properly concerneth her, and which merely belongeth to her essence and substance. The laws of nature teach us what is just and fit for us. After the wisemen have told us, that according to nature no man is indigent or wanteth, and that eachone is poor but in his own opinion, they also distinguish subtly, the desires proceeding from Nature, from such as grow from the disorders of our fantasy. Those whose end may be discerned are merely hers; and such as fly before us and whose end we cannot attain, are properly ours. Want of goods may easily be cured, but the poverty of the mind, is incurable. Nam si, quod satis est homini, id satis esse potesset, Hoc sat erat; nunc, quum hoc non est, qui credimus porro Divitias ullas animum mi explere potesse? If it might be enough, that is enough for man, This were enough, since it is not, how think we can Now any riches fill My mind and greedy will? Socrates seeing great store of riches, jewels and precious stuff carried in pomp through his City: Oh how many things (quoth he) do not I desire! Metrodorus lived daily with the weight of twelve ounces of food: Epicurus with less: Metrocles in winter lay with sheep, and in summer in the Cloisters of Churches. Sufficit ad id natura, quod poscit. Nature is sufficient Sen. epist. 90. for that which it requires. Cleanthes lived by his hands, and boasted, that if Cleanthes would, he could nourish another Cleanthes. If that which Nature doth exactly and originally require at our hands, for the preservation of our being, is over little (as in truth what it is, and how good cheap our life may be maintained, cannot better be known or expressed than by this consideration. That it is so little, and for the smallness thereof, it is out of Fortune's reach, and she can take no hold of it) let us dispense something else unto ourselves, and call the custom and condition of every▪ one of us by the name of Nature. Let us tax and stint and feed ourselves according to that measure; let us extend both our appurtenances and reckonings thereunto. For so far, me seems, we have some excuse: Custom is a second Nature, and no less powerful▪ What is wanting to custom, I hold it a defect: And I had well nigh as lief one should deprive me of my life, as refrain or much abridge me of the state wherein I have lived so long. I am no more upon terms of any great alteration nor to thrust myself into a new and unusual course, no not toward augmentation: it is no longer time to become other or be transformed. And as I should complain if any great adventure should now befall me, and grieve it came not in time that I might have enjoyed the same. Quo mihi fortuna, si non concedit ur uti? H●rl. 1. epist. 5. 12. Whereto should I have much, If I to use it grudge? I should likewise be grieved at any inward purchase: I were better in a manner, never, than so late, to become an honest man: and well practised to live, when one hath no longer life. I who am ready to depart this World, could easily be induced, to resign the share of wisdom I have learned, concerning the World's commerce, to any other man newcome into the world. It is even as good as Mustard after dinner. What need have I of that good, which I cannot enjoy? Whereto serveth knowledge, if one have no head? It is an injury and disgrace of Fortune, to offer us those presents, which, forsomuch as they fail us when we should most need them, fill us with a just spite. Guide me no more: I can go no longer. Of so many dismemberings that Sufficiency hath, patience sufficeth us. Give the capacity of an excellent treble to a Singer, that hath his lungs rotten; & of eloquence to an Hermit confined into the Deserts of Arabia. There needs no Art to further a fall. The end finds itself in the finishing of every work. My world is at an end, my form is expired. I am wholly of the time past. And am bound to authorize the same, and thereto conform my issue. I will say this by way of example; that the eclipsing or abridging of ten days, which the Pope hath lately caused, hath taken me so low, that I can hardly recover myself. I follow the years, wherein we were wont to count otherwise. So long and ancient a custom doth challenge and recall me to it again. I am thereby enforced to be somewhat an heretic: Incapable of innovation, though corrective. My imagination ma●gre my teeth runs still ten days before, or ten behind; and whispers in mine ●ares: This rule toucheth those, which are to come▪ If health itself so sweetely-pleasing, comes to me but by fits, it is rather to give me cause of grief than possession of itself. I have no where left me to retire it. Time forsakes me without which nothing is enjoyed. How small account should I make of these great elective dignities I see in the world, and which are only given to men, ready to leave the world! wherein they regard not so much how duly they shall discharge them, as how little they shall exercise them: from the beginning they look to the end. To conclude, I am ready to finish this man, not to make another. By long custom, this form is changed into substance, and Fortune into Nature. I say therefore, that amongst us feeble creatures, each one is excusable to count that his own, which is comprehended under measure. And yet all beyond these limits, is nothing but confusion. It is the largest extension we can grant our rights. The more we amplify our need and possession, the more we engage ourselves to the crosses of fortune and adversities. The career of our desires must be circumscribed, and tied to strict bounds of nearest and contiguous commodities. Moreover, their course should be managed, not in a strait line, having another end, but round, whose two points hold together, and end in ourselves with a short compass. The actions governed without this reflection, I mean a near and essential reflection, as these of the covetous, of the ambitious and so many others, that run directly pointblank, the course of which carrieth them away before them, are erroneous and crazed actions. Most of our vacations are like plays. Mundus universus exercet histrioniam. All the world doth practise stage-playing. We must play our parts duly, but as the part of a borrowed parsonage. Of a vizard and appearance, we should not make a real essence, nor proper of that which is another. We cannot distinguish the skin from the shirt. It is sufficient to disguise the face, without deforming the breast. I see some transform and transubstantiate themselves, into as many new forms and strange beings, as they undertake charges: and who emprelate themselves even to the heart and entrails; and entraine their offices even sitting on their close stool. I cannot teach them to distinguish the salutations and cappings of such as regard them, from those that respect either their office, their train or their mule. Tantum se fortunae permitunt, etiam ut naturam dediscant. They give themselves so much over to Fortune, as they forget Nature. They swell in mind and puff up their natural discourse, according to the dignity of their office. The Mayor of Bourdeaux, and Michael Lord of Montaigne, have ever been two, by an evident separation. To be an advocate or a Treasurer, one should not be ignorant of the craft incident to such callings. An honest man is not comptable for the vice and folly of his trade, and therefore ought not to refuse the exercise of it. It is the custom of his country; and there is profit in it. We must live by the world, and such as we find it, so make use of it. But the judgement of an Emperor should be above his Empire; and to see and consider the same as a strange accident. He should know how to enjoy himself apart; and communicate himself as james and Peter; at least to himself. I cannot so absolutely or so deeply engage myself. When my will gives me to any party, it is not with so violent a bond, that my understanding is thereby infected. In the present intestine trouble of our State, my interest hath not made me forget neither the commendable qualities of our adversaries, nor the reproachful of those I have followed. They partially extol what ever is on their side: I do not so much as excuse the greater number of my friends-actions. A good Orator looseth not his grace by pleading against me. The inticratenesse of our debate removed, I have maintained myself in equanimity and pure indifferency. Neque extra necessitates belli, praecipuum odium gero, Nor bear I capital hatred, when I am out of the necessity of war. Wherein I glory, for that commonly I see men err in the contrary. Such as extend the choler and hatred, beyond their affairs (as most men do) show that it proceeds elsewhence, and from some private cause: Even as one being cured of an ulcer, and his fever remaineth still, declareth it had another more hidden beginning. It is the reason they bear none unto the cause, in general: and forsomuch as it concerneth the interest of all, and of the state: But they are vexed at it, only for this; that it toucheth them in private. And therefore are they distempered with a particular passion, both beyond justice and public reason. Non tam omnia universi, quam ea, qua ad quemque pertinent, singuli carpebant. All did not so much find fault withal, as every one with those that appertained to every one. I will have the advantage to be for us, which though it be not, I enrage not. I stand firmly to the ●ounder parts. But I affect not to be noted a private enemy to others, and beyond general reason, I greatly accuse this vicious form of obstinate contesting: He is of the League, because he admireth the grace of the Duke of Guise: or he is a Hugonote, forsomuch as the King of Navarres activity amazeth him: He finds fault in the King's behaviours, therefore he is seditious in his heart. I would not give the magistrate my voice, that he had reason to condemn a book, because an heretic was therein named and extolled to be one of the best Poets of this age. Dare we not say that a thief hath a good leg? if he have so indeed; If she be a strumpet, must she needs have a stinking breath? In wiser ages, revoked they the proud title of Capitolinus, they had formely given to Marcus Manlius, as the preserver of religion and public liberty? Suppressed they the memory of his liberality, his deeds of arms and military rewards granted to his virtues, because to the prejudice of his country's laws, he afterward affected a Royalty? If they once conceive a hatred against an Orator or an advocate, the next day he becometh barbarous and uneloquent. I have elsewhere discoursed of zeal, which hath driven good men into like errors. For myself, I can say: that he doth wickedly, and this virtuously. Likewise, in prognostickes or sinister events of affairs, they will have every man blind or dull in his own cause: and that our persuasion and judgement, serve not the truth but the project of our desires. I should rather err in the other extremity; So much I fear my desire might corrupt me. Considering, I somewhat tenderly distrust myself in things I most desire. I have in my days seen wonders, in the indiscreet and prodigious facility of people, suffering their hopes and beliefs, to be led and governed, as it hath pleased and best fitted their leaders: above a hundred discontents, one in the neck of another: and beyond their fantasies and dreams. I wonder no more at those, whom the apish toys of Apollonius and Mahomet have seduced and blinded. Their sense and understanding is wholly smothered in their passion. Their discretion hath no other choice but what pleaseth them and furthereth their cause. Which I had especially observed in the beginning of our distempered factions and factious troubles. This other which is grown since, by imitation surmounteth the same. Whereby I observe, that it is an inseparable quality of popular errors. The first being gone, opinions entershocke one another, following the wind, as waves do. They are no members of the body, if they may renounce it; if they follow not the common course. But truly they wrong the just parts, when they seek to help them with fraud or deceits. I have always contradicted the same. This mean is but for sick brains: The healthy have surer and honester ways to maintain their resolutions and excuse all contrary accidents. The Heavens never saw so weighty a discord and so harmful a hatred, as that between Caesar and Pompey; nor ever shall hereafter: Me seemeth notwithstanding, I see in those noble and Heroical minds, an exemplar and great moderation of the one toward the other. It was a jealousy of honour and emulation of command, which transported them, not to a furious and indiscreet hatred; without malice or detraction. In their sharpest exploits, I discover some relics of respect and cinders of well-meaning affection. And I imagine, that had it been possible, either of them desired rather to effect his purpose without overthrowing his competitor, than by working his utter ruin. Note how contrary the proceeding was between Sylla and Marius. We must not run headlong after our affections and private interests. As in my youth, I ever opposed myself to the motions of love, which I felt to usurp upon me; and laboured to diminish its delights, lest in the end it might vanquish and captivate me to his mercy: So do I now in all other occasions, which my will apprehendeth with an over great appetite. I bend to the contrary of my disposition, as I see the same plunged and drunk with its own Wine. I shun so far forth to nourish her pleasure, as I may not revoke it without a bloody loss. Those minds which through stupidity see things but by halves, enjoy this happiness, that such as be hurtful, offend them least: It is a spiritual leprosy, that hath some show of health; and such a health, as Philosophy doth not altogether contemn. But yet it may not lawfully be termed wisdom; as we often do. And after this manner did in former times some body mock Diogenes, who in the dead of Winter, went all naked, embracing an image of snow, to try his patience; Who meeting him in this order, said thus unto him; Art thou now very cold; Nothing at all, answered Diogenes. What thinkest thou to do then, that is either hardor exemplar by standing in the cold? replied the other: To measure constancy, we must necessarily know sufferance, But such minds as must behold cross events, and fortunes injuries in their height and sharpness, which must weigh and taste them according to their natural bitterness and charge; let them employ their skill and keep themselves from embracing the causes, and divert their approaches. What did King Cotys? He paid liberally for that goodly and rich Vessel, which one had presented unto him, but forsomuch as it was exceeding brittle, he presently broke it himself, that so betimes he might remove so easy an occasion of choler against his servants. I have in like sort shunned confusion in my affairs, and sought not to have my goods contiguous to my neighbours, and to such as I am to be linked in strict friendship: Whence commonly ensue causes of alienation and unkindness. I have heretofore loved the hazardous play of Cards and Dice; I have long since left it, only for this that notwithstanding any fair semblance I made in my losses, I was inwardly disquieted. Let a man of honour, who is to take a lie or endure an outrageous wrong, and cannot admit a bad excuse for payment or satisfaction, avoid the progress of contentious altercations. I shun melancholic complexions and froward men, as infected. And in matters, I cannot talke-of without interest and emotion, I meddle not with them, except duty constrain me thereunto. Melius non incipient, quam desinent. They shall better not begin, than leave off. The surest way, is then to prepare ourselves before occasion. I know that some wisemen have taken another course; and have not feared to engage and vehemently to insinuate themselves into divers objects. Those assure themselves of their own strength, under which they shroud themselves against all manner of contrary events, making mischiefs to wrestle one against another, by vigour and virtue of patience: Velut rupes vastum quae prodit in aequor, Virg. Aen. l. 10. 693. Obvia ventorum furijs, expostáque ponto, Vim cunctam atque minas perfert caelique marisque, —— ipsa immota manens. Much like a rock, which but's into the Main, Meeting with windes-rage, to the Sea laid plain, It doth the force of skies and Seas sustain, Endure their threats, yet do th' vnmooved remain. Let us not imitate these examples, we shall not attain them. They opinionate themselves resolutely to behod, and without perturbation to be spectators of their Country's ruin, which whilom possessed and commanded their full will. As for our vulgar minds, therein is too much effort and roughness. Cato quit thereby the noblest life that ever was. We seely-ones must seek to escape the storm further off: We ought to provide for apprehension and not for patience, and avoid the blows we cannot withstand. Zeno seeing Chremonides a young man whom he loved, approach to sit near him; rose up suddenly. Cleanthes ask him the reason? I understand (said he) that Physicians above all things prescribe rest, and forbid emotion in all tumours. Socrates saith not; yield not to the allurements of beauty; maintain it, enforce yourselves to the contrary: Shun her (saith he) run out of her sight and company; as from a violent poison, that infecteth and stingeth far-off. And his good Disciple, feigning or reciting, but in mine opinion, rather reciting then feigning, the matchless perfections of that great Cyrus, describeth him distrusting his forces to withstand the blandishments or allure of the divine beauty of that famous Panthea his Captive, committing the visitation and guard of her to an other, that had less liberty than himself. And likewise the Holy-Ghost saith ne nos inducas in tentationem, Matth. 6. 13. and lead us not into temptation. We pray not that our reason be not encountered and vanquished by concupiscence: but that it be not so much as assayed therewith: That we be not reduced to an estate, where we should but suffer the approaches, solicitations and temptations of sin: and we entreat our Lord, to keep our conscience quiet, fully and perfectly free from all commerce of evil. Such as say they have reason for their revenging passion, or any other minde-troubling perturbation: say often truth, as things are, but not as they were. They speak to us, when the causes of their error are by themselves fostered and advanced. But retire further backward, recall their causes to their beginning: there you surprise and put them to a non plus. Would they have their fault be less, because it is more ancient; and that of an unjust beginning, the progress be just? He that (as I do) shall wish his country's welfare, without fretting or pining himself, shall be grieved, but not swoon, to see it threatening, either his own downfall, or a continuance no less ruinous. Oh seely-weake bark, whom both waves, winds and Pilot, hull and toss to so contrary designs! — in tam diversa, magister, Ventus & unda trahunt.— Master the wave and wind So divers ways do bind. Who gapes not after the favour of Princes, as after a thing without which he cannot live; nor is much disquieted at the coldness of their entertainment or frowning countenance nor regardeth the inconstancy of their will. Who hatcheth not his children or huggeth not honours, with a slavish propension; nor leaves to live commodiously having once lost them. Who doth good, namely for his own satisfaction, nor is much vexed to see men censure of his actions against his merit. A quarter of an ounce of patience provideth for such inconveniences. I find ease in this receipt: redeeming myself in the beginning, as good cheap as I can: By which means I perceive myself to have escaped much trouble and manifold difficulties. With very little force, I stay these first motions of my perturbations: And I abandon the subject which begins to molest me, and before it transport me. He that stops not the loose, shall hardly stay the course. He that cannot shut the door against them, shall never expel them being entered. He that cannot attain an end in the beginning, shall not come to an end of the conclusion. Nor shall he endure the fall, that could not endure the starts of it. Etenim Cic. Tasc. q●. l. 4. ipsae se impellunt, ubi semel à ratione discessum est; ipsáque sibi imbecillit as indulget, in altumque provehitur imprudens: nec reperit locum consistendi. For they drive themselves headlong, when once they are parted and past reason; and weakness soothes itself, and unawares is carried into the deep, nor can it find a place to tarry in. I feel betimes, the low winds, which are forerunners of the storm, buzz in mine ears and sound and try me within: — c●● flamina prima cum deprensa fr●munt sylvis, & c●ca volutant Virg. Aen. l. 10. 97. Murmura, venturos nautis prodentia ventos. As first blasts in the woods perceived to go Whistle, and darkly speak in murmurs low, Foretelling Mariners what winds will grow. How often have I done myself an apparent injustice, to avoid the danger I should fall into, by receiving the same, happily worse, from the judges, after a world of troubles, and of foul, and vile practices, more enemies to my natural disposition, than fire or torment? Convenit a litibus quantum licet, & nescso an paulo plus etiam quam licet, abhorrentem esse; Est C●●. off. lib. enim non mo●● liberale, paululum non nunquam de suo iure decedere, sed interdum etiam fructuosum. As much as we may, and it may be more than we may, we should abhor brabbling and lawing; for it is not only an ingenious part, but sometimes profitable also at sometimes to yield a little of our right. If we were wise indeed, we should rejoice and glory, as I heard once a yonggentleman, borne of a very great house, very wittily and unfeignedly, rejoice with all men that his mother had lost her suit; as if it had been a cough, an ague, or any other irksome burden. The favours, which fortune might have given me, as alliances and acquaintances with such as have Sovereign authority in those things; I have, in my conscience done much instantly to evoide employing them to others prejudice, and not overvalue my rights above their worth. To conclude, I have so much prevailed by my endeavours (in a good hour I may speak it) that I am yet a virgin for any suits in law, which have notwithstanding not omitted gently to offer me their service, and under pretence of lawful titles insinuate themselves into my allowance, would I but have given ear unto them. And as a pure maiden from quarrels; I have without important offence, either passive or active, lingered out a long life, and never heard worse than mine own name▪ A rare grace of heaven. Our greatest agitations, have strange springs and ridiculous causes. What ruin did our last Duke of Burgundy run into, for the quarrel of a cartload of sheepes-skinnes? And was not the graving of a seal, the chief cause of the most horrible breach and topsy-turvy, that ever this worlds-frame endured? For, Pompey and Caesar are but the new buddings and continuation of two others. And I have seen in my time, the wisest heads of this realm assembled with great ceremony and public charge, about treaties and agreements, the true deciding whereof depended in the mean while absolutely and soveraignely of the will and consultations held in some Lady's pate or cabinet; and of the inclination of some silly woman. Poets have most judiciously looked into this, who but for an apple have set all Greece and Asia on fire and sword. See why that man doth hazard both his honour and life on the fortune of his rapier and dagger; let him tell you whence the cause of that contention ariseth; he can not without blushing; so vain and so frivolous is the occasion. To embark him, there needs but little advisement, but being oncein, all parts do work; Then are greater provisions required, more difficult and important. How far more easy is it not to enter, than to get forth? We must proceed contrary to the brier, which produceth a long and strait stalk at the first springing; but after, as tired and out of breath, it makes many and thick knots, as if they were pauses, showing to have no more that vigour and constancy. We should rather begin gently and leisurely; and keep our strength and breath for the perfection of the work. We direct affairs in the beginning, and hold them at our mercy, but being once undertaken, they guide and transport us, and we must follow them. Yet may it not be said, that this counsel hath freed me from all difficulties, and that I have not been often troubled to control and bridle my passions: which are not always governed according to the measure of occasions: whose entrances are often sharp and violent. So is it, that thence may be reaped good fruit and profit. Except for those, who in well doing are not satisfied with any benefit, if their reputation be in question. For in truth, such an effect is not counted of but by every one to himself. You are thereby better satisfied, but not more esteemed, having reform yourself, before you come into action or the matter was in sight: yet not in this only, but in all other duties of life, their course which aim at honour, is divers from that, which they propound unto themselves, that follow order and reason. I find some, that inconsiderately and furiously thrust themselves into the lists and grow slack in the course. As Plutarch saith, that Such as by the vice of bashfulness are soft and tractable to grant whatsoever is demanded, are afterward as prone and facile to recant and break their word: In like manner, he that enters lightly into a quarrel, is subject to leave it as lightly. The same difficulty which keeps me from embracing the same, should incite me, being once moved and therein engaged, to continue resolute. It is an ill custom. Being once embarked, one must either goeon or sink. Attempt coldly (said Bias) but pursue hotly. For want of judgement, our hearts fail us; Which is also less tolerable. Most agreements of our modern quarrels, are shameful and false: We only seek to save appearances, and therewhilst betray and disa-vow our true intentions. We salve the deed: We know how we spoke it, and in what sense the bystanders know it: yea and our friends to whom we would have our advantages known. It is to the prejudice of our liberty and interest of our resolutions-honour, that we dis-avow our thoughts and seek for starting holes in falsehood, to make our agreements. We bely ourselves, to salve a lie we have given to another. We must not look whether your action or word may admit another interpretation, but it is your own true and sincere construction, that you must now maintain; whatsoever it cost you. It is to your virtue and to your conscience that men speak; parts that ought not to be disguised. Leave we these base courses, wrangling shifts and verbal means, to pettifogging Lawyers. The excuses and reparations, or satisfactions, which daily I see made; promised and given to purge indiscretion, seem to me more foul than indiscretion itself. Better were it for one to offend his adversary again, than in giving him such satisfaction, to wrong himself so much. You have braved him moved by choler, and now you seek to pacify and flatter him in your cold and better sense: Thus you abase yourself more, than you were before exalted. I find no speech so vicious in a Gentleman, as I deem any recantation he shall make, dishonourable; especially if it be wrested from him by authority: Forsomuch as obstinacy is in him more excusable, than cowardice. Passions are to me as easy to be avoided, as they are difficult to be moderated. Excinduntur facilius animo, quam temperantur. They are more easily rooted out of the mind, than brought to good temper. He that can not attain to this noble Stoical impassibility, let him shroud himself in the bosom of this my popular stupidity. What they did by virtue, I enure myself to do by Nature. The middle region harboureth storms; the two extremes contain Philosophers and rural men, they concur in tranquillity and good hap. Foelix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, Virg. Georg. l. 2 490. Atque metus omnes & inexorabile fatum Subiecit pedibus, strepitúmque Acherontis avari. Fortunatus & ille, Deos qui novit agrestes, Panáque, Silvanúmque senem, Nymphásque sorores. Happy is he that could of things the causes find, And subject to his feet all fearfulness of mind, Inexorable fate, and noise of greedy Hell. And happy he, with Country Gods acquainted well, Pan and old Sylvan knows, And all the sister shrew's. The beginnings of all things are weak and tender. We must therefore be clear-sighted in beginnings: For, as in their budding we discern not the danger, so in their full growth we perceive not the remedy. I should have encountered a thousand crosses, daily more hard to be digested in the course of ambition, than it hath been uneasy for me to stay the natural inclination, that led me unto them. — iure perhorrui, Hor. car. l. 3. 16. 18. Latè conspicuum tollere verticem.— I have been much afraid for causes right. To raise my foretop far abroad to sight. All public actions are subject to uncertain and diverse interpretations: For, too many heads judge of them. Some say of this my City employment (whereof I am content to speak a word; not that it deserves it, but to make a show of my manners in such things) I have demeaned myself like one that is to slowly moved and with a languishing affection: And they are not altogether void of reason. I strive to keep my mind and thoughts quiet. Cum semper Natura, tum etiam aetate iam quietus. Both ever quiet by Nature, and now because of years. And if at any time they are debauched to some rude and piercing impression, it is in truth without my consent. From which natural slackness, one must not therefore infer any proof of disability: For, Want of care and lack of judgement are two things: And less unkindness and ingratitude toward those Citizens, who to gratify me, employed the utmost of all the means they could possibly; both before they knew me and since. And who did much more for me, in appointing me my charge the second time, then in choosing me the first. I love them with all my heart, and wish them all the good that may be. And truly if occasion had been offered, I would havespared nothing to have done them service. I have stirred and laboured for them, as I do for myself. They are a good people, warlike and generous; yet capable of obedience and discipline, and fit for good employment, if they be well guided. They say likewise, that I passed over this charge of mine without any deed of note or great show. It is true. Moreover, they accuse my cessation, when as all the world was convicted of too much doing: I have a most nimble motion, where my will doth carry me. But this point is an enemy unto perseverance. Whosoever will make use of me, according to myself, let him employ me in affairs, that require vigour and liberty: that have a short, a strait, and therewithal a hazardous course: I may peradventure somewhat prevail therein. Whereas if it be tedious, crafty, laborious, artificial and intricate, they shall do better to address themselves to some other man. All charges of importance are not difficult. I was prepared to labour somewhat more earnestly, if there had been great need. For it lies in my power, to do something more than I make shew-of, and than I love to do. To my knowledge, I have not omitted any motion that duty required earnestly at my hands. I have easily forgotten those, which ambition blendeth with duty and cloaketh with her title. It is they, which most commonly fill the eyes and ears, and satisfy men. Not the thing itself, but the appearance payeth them. If they hear no noise, they imagine we sleep. My humours are contrary to turbulent humours. I could pacify an inconvenience or trouble without troubling myself, and chastise a disorder without alteration. Have I need of choler and inflammation; I borrow it, and therewith mask myself: My manners are musty, rather wallowish then sharp. I accuse not a Magistrate that sleepeth, so they that are under it sleep also. So sleep the laws. For my part, I commend a gliding, an obscure and reposed life: Neque submissam & abiectam, neque se efferentem. Neither too abject and submiss, nor vaunting itself too much. But my fortune will have it so; I am Cic. off. lib. 1. descended of a family that hath lived without noise and tumult: and of long continuance particularly ambitious of integrity. Our men are so framed to agitation and ostentations that goodness, moderation, equity, constancy, and such quiet and mean qualities, are no more hard-of. Rough bodies are felt, smooth ones are handled imperceptibly. Sickness is felt, health little or not at all: nor things that anoint us, in regard of such as sting us, It is an action for ones reputation and private commodity, and not for the common good, to refer that to be done in the market place, which a man may do in the counsel-chamber: & at noon day, what might have been effected the night before: and to be jealous to do that himself, which his fellow can perform as well. So did some Surgeons of Greece show the operations of their skill, upon scaffolds, in view of all passengers, thereby to get more practice and custom. They suppose, that good orders cannot be understood, but by the sound of a trumpet. Ambition is no vice for petty companions, and for such endeavours as ours. One said to Alexander: your father will leave you a great command, easy and peaceful: the boy was envious of his father's victories, and of the justice of his government. He would not have enjoyed the world's▪ Empire securely and quietly. Alcibiades in Plato, loveth rather to die young, fair, rich, noble, learned, and all that in excellence, then to stay in the state of such a condition. This infirmity is happily excusable, in so strong and full a mind. When these petty wretched souls, are therewith enveagled; and think to publish their fame, because they have judged a cause rightly, or continued the order in guarding of a cities gates; by how much more they hoped to raise their head, so much more do they show their simplicity. This petty well-doing, hath neither body nor life. It vanisheth in the first month; and walks but from one corner of a street to another. Entertain therewith your son and your servant, and spare not. As that ancient fellow, who having no other auditor of his praises & applauding of his sufficiency, boasted with his chambermaid, exclaiming: Oh Perette, what a gallant and sufficient man thou hast to thy master! If the worst happen, entertain yourselves in your selves: As a Counsellor of my acquaintance, having degorged a rabble of paragraphes, with an extreme contention and like foolishness; going out of the counsel-chamber, to a pissing place near unto it; was heard very conscientiously to utter these words to himself: Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini Psal. 115. 1. tuo da gloriam. Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give the glory. He that cannot otherwise, let him pay himself out of his own purse. Fame doth not so basely prostitute itself, nor so cheap. Rare and exemplar actions, to which it duly belongeth, could not brook the company of this innumerable multitude of vulgar petty actions. Well may a piece of marble raise your titles as high as you list, because you have repaired a piece of an old Wall, or cleansed a common ditch; but men of judgement will never do it. Report followeth not all goodness, except difficulty and rarity be joined thereunto. Yea simple estimation, according to the stoics, is not due to every action proceeding from virtue. Neither would they have him commended, who through temperance abstaineth from an old blear-eyed woman. Such as have known the admirable qualities of Scipio the African, renounce the glory which Panaetius ascribeth unto him, to have abstained from gifts, as a glory, not his alone, but peculiar to that age. We have pleasures sortable to our fortune; let us not usurp those of greatness. Our own are more natural. They are the more solid and firm, by how much the meaner. Since it is not for conscience, at least for ambition let us refuse ambition. Let us disdain this infaciate thirst of honour and renown, base and beggarly, which makes us so suppliantly to crave it of all sorts of people: Quae est ista laus quae possit è Cic. d● fin. l. 2. macello peti? What praise is this, which may be fetched out of the Shambles? By abject means, and at what vile rate soever. To be thus honoured, is merely a dishonour. Learn we to be no more greedy of glory, than we are capable of it. To be proud of every profitable and innocent action, is it fit for men to whom it is extraordinary and rare. They will value it, for the price it cost them. According as a good effect is more resounding; I abate of its goodness: the jealousy I conceive, it is produced more because it is so resounding, than because it is good. What is set-out to show, is half sold. Those actions have more grace, which carelessly and under silence, pass from the hands of a Workman, and which some honest man afterward chooseth and redeemeth from darkness, to thrust them into the worlds-light; Only for their worth. Mihi quidem laudabiliora videntur omnia, quae sine venditatione, & sine populo Cic. Tusc. qu. l. 2. teste fiunt: All things in sooth seem to me more commendable that are performed with no ostentation; and without the people to witness. Said the most glorious man of the World. I had no care but to preserve and continue, which are deaf and insensible effects. Innovation is of great lustre: But interdicted in times, when we are most urged, and have to defend ourselves but from novelties; Abstinence from doing, is eften as generous, as doing: but it is not so apparent. My small worth is in a manner all of this kind. To be short, the occasions in this my charge have seconded my complexion; for which I con them hearty thanks. Is there any man that desireth to be sick, to see his Physician set a work? And Should not that Physician be well whipped, who to put his art in practise, would wish the plague to infect us? I was never possessed with this impious and vulgar passion, to wish that the troubled and distempered state of this City, might raise and honour my government. I have most willingly lent them my hand to further, and shoulders to aid their ease and tranquillity. He that will not thank me for the good order and for the sweet and undisturbed rest, which hath accompanied my charge; cannot at least deprive me of that part, which by the title of my good fortune belongeth unto me. This is my humour, that I love as much to be happy as wise: And attribute my successes as much to the mere grace of God, as to the mean furtherance of my operation. I had sufficiently published to the World my insufficiency: in managing of such public affairs: Nay, there is something in me, worse than insufficiency: Which is, that I am not much displeased therewith: and that I endeavour not greatly to cure it, considering the course of life I have determined to myself. Nor have I satisfied myself in this employment. But have almost attained what I had promised unto myself: Yet have I much exceeded, what I had promised those, with whom I was to negotiate: For I willingly promise somewhat less, than I can perform, or hope to accomplish. Of this I am assured, I have never left offence or hatred amongst them: To have left either regret or desire of me. This know I certainly, I have not much affected it. — Méne huic consider monster, Méne salis placidi vultum, fluctúsque quietos Virg A●n. lib. 5 849. Ignorare?— Should I this monster trust? Should I not know The calm Seas counterfeit dissembling show, How quietly sometimes the floods will go? The eleventh Chapter. Of the Lame or Cripple. TWO or three years are now past, since the year hath been shortened ten days in France. Oh how many changes are like to ensue this reformation▪ It was a right removing of Heaven and Earth together, yet nothing removeth fromit's own place: My Neighbours find the season of their seed and Harvest time, the opportunity of their affairs, their lucky and unlucky days, to answer just those seasons to which they had from all ages assigned them. Neither was the error heretofore perceived, nor is the reformation now discerned in our use. So much uncertainty is there in all things: So gross, so obscure and so dull is our understanding. Some are of opinion, this reformation might have been redressed after a less incommodious manner; substracting according to the example of Augustus, for some years, the bissextile or leap day: Which in some sort, is but a day of hindrance and trouble: Until they might more exactly have satisfied the debt: Which by this late reformation is not done: For we are yet some days in arrearages: And if by such a mean, we might provide for times to come, appointing that after the revolution of such or such a number of years, that extraordinary day might for ever be eclipsed: so that our misreckoning should not henceforward exceed four and twenty hours. We have no other computation of time, but years: The World hath used them so many ages: And yet is it a measure, we have not until this day perfectly established. And such, as we daily doubt, what form other Nations have diversely given the same; and which was the true use of it. And what if some say, that the Heavens in growing oldecompresse themselves towards us, and cast into an uncertainty of hours and days? And as Plutarch saith of months; that even in his days, Astrology could not yet limit the motion of the Moon? Are not we then well holp-up, to keep a register of things past? I was even now plodding (as often I do) upon this, what free and gadding instrument human reason is. I ordinarily see, that men, in matters proposed them, do more willingly ammuze and busy themselves in seeking out the reasons, than in searching out the truth of them. They omit presuppositions, but curiously examine consequences. They leave things, and run to causes. Oh conceited discourses! The knowledge of causes doth only concern him, who hath the conduct of things: Not us, that have but the sufferance of them. And who according to our need, without entering into their beginning and essence, have perfectly the full and absolute use of them. Nor is wine more pleasant unto him that knows the first faculties of it. chose; both the body and the mind, interrupt and alter the right, which they have of the worlds use and of themselves, commixing therewith the opinion of learning. The effects concern us, but the means, nothing at all. To determine and distribute, belongeth to superiority and regency; as accepting, to subjection and apprentiseshippe. Let us reassume our custom. They commonly begin thus: How is such a thing done? Whereas they should say: Is such a thing done? Our discourse is capable to frame an hundred other Worlds, and find the beginnings and contexture of them. It needeth neither matter nor ground. Let it but run on: It will as well build upon emptiness, as upon fullness and with inanity as with matter. Dare pondus idonea fume, Pers. sat. 5. 20. That things which vanish strait In smoke, should yet bear weight. I find, that we should say most times: There is no such thing. And I would often employ this answer; but I dare not: for they cry; It is a defeature produced by ignorance and weakness of spirit. And I must commonly juggle for company sake, to treat of idle subjects and frivolous discourses. which I believe nothing at all. Since truly, it is a rude and quarelous humour, flatly to deny a proposition. And few miss (especially in things hard to be persuaded) to affirm, that they have seen it: Or to allege such witnesses, as their authority shall stay our contradiction. According to which use, we know the foundations and means of a thousand things that never were. And the world is in a thousand questions descanted and bandied too & fro; the pro and contra of which is merely false. Ita finitima sunt falsaveris, Cic. Acad qu. lib 4. ut in praecipitem locum non debeat se sapiens committere. Falsehood is so near Neighbour to truth, that a wiseman should not put himself upon a slippery downefal. Truth and falsehood have both alike countenances, their port, their taste and their proceedings semblable: We behold them with one same eyes. I observe that we are not only slow in defending ourselves from deceit, but that we seek and sue to embrace it. We love to meddle and entangle ourselves with vanity, as conformable unto our being. I have seen the birth of diverse miracles in my days. Although they be smothered in their first growth, we omit not to foresee the course they would have taken, had they lived their full age. The matter is to find the end of the clue; that found, one may winde-off what he list: And there is a further distance from nothing to the least thing in the World, than between that and the greatest. Now the first that are imbrued with the beginning of strangeness, coming to publish their history, find by the oppositions made against them, where the difficulty of persuasion lodgeth; and go about with some false patch, to botch up those places. Besides that, Insita h●minibus libidine alendi de industria rumores: Men having a natural desire to nourish reports. We naturally make it a matter of conscience, to restore what hath been lent us, without some usury and accession of our increase. A particular error, doth first breed a public error: And when his turn cometh, A public error begetteth a particular error. So goeth all this vast frame, from hand to hand, confounding and composing itself; in such sort that the furthest-abiding testimony, is better instructed of it, than the nearest: and the last informed, better persuaded then the first. It is natural progress: For, whosoever believeth any thing, thinks it a deed of charity, to persuade it unto another: Which, that he may the better effect, he feareth not to add something of his own invention thereunto, so far as he seeth necessary in his discourse, to supply the resistance and defect, he imagine●h to be in another's conception. Myself, who make an especial matter of conscience to lie, and care not greatly to add credit or authority to what I say, perceive nevertheless, by the discourses I have in hand, that being ernested, either by the resistance of another, or by the earnestness of my narration; I swell and amplify my subject by my voice, motions, vigour and force of words: as also by extension and amplification, not without some prejudice to the naked truth. But yet I do it upon condition, that to the first that brings me home again, and inquireth for the bare and simple truth at my hands: I suddenly give over my hold, and without exaggeration emphasis or amplification, I yield both myself and it unto him. A lively, earnest and ready speech as mine, is easy transported unto hyperboles. There is nothing whereunto men are ordinarily more prone, then to give way to their opinions. Where ever usual means fail us, we add commandment, force, fire and sword. It is not without some ill fortune to come to that pass, that the multitude of believers, in a throng where fools do in number so far exceed the wise, should be the best touchstone of truth. Quasi verò quidquam Cic. de divin. l. 2 sit tam valdè, quam nilsapere vulgar. Sanitatis patrocinium est, insanientium turba. As though any thing were so common as to have no wit. The multitude of them that are mad, is a defence for them that are in their wits. It is a hard matter for a man to resolve his judgement against common opinions. The first persuasion taken from the very subject, seizeth on the simple: whence under th'authority of the number and antiquity of testimonies, it extends itself on the wiser sort. As for me, in a matter, which I could not believe being reported by one: I should never credit the same, though affirmed by a hundred. And I judge not opinions, by years. It is not long since one of our Princes, in whom the gout had spoiled a gentle disposition and blithe composition; suffered himself so far to be persuaded or misled, by the report made unto him of the wondrous deeds of a Priest, who by way of charms, spells and gestures cured all diseases; that he undertook a long-tedious jonrny to find him out: and by the virtue of his apprehension did so persuade, and for certain hours so ●ull his legs asleep, that for a while he brought them to do him that service, which for a long time they had forgotten. Had fortune heaped five or six like accidents one in the neck of another, they had doubtless been able to bring this miracle into nature. Whereas afterward there was so much simplicity and so little skill found in the architect of these works, that he was deemed unworthy of any punishment: As likewise should be done with most suchlike things, were they thoroughly known in their nature. Miramur ex intervallo fallentia: We wonder at those things that deceive us by distance. Our sight doth in such sort, often represent us a far-off with strange images, which vanish in approaching nearer. Nnnquam ad liquidum fama perducitur. Fame is never brought to be clear. It is a wonder, to see how from many vain beginnings and frivolous causes, so famous impressions do ordinarily arise and ensue. Even that hindereth the information of them: For, whilst a man endeavoureth to find out causes, forcible and weighty ends, and worthy so great a name, he looseth the true and essential. They are so little, that they escape our sight. And verily a right wise, heedy and subtle inquisitor is required in such questing; impartial and not preoccupated. All these miracles and strange events, are until this day hidden from me: I have seen no such monster, or more express wonder in this world, than myself. With time and custom a man doth acquaint and enure himself to all strangeness: But the more I frequent and know myself, the more my deformity astonieth me: and the less I understand myself. The chiefest privilege to produce and advance such accidents, is reserved unto fortune. traveling yesterday through a village, within two leagues of my house, I found the place yet warm of a miracle that was but newly failed and discovered, wherewith all the country thereabout had for many months been ammused and abused; and divers bordering Provinces began to listen unto it, and several troops of all qualities ceased not thick and threefold to flock thither. A young man of that town, undertook one night in his own house (never dreaming of any knavery) to counterfeit the voice of a spirit or ghost, but only for sport, to make himself merry for that present, which succeeding better than he had imagined; to make the jest extend further, and himself the merrier, he made a country-maiden acquainted with his devise; who because she was both silly and harmless, consented to beesecret and to second him: In the end they got another, and were now three, all of one age and like sufficiency: and from private spirit-talking, they began with hideous voices to cry and roar aloud, and in, and about churches hiding themselves under the chief Altar, speaking but by night, forbidding any light to be set up: From speeches tending the worlds subversion, and threatening of the day of judgement (which are the subjects, by whose authority and abusive reverence, imposture and illusion, is more easily lurked) they proceeded to certain visions and strange gestures, so foolish and ridiculous, that there is scarce any thing more gross and absurd used among Children, in their childish sports. Suppose I pray you, that fortune would have seconded this harmless devise or juggling trick; Who knoweth how far it would have extended, and to what it would have grown? The poor silly three Devils are now in prison, and may happily e'er long pay dear for their common sottishness; and I wot not whether some chevril judge or other, will be avenged of them for his. It is manifestly seen in this, which now is discovered; as also in diverse other things of like quality, exceeding our knowledge; I am of opinion that we uphold our judgement, as well to reject, as to receive. Many abuses are engendered in the World; or to speak more boldly, all the abuses of the World are engendered upon this, that we are taught to fear to make profession, of our ignorance; and are bound to accept and allow, all that we cannot refute. We speak of all things by precepts and resolution. The Style of Rome did bear, that even the same, that a witness deposed, because he had seen it with his own eyes; and that which a judge ordained of his most assured knowledge, was conceived in this form of speech, It seemeth so unto me. I am drawn to hate likely things, when men go about to set them down as infallible. I love these words or phrases, which mollify and moderate the temerity of our propositions: It may be: Peradventure: In some sort: Some: It is said: I think, and such like: And had I been to instruct children, I would so often have put this manner of answering in their mouth; inquiring, and not resolving: What means it? I understand it not: It may well be: Is it true? that they should rather have kept the form of learners, until three score years of age, than present themselves Doctors at ten; as many do. Whosoever will be cured of ignorance, must confess the same. Iris is the daughter of Thaumantis. Admiration is the ground of all Philosophy: Inquisition the progress: Ignorance the end. Yea but there is some kind of ignorance strong and generous, that for honour and courage is nothing beholding to knowledge: An ignorance, which to conceive rightly, there is required no less learning, than to conceive true learning. Being young, I saw a law-case, which Corras a Counsellor of Tholouse caused to be printed of a strange accident of two men, who presented themselves one for another. I remember (and I remember nothing else so well) that me thought, he proved his imposture, whom he condemned as guilty, so wondrous strange and so far-exceeding both our knowledge and his own, who was judge, that I found much boldness in the sentence which had condemned him to be hanged. Let us receive some form of sentence that may say: The Court understands nothing of it; more freely and ingenuously, than did the Areopagites; who finding themselves urged and entangled in a case they could not well clear or determine, appointed the parties to come again and appear before them a hundred years after. The witches about my country, are in hazard of their life, upon the opinion of every new author, that may come to give their dreams a body. To apply such examples as the holy word of God offereth us of such things (assured and irrefragable examples) and join them to our modern events; since we neither see the causes nor means of them, some other better wit than ours is thereunto required. Peradventure it appertaineth to that only most-mightie testimony, to tell us: This here, and that there; and not this other are of them. God must be believed; and good reason he should be so. Yet is there not one amongst us, that will be amazed at his own narration (and he ought necessarily to be astonished at it, if he be not out of his wits) whether he employ it about others matters; or against himself. I am plain and homely, and take hold on the main point, and on that which is most likely; avoiding ancient reproaches. Mayor 'em fidem homines adhibent iis quae non intelligunt. Cupidine humani ingenij libentius obscura creduntur. Men give more credit to things they vndestand not: Things obscure are more willingly believed through a strange desire of man's wit. I see that men will be angry: and am forbid to doubt of it upon pain of execrable injuries. A new manner of persuading. Mercy for God's sake. My belief is not carried away with blows. Let them tyrannize over such as accuse their opinion of falsehood; I only accuse mine of difficulty and boldness. And equally to them I condemn the opposite affirmation: if not so imperiously. He that with bravery and by commandment will establish his discourse, declareth his reason to be weak: For a verbal and scholastical altercation, that they have as much appearance as their contradictors. Videantur sanè, non affirmentur modò. Indeed let them seem, so they be not avouched. But in effectual consequence they draw from it, these have great odds. To kill men; there is required a bright shining and clear light. And our life is over- real and essential, to warrant these supernatural and fantastical accidents. As for drugs and poisons, they are out of my element: they are homicides, and of the worst kind. In which nevertheless, it is said, that one must not always rely upon the mere confession of those people: For, they have sometimes been seen to accuse themselves, to have made away men which were both sound and living. In these other extravagant accusations, I should easily say that it sufficeth what commendations soever he hath, a man be believed in such things as are human: but of such as are beyond his conception and of a supernatural effect, he ought then only be believed, when a supernatural approbation hath authorized him. That privilege it hath pleased God to give some of our testimonies, ought not to be vilified, or slightly communicated. Mine ears are full of a thousand such tales. Three saw him such a day in the East; three saw him the next day in the West, at such an hour, in such a place; and thus and thus attired; v●●ily in such a case I could not believe myself. How much more natural and more likely do I find it, that two men should lie, than one in twelve hours, pass with the winds, from East to West? How much more natural, that our understanding may by the volubility of our loose capering mind be transported from his place? then that one of us should by a strange spirit, in flesh and bone, be carried upon a broom through the tunnel of a chimney? Let us, who are perpetually tossed too and fro with domestical and our own illusions, not seek for foreign and unknown illusions. I deem it a matter pardonable, not to believe a wonder, so farforth at least as one may divert and exclude the verification by no miraculous way. And I follow Saint Augustine's opinion, that a man were better bend towards doubt, than incline towards certainty, in matters of difficult trial and dangerous belief. Some years are now past, that I traveled through the country of a sovereign Prince: who in favour of me, and to abate my incredulity, did me the grace, in his own presence, and in a particular place, to make me see ten or twelve prisoners of that kind; and amongst others an old beldame witch; a true and perfect forceresse, both by her ugliness and deformity; and such a one as long before was most famous in that profession. I saw both proofs, witnesses, voluntary confessions, and some other insensible marks about this miserable old woman; I inquired and talked with her a long time, with the greatest heed and attention I could; yet am I not easily carried away by preoccupation. In the end, and in my conscience, I should rather have appointed them Helleborum, than Hemlock. Captisque res magis mentibus, quam consceleratis similis visa. The matter seemed liker to minds captivate then guilty. Law hath her own corrections for such diseases. Touching the oppositions and arguments, that honest men have made unto me, both there, and often elsewhere, I have found none that tie me; and that admit not always a more likely solution, than their conclusions. True it is, that proofs and reasons grounded upon the fact and experience. I untie not: for indeed they have no end; but often cut them, as Alexander did his knot. When all is done, it is an overvaluing of one's conjectures, by them to cause a man to be burned alive. It is reported by divers examples (and Praestantius saith of his father) that being in a slumber much more deeply, then in a full-sound sleep, he dreamt and verily thought himself to be a Mare, and served certain soldiers for a sumpter-horse, and was indeed what he imagined to be. If sorcerers dream thus materially: If dreams may sometimes be thus incorporated into effects: I cannot possibly believe, that our will should therefore be bound to the laws and justice: which I say, as one who am neither a judge, nor a Counsellor unto Kings, and furthest from any such worthiness: but rather a man of the common stamp, and both by my deeds and sayings, borne and vowed to the obedience of public reason. He that should register my humours, to the prejudice of the simplest law, or opinion, or custom of this village, should greatly wrong himself, and injury me as much. For in what I say, I gape for no other certainty, but that such was then my thought. A tumultuous and wavering thought. It is by way of discourse that I speak of all; and of nothing by way of advice. Nec me pudet, ut istos, faterinescire, quod nesciam. Nor am I ashamed, as they are, to confess I know not that which I do not know. I would not be so hardy to speak, if of duty I ought to be believed: and so I answered a great man, who blamed the sharpness and contention of my exhortations. When I see you bend and prepared on one side; with all the endeavour I can, I will propose the contrary unto you; to resolve and enlighten your judgement, not to subdue or bind the same: God hath your hearts in his hands, and he will furnish you with choice. I am so malapert, as to desire, that my opinions alone, should give sway to a matter of such importance. My fortune hath not raised them to so powerful and deep conclusious. Truly, I have not only a great number of complexions, but an infinite many of opinions, from which, had I a son of mine own, I would dissuade him, and willingly make him to distaste them. What? If the truest are not ever the most commodious for man; he being of so strange a●d untamed a composition: Whether it be to the purpose, or from the purpose, it is no great matter. It is a common Proverb in Italy, that He knows not the perfect pleasure of Venus, that hath not lain with a limping Woman. Either fortune, or some particular accident have long since brought this by-saying in the people's mouth: and it is as well spoken of men as of women: For the Queen of the Amazons answered the Scythian, that wooed her to loves-embracements. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, The crooked man doth it best. In that feminine commonwealth of theirs, to avoid the domination of men, they were wont in their infancy to maim them, both their arms and legs and other limbs, that might anyway adventage their strength over them, and made only that use of them, that we in our World make of our Women. I would have said, that the loose or disjointed motion of alimping or crooke-backt Woman, might addesome new kind of pleasure unto that business or sweet sin, and some unassaid sensual sweetness, to such as make trial of it: but I have lately learned, that even ancient Philosophy hath decided the matter: Who saith, that the legs and thighs of the crooked-backt or halting-lame, by reason of their imperfection, not receiving the nourishment, due unto them, it followeth that the Genital parts, that are above them, are more full, better nourished and more vigorous. Or else, that such a defect hindering other exercise, such as are therewith possessed, do less waste their strength and consume their virtue, and so much the stronger and fuller, they come to Venus' sports. Which is also the reason why the Grecians described their Women-Weavers, to be more hot and earnestly-luxurious, than other Women: Because of their sitting-trade, without any violent exercise of the body. What cannot we dispute of according to that rate? I might likewise say of these, that the same stirring, which their labour, so sitting doth give them, doth rouse and solicit them, as the jogging and shaking of their Coach, doth our Ladies. Do not these examples fit that whereof I spoke in the beginning? That our reasons do often anticipate the effect, and have the extension of their jurisdiction so infinite, that they judge and exercise themselves in manity, and to a not being? Besides the flexibility of our invention, to frame reasons unto all manner of dreams; our imaginations is likewise found easy to receive impressions from falsehood, by very frivolous appearances. For, by the only authority of the ancient and public use of this word or phrase, I have heretofore persuaded myself, to have received more pleasure of a Woman, in that she was not strait, and have accounted her crookedness in the number of her graces. Torquato Tasso, in the comparison he makes between Italy and France, reporteth to have noted, that we commonly have more slender and spiny legs, than the Italian Gentlemen; and imputeth the cause unto our continual riding and sitting on horseback. Which is the very same, from which Suctonius draweth another clean contrary conclusion: For, he saith, that Germanicus had by the frequent use of this exercise, brought his to be very big. There is nothing so supple and wandering, as our understanding. It is like to Theramenez shoe, fit for all feet. It is double and divers, and so are matters divers and double. Give me a Dragma of Silver, said a Cinike Philosopher unto Antigonus: It is not the present of a King, answered he; Give then a talon: It is no gift for a Cinike, quoth he: Seu plures calor ille vias, & caeca relaxat Virg. Georg. li. 1 89. 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. Whether the heat lays open holes unseen, Whereby the sap may pass to herbs fresh-greene: Or rather hardens and binds gaping veins, Lest sharp power of hot sun, or thinning rains, Of piercing North-cold blast, Should scorch, consume and waste, Ogni medagalia ha' il suo river s●io; Each outside hath his inside, saith the Italian. Lo why C●●tomachus was wont to say, that Carneades had surmounted the labours of Hercules; because he had exacted consent from men; that is to say opinion and temerity to judge. This fantasy of Carneades, so vigorous (as I imagine) proceeded anciently, from the impudence of those, who make profession to know; and from their excessive selfe-overweening. Aesop was set to sale, together with two other slaves; a Chapman inquired of the first, what he could do: he to endear himself, answered, mountains and wonders, and what not? For he knew and could do all things. The second answered even so for himself, and more too: But when he came to Aesop, and demanded of him what he could do: Nothing (said he) for these two have forestaled all, and know and can do all things, and have left nothing for me. So hath it happened in the school of philosophy. The rashness of those who ascribed the capacity of all things to man's wit, through spite and emulation produced this opinion in others, that human wit was not capable of any thing. Some hold the same extremity in ignorance, that others hold in knowledge. To the end none may deny, that man is not immoderate in all and every where: and hath no other sentence or arrest, than that of necessity, and impuissance to proceed further. The twelfth Chapter. Of Physiognomy. ALmost all the opinions we have, are taken by authority, and upon credit: There is no hurt. We cannot choose worse, then by ourselves, inso weak an age. This image of Socrates his discourse, which his friends have left us, we only approve it, by the reverence of public approbation. It is not of our own knowledge: they are not according to our use. Might such a man be borne now adays, there are but few would now esteem him. We discern not graces inly or aright; We only perceive them by a false light set out and puffed up with art: Such as pass under their natural purity and simplicity, do easily escape so weak and dim a sight as ours is. They have a secret, unperceived and delicate beauty: he had need of a clear, farre-seeing and true-discerning sight, that should rightly discover this secret light. Is not in genuity (according to us) cosin-germaine unto sottishness, and a quality of reproach? Socrates maketh his soul to move, with a natural and common motion. Thus saith a plain Countryman, and thus a silly Woman: He never hath other people in his mouth, than Coach-makers, joiners, Cobblers and Masons. They are inductions and similitudes, drawn from the most vulgar and known actions of men: every one understands him. Under so base a form, we should never have chosen the noble worthiness and brightness of his admirable conceptions: We that esteem all those but mean and vile, that learning doth not raise: and who have no perceiving of riches, except set out in show and pomp. Our World is framed but unto ostentation. Men are puffed up with wind, and moved or handled by bounds, as Baloones. This man proposeth no vain fantasies unto himself. His end was, to store us with things and furnish us with precepts, which really more substantially and jointly serve our life: — servare modum, finémque tenere, Lucan. b●l. ci●. lib. 2. 380. Naturámque sequi. To keep a mean, to hold the end, And natures conduct to attend. So was he ever all one alike: And raised himself to the highest pitch of vigour, not by fits, but by complexion. Or to say better; he raised nothing, but rather brought down and reduced all difficulties, or sharpness to their original and natural state, and thereunto subdued vigour. For, in Cato, it is manifestly seen, to be an outright proceeding, far-above & beyond the common: By the brave exploits of his life, and in his death, he is ever perceived to be mounted upon his great horses. Whereas this man keeps on the ground, and with a gentle and ordinary pace, treateth of the most profitable discourses, and addresseth himself both unto death and to the most thorny and crabbed crosses, that may happen unto the course of human life. It hath indeed fortuned, that the worthiest man to be known, and for a pattern to be presented to the world, he is the man of whom we have most certain knowledge. He hath been declared and enlightened by the most cleare-seeing men, that ever were; the testimonies we have of him, are in faithfulness and sufficiency most admirable. It is a great matter, that ever he was able to give such order unto the pure imaginations of a child, that without altering or wresting them, he hath thence produced the fairest effects of our mind. He neither represents it rich nor high-raised; but found and pure: and ever with a blithe and undefiled health. By these vulgar springs and natural wards: by these ordinary and common fantasies, sans moving or without urging himself, he erected not only the most regular, but the highest and most vigorous opinions, actions and customs, that ever were. He it is, that brought human wisdom from heaven again, where for a long time it had been lost, to restore it unto man: where her most just and laborious work is. See or hear him plead before his judges; mark with what reasons he rouseth his courage to the hazards of war, what arguments fortify his patience against detraction, calumniation, tyranny, death, and against his wives peevish head: therein is nothing borrowed from art, or from learning. The simplest may there know their means and might: it is impossible to go further back or lower. He hath done human nature a great kindness, to show what and how much she can do of herself. We are every one richer than we imagine, but we are taught to borrow, and instructed to shift; and rather to make use of others goods and means, then of our own. There is nothing whereon man can stay or fix himself in time of his need. Of voluptuousness, of riches, of pleasure, of power, he ever embraceth more, than he can grasp or hold. His greediness is incapable of moderation. The very same I find to be in the curiosity of learning and knowledge: he cuts out more work than he can well make an end of: and much more than he need. Extending Sen epist. 106. f the profit of learning, as far as his matter. Vt omnium rerum, sic literarum quoque intemperantia laboramus. We are sick of a surfeit, as of all things, so of learning also. And Tacitus hath reason to commend Agricolaes' mother, to have bridled in her son an over-burning and earnest desire of learning. It is a good, being nearly looked unto, that containeth as other human goods, much peculiar vanity and natural weakness: and is very chargeable. The acquisition and purchase whereof is much more hazardous, then of all other viands and beverage. For, whatsoever else we have bought, we carry home insome vessel or other, where we have law to examine its worth: how much, and at what time we are to takeit. But Sciences, we cannot suddenly put them into any other vessel, than our mind: we swallow them in buying them and go from the marketh either already infected or amended. There are some, which instead of nourishing, do but hinder and surcharge us; and other some, which under colour of curing, empoison us. I have taken pleasure in some place, to see men, who for devotions' sake have made a vow of ignorance, as of chastity, poverty and penitence. It is also a kind of gelding of our inordinate appetites, to muzzle this greediness, which provoketh us to the study of books, and deprive the mind of that voluptuous delight, which by the opinion of learning doth so tickle us. And it is richly to accomplish the vow of poverty, to join that of the mind unto it. We need not much learning for to live at ease. And Socrates teacheth us, that we have both it, and the way to find and make use of it, within us. All our sufficiency, that beyond the natural, is wellnigh vain and superfluous. It is much, if it charge and trouble us no more, than it steads us. Paucis Sen ibid. opus est literis ad mentem bonam. We have need of little learning to have a good mind They are febricitant excesses of our spirit: a turbulent and unquiet instrument. Rouse up yourself, and you shall find forcible arguments against death to be in yourself; most true and very proper to serve and stead you in time of necessity. 'tis they which induce a peasant swain, yea and whole nations to die as constantly as any Philosopher. Should I have died less merrily before I read the Thusculanes? I think not. And when I find myself in my best wits, I perceive, that I have somewhat enriched my tongue; my courage but little. It is even as nature framed the same at first. And against any conflict, it shields itself, but with a natural and common march. Books have not so much served me for instruction, as exercitation. What if learning, assaying to arm us with new wards and fences, against natural inconveniences, hath more imprinted their greatness and weight in our fantasy, than her reasons, quiddities and subtleties, therewith to cover us? They are subtleties indeed; by which she often awaketh us very vainly. Observe how many sleight and idle arguments the wisest and closest authors frame and scatter about one good sound: which if you consider nearly, are but vain and incorporal. They are but verbal wiles, which beguile us. But forsomuch as it may be profitable: I will not otherwise blanche them. Many of that condition are scattered here and there, in diverse places of this volume; either borrowed or imitated. Yet should a man somewhat heed, he call not that force, which is but quaintness; or term that which is but quipping sharp, solid; or name that good, which is but fair: quae magis gustata quam potata delectant, which more delight us being but tasted, then swill and Cic. Tusc. qu●. 5 swallowed down. All that which pleaseth, feedeth not; ubi non ingenij sed animi negotium agitur. Where it is no matter of wit, but of courage. To see the struggling endeavours which Seneca giveth himself, to prepare himself against death; to see him sweat with panting; to see him bathe so long upon this perch, thereby to strengthen and assure himself: I should have made question of his reputation, had he not most undantedly maintained the same in his death. His so violent and frequent agitation, showeth that himself was fervent and impetuous. Magnus' animus remissius loquitur, & securius: Non est alius ingenio, alius animo colour. Sen. epist. 115. ●l.. 1. A great courage speaks softly but securely. Wit hath not one colour, and courage another. He must be convicted at his own charges. And showeth in some sort, that he was pressed by his adversary. Plutarkes' manner by how much more disdainful and farre-extending it is (in my opinion) so much more manlike and persuasive is it: I should easily believe, that his soul had her motions more assured and more regular. The one more sharp, pricketh and suddenly starts us: toucheth the spirit more. The other more solid, doth constantly inform, establish and comfort us: toucheth more the understanding. That ravisheth our judgement; this doth gain it. I have likewise seen other compositions and more reverenced, which in purtraying the combat, they endure against the provocations of the flesh, represent them so violent, so powerful and so invincible, that ourselves, who are cast in the common mould of other men, have as much to admire the unknown strangeness and unfelt vigour of their temptation, as their constant resistance. To what purpose do we so arm and steel ourselves with these labouring-efforts of learning? Let us diligently survey the surface of the earth, and there consider so many seely-poore people as we see toiling, sweltering and drooping about their business, which never heard of Aristotle, not of Plato, nor ever knew what examples or precepts are. From those doth nature daily draw and afford us effects of constancy and patterns of patience, more pure and forcible, then are those, we so curiously study-for in schools. How many do I ordinarily see, that misacknowledge poverty; how many that wish for death, or that pass it without any alaram or affliction? A fellow that dungeth my garden, hath happily this morning buried his father or his child. The very names whereby they call diseases, do somewhat mylden and diminish the sharpness of them. With them a Phthysique or consumption of the lungs, is but an ordinary cough: A dysentery or bloody flux, but a distemper of the stomach: A pleurisy but a cold or murr: and as they gently name them, so they easily endure them. Grievous are they indeed, when they hinder their ordinary labour or break their usual rest: They will not take their beds but when they think they shall die. Simplex illa & aperta virtus in obscuram & solert●m scientiam versa est. That plain and clear virtue is turned into obscure and cunning knowledge. I was writing this about a time that a boisterous storm of our tumultuous broils and bloody troubles, did for many month's space, with all its might and horror, hang full over my head. On the one side, I had the enemies at my gates; on the other, the Picoreurs or freebooters, far worse foes. Non armis sed vitijs certatur. We contend not with armour, but with vices. And at one time felt and endured all manner of harme-bringing military injuries: Hostis adest dextra laev●que à part timendus, Ovid. P●nt. l. 1. ●l. 4. 55. Vicinóque malo terret utrúmque latus. A fearful foe on left hand and on right, Doth with his neighbour harms both sides affright. Oh monstrous War: Others work without; this inwardly and against himself: And with her own venom gnaweth and consumes herself. It is of so ruinous and malign a Nature; that together with all things else, she ruineth herself: and with spiteful rage, doth rend, deface and massacre itself. We do more often see it, by and through herself, to waste, to desolate and dissolve herself, then by or through want of any necessary thing, or by enemy's force. All manner of discipline doth shun and fly it. She cometh to cure sedition, and herself is thoroughly therewith infected: She goeth about to chastise disobedience, and showeth the example of it: and being employed for the defence of Laws, entereth into actual rebellion against her own ordinances. Ay me, where are we? Our Physic bringeth infection. Nostre mal s'empoyson●e Du secours qu'on luy donne. Our evil is empoysond more By plaster they would lay to th'sore. — exuperat magis aegrescitque medendo. Virg. Aen. l. 12. 46. It rises higher, quicker, And grows by curing sicker, Omnia fanda nefanda mal● permista furore, Catul. Arg●● v. 405. justificam nobis mentem avertere Deorum. Lawful unlawful deeds with fury blended, Have turn'nd from us the God's just mind offended. In these popular diseases, one may in the beginning distinguish thescund from the sick: but if they chance to continue any time, as ours hath done and doth still, all the body, yea head and heels feel themselves the worse: no part is▪ exempted from corruption. For, there is no air a man draws so greedily, or sucks so gluttonnously; and that more spreads itself, or penetrates more deeply, then doth licentiousness. Our Armies have no other bond to tie them, or other cement to fasten them, than what cometh from strangers: It is now a hard matter to frame a body of a complete, constant, well-ordred and coherent Army of Frenchmen: Oh what shame is it? We have no other discipline, than what borrowed or auxiliar Soldiers show us. As for us, we are leddon by our own discretion and not by the commanders▪ each man followeth his own humour: and hath more to do within, then without. It is the commandment should follow, court and yield unto: he only ought to obey: all the rest is free and loose. I am pleased to see, what remissness and pusilanimity is in ambition, and by what steps of abjection and servitude, it must arrive unto its end. But I am displeased to see some debonair and well-meaning minds, yea such as are capable of justice, daily corrupted, about the managing and commanding of this many-headed confusion. Long sufferance begets custom; custom, consent and imitation. We had tootoo many infected and ill-borne minds, without corrupting the good, the sound and the generous. So that, if we continue any time, it will prove a difficult matter to find out a man unto whose skill and sufficiency, the health or recovery of this state may be committed in trust, if fortune shall happily be pleased to restore it us again. Hunc saltem everso inven●m succurrere scclo, Ne prohibete. Forbid not yet this youth at least, To aid this age more then oppressed. What is become of that ancient precept; That Soldiers ought more to fear their General than their enemy? And of that wonderful exampleless example: That the Roman army having upon occasion enclosed within her trenches, and round-beset an apple-orchard; so obedient was she to her Captains, that the next morning, it rose and marched away without entering the same or touching one apple, although they were full-ripe and very delicious: So that when the owner came, he found the full number of his apples? I should be glad, that our Youths, in stead of the time they employ about less profitable peregrinations, and less honourable apprentishippes, would bestow one moiety, in seeing and observing the wars that happen on the sea, under some good Captain or excellent Commander of Malta; the other moiety in learning and surveying the discipline of the Turkish armies. For it hath many differences and advantages over ours. This ensueth, that here our Soldiers become more licentious in expeditions, there they prove more circumspect and fearfully wary. For, small offences and petty larcenies, which in times of peace, are in the common people punished with whipping or bastonadoes, in times of war are capital crimes. For an egg taken by a Turk without paying, he is by their law to have the full number of fifty stripes with a cudgel. For every other thing, how sleight soever not necessary for man's feeding, even for very trifles, they are either thrust through with a sharp stake, which they call Empaling, or presently beheaded. I have been amazed, reading the story of Selim, the cruelest Conqueror that ever was, to see, at what time he subdued the Country of Egypt, the beauteous-goodly gardines round about the City of Damascus, all open and in a conquered Country; his main army lying encamped round about, those gardens were left untouched and unspoiled by the hands of his Soldiers, only because they were commanded to spoil nothing, and ●ad not the watchword of pillage. But is there any malady in a Commonweal, that deserveth to be combated by so mortal drug? No said Favonius, not so much as the usurpation of the tyrannical possession of a Commonwealth. Plato likewise is not willing one should offer violence to the quiet repose of his-countries no not to reform or cure the same; and alloweth not that reformation, which disturbeth or hazardeth the whole estate; and which is purchased with the blood and ruin of the Citizens. Establishing the office of an honest man, in these causes, to leave all there: But only to pray God, to lend his extraordinary assisting hand unto it. And seemeth to be offended with Dyon his great friend, to have therein proceeded somewhat otherwise. I was a Platonist on that side before ever I knew there had been a Plato in the world. And if such a man ought absolutely be banished our commerce, and refused our society: (he who for the sincerity of his conscience, deserved by mean of divine favour, athwart the public darkness, and through the general ignorance of the world wherein he lived, so far to enter and so deeply to penetrate into chaistian light) I do not think, that it befitteth us, to be instructed by a Pagan. Oh what impiety is it, to expect from God no succour simply his, and without our cooperation. I often doubt, whether amongst so many men, that meddle with such a matter, any hath been found of so weak an understanding, that hath earnestly been persuaded, he proceeded toward reformation, by the utmost of deformations; that he drew toward his salvation, by the most express causes, that we have of undoubted damnation: that overthrowing policy, disgracing magistrates, abusing laws, under whose tuition God hath placed him; filling brotherly minds and loving hearts, with malice, hatred and murder; calling the Devils and furies to his help; he may bring assistance to the most sacred mildness and justice of divine Law. Ambition, avarice, cruelty and revenge have not sufficient props and natural impetuousity; let us allure and stir them up by the glorious title of justice and devotion. There can no worse estate of things be imagined, than where wickedness cometh to be lawful: And with the Magistrates leave, to take the cloak of virtue: Nihil in speciem fallacius, quam prava religio, ubi deorum numen praetenditur sceleribus. There is nothing more deceitful to show, than corrupt religion, when the power of Heaven is made a pretence and cloak for wickedness. The extreme kind of injustice (according to Plato) is, that that which is unjust, should be held for just. The common people suffered therein greatly then; not only present losses. — undique totis Vsque adeo turbatur agris.— Such revel and tumultuous rout In all the country round about. But also succeeding dommages. The living were feign to suffer, so did such as then were scarce borne. They were robbed and peeled, and by consequence so was I, even of hope: spoiling and depriving them of all they had to provide their living for many years to come. Quae nequeunt secum ferre aut abducere, perdunt, Et cremat insontes turba scelesta casas: Muris nulla fides, squallent popularibus agri. They reckless spoil and spill what draw or drive they may not, Guilty rogues to set fire on guiltless houses stay not. In walls no trust, the field By spoil grows waste and wild. Besides these mischiefs, I endured some others. I incurred the inconveniences that moderation bringeth in such diseases. I was shaved on all hands: To the Chibelin I was a Guelf, to Guelf a Ghibelin. Some one of my Poets expresseth as much, but I wot not where it is. The situation of my house, and the acquaintance of such as dwelled round about me, presented me with one visage; my life and actions with another. No formal accusations were made of it; for there was nothing to take hold of. I never opposed myself against the laws; and who had called me in question, should have lost by the bargain. They were mute suspicions, that ran under hand, which never want appearance in so confused a hurly burly, no more than lack of envious or foolish wits. I commonly afford aid unto injurious presumption, that fortune scattereth against me; by a fashion I never had, to avoid justifying, excusing or interpreting myself; deeming it to be a putting of my conscience to compromise, to plead for her, Perspicuitas enim, argumentation elevatur: For the cleared of a cause, is lessened by the arguing. And as if every man saw into me as clear as I do myself, in am of withdrawing, I advance myself to the accusation and rather endear it; by an erroneous and scoffing confession: except I flatly hold my peace, as of a thing unworthy any answer. But such as take it for an over-proud confidence, do not much less disesteem and hate me for it, than such as take it for weakness of an indefensible cause. Namely the great, with whom want of submission, is the extreme fault. Rude to all justice, that is known or felt: not demisse, humble or suppliant. I have often stumbled against that pillar. So it is, that by the harms which befell me, an ambitious man would have hanged himself; and so would a covetons churl. I have no care at all to acquire or get. Sit mihi quod nunc est, etiam minus, ut mihi vivam Quod superest aevi, si quid superesse volent dij. Hor lib. 1 epist. 18. 107. Let me have, that I have, or less, so I may live Unto myself the rest, if any rest God give. But losses that come unto me by others injury, be in larceny or violence, pinch me, in a manner as one sick and tortured with avarice. An offence causeth undoubtedly more grief and sharpness, than a loss. A thousand several kinds of mischiefs fell upon me one in the neck of another; I should more stoutly have endured them, had they come all at once. I bethought myself, amongst my friends, to whom I might commit a needy, a defective and unfortunate old age: But after I had surveyed them all, and cast mine eyes every where, I found myself bare and far to seek. For one to souse himself down headlong, and from so great a height, he should heedily forecast that it may be in the arms of a solid, steadfast, vigorous and fortunate affection. They are rare, if there be any. In the end I perceived the best and safest way, was to trust both myself and my necessity, unto myself. And if it should happen to be but meanly and faintly in Fortune's grace, I might more effectually recommend myself unto mine own favour, more closely fasten and more nearly look unto myself. In all things men rely upon strange props, to spare their own: only certain and only powerful, know they but how to arm themselves with them. Every man runneth out and unto what is to come, because no man is yet come into himself. And I resolved, that they were profitable inconveniences: forsomuch as when reason will not serve, we must first warn untoward Scholars with the rod; as with fire and violence of wedges, we bring a crooked piece of wood to be strait. It is long since I call, to keep myself unto myself, and live sequestered from alience and strange things notwithstanding I daily start out and cast mine eyes aside. Inclination, a great man's favourable word, a kind look doth tempt me. God he knows whether there be penury of them nowadays, and what sense they bear. I likewise, without frowning, listen to the subornings, framed to draw me to some town of merchandise or city of traffic; and so coldly defend myself, that it seems I should rather endure to be overcome, than not. Now to a spirit so indocile, blows are required: and this vessel, that of itself is so ready to warp, to unhoope, to escape and fall in pieces, must be closed, hooped and strongly knocked with an adze. Secondly, that this accident served me as an exercitation to prepare myself for worse, if worse might happen: if I, who both by the benefit of fortune and condition of my manners, hoped to be of the last, should by this tempest be one of the first surprised. Instructing myself betimes, to force my life and frame it for a new state. True-perfect liberty, is, for one to be able to do and work all things upon himself. Potentissimus est qui se habet in potestate. He is of most power, that Sen. epist. 9 keeps himself in his own power. In ordinary and peaceful times, a man prepares himself for common and moderate accidents: but in this confusion, wherein we have been these thirty years, every French man, be it in general or in particular, doth hourly see himself upon the point of his fortunes overthrow and downfall. By so much more ought each one have his courage stored and his mind fraughted, with more strong and vigorous provisions: Let us thank Fortune, that hath not made us live in an effeminate, idle and languishing age: Some, whom other means could never bring unto it, shall make themselves famous by their misfortunes. As I read not much in Histories, these confusions of other states, without regret, that I could not better them present; So doth my curiosity make me somewhat please myself, with mine eyes to see this notable spectacle of our public death; her symptoms and forms. And since I could not hinder the same, I am content to be appointed as an assistant unto it, and thereby instruct myself. Yet seek we evidently to know in shadows, and understand by fabulous representations upon theatres, to show of the tragic revolutions of human fortune. It is not with out compassion of that we hear, but we please ourselves to rouse up our displeasure, by the rareness of these pitiful events. Nothing tickles, that pincheth not. And good Historians avoid calm narrations, as a dead water or mort-mere; to retreeve seditions & find out wars, whereto they know we call them. I doubt whether I may lawfully avow, at how base a rate of my life's rest and tranquillity, I have passed it more than half in the ruin of my Country. In accidents that touch me not in my freehold, I purchase patience very cheap; and to complain to myself, I respect not so much what is taken from me, as what is left me both within and without. There is comfort, in sometimes eschewing one, and sometimes another of the evils, that one in the neck of another surprise us, and elsewhere strike us round about. As matters of public interests, according as my affection is more universally scattered, she is thereby more enfeebled. Since it is half true: Tantum ex publicis malis sentimus, quantum ad privatas res pertinet. We feel so much of common harms as appertain to our private estate. And that the health whence we fell was such, that herself solaceth the regret we should have for her. It was health, marry but in comparison of the contagion, which hath followed the same. We are not fallen very high. The corruption and the brigandage, which now is in office and dignity, seems to me the least tolerable. We are less injuriously robbed in the midst of a wood, than a place of security It was an universal coherency of members spoiled a-vie one another; and most of them, with old-rankled ulcers, which neither admitted nor demanded recovery. Truly this shaking-fit did therefore more animate then deter me, only by the aid of my conscience, which not only quietly, but fiercely carrîed itself; and I found no cause to complain, of myself. Likewise, as God never sends men either evils or goods absolutely pure; my health held out well for that time, yea against her ordinary: And as without it I can do nothing, so with it, there are few things I cannot do. She gave me means to summon and rouse up all my provisions, and to bear my hand before my hurt, which happily would have gone further: And proved in my patience, that yet I had some hold against fortune; and that to thrust me out of my saddle, ther● was required a stronger counterbuff. This I speak not, to provoke her to give me a more vigorous charge. I am her servant, and yield myself unto her: For God's sake let her be pleased. Demand you whether I feel her assaults? I do indeed. As those whom sorrow possesseth and overwhelmeth, do notwithstanding at one time or other suffer themselves by intermissions to be touched by some pleasure, and now and then smile. I have sufficient power over myself, to make mine ordinary state quiet and free from all tedious and irksome imaginations; but yet I sometimes suffer myself by starts to be surprised with the pinch of these unpleasant conceits, which whilst I arm myself to expel or wrestle against them, assail and beat me. Lo here another huddle or tide of mischief; that on the neck of the former came rushing upon me. Both within and round about my house, I was overtaken, in respect of all other, with a most contagious pestilence. For, as soundest bodies are subject to grievous diseases, because they only can force them: so the air about me being very healthy, where in no man's momory, infection (although very near) could ever take footing: coming now to be poisoned brought forth strange effects. Mista senum & iuvenum densantur funer a nullum H●r. car. l. 1. ●d. 28. 19 Saeva caput Proserpina fugit. Of old and young thick funerals are shared; By cruel Proserpina no head is spared. I was feign to endure this strange condition, that the sight of my house was irksome unto me. Whatever was therein, lay all at random, no man looked thereunto; and was free for any that had a mind unto it. I who have so long been a good housekeeper, and used to hospitality, was much troubled and put to my shifts, how to find out some retreat for my family. A dismayed and scattered family, making both herself and her friends afraid, and breeding horror where it sought to retire for shelter; being now to shift and change her dwelling, so soon as any of the company began to feel his finger ache, all the rest were dismayed. Every sickness is then taken for the plague: none hath leisure to consider them. And the mischief is, that according to rules of art, what danger soever approacheth, a man must continue forty days in anxiety or fear of that evil; in which time your own imagination doth perplex you as she list and infect your health. All which had much less touched me, had I not been forced to bear other men's burdens and partake all their grievances, and for six months' space, in miserable manner, to be a woeful guide to so greatconfused a Caravane. For I ever carry my preseruatives about me, which are resolution and sufferance. Apprehension doth not greatly press me; which is particularly feared in this sickness. And if being alone, I should have taken it, it had been a stronger and further flight: It is a death in mine opinion, not of the worst: It is commonly short and speeding void of lingering giddiness, without pain, comforted by the public condition; without ceremony without mourning, and without thronging. But for the people about us, the hundredth part of souls cannot be saved. — videas desertáque regna Pastorum, & long saltus latéque vacantes. Kingdoms of shepherds desolate forlorn, Parks far and near lie waste, a state all torn. In that place, my best revenue is manual: what a hundred men laboured for me, lay fallow for a long time. What examples of resolution saw we not then in all this people's simplicity? Each one generally renounced all care of life. The grapes (which are the country's chief commodity) hung still and rotten upon the vines untouched: all indifferently preparing themselves, and expecting death, either that night or the next morrow: with countenance and voice so little daunted, that they seemed to have compromitted to this necessity, and that it was an universal and inevitable condemnation. It is ever such. But what slender hold hath the resolution of dying? The difference and distance of some few hours: the only consideration of the company yields the apprehension divers unto us. Behold these because they die in one same month, children, young, old; they are no more astonished, they are no longer wept▪ for. I saw some that feared to stay behind, as if they had been in some horrid solitude: And commonly I knew no other care amongst them, but for graves: it much grieved them, to see the dead carcases scattered over the fields, at the mercy of wild beasts; which presently began to flock thither. Oh how human fantasies differ and are easily disjoined! The Neorites, a nation whilom subdued by Alexander the Great, cast out their dead men's bodies into the thickest of their woods, there to be devoured: the grave only esteemed happy among them. Some in good health digged already their graves, othersome yet living did go into them. And a day-labourer of mine, as he was dying, with his own hands and feet pulled earth upon him, and so covered himself. Was not this a lying down in the shade to sleep at ease? An enterprise in some sort as highly noble, as that of some Roman Soldiers, who after the battle of Canna, were found with their heads in certain holes or pits, which themselves had made, and filled up with their hands, wherein they were smothered. To conclude, a whole nation was presently by use brought to a march, that in undantednesse yields not to any consulted and fore-meditated resolution. The greatest number of learning's instructions, to encourage us have more show than force, and more ornament than fruit. We have forsaken nature, and yet we will teach her her lesson: She, that lead us so happily, and directed us so safely: And in the mean while, the traces of her instructions and that little, which by the benefit of ignorance, remaineth of her image, imprinted in the life of this rustical troop of unpolished men; learning is compelled to go daily a borrowing, thereby to make her disciples a pattern of constancy, of innocency and of tranquility. It is a goodly matter to see how these men full of so great knowledge, must imitate this foolish simplicity; yea in the first and chief actions of virtue. And that our wisdom should learn of beasts, the most profitable documents, belonging to the chiefest and most necessari: parts of our life. How we should live and die, husband our goods, love and bring up our children, and entertain justice. A singular testimony of man's infirmity: and that this reason we so manage at our pleasure, ever finding some diversity and novelty, leaveth unto us no manner of apparent track of nature. Wherewith men have done, as perfumers do with oil, they have adulterated her, with so many argumentations, and sofisticated her with so divers far-fetched discourses, that she is become variable and peculiar to every man, and hath lost her proper, constant and universal visage: whereof we must seek for a testimony of beasts, not subject to favour or corruption, nor to diversity of opinions. For it is most true, that themselves march not always exactly in nature's path, but if they chance to stray, it is so little, that you may ever perceive the track. Even as horses led by hand do sometimes bound and start out of the way, but no further than their halter's length, and nevertheless follow ever his steps that leadeth them: And as a Hawk takes his flight but under the limits of her crane's or twine. Exilia, tormenta, bella, morbos, naufragia meditare, ut nullo sis malo tyro. Banishments, torments, wars; sicknesses, shipwrecks, all these forecast and premeditate, that thou mayest seem no novice no freshwater Soldier to any misadventure. What availeth this curiosity unto us, to preoccupate all human nature's inconveniences, and with so much labour and toiling against them, to prepare ourselves, which peradventure shall nothing concern us? (Parem passis tristitiam facit, patiposse. It makes men as sad that they may suffer some mischief, as if they had suffered it. Not only the blow, but the wind and crack strikes us) Or as the most febricitant, for surely it is a kind of fever, now to cause yourself to be whipped, because fortune may one day chance to make you endure it: and at Midsummer to put-on your furred Gown, because you shall need it at Christmas? Cast yourselves into the experience of all the mischiefs, that may befall you, namely of the extremest: there try yourself (say they) there assure yourself. Contrariwise, the easiest and most natural, were even to discharge his thought of them. They will not come soon enough, their true being doth not last us long enough, our spirit must extend and lengthen them, and before hand incorporate them into himself, and therewith entertain himself, as if they lay not sufficiently heavy on our senses. They will weigh heavy enough, when they shall be there, (saith one of the masters, not of a tender, but of the hardest Sect) mean while favour thyself: Believe what thou lovest best: What avails it thee to collect and prevent thy ill fortune: and for fear of the future, lose the present; and now to be miserable, because in time thou mayest be so? They are his own words. Learning doth us willingly one good office, exactly to instruct us in the dimensions of evils. Curis acuens mortalia corda. men's cogitations whetting, With sharp cares inly fretting. It were pity, any part of their greatness should escape our feeling and understanding. It is certain, that preparation unto death, hath caused more torment unto most, than the very sufferance. It was whilom truly said, of and by a most judicious Author: Minus afficit sensus fatigati●, quam cogitatio. Weariness less troubleth our senses, than pensiveness doth. The apprehension of present death, doth sometimes of itself animate us, with a ready resolution, no longer to avoid a thing altogether inevitable. Many Gladiators have in former ages been seen, having at first fought very cowardly, most courageously to embrace death; offering their throat to the enemy's sword, yea and bid them make haste. The sight distant from future death hath need of a slow constancy, and by consequence hard to be found. If you know not how to die, take no care for it; Nature herself will fully and sufficiently teach you in the nick, she will exactly discharge that work for you; trouble not yourself with it. Incert am frustra mortales funeris horam Catul. ●●●g. 1. 29. 16. Quaeritis, & qua sit mors aditur a via: Pana minor certam subitò perferre●●inam, Quod time as, gravius sustinuisse di●. Of death th'uncertain hour you men in vain Inquire, and what way loath shall you distrain: A certain sudden ruin is less pain, More grievous long what you fear to sustain. We trouble death with the care of life, and life with the care of death. The one annoyeth, the other assrights us. It is not against death, we prepare ourselves; it is a thing too momentary. A quarter of an hour of passion without consequence and without annoyance, deserves not particular precepts. To say truth, we prepare ourselves against the preparations of death. Philosophy teacheth us, ever to have death before our eyes, to foresee and consider it before it come: Then giveth us rules and precautions so to provide, that such foresight and thought hurt us not. So do Physicians, who cast us into diseases, that they may employ their drugs and skill about them. If we have not known how to live, it is injustice to teach us how to die, and deform the end from all the rest. Have we known how to live constantly and quietly, we shall know how to die resolutely and rep●sedly. They may brag as much as they please. Tota Philosophorum vita commentatio mortis est. The whole life of a Philosop is the meditation of his death. But me thinks, it is indeed the end, yet not the scope of life. It is her last, it is her extremity; yet not her object. Herself must be unto herself, her aim, her drift and her design. Her direct study is, to order, to direct and to suffer herself. In the number of many other offices, which the general and principal Chapter, to know how to live containeth, is this special Article, To know how to die. And of the easiest, did not our own fear weigh it down. To judge them by their profit and by the naked truth, the lessons of simplicity, yield not much to those, which Doctrine preacheth to the contrary unto us. Men are different in feeling, and divers in force: they must be directed to their good, according to themselves and by diverse ways: Quò me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes. Hor l. 1. epist. 1. 15. Where I am whirled by wind and wether, I guest-like strait am carried thither. I never saw mean peasant of my neighbours, enter into cogitation or care, with what assurance or countenance, he should pass this last hour. Nature teacheth him never to muse on death, but when he dieth. And then hath he a better grace in it, than Aristotle; whom death perplexed doubly, both by herself and by so long a premeditation. Therefore was it Caesar's opinion, that The least premeditated death, was the happiest and the easiest. Plus dolet, quam necesse est, qui ante dolet, quam necesse est. He grieves more than he need, That grieves before he need. The sharpness of this imagination, proceeds from our curiosity. Thus we ever hinder ourselves; desiring to forerun and sway natural prescriptions: It is but for Doctors being in health, to far the worse by it, and to frown and startle at the image of death. The vulgar sort, have neither need of remedy nor comfort, but when the shock or stroke cometh. And justly considers no more of it, than he seeleth. And is it not as we say, that the vulgares stupidity and want of apprehension, afford them this patience in private evils, and this deep carelessness of sinister future accidents? That their mind being more gross, dull and blockish, is less penetrable and agitable? In God's name, if it be so, let us hence forth keep a school of brutality. It is the utmost fruit that Sciences promise unto us, to which she so gently bringeth her disciples. We shall not want good teachers, interpreters of natural simplicity. Socrates shall be one. For, as near as I remember, he speaketh in this sense unto the judges, that determine of his life: I fear me my masters (saith he) that if I entreat you not to make me die, I shall confirm the evidence of my accusers; which is, That I profess to have more understanding than others; as having some knowledge more secret and hid of things both above and beneath us. I know I have neither frequented nor known death, nor have I seen any body, that hath either felt or tried her qualities, to instruct me in them. Those who fear her, presuppose to know: As for me, I neither know who or what she is, nor what they do in the other world. Death may peradventure be a thing indifferent, happily a thing desirable. Yet is it to be believed, that if it be a transmigration from one place to another, there is some amendment in going to live with so many worthy famous persons, that are deceased; and be exempted from having any more to do with wicked and corrupted judges. If it be a consummation of one's being, it is also an amendment and entrance into a long and quiet night. We find nothing so sweet in life, as a quiet rest and gentle sleep, and without dreams. The things I know to be wicked, as to wrong or offend one's neighbour; and to disobey his superior, be he God or man, I carefully sh●nne them: Such as I know not whether they be good or bad, I cannot fear them. If I go to my death, and leave you alive; the Gods only see, whether you or I shall prosper best. And therefore, for my regard, you shall dispose of it, as it shall best please you. But according to my fashion, which is to counsel good and profitable things, this I say, that for your own conscience you shall do best to free and discharge me: except you see further into mine own cause than myself. And judging according to my former actions, both public and private, according to my intentions, and to the profit, that so many of our Citizens, both young and old, draw daily from my conversation, and the fruit, all you reap by me you cannot more justly or duly discharge yourselves toward my deserts, than by appointing (my poverty considered) that I may live, and at the common charge be kept, in the Brytan●o: which for much less reasons, I have often seen you freely grant to others. Impute it not to obstinacy or disdain in me, nor tak● it in ill part, that I, according to custom proceed not by way of entreaty, and move you to commiseration. I have both friends and kinsfolks, being not (as Homer saith) begotten of a block or stone, no more than other men: capable to present themselves humbly suing with tears and mourning: and I have three desolate wailing children to move you to pity. But I should make your City ashamed, of the age I am in, and in that reputation of wisdom, as now I stand in prevention to yield unto so base and abject countenances. What would the world say of other Athenians? I have ever admonished such as have heard me speak, never to purchase or redeem their life, by any dishonest or unlawful act. And in my country's wars, both at Amphipolis, at Potidea, at Delia, and others, in which I have been, I have shown by effects, how far I was from warranting my safety by my shame. Moreover, I should interest your duty, and prejudice your calling, and persuade you to feule unlan full things; for, not my prayers, but the pure and bolide reasons of justice should persuade you. You have swarm to the Gods, so to maintain yourselves. Not to believe there were any, might seem I would suspect, recriminate or retort the fault upon you. And myself should witness against myself, not to believe in them as I ought: distructing their conduct, and not merely remitting my affairs into their hands. I wholly trust and rel●e on them; and certainly hold, that in this, they will dispose as it shall be nocetest for you, and fittest for me. Honest men, that neither live, nor are dead, have no cause at all to fear the Gods. Is not this a childish pleading, of an inimaginable courage; and in what necessity employed? Verily it was reason, he should prefer it before that, which the great Orator Lysia● had set down in writing for him; excellency fashioned in a judiciary Stile; but unworthy of so noble a criminal. Should a man have heard an humbly-suing voice out of Socrates his mouth? Would that proud virtue have failed in the best of her show? And would his rich and powerful nature, have committed her defence unto art, and in her highest Essay, renounced unto truth and sincerity, the ornaments of his speech, to adorn and deck himself with the embellishment of the figures and fictions of a fore-lern'nt Oration; He did most wisely, and according to himself, not to corrupt the tenure of an incorruptible life, & so sacred an image of human form, to prolong his decrepitude for one year; and wrong the immortal memory of so glorious an end. He ought his life, not to himself, but to the world's example. Had it not been a public loss, if he had finished the same in some idle, base and obscure manner? Truly, so careless and effeminate a consideration of his death, deserved, posterity should so much more consider the same for him: which it did. And nothing is so just in justice, as that, which fortune ordained for his commendation. For the Athenians did afterward so detest and abhor those, which had furthered and caused his death, that of all they were loathed and shunned as cursed and excommunicated men: what soever they had but touched was held to be polluted: No man would so much as wash with them in baths or hothouses: no man afford them a salutation, much less accost or have to do with them: so that being in the end no longer able to endure this public hatred and general contempt, they all hanged themselves. If any man thinks, that amongst so many examples, I might have chosen for the service of my purpose, in Socrates his sayings, I have chosen or handled this but ill: and deemeth this disccurse, to be raised above common opinions: I have done it wittingly: for I judge otherwise. And hold it to be a discourse, in rank and sincerity, much shorter and lower, then vulgar opinions. It representeth in an unartificiall boldness, and infantine security, the pure impression and first ignorance of nature. Because it is credible, that we naturally fear pain, but not death, by reason of her. It is a part of our being, no less essential than life. To what end would Nature have else engendered the hate and horror of it, seeing it holds thererein and with it a rank of most great profit, to foster the succession, and nourish the vicissitude of her works? And that in this universal Commonweal, it steadeth and serveth more for birth and augmentation, then for loss, decay or ruin. Sic rerum summa novatur. Luer. l. 2 73. So doth the sum of all, By courses rise and fall. mill animas una necat a dedit. We thousand souls shall pay, For one soul made away▪ The decay of one life, is the passage to a thousand other lives. Nature hath imprinted in beasts, the care of themselves and of their preservation. They proceed even to the fear of their impairing; to shock or hurt themselves: and that we should not shackle or beat them, accidents subject to their sense and experience: But that we should kill them, they cannot fear it, nor have they the faculty to imagine or conclude their death. Yet is it reported, that they are not seen only to embrace and endure the same joyfully (most Horses neigh in dying, and Swans sing when it seizeth them.) But moreover, they seek it when they need it; as by diverse examples may be proved in the Elephants. Besides, the manner of arguing, which Socrates useth here, is it not equally admirable, both in simplicity and in vehemency? Verily It is much ●asier, to speak as Aristotle, and live as Caesar, than speak and live as Socrates. Therein consists the extreme degree of difficulty and perfection; art cannot attain unto it. Our faculties are not now so addressed. We neither assay, nor know them; we invest ourselves with others, and suffer our own to be idle. As by some might be said of me: that here I have but gathered a nosegay of strange flowers, and have put nothing of mine unto it, but the thread to bind them. Certes, I have given unto public opinion, that these borrowed ornaments accompany me; but I mean not they should cover or hide me: it is contrary to mine intention, who would make show of nothing that is not mine own, yea and mine own by nature: And had I believed myself, at all adventure I had spoken alone. I daily charge myself the more beyond my proposition and first form, upon the fantasy of time, and through idleness. If it mis-seeme me, as I think it doth, it is no great matter; it may be profitable for some other. Some allege Plato, and some mention Homer, that never saw them, or as they say in English, many a man speaks of Robin hood, that never shot in his how: And I have taken divers passages from others then in their spring. Without pain or sufficiency; having a thousand volumes of books about me, where now I write, if I please, I may presently borrow from a number of such botcherlypatchcotes (men that I plod not much upon) wherewith to enamel this treaty of Physiognomy. I need but the liminary epistle of a German to store me with allegations: and we go questing that way for a fading greedy glory, to cousin and delude the foolish world, These rhapsodies of common places, wherewith so many stuff their study, serve not greatly but for vulgar subjects, and serve but to show and not to direct us: A ridiculous-fond fruit of learning, that Socrates doth so pleasantly inveigh and exagitate against Euthydemus. I have seen books made of things neither studied nor ever understood: the author coming to divers of his learned and wise friends the search of this and that matter, that so he might compile them into a book, contenting himself for his own part, to have cast the plot and projected the design of it, and by his industry to have bound up the faggot of unknown provisions: at least is the ink and paper his own. This may be said to be a buying or borrowing, and not a making or compiling of a book. It is to teach men, not that one can make a book, but to put them out of doubt, that he cannot make it. A precedent of the law, in a place where I was, vaunted himself, to have huddled up together two hundred and odd strange places in a presidential law-case of his: In publishing of which, he defaced the glory, which others gave him for it. A weak, childish and absurd boasting in my opinion, for such a subject and for such a man. I do clean contrary; and amongst so many borrow, am indeed glad to filch some one; disguising and altering the same to some new service. On hazard, to let men say, that it is for lack of understanding it's naturally use, I give it some particular addressing of mine own hand, to the end it may be so much less merely strange. Whereas these put their larcenies to public view and garish show. So have they more credit in the laws, than I. We other naturalists suppose, that there is a great and in comparable preference, between the honour of invention and that of allegation. Would I have spoken according to learning. I had spoken sooner: I had written at such times as I was nearer to my studies, when I had more wit and more memory; and should more have trusted the vigour of that age, than the imperfection of this, had I been willing to profess writing of books. And what if this gracious favour, which fortune hath not long since offered me by the intermission of this work, could have befallen me in such a season, in lieu of this, where it is equally desirable to possess, and ready to lose? Two of mine acquaintance (both notable men in this faculty) have, in my conceit, lost much because they refused to publish themselves at forty years of age, to stay until they were three score. Maturity hath her defects, aswell as greenness, and worse. And as in commodious or unfit is old age unto this kind of work, as to any other. Whosoever put's his decrepitude under the press, committeth folly, if thereby he hopes to wring out humours, that shall not taste of dotage, of ●oppery, or of drowsiness. Our spirit becometh costive and thickens in growing old. Of ignorance I speak sumptuously and plenteously, and of learning meagerly and piteously: This accessorily and accidentally; That expressly and principally. And purposely I treat of nothing, but of nothing; nor of any one science but of unscience. I have chosen the time, where the life I have to set forth, is all before me, the rest holds more of death. And of my death only should I find it babbling, as others do, I would willingly, in dislodging, give the World advise. Socrates hath been a perfect pattern in all great qualities. I am vexed, that ever he met with so unhandsome and crabbed a body, as they say he had, and so dissonant from the beauty of his mind. Himself so amorous and so besotted on beauty. Nature did him wrong. There is nothing more truly semblable, as the conformity or relation between the body and the mind. Ipsi animi, magni refert, quali in copore locati sint: multa enim è corpore existunt, quae acuant mentem: multa, quae obtundant. It is of great import in what body the mind is bestowed: for many things arise of the body to sharpen the mind, and many things to dull and rebate it. This man speaks of an unnatural illfavourdnesse, and membrall deformity: but we call illfavourdnesse a kind of unseemliness at the first sight, which chiefly lodgeth in the face; and by the colour worketh a dislike in us; A freckle, a blemish, a rude countenance, a sour look, proceeding often of some inexplicable cause, may be in well ordered, comely and complete limbs. The foulness of face, which invested a beauteous mind in my dear friend La Boitie, was of this predicament. This superficial illfavourdnesse, which is notwithstanding to the most imperious, is of less prejudice unto the state of the mind: and hath small certainty in men's opinion. The other, by a more proper name called a more substantial deformity, beareth commonly a deeper inward stroke. Not every shoe of smooth-shining leather, but every well-shapen and hansome-made shoe, showeth the inward and right shape of the foot. As Socrates said of his, that it justly accused so much in his mind had he not corrected the same by institution. But in so saying, I suppose, that according to his wont use, he did but jest: and so excellent a mind, did never frame itself. I cannot often enough repeat, how much I esteem beauty, so powerful and advantageous a quality is she. He named it, a short tyranny: And Plato the privilege of Nature. We have none that exceeds it in credit. She possesseth the chief rank in the commerce of society of men: She presents itself forward: she seduceth and preoccupates our judgement, with great authority and wonderful impression. Phryne had lost her plea, though in the hands of an excellent lawyer, if with opening her garments, by the sudden flashing of her beauty, she had not corrupted her judges. And I find, that Cyrus▪ Alexannder and Caesar those three Masters of the World, have not forgotten or neglected the same in achieving their great affairs. So hath not the first Scipio. One same word in Greek importeth fair and good. And even the Holy-Ghost calleth often those good, which he meaneth fair. I should willingly maintain the rank of the goods, as employed the song, which Plato saith to have been trivial, taken from some ancient Poet; Health beeuty and riches. Aristotle saith, that the right of commanding, doth of duty belong to such as are fair; and if haply any be found, whose beauty approached to that of the God's images, that veneration is equally due unto them. To one that asked him, why the fairest were both longer time and oftener frequented? This question (quoth he) ought not to be moved but by a blind man. Most, and the greatest Philosophers, paid for their schooling and attained unto Wisdom, by the intermission of their beauty, and favour their comeliness. Not only in men that serve me, but in beasts also, I consider the same within two inches of goodness. Yet me thinks, that the same feature and manner of the face and those lineaments, by which some argue certain inward complexions, and our future fortunes, is a thing that doth not directly nor simply lodge under the Chapter of beauty and ill favourdnesse; no more than all good favours, or clearness of air, do not always promise health; nor all fogs and stinks, infection, in times of the plague. Such as accuse Ladies to contradict the beauty, by their manners, guess not always at the truth. For, In an ill favoured and ill composed face, may sometimes harbour some air of probity, and trust. As on the contrary, I have sometimes read between two fair eyes, the threats of a malign and dangerous illboding nature. There are some favourable Physiognomies; For in a throng of victorious enemies, you shall presently ammiddest a multitude of unknown faces, make choice of one man more than of others, to yield yourself unto and trust yòur life; and not properly by the consideration of beauty. A man's loòke or air of his face, is but a weak warrant; notwithstanding it is of some consideration. And were I to whip them, I would more rudely scourge such as maliciously belly & betray the promises, which Nature had charactered in their front. And more severely would I punish malicious craft in a debonair appearance and in a mild promising countenance. It seemeth there be some lucky and well boding faces, and other some unlucky and ill presaging: And I think, there is some Art to distinguish gently-milde faces, from nyaes and simple; the severe from the rude; the malicious from the froward; the disdainful from the melancholic and other neighbouring qualities. There are some beauties, not only fierce-looking, but also sharpe-working, some others pleasing-sweete, and yet wallowishly tastlesse. To prognosticate future successes of them, be matters I leave undecided. I have (as elsewhere I noted) taken for my regard this ancient precept, very rawly and simply: That We cannot err in following Nature: and that the sovereign document is, for a man to conform himself to her. I have not (as Socrates) by the power and virtue of reason, corrected my natural complexions, nor by Art hindered mine inclination. Look how I came into the World, so I goeon: I strive with nothing. My two Mistress parts, live of their own kindness in peace and good agreement; but my nurse's milk, hath (thanks be to God) been indifferently wholesome and temperate. Shall I say thus much by the way? That I see a certain image of bookish or scholastical preud'hommie, only which is in a manner in use amongst us, held and reputed in greater esteem than it deserveth, and which is but a servant unto precepts, brought under by hope, and constrained by fear? I love it such as laws and religions make not, but over-make and authorize; that they may be perceived to have wherewith to uphold herself without other aid: sprung up in us of her own proper roots, by and from the seed of universal reason, imprinted in every man that is not unnatural. The same reason, that reformeth Socrates from his vicious habit, yields him obedient both to Gods and men, that rule and command his City: courageous in his death; not because his soul is immortal, but because he is mortal. A ruinous instruction to all commonweals and much more harmful, than ingenious and subtle, is that which persuadeth men, that only religious belief, and without manners, sufficeth to content and satisfy divine justice. Custom makes us see an enormous distinction between devotion and conscience. I have a favourable appearance, both in form and in interpretation. Quid dixi habere me? Imò habui Chreme: Heu tantùm attriti corporis ossavides. Ter H●a●▪ act. ● sc●. 1. I have; what did I say; I had what's now away. Alas, you only now behold, Bones of a body worn and old. And which makes a contrary show to that of Socrates. It hath often betided me, that by the simple credit of my presence and aspect, some that had no knowledge of me, have greatly trusted unto it, were it about their own affairs or mine. And even in foreign countries, I have thereby reaped singular and rare favours. These two experiments, are happily worthy to be particularly related. A quidam gallant, determined upon a time to surprise both my house and myself. His plot was, to come riding alone to my gate, and instantly to urge entrance. I knew him by name▪ and had some reason to trust him, being my neighbour and somewhat allied unto me. I presently caused my gates to be opened, as I do to all men. He comes-in all affrighted, his horse out of breath; both much harassed. He entertains me with this fable; that within half a league of my house he was suddenly setupon by an enemy of his, whom I knew well and had heard of their quarrel: that his foe had wondrously put him to his spurs; that being surprised unarmed, and having fewer in his company then the other, he was glad to run away, and for safety had made haste to come to my house, as to his sanctuary: That he was much perplexed for his men, all which he supposed to be either taken or slain. I endeavoured friendly to comfort and sincerely to warrant and refresh him. Within a while came galloping four or five of his Soldiers, amazed, as if they had been out of their wits, hasting, to be letin: Shortly after came others, and others▪ all proper men, well mounted, better armed, to the number of thirty or there about, all seeming distracted for fear, as if the enemy that pursued them had been at their heels. This mystery began to summon my suspicion. I was not ignorant of the age wherein I lived, nor how much my house might be envied: and had sundry examples of others of my acquaintance, that had been spoiled, beset and surprised thus and thus. So it is, that perceiving with myself, there was nothing to be gotten, though I had begun to use them kindly, if I continued not, and being unable to rid myself of them and clear my house without danger and spoiling all; as I ever do, I took the plainest and natural well meaning way, and commanded they should be let in and bid welcome. And to say truth, I am by nature little suspicious or mistrustful, I am easily drawn to admit excuses and incline to mild interpretations. I take men according to common order, and suppose every one to mean as I do, and believe these perverse and treacherous inclinations, except I be compelled by some authentical testimony, no more than monsters or miracles. Besides, I am a man that willingly commit myself unto fortune, and carelessly cast myself into her arms: Whereof hitherto I have more just cause to commend myself, then to complain. And have found her more circumspect and friendly▪ careful of my affairs, than I am myself. There are certain actions in my life, the conduct of which may justly be termed difficult, or if any be so disposed, prudent. And of those, suppose the third part of them to be mine own; truly the other two are richly hers. We are to blame, and in my conceit we err, that we do not sufficiently and so much as we ought, trust the heavens with ourselves. And pretend more in our own conduct, then of right appertains unto us. Therefore do our designs so often miscarry, and our intents so seldom sort to wished effect. The heavens are angry, and I may say envious of the extension and large privilege we ascribe unto the right of human wisdom, to the prejudice of theirs: and abridge them so much the more unto us, by how much more we endeavour to amplify them. But to come to my former discourse. These gallants kept still on horseback in my court, and would not alight: their Captain with me in my hall, who would never have his horse setup, still saying that he would not stay, but must necessarily withdraw himself, so soon as he had news of his followers. He saw himself master of his enterprise, and nothing was wanting but the execution. He hath since reported very often, (for he was no whit scrupulous or afraid to tell this story) that my undaunted looks, my undismaide countenance, and my liberty of speech, made him reject all manner of treasonable intents or treacherous designs. What shall I say more? He bids me farewell, calleth for his horse, gets up, and offereth to be gone, his people having continually their eyes fixed upon him, to observe his looks and see what sign he should make unto them: much amazed to see him be gone, and wondering to see him omit and forsake such an advantage. An other time, trusting to a certain truce or cessation of arms, that lately had been published through our camps in France, as one suspecting no harm, I undertook a journey from home, through a dangerous and very ticklish country; I had not rid far, but I was discovered, and behold three or four troops of horsemen, all several ways, made after me, with purpose to entrap me: One of which overtook me the third day; where I was round beset and charged by fifteen or twenty Gentlemen, who had all vizardes' and cases, followed aloofe-off by a band of Argoletiers. I was charged, I yielded, I was taken and immediately drawn into the bosom of a thick Wood, that was not far-off; there pulled from my Horse, stripped with all speed, my trunks and cloak▪ bags rifled, my box taken; my Horses, my equipage and such things as I had, dispersed and shared amongst them. We continued a good while amongst those thorny bushes, contesting and striving about my ransom, which they racked so high, that it appeared well I was not much known of them. They had long contestation among themselves for my life. and to say truth: there were many circumstances, threatened me of the danger I was in. Tunc animis opus. Aenea, tunc pectore firm. Virg. A●●. l. 6. Of courage then indeed, Then of stout breast is need. I ever stood upon the title and privilege of the truce and proclamation made in the King's name, but that availed not: I was content to quit them whatever they had taken from me, which was not to be despised, without promising other ransom. After we had debated the matter to and fro, the space of two or three hours, and that no excuses could serve, they set me upon a lame jade, which they knew could never escape them, and committed the particular keeping of my person to fifteen or twenty harque-busiers, and dispersed my people to others of their crew, commanding we should all diverse ways be carried prisoners; and myself being gone two or threescore paces from them, jam pr●ce Pollucis, iam Castor is implorata. 〈…〉▪ 4. 65. Pollux and Castor's aid, When I had humbly prayed. behold a sudden & unexpected alteration took them. I saw their Captain coming towards me, with a cheerful countenance & much milder speeches than before: carefully trudging up and down through all the troops, to find out my goods again, which as he found all scattered he forced every man to restore them unto me; and even my box came to my hands again. To conclude, the most precious jewel they presented me, was my liberty; as for my other things, I cared not greatly at that time. What the true cause of so unlocked for a change and so sudden an alteration was, without any apparent impulsion, and of so wonderful repentance, at such a time, in such an opportunity and such an enterprise, fore-meditated, consulted and effected without controlment, and which through custom and the impiety of times was now become lawful, (for at the first brunt I plainly confessed, and genuinly told them what side I was of, where my way lay, and whither I was riding) I verily know not yet, nor can I give any reason for it. The chiefest amongst them unmasked himself, told me his name and repeated divers times unto me, that I should acknowledge my deliverance to my countenance, to my boldness and constancy of speech, and be beholding to them for it, insomuch as they made me unworthy of such a misfortune; and demanded assurance of me for the like courtesy. It may be, that the inscrutable goodness of God would use this vain instrument for my preservation: For, the next morrow it also shielded me from worse mischief or amboscadoes, whereof themselves gently forewarned me, The last is yet living, able to report the whole succese himself; the other was slain not long since. If my countenance had not answered for me, if the ingenuity of mine inward intent might not plainly have been deciphered in mine eyes and voice, surely I could never have continued so long, without quarrels or offences: with this indiscreet liberty, to speak freely (be it right or wrong) what ever cometh to my mind, and rashly to judge of things. This fashion may in some sort, (and that with reason) seem uncivil and ill accommodated in our customary manners: but outrageous or malicious, I could never meet with any, would so judge it, or that was ever distasted at my liberty if he received the same from my mouth. Words reported again have, as another sound, so another sense. And to say true, I hate no body; And am so remiss to offend, or slow to wrong any, that for the service of reason itself, I cannot do it. And if occasions have at any time urged me in criminal condemnations to do as others, I have rather been content to be amearced then to appear. Vt magis peccari nolim, quam satis animi, ad vindicanda peccata habeam. So as I had rather men should not offend, then that I should have courage enough to punish their offences. Some report, that Aristotle being upbraided by some of his friends, that he had been over merciful toward a wicked man: I have indeed (quoth he) been merciful toward the man, but not toward his wickedness. Ordinary judgements are exasperated unto punishment by the horror of the crime. And that enmildens me. The horror of the first murder, makes me fear a second. And the ugliness of one cruelty, induceth me to detest all manner of imitation of it. To me, that am but a plain fellow and see no higher than a steeple, may that concern, which was reported of Charillus King of Sparta: He cannot be good, since he is not bad to the wicked. Or thus; for Plutarch presents it two ways, as he doth a thousand other things diversely and contrary; He must needs be good, since he is so to the wicked. Even as in lawful actions, it grieves me to take any pains about them, when it is with such as are therewith displeased. So, to say truth, in unlawful, I make no great conscience, to employ myself or take pains about them, being with such as consent unto them. The thirteenth Chapter. Of Experience. THere is no desire more natural, then that of knowledge. We attempt all means that may bring us unto it. When reason fails us, we employ experience. Per varios usus artem experientia fecit, Exemplo monstr ante viam. Manil. lib. 1. a●●. 61. By divers proofs experience art hath bred, Whilst one by one the way examples led. Which is a mean by much more, weak and vile. But truth is of so great consequence, that we ought not disdain any induction, that may bring us unto it. Reason hath so many shapes, that we know not which to take hold of. Experience hath as many. The consequence we seek to draw from the conference of events, is unsure, because they are ever dissemblable. No quality is so universal in this surface of things, as variety and diversity. The greeks, the Latins, and we use for the most express examples of similitude, that of eggs. Some have nevertheless been found, especially one in Delphos, that knew marks of difference between eggs, and never took one for another. And having divers Hens, could rightly judge which had laid the egg. dissimilitude doth of itself insinuate into our works, no art can come near unto similitude. Neither Perozet nor any other cardemaker can so industriously smooth or whiten the backside of his cards, but some cunning gamester will distinguish them, only by seeing some other player handle or shuffle them. Resemblance doth not so much make one, as difference maketh another. Nature hath bound herself to make nothing that may not be dissemblable- Yet doth not the opinion of that man greatly please me, that supposed by the multitude of laws, to curb the authority of judges, in entering out their morsels. He perceived not, that there is as much liberty and extension in the interpretation of laws, as in their fashion. And those but mock themselves, who think to diminish our debates and stay them, by calling us to the express word of sacred Bible. Because our spirit finds not the field less spacious, to control and check the sense of others, then to represent his own: and as if there were as little courage and sharpness to gloseas to invent. We see how far he was deceived. For we have in France more laws than all the world beside; yea more than were needful to govern all the worlds imagined by Epicurus: Vt olim flagitijs, sic nunc legibus labor amus. As in times past we were sick of offences, so now are we of laws. As we have given our judges so large a scope to moot, to opinionate, to suppose and decide, that there was never so powerful and so licentious a liberty. What have our lawmakers gained with choosing a hundred thousand kinds of particular cases, and add as many laws unto them? That number hath no proportion, with the infinite diversity of human accidents. The multiplying of our inventions shall never come to the variation of examples. Add a hundred times as many unto them, yet shall it not follow, that of events to come, there be any one found, that in all this infinite number of selected and enregistered events, shall meet with one, to which he may so exactly join and match it, but some circumstance and diversity will remain, that may require a divers consideration of judgement. There is but little relation between our actions, that are in perpetual mutation, and the fixed and unmooveable laws. The most to be desired, are the rarest, the simplest and most general. And yet I believe, it were better to have none at all, then so infinite a number as we have. Nature gives them ever more happy, than those we give ourselves. Witness the image of the golden age that Poets feign; and the state wherein we see divers nations to live, which have no other. Some there are, who to decide any controversy, that may rise amongst them, will choose for judge the first man that by chance shall travel alongst their mountains: Others, that upon a market day will name some one amongst themselves, who in the place without more wrangling shall determine all their questions. What danger would ensue, if the wisest should so decide ours, according to occurrences and at first sight; without being tied to examples and consequences? Let every foot have his own shoe. Ferdinando King of Spain sending certain Colonies into the Indies, provided wisely, that no lawyers or students of the laws should be carried thither, for fear lest controversies, suits or processes should people that newfound world. As a Science that of her own nature engendereth altercation and division, judging with Plato that Lawyers and Physicians are an ill provision for any country. Wherefore is it, that our common language so easy to be understood in all other matters, becometh so obscure so harsh and so hard to be understood in lawcases, bills, contracts, indentures citations, wills and testaments? And that he who so plainly expresseth himself, what ever he spoke or write of any other subject, in-law matters finds no manner or way to declare himself or his meaning, that admits not some doubt or contradiction: Unless it be, that the Princes of this art applying themselves with a particular attention, to invent and choose strange, choice and solemn words, and frame artificial cunning clauses, have so plodded and poized every syllable; canvased and sifted so exquisitely every seam and quidity, that they are now so entangled and so confounded in the infinity of figures and so severall-small partitions, that they can no more come within the compass of any order, or prescription or certain understanding. Confusum est quidquid usque in pulverem sectum est. Whatsoever is slicedinto very powder is confused. Whosoever hath seen children, labouring to reduce a mass of quickesilver to a certain number, the more they press and work the same, and strive to force it to their will, so much more they provoke the liberty of that generous metal, which scorneth their art, and scatteringly disperseth itself beyond all imagination. Even so of lawyers, who in subdividing their subtleties or quiddities, teach men to multiply doubts: and by extending and diversifying difficulties; they lengthen and amplify, they scatter and disperse them. In sowing and retailing of questions, they make the World to fructify and abound in uncertainty, in quarrels, in suits and in controversies. As the ground the more it is crumbled, broken and deeply removed or grubbed up, becometh so much more fertile. Difficultatem facit doctrina. Learning breeds difficulty. We found many doubts in Ulpian, we find more in Bartolus and Baldus. The trace of this innumerable diversity of opinious should never have been used to adorn posterity, and have it put in her head, but rather have been utterly razed out. I know not what to say to it; but this is seen by experience, that so many interpretations, dissipate and confound all truth. Aristotle hath written to be understood: Which if he could not, much less shall another not so learned as he was; and a third, than he who treateth his own imagination. We open the matter, and spill it in distempering it. Of one subject we make a thousand: And in multiplying and subdividing we fall again into the infinity of Epicurus his Atoms. It was never seen, that two men judged alike of one something. And it is impossible to see two opinions exactly semblable: not only in diverse men, but in any one same man, at several hours. I commonly find something to doubt-of, where the commentary happily never deigned to touch, as deeming it so plain. I stumble sometimes as much in an even smooth path; as some horses that I know, who oftener trip in a fair plain way, than in a rough and stony. Who would not say, that glosses increase doubts and ignorance, since no book is to be seen, whether divine or profane, commonly read of all men, whose interpretation dims or tarnisheth not the difficulty? The hundred commentary sends him to his succeeder, more thorny and more crabbed, than the first found him. When agreed we amongst ourselves, to say, this book is perfect, there's now nothing to be said against it? This is best seen in our French-pedling Law. Authority of Law is given to infinite Doctors, to infinite arrests, and to as many interpretations. Find we for all that any end of need of interpreters? Is there any advauncement or progress towards tranquillity seen therein? Have we now less need of Advocates and judges, then when this huge mass of Law was yet in her first infancy? Clean contrary, we obscure and bury understanding. We discover it no more but at the mercy of so many Courts, Bars, or Plea-benches. Men misacknowledge the natural infirmity of their mind. She doth but quest and ferret, and uncessantly goeth turning, winding, building and entangling herself in her own work; as do our silkworms, and therein stiffleth herself. Must in pice. A Mouse in pitch, He supposeth to note a far-off I wot not what appearance of clearness and immaginary truth; but whilst he runneth unto it, so many lets and difficulties cross his way, so many empeachments and new questing start up, that they stray loose and besot him. Not much otherwise than it fortuned to Aesop's Dogs, who far-off discovering some show of a dead body to float upon the Sea, and being unable to approach the same, undertook to drink up all the Water, that so they might drie-up the passage; and were all stifled. To which answereth that, which one Crates said of Heraclitus his compositions, that they needed a Reader, who should be a cunning swimmer, lest the depth and weight of his learning should drown and swallow him up. It is nothing but a particular weakness, that makes us contend with that which others or we ourselves have found in this pursuit of knowledge. A more sufficient man will not be pleased therewith. There is place for a follower, yea and for ourselves, and More ways to the Wood than one. There is no end in our inquisitions. Our end is in the other World. It is a sign his wits grow short, when he is pleased; or a sign of weariness. No generous spirit stays and relies upon himself. He ever pretendeth and goeth beyond his strength. He hath some vagaries beyond his effects. If he advance not himself, press, settle, shock, turn, wind and front himself, he is but half alive; His pursuits are termelesse and formelesse. His nourishment is admiration, questing and ambiguity: Which Apollo declared sufficiently, always speaking ambiguously, obscurely and obliquely untous; not feeding, but busying and ammusing us. It is an irregular uncertain motion, perpetual, patternelesse and without end. His inventions inflame, follow and enter produce one another. Ainsi voit-on en un ruisseau coulant, San fin l'vne eau, apres l'outre roulant, Et tout de rang, d'vn et ernel conduct, L'vne suit l'autre, & l'vne l'autre fuit. Par cettecy, celle-là est poussée, Et cettecy, par l'autre est devancée: Tousiours l'eau va dans l'eau, & tousiours est ●e Mesme ruisseau, & tousiours eau divers. As in a running river we behold How one wave after th'other still is rolled, And all along as it doth endless rise, Th'one th'other follows, th'one from th'other flies. By this Wave, that is driven, and this again, By th'other is set forward all amain. Water in Water still, one river still, Yet divers Waters still that river fill. There's more a do to interpret interpretations, than to interpret things: and more books upon books, then upon any other subject. We do but enter-glose ourselves. All swarmeth with commentaries: Of Authors their is great penury. Is not the chiefest and most famous knowledge of our ages, to know how to understand the wise? Is it not the common and last scope of our study? Our opinions are grafted one upon an other. The first serveth as a stock to the second; the second to the third. Thus we ascend from step to step. Whence it followeth, that the highest-mounted hath often more honour, than merit. For, he is got-up but one inch above the shoulders of the last save one. How often and peradventure foolishly, have I enlarged my Book to speak of himself? Foolishly if it were but for this reason: That I should have remembered, that what I speak of others, they do the like of me. That those so frequent glances on their works, witness their hart shivereth with their love they bear them; and that the disdainful churlishness wherewith they beat them, are but mignardizes and affectations of a motherly favour. Following Aristotle, in whom, both esteeming and dis-esteeming himself, arise often of an equal air of arrogancy. For mine excuse; That in this I ought to have more liberty than others, forsomuch as of purpose, I write both of myself and of my writings, as of my other actions: that my theme doth turn into itself: I wot not whether every man will take it. I have seen in Germany, that Luther hath left as many divisions and altercations, concerning the doubt of his opinions, yea and more, than himself moveth about the Holy Scriptures. Our contestation is verbal. I demand what Nature voluptuousness, circle and substitution is? The question is of words, and with words it is answered. A stone is a body: but he that should insist and urge; And what is a body? A substance: And what a substance? And so goeon: Should at last bring the respondent to his Calepine or wits end. One word is changed for another word, and often more unknown. I know better what Homo is, than I know what Animal is, either mortal or reasonable. To answer one doubt, they give me three: It is Hidra's head. Socrates' demanded of Memnon what virtue was; There is answered Memnon, the virtue of a Man, of a Woman, of a Magistrate, of a private Man, of a Child, of an old Man: What virtue mean you? Yea marry, this is very well, quoth Socrates; we were in search of one virtue, and thou bringest me a whole swarm. We propose one question, and we have a whole huddle of them made unto us again. As no event or form doth wholly resemble another, so doth it not altogether differ one from another. Oh ingenious mixture of Nature. If our faces were not like, we could not discern a man from a beast: If they were not unlike, we could not distinguish one man from another man. All things hold by some similitude: Every example limpeth. And the relation, which is drawn from experience, is ever defective and imperfect. Comparisons are nevertheless joined together by some end. So serve the Laws, and so are they sorted and fitted to all our suits or affairs; by some wire-drawen, forced and collateral interpretation. Since the moral Laws which respect the particular duty of every man in himself, are so hard to be taught and observed, as we see they are: It is no wonder, if those which govern so many particulars, are more hard. Consider the form of this Law, by which we are ruled: It is a lively testimony of human imbecility; so much contradiction and so many errors are therein contained. That which we think favour or rigour in Law (wherein is so much of either, that I wot not well whether we shall so often find indifferency in them, are crazed-infected parts and unjust members of the very body and essence of Law. Certain poor Countrymen came even now to tell me in a great haste, that but now in a forest of mine, they have left a man wounded to death, with a hundred hurts about him, yet breathing, and who for God's sake hath begged a little water and some help to raise himself at their hands. But that they durst not come near him and ran all away, for fear some officers belonging to the Law should meet and catch them; and as they do with such as they find near unto a murdered body, so they should be compelled to give an account of this mischance, to their utter undoing; having neither friends nor money to defend their innocency. What should I have said unto them? It is most certain, that this Office of humanity had brought them to much trouble. How many innocent and guiltless men have we seen punished? I say without the judges fault; and how many more that were never discovered? This hath happened in my time. Certain men are condemned to death for a murder committed; the sentence, if not pronounced, at least concluded and determined. This done, The judges are advertised by the Officers of a subalternal Court, not far-off, that they have certain prisoners in hold, that have directly confessed the foresaid murder, and thereof bring most evident marks and tokens. The question and consultation is now in the former Court, whether for all this, they might interrupt, or should defer the execution of the sentence pronounced against the first. They consider the novelty of the example and consequence thereof, and how to reconcile the judgement. They conclude, that the condemnation hath passed according unto Law, and therefore the judges are not subject to repentance. To be short, these miserable Wretches are consecrated to the prescriptions of the Law. Philip, or some other, provided for such an inconvenience, in this manner. He had by an irrevocable sentence condemned one to pay another a round sum of money for a fine. A while after, the truth being discovered, it was found, he had wrongfully condemned him. On one side was the right of the cause, on the other the right of judiciary forms. He is in some sort to satisfy both parties, suffering the sentence to stand in full power: and with his own purse recompensed the interest of the condemned. But he was to deal with a reparable accident, my poor slaves were hanged irreparably. How many condemnations have I seen more criminal, than the crime itself? All this put me in mind of those ancient opinions; That He who will do right in gross, must needs do wrong by retail; and injustly in small things, that will come to do justice in great matters; That human justice is framed according to the model of physic, according to which, whatsoever is profitable is also just and honest: And of that the Stoics hold, that Nature herself in most of her works, proceedeth against justice: And of that which the Cyreniaques hold, that there is nothing just of itself: That customs and laws frame justice. And the Theodorians, who in a wise man allow as just, all manner of theft, sacrilege and paillardise, so he think it profitable for him. There is no remedy: I am in that case, as Alcibiades was, and if I can otherwise choose, will never put myself unto a man that shall determine of my head; or consent that my honour or life, shall depend on the industry or care of mine attorney, more than mine innocency. I could willingly adventure myself, and stand to that Law, that should as well recompense me for a good deed, as punish me for a misdeed: and where I might have a just cause to hope, as reason to fear. Indemnity is no sufficient coin for him, who doth better than not to trespass. Our Law presents us but one of her hands, and that is her left hand. Whosoever goes to Law, doth in the end but loose by it. In China, the policy, arts and government of which kingdom, having neither knowledge or commerce with ours; exceed our examples in diverse parts of excellency; and whose Histories teach me, how much more ample and divers the World is, than either we or our forefathers could ever enter into. The Officers appointed by the Prince to visit the state of his Provinces, as they punish such as abuse their charge, so with great liberality they reward such as have uprightly and honestly behaved themselves in them, or have done any thing more than ordinary, and besides the necessity of their duty: There, all present themselves, not only to warrant themselves, but also to get something: Not simply to be paid, but liberally to be rewarded. No judge hath yet, God be thanked, spoken to me as a judge, in any cause whatsoever either mine or another man's; criminal or civil. No prison did ever receive me, no not so much as for recreation to walk in. The very imagination of one, maketh the sight of their outside seem irksome and loathsome to me. I am so besotted unto liberty, that should any man forbid me the access unto any one corner of the Indias I should in some sort live much discontented. And so long as I shall find land or open air elsewhere, I shall never lurk in any place, where I must hide myself. Oh God, how hardly could I endure the miserable condition of so many men, confined and immured in some corners of this kingdom, barred from entering the chiefest Cities, from access into Courts, from conversing with men, and interdicted the use of common ways, only because they have offended our laws. If those under which I live, should but threaten my finger's end, I would presently go find out some others, wheresoever it were. All my small wisdom, in these civil and tumultuous wars, wherein we now live, doth wholly employ itself, that they may not interrupt my liberty, to go and come where ever I list. Laws are now maintained in credit, not because they are essentially just, but because they are laws. It is the mystical foundation of their authority; they have none other; which avails them much: They are often made by fools. More often by men, who in hatred of equality, have want of equity; But ever by men, who are vain and irresolute Authors. There is nothing so grossly and largely offending, nor so ordinarily wronging as the Laws. Whosoever obeyeth them because they are just, obeys them not justly the way as he ought. Our French Laws do in some sort, by their irregularity and deformity, lend an helping hand unto the disorder and corruption, that is seen in their dispensation and execution. Their behest is so confused, and their command so inconstant, that it in some sort excuseth, both the disobedience and the vice of the interpretation, of the administration and of the observation. Whatsoever then the fruit is we may have of Experience, the same which we draw from foreign examples, will hardly stead our institution much; if we reap so small profit from that we have of ourselves, which is most familiar unto us: and truly sufficient to instruct us of what we want. I study myself more than any other subject. It is my supernatural Metaphisike, it is my natural Philosophy. Qua Deus hanc mundi temperet arte domum, Propert●● 3. ●●. 4. 26. Qua venit exoriens, qua deficit, unde coact is Cornibus in plenum menstrua luna redit: unde salo superant venti, quid flamine capt●t Eurus, & in nubes unde perennis aequa. Sit ventura dies mundi quae subruat arces, This World's great house by what art God doth guide. From whence the monthly Moon doth rising ride, How wane, how with closed horns return to pride. How winds on seas bear sway, what th'eastern wind Would have▪ how still in clouds we water find; If this world's Towers to raze a day be signed. Quaerite quos agitat mundi labour: All this do you inquire Whom this worlds travails tire. In this universality I suffer myself ignorantly and negligently to be managed by the general law of the world. I shall sufficiently know it when I shall feel it. My learning cannot make her change her course: she will not diversify herself for me; it were folly to hope it: And greater folly for a man to trouble himself about it; since it is necessarily semblable public and common. The governors capacity and goodness, should thoroughly discharge us of the governments care. Philosophical inquisitions and contemplations serve but as a nourishment unto our curiosity. With great reason do Philosophers address us unto nature's rules: But they have nought to do with so sublime a knowledge: They falsify them, and present her to us with a painted face, too-high in colour and overmuch sophisticated; whence arise so many different pourtraits of so uniform a subject. As she hath given us feet to go withal, so hath she endowed us with wisdom to direct our life. A wisdom not so ingenious, sturdy and pompous, as that of their invention, but yet easy, quiet and salutarie. And that in him who hath the hap to know how to employ it orderly and sincerely, effecteth very well what the other saith: that is to say naturally. For a man to commit himself most simply unto nature, is to do it most wisely. Oh how soft, how gentle, and how sound a pillow is ignorance and incuriositie to rest a well composed head upon. I had rather understand myself well in myself, then in Cicero. Out of the experience I have of myself, I find sufficient ground to make myself wise, were I but a good proficient scholar. Whosoever shall commit to memory the excess or inconvenience of his rage or anger past, and how far that fit transported him, may see the deformity of that passion, better than in Aristotle, and conceive a more just hatred against it. Whosoever calleth to mind, the dangers he hath escaped, those which have threatened him, and the light occasions that have removed him from one to another state, doth thereby the better prepare himself to future alterations, and knowledge of his condition. Caesar's life hath no more examples for us, than our own; Both imperial and popular; it is ever a life that all human accidents regard. Let us but give ear unto it, we record all that to us, that we principally stand in need of. He that shall call to mind how often and how several times he hath been deceived, and misaccompted his own judgement: is he not a simple gull, if he do not for ever afterward distrust the same? When by others reason, I find myself convicted of a false opinion, I learn not so much, what new thing he hath told me; and this particular ignorance; which were but a small purchase; as in general I learn mine own imbecility and weakness, and the treason of my understanding: whence I draw the reformation of all the mass. The like I do in all my other errors: by which rule I apprehend and feel great profit for, and unto my life. I regard not the species or individuum, as a stone whereon I have stumbled. I learn every where to fear my going, and endeavour to order the same. To learn that another hath either spoken a foolish jest, or committed a sottish act, is a thing of nothing. A man must learn, that he is but a fool: A much more ample and important instruction. The false steps my memory hath so often put upon me, at what time she stood most upon herself, have not idly been lost: she may swear and warrant me long enough; I shake mine ears at her: the first opposition made in witness of her, makes me suspect. And I durst not trust her in a matter of consequence; nor warrant her touching others affairs. And were it not, that what I do for want of memory, others more often do the same for lack of faith, I would ever in a matter of fact rather take the truth from another's mouth, then from mine own. Would every man pry into the effects and circumstances of the passions that sway him, as I have done of that whereunto I was allotted; he should see them coming; and would somewhat hinder their course and abate their impetuosity: They do not always surprise and take hold of us at the first brunt, there are certain forethreatning and degrees as forerunners. Fluctus uti p●imò coepit cum albescereponto, Paulatim sese tollit mare, & altius undas Erigit, inde imo consurgit ad aethera fundo. As when at sea, floods first in whiteness rise, Sea surgeth softly, and then higher plies In waves, then from the ground mounts up to skies. judgement holds in me a presidential seat, at least he carefully endeavours to hold it: He suffers my appetites to keep their course: both hatred and love, yea and that I bear unto myself; without feeling alteration or corruption. If he can not reform other parts according to himself, at least he will not be deformed by them: he keeps his court apart. That warning-lesson given to all men, to know themselves, must necessarily be of important effect, since that God of wisdom, knowledge and light, caused the same to be fixed on the frontispiece of his temple: as containing whatsoever he was to counsel us. Plato saith also, that wisdom is nothing but the execution of that ordinance: And Socrates doth distinctly verify the same in Zenophon. Difficulties and obscurity are not perceived in every science, but by such as have entrance into them: For, some degree of intelligence is required, to be able to mark that one is ignorant: and we must knock at a gate, to know whether it be shut. Whence ensueth this Platonical subtlety, that neither those which know have no further to inquire, forsomuch as they know already: nor they that know not, because to inquire, it is necessary they know what they inquire after. Even so in this, for a man to know himself: that every man is seen so resolute and satisfied, and thinks himself sufficiently instructed or skilful, doth plainly signify that no man understands any thing, as Socrates teacheth Euthydemus. Myself, who profess nothing else, find therein so bottomless a depth, andinfinit a variety, that my apprentisage hath no other fruit, than to make me perceive how much more there remaineth for me to learn. To mine own weakness so often acknowledged, I owe this inclination which I bear unto modesty; to the obedience of beliefs prescribed unto me; to a constant coldness and moderation of opinions; and hatred of this importunate and quarrelous arrogancy, wholly believing and trusting itself, a capital enemy to discipline and verity. Do but hear them sway and talk. The first fopperies they propose, are in the style, that Religions and Laws are composed in. Nihil est turpius quam cognitioni Ci● Acad. qu●. ●●b. 1. f. & praeceptioni, assertionem app●●●ationem● praecurrere. Nothing is more absurd, than that avowching and allowance should run before knowledge and precept. Aristarchus said, that in ancient times, there were scarce seven wise men found in the world: and in his time, hardly seven ignorant. Have not we more reason to say it in our days, than he had? Affirmation & self-conceit, are manifest signs of foolishness. Some one, who a hundred times a day hath had the canvas and been made a stark coxcomb, shall notwithstanding be seen to stand upon his Ergoes, and as presumptuously-resolute as before. You would say, he hath since some new mind and vigour of understanding infused into him. And that it betides him, as to that ancient child of the Earth, who by his falling to the ground and touching his Mother, still gathered new strength and fresh courage. — cui cum tetigere parentem, A●t●●●. I am defect a vigent renovato robore membra. Whose failing limbs with strength renewed regrow, When they once touch his mother Earth below. Doth not this indocile, blocke-headed ass, think to reassume a new spirit, by undertaking a new disputation? It is by my experience I accuse human ignorance, which (in mine opinion) is the surest part of the worlds school. Those that will not conclude it in themselves, by so vain an example as mine, or theirs, let them acknowledge it by Socrates, the Master of Masters. For the Philosopher Antisthenes, was wont to say to his Disciples: Come on my Masters, let you and me go to hear Socrates. There shall I be a fellow Disciple with you. And upholding this Doctrine, of the Stoics Sect, that only virtue sufficed to make a life absolutely-happy; and having no need of any thing, but of Socrates his force and resolution, he added moreover: This long attention, I employ in considering myself enableth me also to judge indifferently of others: And there are few things whereof I speak more happily and excusably. It often fortuneth me to see and distinguish more exactly the conditions of my friends, than themselves do. I have astonished some by the pertinency of mine own description, and have warned him of himself. Because I have from mine infancy enured myself to view mine own life in others lives; I have thereby acquired a studious complexion therein. And when I think on it, I suffer few things to escape about me, that may in any sort fit the same; whether countenances, humour or discourses. I studiously consider all I am to eschew and all I ought to follow. So by my friends productions I discover their inward inclinations. Not to marshal or range this infinite variety of so divers and so distracted actions to certain Genders or Chapters, and distinctly to distribute my parcels and divisions into forms and known regions. Sed neque quam mult● species, & nomina qu● sint. Virg. Georg lib. 1. 103. Est numerus. But nor how many kinds, nor what their names: There is a number of them (and their frames.) The wiser sort speak and declare their fancies more specially and distinctly: But I, who have no further insight than I get from common use, without rule or method, generally present mine own, but gropingly. As in this: I pronounce my sentence by articles, loose and disjointed: it is a thing cannot be spoken at once and at full. Relation and conformity are not easily found in such base and common minds as ours. Wisdom is a solid and complete frame; every several piece whereof keepeth his due place and beareth his mark. Sola sapientia in se tota conversa est. Only wisdom is wholly turned into itself. I leave it to Artists, and I wot not whether in a matter so confused, so several and so casual, they shall come to an end, to range into sides, this infinite diversity of visages; and settle our inconstancy and place it in order. I do not only find it difficult to combine our actions one unto another; but take every one apart, it is hard, by any principal quality to design the same properly: so double, so ambiguous and particoloured are they to divers lustres. Which in Pers●us the Macedonian King was noted for a rare matter, that his spirit fastening itself to no kind of condition; wont wandering through every kind of life: and representing so newfangled and gadding manners, that he was neither known of himself nor of others, what kind of man he was: me thinks may well-nigh agree and suit with all the world. And above all, I have seen some other of his coat or humour, to whom (as I suppose) this conclusion might also more properly be applied. No state of mediocrity being ever transported from one extreme to another, by indivinable occasions: no manner of course without crosses, and strange contrarieties: no faculty simple: so that the likeliest a man may one day conclude of him, shall be, that he affected and laboured to make himself known by being not to be known. A man had need of long-tough ears, to hear himself freely judged. And because there be few that can endure to hear it without tingling: those which adventure to undertake it with us, show us a singular effect of true friendship. For, that is a truely-perfect love, which, to profit and do good, feareth not to hurt or offend. I deem it absurd, to censure him, in whom bad qualities exceed good conditions. Plato requireth three parts in him that will examine another's mind: Learning, goodwill, and boldness. I was once demanded, what I would have thought myself fit-for, had any been disposed to make use of me, when my years would have fitted service: Dum melior vires sanguis dabat, aemula necdum Virg. A●●. lib. 5 415. Temporibus geminis canebat sparsa senectus. While better blood gave strength, nor envious old years O'erlaid with wrinkled temples grew to hoary hairs. I answered, for nothing. And I willingly excuse myself that I can do nothing which may enthrall me to others. But had my fortune made me a servant, I would have told my master all truths; and, had he so wild it, controlled his manners: Not in gross, by scholastical lessons, which I cannot do: beside, I see no true reformation to ensue in such as know them: but fair and softly and with every opportunity observing them; and simply and naturally judging them distinctly by the eye. Making him directly to perceive, how and in what degree he is in the common opinion; opposing myself against his flatterers and sycophants. There is none of us, but would be worse than Kings, if as they are, he were continually corrupted with that rascally kind of people. But what? if Alexander that mighty King and great Philosopher, could not beware of them? I should have had sufficient fidelity, judgement and liberty for that. It would be a nameless office, otherwise it should lose both effect and grace; And is a part, which cannot indifferently belong to all. For, truth itself, hath not the privilege to be employed at all times, and in every kind▪ Be her use never so noble, it hath his circumscriptions and limits. It often cometh to pass, the world standing as it doth, that truth is whispered into Prince's ears, not only without fruit, but hurtfully and therewithal unjustly. And no man shall make me believe, but that an hallowed admonition may be viciously applied, and abusively employed: and that the interest of the substance should not sometimes yield to the interest of the form. For such a purpose and mystery I would have an unrepining man and one contented with his own fortune▪ Quod sit, esse velit, nihilque malit: Mart. lib. 10. epigr. 47. 12 Willing to be as him you see, Or rather nothing else to be: and borne of mean degree: Forsomuch as on the one side, he should not have cause to fear, lively and nearly to touch his masters heart, thereby not to lose the course of his preferment: And on the other side, being of a low condition, he should have more easy communication with all sorts of people. Which I would have in one man alone; for, to impart the privilege of such liberty and familiarity unto many, would beget an hurtful irreverence. Yea, and of that man, I would above all things require trusty and assured silence. A King is not to be credited, when for his glory, he boasteth of his constancy, in attending his enemy's encounter: if for his good amendment and profit, he cannot endure the liberty of his friends words, which have no other working power, then to pinch his learning: the rest of their effect remaining in his own hands. Now, there is not any condition of men, that hath more need of true, sincerly-free and open-hearted advertisements, than Princes. They undergo a public life, and must applaud the opinion of so many spectators, that if they be once enured, to have that concealed from them, which diverteth them from their course, they at unawares and insensibly find themselves deeply engaged in the hatred and detestation of their subjects; many times for occasions, which had they been forewarned, and in time gently reform, they might no doubt have eschewed, to no interest or prejudice of their private delights. Favourites do commonly respect themselves more than their masters. And surely it toucheth their freehold, forsomuch as i●good truth, the greatest part of true friendship●-offices, are towards their soveragne in a crabbed and dangerous Essay. So that, there is not only required much affection and liberty, but also an undaunted courage. To conclude, all this gal●emafrie which I huddle-up here, is but a register of my lives-Essayes: which in regard of the internal health are sufficiently exemplare to take the instruction against the hair. But concerning bodily health, no man is able to bring more profitable experience, than myself; who present the same pure, sincere and in no sort corrupted or altered, either by art or self-willed opinion. Experience in her own precinct, may justly be compared to Physic, unto which, reason giveth place. Tiberius was wont to say, that whatsoever had lived twenty years, should be able to answer himself of all such things as were either wholesome or hurtful for him; and know how to live and order his body without Physic. Which he peradventure had learned of Socrates; who industriously advising his disciples (as a study of chief consequence) to study their health, told them moreover, that it was very hard, if a man of understanding, heedfully observing his exercises, his eating and drinking, should not better than any Physician discern and distinguish such things as were either good or bad or indifferent for him. Yet doth Physic make open profession always to have experience for the touchstone of her operation. And Plato had reason to say, that to be a good Physician, it were requisite, that he who should undertake that profession, had passed through all such diseases as he will adventure to cure, and known or felt all the accidents and cricumstances he is to judge of. It is reason, themselves should first have the pox, if they will know how to cure them in others. I should surely trust such a one better than any else. Others but guide us, as one who sitting in his chair paints seas, rocks, shelves and havens upon a board, and makes the model of a tale ship, to sail in all safety: But put him to it in earnest, he knows not what to do, nor where to begin. They make even such a description of our infimities as doth a town-crier, who crieth a lost horse, or dog, and describeth his hair, his stature, his ears, with other marks and tokens, but bring either unto him, he knows him not. Oh God, that physic would one day afford mesome good and preceptible help, how earnestly would I exclaim. Tandem efficaci do manus scient●●, I yield, I yield at length, To knowledge of chief strength. The Arts that promise to keep our body and mind in good health, promise much unto us; but therewith there is none performeth less what they promise. And in our days, such as make profession of these Arts amongst us, do less than all others show their effects. The most may be said of them, is, that they sell medicinable drugs; but that they are Physicians, no man can truly say it., I have lived long enough, to yield an accoont of the usage that hath borough me to this day. If any be disposed to taste of it, as his taster I have given him an assay. Lo here some articles, digested as memory shall store me with them. I have no fashion but hath varied according to accidents: I only register those I have most been acquainted with; and hitherto possess me most. My form of life is ever alike, both in sickness and in health: one same bed, the same hours, the same meat, the same drink doth serve me. I add nothing to them but the moderation of more or less, according to my strength or appetite. My health is to keep my accustomed state free from care and trouble. I see that sickness doth on the one side in some sort divert me from it, and if I believe Physicians, they on the other side will turn me from it: So that both by fortune and by art I am clean out of my right bias. I believe nothing more certainly than this; that I cannot be offended by the use of things, which I have so long accustomed. It is in the hands of cuctome to give our life what form it pleaseth: in that it can do all in all. It is the drink of Circe's, diversifieth our nature as she thinks good. How many nations near bordering upon us imagine the fear of the sereine or night-calme to be but a jest, which s●o apparently doth blast and hurt us? and whereof our Mariners our watermen, and our countrymen make but a laughingstock? You make a German sick, if you lay him upon a matteras, as you distemper an Italian upon a featherbed, and a Frenchman to lay him in a bed without curtains, or lodge him in a chamber without a fire. A Spaniard can not well brook to feed after our fashion, no● we endure to drink as the Swissers. A German pleased me well at Augusta to rail against the commodity of our chimneys, using the same reasons or arguments, that we ordinarily employ in condemning their stoves. For, to say truth, the same close-smothered heat, and the smell of that oft-heated matter, whereof they are composed, fumeth in the heads of such as are not accustomed unto them; no● so with me. But on the other side, that heat being equally dispersed, constant and universal, without flame or blazing, without smoke, and without that wind which the tunnels of our chimneys bring us, may many ways be compared unto ours. Why do we not imitate the Romans architecture? It is reported that in ancient times they made no fire in their houses, but without and at the foot of them: Whence by tunnels, which were conveyed through their thickest walls, and contrived near and about all such places as they would have warmed; so that the hear was conveyed into every part of the house. Which I have seen manifestly described in some place of Seneca, though I can not well remember where. This German, hearing me commend the beauties and commodities of his City (which truly deserveth great commendation) began to pity me, because I was shortly to go from it. And the first inconvenience he urged me withal, was the heaviness in the head, which Chimneys in other places would cause me. He had heard some other body complain of it, and therefore all eadged the same against me, being wont by custom to perceive it in such as came to him. All heat coming from fire doth weaken and dull me: Yet said Evenus, that fire was the best sauce of life. I rather allow and embrace any other manner or way to escape cold. We fear our Wines when they are low; whereas in Portugal, the fume of it is counted delicious, and is the drink of Princes. To conclude, each several Nation hath diverse customs, fashions and usages; which, to some others, are not only unknown and strange, but savage, barbarous and wondrous. What shall we do unto that people, that admit no witness, except printed; that will not believe men, if not printed in Books, nor credit truth, unless it be of competent age? We dignify our fopperies, when we put them to the press. It is another manner of weight for him, to say, I have seen it, then if you say, I have heard it reported. But I, who mis-believe no more the mouth, than the hand of men; and know that men write as indiscreetly, as they speak unadvisedly; and esteem of this present age, as of another past; allege as willingly a friend of mine as Aulus Gellius or Macrobius, and what myself have seen, as that they have written. And as they account virtue to be nothing greater by being longer, so deem I truth to be nothing wiser ●y being more aged. I often say it is mere folly that makes us run after strange and scholastical examples. The fertility of them is now equal unto that of Homer and Plato's times. But is it not, that we rather seek the honour of allegations, than the truth of discourses? As if it were more to borrow our proofs from out the shaped of Vascosan or Plantin, than from that we daily see in our village. Or verily that we have not the wit to blanche, sift out or make that to prevail, which passeth before us, and forcibly judge of it, to draw the same into example. For, if we say, that authority fails us, to add credit unto our testimony, we speak from the purpose. Forsomuch as in my conceit, could we but find out their true light Nature's greatest miracles and the most wonderful examples, namely upon the subject of human actions, may be drawn and form from most ordinary, most common and most known things. Now concerning my subject, omitting the examples I know by books; And that which Aristotle speaketh of Andron of Argos, that he would travel all over the scorching sands of Lybia, without drinking: A Gentleman, who hath worthily acquitted himself of many honourable charges, reported where I was, that in the parching heat of Summer, hes had traveled from Madrill to Lisb●ne, without ever drinking. His age respected, he is in very good and healthy plight, and hath nothing extraordinary in the course or custom of his life, saving (as himself hath told me,) that he can very well continue two or three months, yea a whole year, without any manner of beverage. He sometimes finds himself thirsty, but let's it pass; and holds, that it is an appetite, which will easily and of itself languish away: and if he drink at any time, it is more for a caprice or humour, than for any need or pleasure. Lo here one of another key. It is not long since, that I found one of the wisest men of France, (among those of so mean fortune) studying hard in the corner of a great Hall, which for that purpose was hung about with tapistry, and round about him a disordered rabble of his servaunts, grooms and lackeys; prattling, playing and hoyting: who told me (as Seneca in a manner saith of himself) that he learned and profited much by that hurly burly or tintimare: as if beaten with that confused noise, he did so much the better recall and close himself into himself, for serious contemplation; and that the said tempestuous rumours did strike and repercusse his thoughts inward. Whilst he was a scholar in Padua, his study was ever placed so near the jangling of bells, the rattling of coaches and rumbling tumults of the market place, that for the service of his study, he was fame, not only to frame and enure himself to contemn, but to make good use of that turbulentnoise. Socrates' answered Alcibiades, who wondered how he could endure the continual tittle-tattle and uncessant scolding of his Wife: even as those who are accustomed to hear the ordinary creaking of the squeaking wheels of wells. Myself am clean contrary, for I have a tender brain, and easy to take snuff in the nose, or to be transported. If my mind be busy alone, the least stirring, yea the buzzing of a ●●ie doth trouble and distemper the same. Seneca in his youth, having earnestly undertaken to follow the example of Sext●us, to feed on nothing that were taken dead: could with pleasure (as himself averreth) live so a whole year. And left it, only because he would not be suspected to borrow this rule from some new religions, that instituted the same. He therewithal followed some precepts of Attalus, not to lie upon any kind of carpets or bedding that would yield under one; and until he grew very aged, he never used but such as were very hard and unyeelding to the body. What the custom of his days makes him account rudeness, ours makes us esteem wantonness. Behold the difference between my varlet's life and mine: The Indians have nothing further from my form and strength. Well I wot, that I have heretofore taken boys from begging and that went roaguing up and down, to serve me; hoping to do some good upon them, who have within a little while after left me, my fare and my livery; only that they might without control or check follow their former idle loitering life. One of which I found not long since gathering of muscles in a common sink, for his dinner; whom (do what I could) I was never able, neither with entreaty to reclaim, no● by threatening to withdraw, from the sweetness he found in want, and delight he felt in roaguing laziness. Even vagabonding rogues, as well as rich men, have their magnificences and voluptuousness, and (as some say) their dignities, pre-eminences and politic orders. They are effects of custom and use: and what is bred in the bone, will never out of the flesh. Both which have power to enure and fashion us, not only to what form they please (therefore, say the wise, ought we to be addressed to the best, and it will immediately seem easy unto us) but also to change and variation: Which is the noblest and most profitable of their apprentisages. The best of my corporal complexions, is, that I am flexible and little opiniative. I have certain inclinations, more proper and ordinary, and more pleasing than others. But with small ado and without compulsion, I can easily leave them and embrace the contrary. A young man should trouble his rules, to stirre-up his vigour; and take heed he suffer not the same to grow faint, sluggish or tasty: For, there is no course of life so weak and sottish, as that which is managed by Order, Method and Discipline. Ad primum lapidem vectari cum placet, hora juven. Sat. 6. 477. Sumi●ur ex libro, si prurit frictus ocell● Anguibus, inspecta genesi collyria qu●rit. List he to ride in coach but to Mile-end, By th'almanac he doth the hour attend: If his eye-corner itch, the remedy, He ●et's from calculation of nativity. If he believe me, he shall often give himself unto all manner of excess: otherwise the least disorder will utterly overthrow him; and so make him unfit and un velcome in all conversations. The most contrary quality in an honest man, is nice-delicatevesse, and to be tied to one certain particular fashion. It is parcular, if it be not supple and pliable. It is a kind of reproach, through impuissance not to do or not to dare, what one seeth his other companions do or dare. Let such men keep their kitchen. It is undecent in all other men, but vicious and intolerable in one professing Arms: who (as Philopoemen said) should fashion himself to all manner of inequality and diversity of life. Although I have (as much as might be) been enured to liberty and fashioned to indifferency, yet in growing aged, I have through carelessness relied more upon certain forms (my age is now exempted from institution, and hath not any thing else to look unto, but to maintain itself) which custom hath already, without thinking on it, in certain things so well imprinted her character in me, that I deem it a kind of excess to leave them. And without long practice, I can neither sleep by day; nor eat between meals; nor break my fast; nor go to bed without some intermission; as of three hours after supper) nor get children, but before I fall asleep, and that never standing; nor bear mine own sweat; nor quench my thirst, either with clear water or wine alone; nor continue long bareheaded; nor have mine hair cut after dinner. And I could as hardly spare my gloves as my shirt: or forbear washing of my hands, both in the morning and rising from the table; or lie in a bed without a testern and curtains about it, as of most necessary things: I could dine without a tablecloth, but hardly without a clean napkin, as Germane commonly do. I foul and fully them more than either they or the Italians: and I seldom use either spoon or fork. I am sorry we follow not a custom, which according to the example of Kings I have seen begun by some; that upon every course or change of dish, as we have shift of clean trenchers, so we might have change of clean napkins. We read that that laborious soldier Marius, growing old, grew more nicely delicate in his drinking, and would taste no drink, except in a peculiar cup of his. As for me, I observe a kind of like method in glasses, and of one certain form, and drink not willingly in a commonglasse: no more than of one ordinary hand: I mislike all manner of metal in regard of a bright transparent matter: let mine eyes also have teste of what I drink according to their capacity. I am beholding to custom for many 〈◊〉 nicenesses and singularities. Nature hath also on the other side bestowed this upon me, that I can not well brook two full meals in one day, without surcharging my stomach; nor the mere abstinence of one, without filling myself with wind, drying my mouth and dulling my appetite: And I do find great offence by a long sereine or night-calme. For some years since, in the outroads or nightservices that happen in times of wars, which many times continue all night, five or six hours after my stomach begins to qualm, my head feeleth a violent aching, so that I can hardly holdout till morning without vomiting. When others go to breakfast▪ I go to sleep: and within a while after I shall be as fresh and jolly as before. I ever thought that the serein never fell, but in the shutting in of night, but having in these latter years long time frequented very familiarly the conversation of a Gentleman, possessed with this opinion, that it is more sharp and dangerous about the declination of the Sun, an hour or two before it set, which he carefully escheweth, and despiseth that which falls at night: he hath gone about to persuade and imprint into me, not only his discourse but also his conceit. What if the very doubt and inquisition, woundeth our imagination and changeth us? Such as altogether yield to these bend, draw the whole ruin upon themselves. And I bewail divers Gentlemen, who being young and in perfect health, have by the ignorant foolishness of their Physicians brought themselves into consumptions and other linger diseases; and as it were in Physics fetters. Were it not much better to be troubled with a a rheum, than for ever through discustome, in an action of so great use and consequence, lose the commerce and conversation of common life? Oh irksome learning! Oh Science full of molestation; that wasteth us the sweetest hours of the day. Let us extend our possession unto the utmost means. A man shall at last, in opinionating himself, harden and enure himself for it, and so correct his complexion: as did Caesar's the falling sickness, with contemning and corrupting the same. A man should apply himself to the best rules, but not subject himself unto them: except to such (if any there be) that duty and thraldom unto them, be profitable. Both Kings and Philosophers obey nature, and go to the stool, and so do Ladies: Public lives are due unto ceremony: mine which is obscure and private, enjoyeth all natural dispensations. To be a Soldier and a Gascoigne, are qualities somewhat subject to indiscretion. And I am both. Therefore will I say thus much of this action; that it is requisite we should remit the same unto certain prescribed night-houres; and by custom (as I have done) force and subject ourselves unto it: But not (as I have done) growing in years, strictly tie himself to the care of a particular convenient place, and of a commodious ajax or easy close-stool for that purpose: and make it troublesome with long sitting and nice observation. Nevertheless in homeliest matters and foulest offices, is it not in some sort excusable, to require more care and cleanliness? Nature homo mundum & elegans Sen epist. 92. animal est. By nature man is a cleanly and neat creature. Of all natural actions, there is none wherein I am more loath to be troubled or interrupted, when I am at it. I have seen diverse great men and soldiers, much troubled and vexed with their bellies untune and disorder, when at untimely hours it calleth upon them: whilst mine and myself never miss to call one upon another at our appointment: which is, as soon as I get out of my bed, except some urgent business or violent sickness trouble me. Therefore (as I said) I judge no place where sick men may better seat themselves in security, then quietly and wished to hold themselves in that course of life, wherein the have been brought up and habituated. Any change or variation soever, astonieth and distempereth. Will any believe, that chestnuts can hurt a Perigordin or a Luquo●s, or that milk▪ or whitmeates are hurtful unto a mountain dwelling people? whom if one seek to divert from their natural diet, he shall not only prescribe them a new, but a contrary form of life: A change which a healthy man can hardly endure. Appoint a Bretton of three score years of age to drink water; put a Seaman or Mariner into a Stove; forbid a lackey of Baske to walk: you bring them out of their element, you deprive them of all motion, and in the end, of air, of light and life. — an vivere tanti est? Cor. Gal. el. 1. 155. Do we reckon it so dear, Only living to be here? Cogimur à suet is animum suspendere rebus. Atque ut vivamus, vivere desinimus: From things erst used we must suspend our mind, We leave to live that we may live by kind. Hos superesse reor quibus & spirabilis a●r, Et lux quaregimur, redditur ipsa gravis. Do I think they live longer, whom doth grieve Both air they breath, and light whereby they live. If they do no other good, at least they do this, that betimes they prepare their patients unto death, by little undermining and cutting-off the use of life. Both in health and in sickness, I have willingly seconded and given myself over to those appetites that pressed me. I allow great authority to my desires and propensions. I love not to cure one evil by another mischief. I hate those remedies, that importune more than sickness. To be subject to the cholike, and to be tied to abstain from the pleasure I have in eating of oysters, are two mischiefs for one. The disease pincheth us on the one side, the rule on the other. Since we are ever in danger to misdo, let us rather hazard ourselves to follow pleasure. Most men do contrary and think nothing profitable, that is not painful: Facility is by them suspected. Mine appetite hath in diverse things very happily accommodated and ranged itself to the health of my stomach. Being young, acrimony and tartness in sauces did greatly delight me, but my stomach being since glutted therewith, my taste hath likewise seconded the same. Wine hurts the sick; it is the first thing that with an invincible distaste, brings my mouth out of taste. Whatsoever I receive unwillingly or distastefully hurts me, whereas nothing doth it whereon I feed with hunger and relish. I never received harm by any action that was very pleasing unto me. And yet I have made all medicinal conclusions, largely to yield to my pleasures. And when I was young. Quem circumcursans huc atque huc saepe Cupido Fulgebat crocina splendidus in tunica, C●t●l. el. 4. 131. About whom Cupid running here and there, Shined in the saffron coat which he did wear. I have as licentiously & inconsiderately as any other, furthred all such desires as possessed me; Et militavi non sine gloria. A Soldier of love's host, Hor. c●r. l. 3. ●d. 26. 2. I was not without boast. More notwithstanding in continuation and holding out, then by snatches or by stealth. Sex me vix memini sustinuesse vices, I scarce remember passed Six courses I could last. It is surely a wonder accompanied with unhappiness, to confess how young and weak I was brought under its subjection. Nay, shall I not blush to tell it? It was long before the age of choice or years of discretion: I was so young, as I remember nothing before. And fitly may my fortune be compared to that of Quartilla, who remembered not her maidenhead. Ind tragus celeresque pili, mirandáque matri Barba me●. Thence goatishnesse, hairs oversoone, a beard To make my mother wonder, and afeared. Physicians commonly enfold and join their rules unto profit, according to the violence of sharp desires or earnest longings, that incidently follow the sick, No longing desire can be imagined so strange and vicious, but nature will apply herself unto it. And then how easy is it to content one's fantasy? In mine opinion, this part importeth all in all; at least more and beyond all other. The most grievous and ordinary evils are those, which fancy chargeth us withal. That Spanish saying doth every way please me: Deffienda me Dios de my. God defend me from myself. Being sick, I am sorry I have not some desire may give me the contentment to satiate and cloy the same: Scarcely would a medicine divert me from it, So do I when I am in health: I hardly see any thing left to be hoped or wished-for. It is pity a man should be so weakened and enlanguished, that he hath nothing left him but wishing. The art of Physic is not so resolute, that whatsoever we do, we shall be void of all authority to do it. She changeth and she varieth according to climates; according to the Moons; according to Fernelius; and according to Scala. If your Physician think it not good that you sleep, that you drink wine, or eat such and such meats: Care not you for that; I will find you another that shall not be of his opinion. The diversity of physical arguments and medicinal opinions, embraceth all manner of forms. I saw a miserable sick man, for the infinite desire he had to recover, ready to burst, yea and to die with thirst; whom not long since another Physician mocked, utterly condemning the others counsel, as hurtful for him. Had not he bestowed his labour well? A man of that coat is lately dead of the stone, who during the time of his sickness used extreme abstinence to withstand his evil; his fellows affirm that contrary, his long fasting had withered and dried him up, and so concocted the gravel in his kidneys. I have found, that in my hurts and other sicknesses, earnest talking distempers and hurts me as much as any disorder I commit. My voice costs me dear, and wearieth me; for I have it loud, shrill and forced: So that, when I have had occasion to entertain the ears of great men, about weighty affairs, I have often troubled them with care how to moderate my voice, This story deserveth to be remembered and to divert me. A certain man, in one of the Greek schools spoke very loud, as I do; the master of the ceremonies sent him word, he should speak lower: let him (quoth he) send me the tune or key in which he would have me speak. The other replied, that he should take his tune from his ears to whom he spoke. It was well said, so he understood himself: Speak according as you have to do with your auditory. For if one say, let it suffice that he heareth you; or, govern yourself by him: I do not think he had reason to say so. The tune or motion of the voice, hath some expression or signification of my meaning: It is in me to direct the same, that so I may the better represent myself. There is a voice to instruct one to flatter, and another to chide. I will not only have my voice come to him, but peradventure to wound and pierce him. When I brawl and rate my lackey, with a sharp and piercing tune; were it fit he should come to me and say, Master speak softly, I understand and hear you very well? Est quaedam vox ad auditum accomod●ta non magnitudine sed proprietat●. There is a kind of voice well applied to the hearing, not by the greatness of it, but by the propriety. The word is half his that speakeh, and half his that harkoneth unto it. The hea●er ought to prepare himself to the motion or bound it taketh. As between those that play at tennis, he who keeps the hazard, doth prepare, stand, stir and march, according as he perceives him who stands at the house, to look, stand, remove and strike the ball, and according to the stroke. Experience hath also taught me this, that we lose ourselves with impatience. Evils have their life, their limits; their diseases and their health, The constitution of diseases is framed by the pattern of the constitution of living creatures. They have their fortune limited even at their birth, and their days allotted them. He that shall imperiously go about, or by compulsion (contrary to their courses) to abridge them, doth lengthen and multiply them; and instead of appealing, doth harsell and wring them. I am of Crantors' opinion, that a man must neither obstinately nor frantikely oppose himself against evils; nor through demissenesse of courage faintingly yield unto them, but according to their condition and ours, naturally incline to them. A man must give sicknesses their passage: And I find that they stay least with me, because I allow them their swinge, and let them do what they list. And contrary to common-received rules, I have without aid or art r●dde myself of some, that are deemed the most obstinately lingering, and unremoovably-obstinate. Let nature work: Let her have her will: She knoweth what snee hath to do, and understands herself better than we do. But such a one died of it, will you say; So shall you doubtless; if not of that, yet of some other disease. And how many have we seen die, when they have had a whole College of Physicians round about their bed, and looking in their excrements? Example is a bright looking-glass, universal and for all shapes to looke-into. If it be a luscious or taste-pleasing potion, take it hardly; it is ever so much present ease. So it be delicious and sweetly tasting, I will never stand much upon the name or colour of it. Pleasure is one of the chiefest kinds of profit. I have suffered rheums, gouty defluxions, relaxions, pant of the heart, megreimes and other suchlike accidents, to grow old in me, and die their natural death; all which have left me, when I half enured and framed myself to foster them. They are better conjured by courtesy, then by bragging or threats, We must gently obey and endure the laws of our condition: We are subject to grow aged, to become weak and to fall sick, in spite of all physic. It is the first lesson the Mexicans give their children; When they come out of their mother's wombs, they thus salute them: My child, thou art come into the world to suffer; Therefore suffer and hold thy peace. It is injustice for one to grieve, that any thing hath befallen to any one, which may happen to all men. Indignare si quid in te iniquè propriè constitutum est. Then take it ill, if any thing be decreed unjustly against thee alone. Look on an aged man, who sueth unto God to maintain him in perfect, full an vigrous health, that is to say, he will be pleased to make him young again: Stulte quid haec frustra votis puerilibus oped as? Orid. Trist. l. 3. el. 8. 11. Fool why dost thou in vain desire, With childish prayers thus t'aspire? Is it not folly? his condition will not bear it. The gout, the stone, the gravel and indigestion are symptoms or effects of long continued years; as heats, rains and winds, are incident to long voyages. Plato cannot believe, that Aescu●apius troubled himself with good rules and diet to provide for the preservarion of life, in a weak, wasted and corrupted body: being unprofitable for his country, inconvenient for his vocation. & unfit to get sound and sturdy Children: and deem not that care inconvenient unto divine justice and heavenly Wisdom, which is to direct all things unto profit. My good sir, the matter is at an end: You cannot be recovered; for the most, you can be but tampered withal, and somewhat underpropt, and for some hours have your misery prolonged. Non secus instantem cupiens fulcire ruinam Corn. Gal. el. 173. Diversis contrà nititur obicibus, Donec certa dies omni compage solutâ Ipsum cum rebus subruat auxilium. So he that would an instant ruin stay, With diverse props strives it to underlay, Till all the frame dissolved a certain day, The props with th'edifice doth oversway. A man must learn to endure that patiently, which he cannot avoid conveniently. Our life is composed, as is the harmony of the World, of contrary things; so of diverse tunes, some pleasant, some harsh, some sharp, some flat, some low and some high: What would that Mu●●tition say, that should love but some one of them? He ought to know how to use them severally and how to entermingle them. So should we both of goods and evils, which are consubstantial to our life. Our being cannot subsist without this commixture. whereto one side is no less necessary than the other. To go about to kick against natural necessity, were to represent the folly of C●esiphon, who undertook to strike or wince with his ●ule. I consult but little about the alterations which I feel: For these kind of men are advantageous, when they hold you at their mercy. They glut your ears with their Prognostications, and surprising me heretofore, when by my sickness I was brought very low and weak, they have injuriously handled me with their Doctrines, positions, prescriptions, magistral fopperies and prosopopeyall gravity; sometimes threatening me with great pain and smart, and othertimes menacing me with near and unavoidable death: All which did indeed move, stir and touch me near, but could not dismay, or remove me from my place or resolution: If my judgement be thereby neither changed nor troubled, it was at least hindered: It is ever in agitation and combating. Now I entreat my imagination as gently as I can, and were it in my power I would clean discharge it of all pain and contestation. A man must further, help, flatter and (if he can) cozen and deceive it. My spirit is fit for that office. There is no want of appearances every where. Did he persuade, as he preacheth, he should successfully aid me. Shall I give you an example? He tells me, it is for my good, that I am troubled with the gravel: That the compositions of my age, must naturally suffer some leak or flaw: It is time they begin to relent and gainsay themselves: It is a common necessity: And it had been no new wonder for me. That way I pay the reward due unto age, and I could have no better reckoning of it. That such company ought to comfort me, being fallen into the most ordinary accident incident to men of my days. I every where see some afflicted with the same kind of evil; whosesociety is honourable unto me, forsomuch as it commonly possesseth the better sort of men: and whose essence hath a certain nobility and dignity connexed unto it: That of men tormented therewith, few are better cheap quit of it: and yet, it costs them the pain of a troublesome diet, tedious regiment, and daily loathe some taking of medicinal drugs and physical potions: Whereas I merely owe it to my good fortune. For, some ordinary broths made of Eringoes or Sea-Holme, and Burstwort, which twice or thrice I have swallowed down, at the request of some Ladies, who more kindly than my disease is unkind, offered me the moiety of theirs, have equally seemed unto me as easy to take, as unprofitable in operation. They must pay a thousand vows unto Aesculapius, and as many crowns to their Physician, for an easy profluvion or abundant running of gravel, which I often receive by the benefit of Nature. Let me be in any company, the decency of my countenance is thereby nothing troubled; and I can hold my water full ten hours, and if need be, as long as any man that is in perfect health: The fear of this evil (saith he) did heretofore affright thee, when yet it was unknown to thee. The cries and despair of those, who through their impatience exasperate the same; bred a horror of it in thee. It is an evil that comes and falls into those limbs, by, and with which thou hast most offended: Thou art a man of conscience: Quae venit indignè paena, dolenda venit. Orid. e●ist. 5. 8. The pain that comes without desert, Comes to us with more grief and smart. Consider but how mild the punishment is, in respect of others, and how favourable. Consider his slowness in coming: he only incommodeth that state and encombreth that season of thy life, which (all things considered) is now become barren and lost, having as it were by way of composition given place unto the sensual licentiousness and want on pleasures of thy youth. The fear and pity, men have of this evil, may serve thee as a cause of glory. A quality, whereof, if thy judgement be purified and thy discourse perfectly sound, thy friends do notwithstanding discover some sparks in thy complexion. It is some pleasure for a man to hear others say of him: Lo there a pattern of true fortitude; lo there a mirror of matchless patience. Thou art seen to sweat with labour, to grow pale and wan, to wax red, to quake and tremble, to cast and vomit blood, to endure strange contractions, to brook convulsions, to trill down brackish and great tears, to make thick, muddy black, bloody and fearful urine, or to have it stopped by some sharp or rugged stone, which pricketh and cruelly wringeth the neck of the yard: entertaining in the mean while the bystanders with an ordinary and undaunted countenance, by pauses jesting and by entermissions dallying with thy servants: keeping a part in a continued discourse; with words now and then excusing thy grief, and abating thy painful sufferance. Dost thou remember those men of former ages, who to keep their virtue in breath and exercise, did with such greediness seek after evils? Suppose Nature driveth and brings thee unto that glorious School, into which thou hadst never come of thine own accord and free-will. If thou tell me, it is a dangerous and mortal evil,: what others are not so? For, it is a kind of physical cozenage, to except any, and so they go directly unto death: what matter is it, whether they go by accident unto it; and easily slide on either hand, toward the way that leadeth us thereunto? But thou diest not because thou art sick; thou diest because thou art living. Death is able to kill thee without the help of any sickness. Sicknesses have to some prolonged their death; who have lived the longer, inasmuch as they imagined they were still dying. Seeing it is of wounds, as of diseases, that some are medicinal and wholesome. The colic is often no less long-lived than you. Many are seen, in whom it hath continued even from their infancy unto their extremest age, who had they not forsaken her company; she was like to have assisted them further. You oftener kill her, than she doth you. And if she did present thee with the image of neer-imminent death, were it not a kind office for a man of that age, to reduce it unto the cogitations of his end? And which is worse, thou hast no longer cause to be cured: Thus and howsoever, common necessity calls for thee against the first day. Consider but how artificially and how mildly she brings thee in distaste with life, and out of liking with the world; not forcing thee with a tyrannical subjection, as infinite other diseases do, wherewith thou seest old men possessed. which continually hold them fettered and ensnared, and without release of weakness nor intemission of pains but by advertisements and instructions, reprised by intervalles: entermixing certain pauses of rest, as if it were: to give thee mean, at thy ease, to meditate and repeat her lesson. To give thee leisure and ability to judge sound, and like a man of a courage to take a resolution, she presents thee with the state of thy condition perfect, both in good and evil, and in one same day, sometimes a most pleasing, sometimes a most intolerable life. If thou embrace not death, at least thou shakest her by the hand once a month. Whereby thou hast more cause to hope, that she will one day surprise thee without threatening. And that being so often brought into the haven; supposing to be still in thy accustomed state, one morning at unawares, both thyself and thy confidence shall be transported over. A man hath no reason to complain against those diseases, which so equally divide time with health. I am beholding to Fortune, that she so often assails me with one same kind of weapon: she by long use doth fashion and enure me unto it, harden and habituate me thereunto: I now know within a little which way and how I shall be quit. For want of natural memory I frame some of paper. And when some new symptom or accident cometh to my evil, I set it down in writing: whence it proceedeth, that having now (in a manner) passed over and through all sorts of examples, if any astonishment threaten me; running and turning over these my loose memorials (as Sybillaes' leaves) Imisse no more to find to comfort me with some favourable prognostication in my former past experience. Custom doth also serve me, to hope the better hereafter. For, the conduct of this distribution, having so long been constituted, it is to be supposed that Nature will not change this course, and no other worse accident shall follow, then that I feel. Moreover, the condition of this disease is not ill seeming to my ready and sudden complexion. When it but faintly assails me, it makes me afraid, because it is like to continue long: But naturally it hath certain vigorous and violent excesses. It doth violently shake me for one or two days. My reins have continued a whole age without alteration, an other is now well-nigh come, that they have changed state. Evilles as well as goods have their periodes: this accident is happily come to his last. Age weakeneth the heat of my stomach: his digestion being thereby less perfect, heesendeth this crude matter to my reins. Why may not, at a certain revolution, the heat of my reins be likewise infeobled: so that they may no longer petrify my phlegm; and Nature address herself to find some other course of purgation? Years have evidently made me dry up certain rheums: And why not these excrements, that minister matter to the stone or gravel? But is there any thing so pleasant, in respect of this sudden change, when by an extreme pain, I come by the voiding of my stone, to recover, as from a lightning, the fair Sunshine of health; so free and full, as it happeneth in our sudden and most violent cholliks'? Is there any thing in this pain suffered, that may be counterpoised to the sweet pleasure of so ready an amendment? By how much more health seemeth fairer unto me after sickness, so near and so contiguous, that I may know them in presence one of another, in their richest ornaments; wherein they attire themselves avy, as it were confront and countercheck one another: Even as the Stoickessay, that Vices were profitably brought in; to give esteem and make head unto virtue; So may we with better reason and bold conjecture, affirm, that Nature hath lent us grief and pain, for the honour of pleasure and service of indolency. When Socrates (after he had his irons or fetters taken from him) felt the pleasure or tickling of that itching, which their weight and rubbing had caused in his legs; he rejoiced, to consider the near affinity that was between pain and pleasure: how they combined together by a necessary bond; so that at turns they enter-engender and succeed one an other: And cry out to good Aesop, that he should from that consideration have taken a proper body unto a acquaint fable. The worst I see in other diseases, is, that they are not so grievous in their effect, as in their issue. A man is whole year to recover himself; ever full of weakness, always full of fear. There is so much hazard and so many degrees before one can be brought to safety, that he is never at an end. Before you can leave off your cover-chiefe and then your nightcap; before you can the air again, or have leave to drink Wine, or lie with your Wife, or eat melons, it is much, if you fall not into some relapse or new misery. The gravel hath this privilege, that it is clean carried away. Whereas other maladies, leave ever some impression and alteration, which leaveth the body susceptible or undertaking of some new infirmity; and they lend one an other their hands. Such are to be excused, as are contented with the possession they have over us, without extending the same, and without introducing their sequel: But courteous, kind and gracious are those, whose passage brings us some profitable consequence. Since I have had the stone-chollike, I find myself discharged of other accidents: more (as me thinks) than I was before, and never had ague since. I argue, that the extreme and frequent vomits I endure, purge me; and on the other side, the distastes and strange abstinences I tolerate, digest my offending humours: and Nature voideth in these stones and gravel, whatsoever is superfluous and hurtful in her. Let no man tell me, that it is a medicine too dear sold. For, what avail so many loathsome pills, stinking potions, cauterizings, incisions, sweatings, setons, diets and so diverse fashions of curing, which, because we are not able to undergo their violence and brook their importunity, do often bring us unto our graves? And therefore, when I am surprised, I take it as physic: and when I am free, I take it as a constant and full deliverance. Lo here an other particular favour of my disease, which is, that he in a manner, keeps his play apart, and let's me keep mine own; or else I want but courage to do it: In his greatest emotion, I have held out ten hours on Horseback with him. Do but endure, you need no other rule or regiment: Play, dally, dine, run, be gamesome, do this, and if you can, do the other thing, your disorder and debauching will rather avail than hurt it. Say thus much to one that hath the pox, or to one that hath the gout, or to one that is belly-broken or codburst. Other infirmities have more universal bonds, torment farre-otherwise our actions, pervert all our order, and engage all the state of man's life unto their consideration: Whereas this doth only twitch and pinch the skin, it neither meddleth with your understanding, nor with your will, tongue, feet nor hands, but leaves them all in your disposition; it rather rouseth and awaketh you, then deter and drowsy you. The mind is wounded by the burning of a fever suppressed by an Epilepsy, confounded by a migrane, and in conclusion, astonished and dismayed by all the diseases that touch or wound the whole mass of his body, and it's noblest parts: This never meddleth with it. If therefore it go ill with it, his be the blame: she bewrayeth, she forsaketh and she displaceth herself. None but fools will be persuaded, that this hard, gretty and massy body, which is concocted and petrified in our kidneys, may be dissolved by drinks. And therefore after it is stirred, there is no way, but to give it passage▪ For if you do not, he will take it himself. This other peculiar commodity I observe, that it is an infirmity, wherein we have but little to divine. We are dispensed from the trouble, whereinto other maladies cast us, by the uncertainty of their causes, conditions and progresses. A trouble infinitely painful. We have no need of doctoral consultations, or collegiall interpretations. Our senses tell us where it is, and what it is. By, and with such arguments, forcible or weak (as Cicero doth the infirmity of his old-age) I endeavour to lull asleep, and study to ammuse my imagination, and supple or anoint her sores. If they grow worse to morrow; to morrow we shall provide for new remedies or escapes. That this is true: lo afterward again, haply the lightèst motion wrings pure blood out of my reins. And what of that? I omit not to stir as before, and with a youthful and insolent heat ride after my hound. And find that I have great reason of so important an accident, which costs me but a deaf heaviness and dumb alteration in that part. It is some great stone that wasteth and consumeth the substance of my kidneys and my life, which I avoid by little and little: not without some natural pleasure, as an excrement now superfluous and troublesome. And feel I something to shake? Except not that I ammuse myself to feel my pulse or look into my urine, thereby to find or take some tedious prevention. I shall come time enough to feel the smart, without lengthening the same with the pain of fear. Who feareth to suffer, suffereth already, because he feareth. Seeing the doubt and ignorance of those, who will and do meddle with expounding the drifts and shifts of nature, with her internal progress; and so many false prognostications of their art should make us understand her means infinitely unknown. There is great uncertainty, variety and obscurity, in that she promiseth and menaceth us. Except old-age, which is an undoubted sign, of deaths approaching: of all other accidents, I see few signs of future things, whereon we may ground our divination. I only judge myself by true-feeling sense and not by discourse: To what end? since I will add nothing thereunto except attention and patience. Will you know what I gain by it? Behold those who do otherwise, and who depend on so many divers persuasions and counsels; how oft imagination presseth them without the body. I have divers times being in safety and free from all dangerous accidents, taken pleasure to communicate them unto Physicians, as but then coming upon me. I endured the arrest or doom of their horrible conclusions, and remained so much the more bounden unto God for his grace, and better instructed of the vanity of this art. Nothing ought so much be recommended unto youth, as activity and vigilancy. Our life is nothing but motion, I am hardly shaken, and am slow in all things, be it to rise, to go to bed, or to my meals. Seven of the clock in the morning is to me an early hour: And where I may command, I neither dine before eleven, norsup till after six. I have heretofore imputed the cause of agues or maladies, whereinto I have fallen, to the lumpish heaviness or drowsy dullness, which my long sleeping had caused me. And ever repented me to fall asleep again in the morning. Plato condemns more the excess of sleeping, than the surfeit of drinking. I love to lie hard and alone, yea and without a woman by me: after the kingly manner: some what well and warm covered. I never have my bed warmed; but since I came to be an old man, if need require, I have clothes given me to warm my feet my stomach. Great Scipio was taxed to be a sluggard or heavy sleeper (in my conceit) for no other cause, but that men were offended, he only should be the man, in whom no fault might justly be found. If there be any curiosity in my behaviour or manner of life, it is rather about my going to bed, than any thing else; but if need be, I generally yield and accommodate myself unto necessity, as well and as quietly, and any other whosoever. Sleeping hath possessed a great part of my life: and as old as I am, I can sleep eight or nine hours together. I do with profit withdraw myself from this sluggish propension, and evidently find myself better by it. Indeed I somewhat feel the stroke of alteration, but in three days it is past. And I see few that live with less (when need is) and that more constantly exercise themselves, nor whom toiling and labour offend less. My body is capable of a firm agitation, so it be not vehement and sudden. I avoid violent exercises, and which induce me to sweat: my limbs will sooner be wearied, then heated. I can stand a whole day long, and am seldom weary with walking. Since my first age, I ever loved rather to ride then walk upon paved streets. Going a foot, I shall dirty myself up to the waste: and little men, going alongst our streets, are subject (for want of presential appearance) to be justled or elbowed. I love to take my rest, be it sitting or lying-along, with my legs as high or higher than my seat. No profession or occupation is more pleasing than the military; A profession or exercise, both noble in execution (for, the strongest, most generous and proudest of all virtues, is true valour) and noble in its cause. No utility, is either more just or universal than the protection of the repose, or defence of the greatness of ones country, The company and daily conversation of so many noble, young and active men, cannot but be wellpleasing to you: the daily and ordinary sight of so divers tragical spectacles: the liberty and uncontrolled freedom of that artelesse and unaffected conversation, masculine and ceremonilesse manner of life: the hourly variety of a thousand ever changing and differing actions: the courageous and mind stirring harmony of warlike music, which at once entertaineth with delight and inflameth with longing, both your ears and your mind: the imminent and matchless honour of that exercise: yea the very sharpness and difficulty of it, which Plato esteemeth so little, that in his imaginary commonwealth, he imparteth the same both to women and to children. As a voluntary Soldier, or adventurous knight you enter the lists, the bands or particular hazards, according as yourself judge of their successes or importance: and you see when your life may therein be excusably employed, pulchrúmque morisuccurrit in armis. Virg. Aen. lib 3 317. And nobly it doth come in mind, To die in arms may honour find. Basely to fear common dangers, that concerneso numberless a multitude, and not to dare, whatso many sorts of men dare, yea whole nations together, is only incident to base, craven and milke-sop-hearts. Company and good fellowship doth hearten and encourage children. If some chance to exceed and outgo you in knowledge, in experience, in grace, in strength, in fortune, you have third and collateral causes to blame and take hold-of; but to yield to them in constancy of mind, and resolution of courage, you have none but yourself to find fault with. Death is much more abject, languishing, grisly and painful in a downbed, then in a field-combate; and agues, catarrhs or apoplexies, as painful and mortal, as an harquebusado. He that should be made undantedly to bear the accidents of common life, should not need to bombast his courage, to become a man at arms. Vivere, mi Lucilli, milis are est. Friend mine, Se●. epist. 96. f. to live is to go onwarre-fare. I can not remember that ever I was scabbed: yet is itching one of nature's sweetest gratifications, and as ready at hand. But repentance doth over-importunately attend on it. I exercise the same in mine ears (and by fits) which within do often itch. I was borne with all my senses sound, almost in perfection. My stomach is commodiously good; and so is my head: both which, together with my wind, maintain themselves athwart my agues. I have outlived that age, to which some nations have not without some reason prescribed for a just end unto life, that they allowed not a man to exceed the same. I have notwithstanding some remyses or intermissions yet: though unconstant and short, so sound and neat, that there is little difference between them and the health and indolency of my youth. I speak not of youthly vigour and cheerful blitheness; there is noreason they should follow me beyond their limits: Non haec amplius est liminis, aut aquae Hor. car. lib. 3. ●d. 10. 15. Coelestis, patience latus. These sides cannot still sustain, Lying without doors, showering rain. My visage and eyes do presently discover me. Thence begin all my changes, and somewhat sharper than they are in effect. I often move my friends to pity, ere I feel the cause of it. My looking glass doth not amaze me: for even in my youth it hath divers times befallen me, so to put-on a dusky look, a wan colour, a troubled behaviour and of ill presage, without any great accident; so that Physicians perceiving no inward cause to answer this outward alteration, ascribed the same to the secret mind or some concealed passion, which inwardly gnawed and consumed me. They were deceived, were my body directly by me, as is my mind, we should march a little more at our ease. I had it then, not only exempted from all trouble, but also full of satisfaction and blithenesse, as it is most commonly, partly by its own complexion, and partly by its own design: Nec vitiant art us aegrae contagia mentis. Ov●d. Triss. l. 3. ●●. 8. 25. Nor doth sick minds infection, Pollute strong joints complexion. I am of opinion, that this her temperature hath often raised my body from his fall: he is often suppressed, whereas she, if not lasciviously wanton, at least in quiet and reposed estate. I had a quartan ague which held me four or five months, and had altogether disvisaged and altered my countenance, yet my mind held ever out, not only peaceably but pleasantly. So I feel no pain ot smart; weakness and languishing do not greatly perplex me. I see diverse corporal defailances, the only naming of which breed a kind of horror, and which I would fear less than a thousand passions and agitations of the mind, which I see in use. I resolve to run no more: it sufficeth me to goeon fair and softly; nor do I complain of their natural decadence or impairing that possesseth me, Quis tumidum guttur miratur in Alpibus? I●●●n. sat. 13. 152. Who wonders a swollen throat to see, In those about the Alps that be? No more, than I grieve that my continuance is not as long and sound, as that of an oske. I have no cause to find fault with my imagination. I have in my life had very few thoughts or cares, that have so much as interrupted the course of my sleep, except of desire, to awaken without dismay or afflicting me. I seldom dream, and when I do, it is of extravagant things and chimaeras; commonly produced of pleasant conceits, rather ridiculous then sorrowful. And think it true, that dreams are the true interpreters of our inclinations: but great skill is required to sort and understand them. Res quae in vit a usurpant homines, cogitant, curant, vident, Quaeque agunt vigilantes, agitánt que ea sicut insomno accidunt Minus mirandum est. It is no wonder if the things, which we Care-for, use, think, do oft, or waking see. Unto us sleeping represented be. Plato saith moreover, that is the office of wisdom to draw divining instructions from them, against future times. Wherein I see nothing but the wonderful experience, that Socrates, Xenophon and Aristotle relate of them: men of unreproovable authority. Histories report, that the inhabitants of the Atlantic Isles never dream: who feed on nothing that hath been slain. Which I add, because it is peradventure the occasion the dream not. Pythagoras' ordained therefore a certain method of feeding, that dreams might be sorted of some purpose. Mine are tender, and cause no agitation of body or expression of voice in me. I have in my days seen many strangely stirred with them. Theon the Philosopher walked in dreaming; and Pericles his boy went upon the tiles and top of houses. I stand not much on nice choice of meats at the table: and commonly begin with the first and nearest dish: and leap not willingly from one taste to another. Multitude of dishes, and variety of services displease me as much as any other throng. I am easily pleased with few messes and hate the opinion of Favorinus, that at a banquet you must have that dish whereon you feed hungerly taken from you, and ever have a new one set in the place: And that it is a niggardly supper, if all the guests be not glutted with pinions and rumps of diverse kinds of fowl: and that only the dainty bird heccafico or snapfig deserveth to be eaten whole at one morsel. I feed much upon salt cates and love to have my bread somewhat fresh: And mine own Baker makes none other for my board; against the fashion of my country. In my youth, my overseers had much ado to reform the refusal I made of such meats as youth doth commonly love best, as sweetmeats, confets and marchpanes. My Tutor was wont to find great fault with my loathing of such dainties, as a kind of squeamish delicacy. And to say truth, it is nothing but a difficulty of taste, where it once is applied. Whosoever removeth from a child a certain particular or obstinate affection to brown bread, to bacon, or to garlic, taketh friandize from him. There are some, that make it a labour, and think it a patience to regret a good piece of powdered beef, or a good gammon of bacon, amongst partridges. Are not they wise men in the mean time? It is the chief dainty of all dainties: It is the taste of nice effeminate fortune, that will be distasted with ordinary and usual things. Per quae luxuria divitiarum taedio ludit. Whereby the lavistinesse of plenty; plays with tedious pleasure. To forbear to make good cheer, because another doth it; for one to have care of his feeding, is the essence of that vice. Si modica caenare times olus omne patella. H●rd. 1. ep●. 5. 2 If in a sorry dish to sup You brook not all th'herb pottage up. Indeed there is this difference, that it is better for one to tie his desires unto things easiest to be gotten, yet is it a vice to tie himself to any strictness. I was heretofore wont to name a kinsman of mine over delicate, because, whilst he lived in our Galleys, he had unlearned and left to lie upon a bed, and to strip himself to go to bed. Had I any male-childrens, I should willingly wish them my fortune. That good Father, it pleased God to allot me (who hath nothing of me but thankfulness for his goodness, which indeed, is as great as great may be) even from my cradle sent me to be brough-up in a poor village of his, where he kept me so long as I sucked, and somewhat longer: breeding me after the meanest and simplest-common fashion: Magna pars libertatis est benè moratus venture. A mannerly Sen epist. 123. belly is a great part of a man's liberty. Never take unto yourself, and much less never give your wives the charge of your children's breeding or education. Let fortune frame them under the popular and natural Laws: Let custom enure them to frugality, and breed them to hardness: That they may rather descend from sharpness, than ascend unto it: His conceit aimed also at another end; To acquaint and re-aly me, with that people and condition of men that have most need of us: And thought I was rather bound to respect those which extend their arms unto me, than such as turn their back toward me. And that was the reason he chose no other gossips to hold me at the so●, than men of abject and base fortune, that so I might the more be bound and tied unto them. His purpose hath not altogeher succeeded ill. I willingly give and accost myself unto the meaner sort; whether it be because there is more glory gotten by them, or through some natural compassion, which in me is infinitely powerful. The faction which I condemn in our civil wars, I shall more sharply condemn when it prospers and flourisheth. I shall in some sort be reconciled unto it, when I see it miserably-depressed and over whelmed. Oh how willingly do I remember that worthy humour of Chelonis, daughter and wife to Kings of Sparta. Whilst Cleombrotus her husband, in the tumultuous disorders of his City, had the upper hand of Leonidas her father, she played the part of a good daughter: alliing herself with her father, in his exile and in his misery, mainly opposing herself against the Conqueror: Did fortune turn? So changed she her mind, couragionsly taking her husband's part: Whom she never forsook, whether-soever his ruin or distress carried him. Having (in my seeming) no other choice, than to follow that side, where she might do most good, where she was most wanted, and where she might show herself most truly pitiful. I do more naturally incline toward the example of Flamineus, who more and rather yielded to such as had need of him, than to those who might do him good: than I bend unto that of Pyrrhus, who was ever wont, demissely to stoop and yield to the mighty, and insolently to grow proud over the weak. Long sitting at meals doth much weary and distemper me: for, be it for want of better countenance and entertainment, or that I used myself unto it when I was a child, I seed as long as I sit at the table. And therefore, being in mine own house, though my board be but short, and that we use not to sit long, I do not commonly sit down with the first, but a pretty while after others: According to the form of Augustus: yet I imitate him not in his rising before others. Contrary, I love to sit a great while after, and to hear some discourse or tabletalk. Always provided I bear not a part myself, for, if my belly be full, I shall soon be weary, and hurt myself with talking: and I find the exercise of lowde-speaking and contesting before meat very pleasant and wholesome. The ancient Grecians and Romans had better reason than we, allotting unto feeding, which is a principal action of man's life (if any other extraordinary business did not let or divert them from it) diverse hours, and the best part of the night: eating and drinking more leisurely than we do, who pass and run over all our actions in post-haste: and extending this natural pleasure unto more leisure and use: entermixing therewith diverse profitable and mind-pleasing offices of civil conversation. Such as have care of me, may easily steal from me what soever they imagine may be hurtful for me: inasmuch as about my feeding, I never desire or find fault with that I see not: That Proverb is verified in me; What eye seeth not, the heart ruth not. But if a dish or any thing else be once set before me, they lose their labour, that goabout to tell me of abstinence: so that, when I am disposed to fast I must be sequestered from eaters, and have no more set before me, than may serve for a stinted and regular collation: for if I but ●itte down at a set table, I forget my resolution. If I chance to bid my cook change the dressing of some kind of meat or dish, all my men know, I infer my appetite is wallowish and my stomach out of ordeer, and I shall hardly touch it. I love all manner of flesh or soul but green roasted and raw sodden, namely, such as may bear it without danger; and love to have them thoroughly mortified; and in diverse of them the very alteration of their smell. Only hardness or toughness of meat doth generally molest me (of all other qualities. I am as careless, and can as well brook them, as any man that ever I knew) so that (contrary to received opinion) even amongst fishes, I shall find some, both too new and overhard and firm, It is not the fault or want of teeth, which I ever had as perfectly-sound and complete as any other man: and which but now, being so old, begin to threaten me. I have from my infancy learned to rub them with my napkin, both in the morning when I rise, and sitting down and rising from the table. God doth them a grace, from whom by little and little he doth subtract their life. It is the only benefit of old age. Their last death shall be so much the less full, languishing and painful: it shall then kill but one half or quarter of a man. Even now I lost one of my teeth, which of itself fell out, without struggling or pain: it was the natural term of its continuance. That part of my being, with diverse others, are already dead and mortified in me, others of the most active, half dead, and which, during the vigour of my age held the first rank. Thus I sink and scape from myself. What foolishness will it be in my understanding, to feel the start of that fall, already so advanced, as if it were perfectly whole? I hope it not; verily I receive a special comfort in thinking on my death, and that it shall be of the most just and natural: and cannot now require or hope other favour of destiny, concerning that, then unlawful. Men persuade themselves, that as heretofore they have had a higher stature, so their lives were longer; But they are deceived: for Solon, of those ancient times, though he were of an exceeding high stature, his life continued but 70. years. Shall I, that have so much & so universally adored, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a mean is best, of former times; and have ever taken a mean measure for the most perfect, therefore pretend a most prodigious and unmeasurable life? whatsoever cometh contrary to Nature's course, may be cumbersome, but what comes according to her, should ever please. Omnia quae secundum naturam fiunt, sunt habenda in bonis. All things are to be accounted good, that are done according to nature. And therefore (saith Plato) is that death violent, which is caused either by wounds or sicknesses; but that of all others the easiest and in some sort delicious, which surpriseth us by means of age. Vitam adolescentibus vis aufert, senibus maturitas. A forcible violence takes their life from the young, but a ripe maturity from the old. Death intermeddleth, and every where confounds itself with our life: declination doth preoccupate her hour, and insinuate itself in the very course of our advauncement: I have pictures of mine own, that were drawn when I was five and twenty, and others being thirty years of age, which I often compare with such as were made by me, as I am now at this instant. How many times do I say, I am no more myself; how much is my present image further from those, then from that of my decease? It is an overgreat abuse unto nature to drag and hurry her so far, that she must be forced to give us over; and abandon our conduct, our eyes, our teeth, our legs and the rest, to the mercy of a foreign help and begged assistance: and to put ourselves into the hands of art, weary to follow us. I am not overmuch or greedily desirous of salads or of fruits, except melons. My father hated all manner of sauces; I love them all. Overmuch eating doth hurt and distemper me: but for the quality I have yet no certain knowledge that any meat offends me: I never observe either a full or waned Moon, nor make a difference between the Spring time or Autumn. There are certain inconstant and unknown motions in us. For (by way of example) I have heretofore found redish-rootes to be very good for me, than very hurtful, and now again very well agreeing with my stomach. In divers other things, I feel my appetite to change, and my stomach to diversify from time to time. I have altered my course of drinking, sometimes from white to claret wine, and then from claret to white again. I am very friand and gluttonous of fish; and keep my shroving days upon fish days; and my seasts upon fasting-days. I believe as some others do, that fish is of lighter digestion than flesh. As I make it a conscience to eat flesh upon a fish day, so doth my taste to eat fish and flesh together. The diversity between them, seems to me over-distant. Even from my youth I was wont now and then to steal some repast, either that I might sharpen my stomach against the next day; for, (as Epicurus was wont to fast, and made but sparing meals, thereby to accustom his voluptuousness, to neglect plenty: I, contrary to him to enure my sensuality to speed the better, and more merrily to make use of plenty) or else I fasted, the better to maintain my vigour for the service or performance of some bodily or mental action: for both are strangely dulled and ideled ●● me, through overmuch fullness and repleatenesse. (And above all, I hate that foolish combination, of so sound and buxom a Goddess, with that indigested and belching God all puffed with the ●ume of his liquor) or to recover my crazed stomach, or because I wanted some good company. And I say as Epicuria said, that A man should not so much respect▪ what he eateth, as with whom he eateth. And commend Chilon; that he would not promise to come to Periander's feast, before he knew certainly who were the other bidden g●●sts. No viands are so sweetly pleasing, nor no sauce so tasteful, as that which is drawn from conversable and mutual society. I think it wholesome to eat more leisurely, and less in quantity, and to feed oftener: But I will have appetite and hunger to be endeared: I should find no pleasure, after a physical manner, to swallow three or four forced and spare meals a day. Who can assure me, if I have a good taste or stomach in the morning, that I shall have it again at supper? Let us old men; let us, I say, take the first convenient time that cometh: Let us leave hopes and prognostikes unto Almanac-makers. The extreme fruit of my health, is pleasure: Let us hold fast on the present, and to us known. I eschew constancy in these Laws of fasting. Who so will have a form to serve him, let him avoid continuance of it: but we harden ourselves unto it, and thereunto wholly apply our forces: six months after, you shall find your stomach so enured unto it, that you shall have gotten nothing but this, to have lost the liberty to use it otherwise without damage. I use to go with my legs and thighs no more covered in Summer than in Winter; for I never wear but one pair of single like-stockins. For the easing of my rheum and help of my colic, I have of late used to keep my head and belly warm. My infirmities did in few days habituate themselves thereunto, and disdained my ordinary provisions. From a single nightcap, I came to a double coverchef, and from a bonnet, to a lined and quilted hat. The bum basting of my doublet, serves me now for no more use than a stomacher: it is a thing of nothing, unless I add a hare or a vulture's skin to it; and some warm wrapping about my head. Follow this gradation and you shall go a fair pace, I will do no such thing. If I durst I could find in my hare to revoke the beginning I have given unto it. Fall you into any new inconvenience? This reformation will no longer avail you. You are so accustomed unto it, that you are driven to seek some new one. So are they overthrown, that suffer themselves with forced formalities or strict rules, to be entangled, and do superstitiously constrain themselves unto them: they have need of more, and of more after that: they never come to an end. It is much more commodious both for our business and for our pleasure (as did our forefathers) to lose our dinner, and defer making of good cheer, unto the hour of withdrawing and of rest, without interrupting the day: So was I wont to do heretofore. I have for my health found out since by experience, that on the contrary, it is better to dine, and that one shall digest better being awake. Whether I be in health or in sickness, I am not much subject to be thirsty: indeed my mouth is somewhat dry, but without thirst. And commonly I use not to drink, but when with eating I am forced to desire it, and that is when I have eaten well. For a man of an ordinary stature I drink indifferent much. In Summer, and at an hungry meal, I not only exceed the limits of Augustus, who drunk but precisely three times: but, not to offend the rule of Democritus, who forbade us to stay at four, as an unlucky number; if need be, I come to five: Three demisextiers, or there about. I like little glasses best; and I love to empty my glass: which some others dislike, as a thing unseemly. Sometimes, and that very often, I temper my wine one half, and many times three parts with water. And when I am in mine own house, from an ancient custom, which my father's physician ordained both for him, and himself, look what quantity of Wine is thought will serve me a meal, the same is commonly tempered two or three hours before it be served in, and so kept in the seller. It is reported, that Cranaus King of the Athenians, was the first, that invented the mingling of Wine with Water. Whether it were profitable or no, I will not now dispute or stand upon. I think it more decent and more wholesome, that children should drink no Wine, until they be passed the age of sixteen or eighteen years. The most usual and common form of life, is the best: Each particularity, doth in mine opinion impugn it. And I should as much detest a German, that should put Water in his Wine, as a Frenchman, that should drink it pure. Public custom giveth Law unto such things. I fear a foggy and thick air, and shun smoke more than death; (the first thing I began to repair when I came to be master of mine own house, was the chimneys and privies, which, in most of our buildings, is a general and intolerable fault) and mischiefs and difficulties attending on War, there is none I hate more, than in hot-sweltring wether, to ride up and down all the day-long in smoky dust, as many times our Soldiers are feign to do. I have a free and easy respiration, and do most commonly passover my murres and colds without offence to my lungs, or without coughing. The sultry heat of summer is more offensive to me, than the sharpness of Winter: for, Besides the incommodity of heat, which is less to be remedied, than the inconvenience of cold; and besides the force of the suns beams, which strike into the head, mine eyes are much offended with any kind of glittering or sparkling light; so that I cannot well sit at dinner over against a cleare-burning fire. To allay or dim the whiteness of paper, when I was most given to reading, I was wont to lay a piece of green glass upon my book, and was thereby much eased. Hitherto I never used spectakles, nor know not what they mean; and can yet see as far as ever I could, and as any other man; true it is, that when night comes, I begin to perceive a dimness and weakness in reading; the continual exercise whereof, and specially by night, was ever somewhat troublesome unto mine eyes. Loe-heere a steppe-backe, and that very sensible. I shall recoil no more, from a second to a third, and from a third to a fourth, so gently, that before I feel the declination and age of my sight, I must be stark blind. So artificial do the Fates untwist our lives-threede. Yet am I in doubt, that my hearing is about to become thick: and you shall see, that I shall have lost it half, when yet I shall find fault with their voices that speak unto me. The mind must be strained to a high pitch, to make it perceive how it declineth. My going is yet very nimble, quick and stout; and I wot not which of the two I can more hardly stay at one instant, either my mind or my body. I must like that preacher well, that can tie mine attention to a whole sermon. In places of ceremonies, where every man doth so nicely stand upon countenance, where I have seen Ladies hold their eyes so steady, I could never so hold out, but some part of mine would ever be gadding: although I be sitting there, I am not well settled. As Chrysippus the Philosophers chambermaid, said of her Master, that he was never drunk but in his legs; for wheresoever he sat, he was ever accustomed to be wagging with them: and this she said at what time store of Wine had made his companions cuppe-shotten, and yet he felt no alteration but continued sober in mind. It might likewise have been said of me, that even from mine infancy, I had either folly or quickesilver in my feet, so much stirring and natural inconstancy have I in them, where ever I place them. It is unmannerliness, and prejudicial unto health, yea and to pleasure also, to feed grossly and greedily, as I do. I shall sometimes through haste bite my tongue and fingers ends. Diogenes' meeting with a child, that did eat so, gave his tutor a whirret on the ear. There were men in Rome, that as others teach youth to go with a good grace, so they taught men to chew, with decency, I do sometimes lose the leisure to speak, which is so pleasing an entertainment at the table, provided they be discourses short, witty and pleasant. There is a kind of jealousy and envy between our pleasures, and they often shock and hinder one an other. Alcibiades, a man very exquisitely-skilfull in making good cheer, inhibited all manner of music at tables, because it should not hinder the delight of discourses, for the reason which Plato affords him: that it is a custom of populare or base men to call for minstrels or singers at feasts, and an argument, they want witty or good discourses, and pleasing entertainment, wherewith men of conceit and understanding know how to enterfeast and entertain themselves. Varro requireth this at a banquet: an assembly of persons, fair, goodly and handsome of presence, affable and delightful in conversation, which must not be dumb nor dull, sullen nor slovenly: cleanliness and neatness in meats: and fair wether. A good minde-pleasing table-entertainement, is not a little voluptuous feast, nor a meanly artificial banquet. Neither great or stern commanders in Wars, nor famous or strict Philosophers have disdained the use or knowledge of it. My imagination hath bequeathed three of them to the keeping of my memory, only which▪ fortune did at several times, yield exceedingly delightsome unto me. My present state doth now exclude me from them. For, every one, according to the good temper of body or mind, wherein he finds himself, addeth either principal grace or taste unto them. Myself, who but grovel on the ground, hate that kind of inhuman wisdom, which would make us disdainful and enemies of the body's reformation. I deem it an equal injustice, either to take natural sensualities against the hart, or to take them too near the hart. Xerxes was a ninnihammer, who enwrapped and given to all human voluptuousness, proposed rewards for those, that should devise such as he had never heard-of. And he is not much behind him in sottishness, that goes about to abridge those, which nature hath divised for him. One should neither follow nor avoid them: but receive them. I receive them somewhat more amply and graciously, and rather am contented to follow natural inclination. We need not exaggerate their inanity: it will sufficiently be felt, and doth sufficiently produce itself. Godamercy our weak, crazed and joy-diminishing spirit, which makes us distaste both them and himself. He treateth both himself and whatsoever he receiveth sometimes forward and othertimes backward, according as himself is either insatiate, vagabond, new-fangled or variable. Sincerum est nisi vas, quod cúnque infundis, accescit. Hor l. 1. epist. 2 54. In no sweet vessel all you pour, In such a vessel soon will sour. Myself, who brag so curiously to embrace and particularly to allow the commodities of life; whensoever I look precisely into it. I find nothing therein but wind. But what? we are nothing but wind. And the very wind also, more wisely than we, loveth to bluster and to be in agitation: And is pleased with his own offices: without desiring stability or solidity; qualities that be not his own. The mere pleasures of imagination, as well as does pleasure (say some) are the greatest: as the balance of Critolaüs did express. It is no wonder, she composeth them at her pleasure, and cuts them out of the whole cloth. I see daily some notable precedents of it, and peradventure to be desired. But I, that am of a commixed condition, homely and plain, cannot so thoroughly bite on that only and so simple object: but shall grossly and carelessly give myself over to the present delights, of the general and human law. Intellectualy sensible, and sensiby-intellectuall. The Cyrenaique Philosophers are of opihion, that as griefs, so corporal pleasures are more powerful; and as double, so, more just. There are some (as Aristotle saith) who with a savage kind of stupidity, will seem distasteful or squeamish of them. Some others I know, that do it out of ambition. Why renounce they not also breathing? why live they not of their own, and refuse light, because it cometh of gratuity; and costs them neither invention nor vigour? That Mars, or Pallas, or Mercury, should nourish them to see, instead of Ceres, Venus, or Bacchus. Will they not seek for the quadrature of the circle, even upon their wives? I hate that we should be commanded to have our minds in the clouds, whilst our bodies are sitting at the table: yet would I not have the mind to be fastened thereunto, nor wallow upon it, nor lie along thereon, but to apply itself and sit at it. Aristippus defended but the body, as if we had no soul: Zeno embraced but the soul, as if we had no body. Both viciously, Pythagoras (say they) hath followed a Philosophy, all in contemplation: Socrates altogether in manners and in action: Plato hath found a mediocrity between both. But they say so by way of discourse. For, the true temperature is found in Socrates; & Plato is more Socratical than Pythagorical, and it becomes him best. When I dance, I dance; and when I sleep, I sleep. And when I am solitary walking in a fair orchard, if my thoughts have a while entertained themselves with strange occurrences, I do another while bring them to walk with me in the orchard, and to be partakers of the pleasure of that solitariness and of myself. Nature hath like a kind mother observed this, that such actions as she for our necessities hath enjoined unto us, should also be voluptuous unto us. And doth not only by reason but also by appetite invite us unto them: it were injustice to corrupt her rules. When I behold Caesar and Alexander in the thickest of their wondrous great labours, so absolutely to enjoy human and corporal pleasures, I say not, that they release thereby their mind, but rather strengthen the same; submitting by vigour of courage their violent occupation, and laborious thoughts to the customary use of ordinary life. Wise had they been, had they believed, that that was their ordinary vocation, and this their extraordinary. What egregious fools are we ● He hath passed his life in idleness, say we; alas I have done nothing this day. What? have you not lived? It is not only the fundamental, but the noblest of your occupation. Had I been placed or thought fit for the managing of great affairs, I would have showed what I could have performed. Have you known how to meditate and manage your life? you have accomplished the greatest work of all. For a man to show and exploit himself, nature hath no need of fortune, she equally shows herself upon all grounds, in all suits, before and behind, as it were without curtines, welt or guard. Have you known how to compose your manners? you have done more than he who hath composed books. Have you known how to take rest? you have done more than he, who hath taken Empires and Cities. The glorious master piece of man, is, to live to the purpose. All other things, as to reign, to govern, to hoard up treasure, to thrive and to build, are for the most part but appendices and supports thereunto. It is to me a great pleasure, to see a General of an army at the foot of a breach, which he ere long intendeth, to charge or enter; all whole, undistracted and carelessly to prepare himself, whilst he sits at dinner with his friends about him, to talk of any matter. And I am delighted to see Brutus, having both heaven and earth conspired against him and the liberty of Rome, by stealth to take some hours of the night from his other cares and walking of the round, in all security to read, to note and to abbreviate Polybius. It is for base and petty minds, dulled and overwhelmed with the weight of affairs, to be ignorant how to leave them, and not to know how to free themselves from them; nor how to leave and take them again. O fortes peior áque passi, Hor. ●●● l 1. ●●. 7. 30. Mecum s●pe viri, nunc vino pellite curas, Cras ingens iterabimus aequor. Valiant compeers, who oft have worse endured With me, let now with wine your cares be cured: To morrow we again Will launch into the main. Whether it be in jest or earnest, that the Sorbo●icall or theological wine, and their feasts or gaudy days are now come to be proverbially jested-at: I think there is some reason, that by how much more profitably and seriously they have bestowed the morning in the exercise of their schools, so much more commodiously and pleasantly should they dine at noon. A clear conscience to have well employed & industriously spent the other hours, is a perfect seasoning and savoury condiment of tables. So have wise men lived. And that inimitable contention unto virtue, which so amazeth us, in both Cato's, their so strictly-severe humour, even unto importunity, hath thus mildly submitted myself, and taken pleasure in the laws of human condition, and in Venus and Bacchus. According to their Sects-precepts, which require a perfectly wise man, to be fully-expert and skilful in the true use of sensualities, as in all other duties or devoires belonging to life. Cui cor sapiat, ei & sapiat palatus. Cic fin. l. b. 2. Let his palate be savoury, whose heart is savoury. Easie-yeelding and facility doth in my conceit, greatly honour, and is best befitting a magnanimous and noble mind. Epaminondas thought it no scorn, to thrust himself amongst the boys of his city, and dance with them, yea and to sing and play, and with attention busy himself, were it in things that might derogate from the honour and reputation of his glorious victories, and from the perfect reformation of manners, that was in him. And amongst so infinite admirable actions of Scipio the grandfather, a man worthy to be esteemed of heavenly race, nothing addeth so much grace unto him, as to see him carelessly to dally and childishly to trifle, in gathering and choosing of cockle-shells, and play at cost castle alongst the sea-shoare with his friend L●lius. And if it were fowl whether, ammusing and solacing himself, to represent in writing and comedies the most popular and base actions of men. And having his head continually busied with that wonderful enterprise against Hannibal and Africa, yet he still visited the schools in Cicilie, and frequented the lectures of Philosophy, arming his enemy's teeth at Rome with envy and spite. Nor any thing more remarkable in Socrates, then, when being old and crazed, he would spare so much time as to be instructed in the art of dancing and playing upon instruments; and thought the time well bestowed. Who notwithstanding hath been seen to continue a whole day and night in an ecstasy or trance, yea ever standing on his feet, in presence of all the Greek army, as it were surprised and ravished by some deed and minde-distracting thought. He hath been noted to be the first, amongst so infinite valiant men in the army, headlong to rush out, to help and bring-of Alcibiades, engaged and enthronged by his enemies: to cover him with his body, and by main force of arms and courage, bring him off from the rout: And in the Deliane battle, to save and disengage Xenophon, who was beaten from his horse. And in the midst of all the Athenian people, wounded, as it were with so unworthy a spectacle, headlong present himself to the first man, to recover Theramenes, from out the hands of the officers and satelites, of the thirty tyrants of A●hens, who were leading him to his death; and never desisted from his bold attempt, until he met with Theramenes himself, though he were followed and assisted with two more. He hath been seen (provoked thereunto by a matchless beauty, wherewith he was richly endowed by nature) at any time of need to maintain severe continency. He hath continually been noted to march to the wars on foot; to break the ice with his bare feet; to wear one same garment in summer and winter, to exceed all his companions in patience of any labour or travel; to eat no more, or otherwise at any banquet, then at his ordinary: He hath been seen seven and twenty years together with one same undismaide countenance, patiently to bear and endure hunger, poverty, the indocilitie and stubbornness of his children, the frowardness and scratchings of his wife; and in the end malicious detraction, tyranny, imprisonment, shakles and poison. But was that man envited to drink to him by duty of civility? he was also the man of the army, to whom the advantage thereof remained. And yet he refused not, nor disdained to play for nuts with children, nor to run with them upon a hobby-horse, wherein he had a very good grace: For, all actions (saith Philosophy) do equally beseem well, and honour a wise man. We have good ground and reason, and should never be weary to present the image of this incomparable man, unto all patterns and form of perfections. There are very few examples of life, absolutely full and pure. And our instruction, is greatly wronged, in that it hath certain weak, defective and unperfect forms proposed unto it, scarcely good for any good use, which divert and draw us back; and may rather be termed Corrupters than Correctors. Man is easily deceived. One may more easily go by the sides, where extremity serveth as a bound, as a stay and as a guide, then by the midway, which is open and wide; and more according unto art, then according unto nature: but therewithal less nobly and with less commendation. The greatness of the mind is not so much, to draw up and hale forward, as to know how to range, direct and circumscribe itself. It holdeth for great whatever is sufficient. And showeth her height, in loving mean things better than eminent. There is nothing so goodly, so fair and so lawful as to play the man well and duly: Nor Science so hard and difficult, as to know how to live this life well. And of all the infirmities we have, the most savage, is to despise our being. Whoso will sequester or distract his mind, le● him hardily do it, if he can, at what time his body is not well at ease, thereby to discharge it from that contagion: And elsewhere contrary; that she may assist and favour him, and not refuse to be partaker of his natural pleasures, and conjugally be pleased with them: adding thereunto, if she be the wiser, moderation, lest through indiscretion, they might be confounded with displeasure. Intemperance is the plague of sensuality; and temperance is not her scourge, but rather her seasoning. Eudoxus, who thereon established his chief fecility, and his companions, that raised the same to so high a pitch, by means of temperance, which in them was very singular and exemplar, savoured the same in her most gracious sweetness. I enjoin my mind, with a look equally regular, to behold both sorrow and voluptuousness: Eodem ènim vitio est effusio animi in laeri●●a, quo in dolours contractio. Cic. Tusc. qu. l. ● As faulty is the enlarging of the mind in mirth, as the contracting it in grief; and equally constant: But the one merrily, and the other severely: And according to that she may bring unto it, to be as careful to extinguish the one, as diligent to quench the other. To have a perfect insight into good, draws with it an absolute insight into evil. And sorrow hath in her tender beginning something that is unavoidable: and voluptuousness in her excessive end, something that is evitable. Plato coupleth them together, and would have it to be the equal office of fortitude, to combat against sorrows, and fight against the immoderate and charming blan●ishments of sensuality. They are two fountains, at which whoso draweth, whence, when and as much as he needeth, be it a city, be it a man, be it a beast, he is very happy. The first must be taken for physic and necessity, and more sparingly: The second for thirst, but not unto drunkenness. Pain, voluptuousness, love and hate, are the first passions a child feeleth: if reason approach, and they apply themselves unto it; ●hat is virtue. I have a Dictionary severally and wholly to myself: I pass the time when it is foul and incommodious; when it is fair and good, I will not pass it: I run it over again, and take hold of it. A man should run the bad, and settle himself in the good. This vulgar phrase of pass time, and, to pass the time, represents the custom of those wise men, who think to have no better account of their life, then to pass it over and escape it: to pass it over and balk it, and so much as in them lieth, to ignore and avoid it, as a thing of an irksome, tedious, and to be disdained quality. But I know it to be otherwise; and find it to be both priseable and commodious, yea in her last declination; where I hold it. And Nature hath put the same into our hands, furnished with such and so favourable circumstances, that if it press and molest us, or if unprofitably it escape us, we must blame ourselves. S●●lti vita ingrata est, trepida est, tota in suturum fertur. A ●ooles life is all pleasant, all fea●●f●●l▪ all fond of the future. I therefore prepare and compose myself, to forego and lose it without S●●▪ ep●st▪ 15. grudging; but as a thing that is loseable and transitory by its own condition: not as troublesome and importunate▪ Nor beseems it a man not to be grieved when he dieth, except they be such as please themselves to live still. There is a kind of husbandry in knowing ●●ow to enjoy it: I enjoy it double to others. For, the measure in ●ovissance dependeth more or less 〈…〉 the application we lend it. Especially at this instant, that I perceive mine to be ●●ort in time, I will extend it in weight: I still stay the readiness of her flight, by the promptitude of my holefast by it: and by the vigour of custom recompense the haste of her fleeting. According a● the possession of life is more short, I must endeavour to make it ●ore profound and full. Other men feel the sweetness of a contentment and prosperity. I feel it as well as they; but it is not in passing and gliding: yet should it be studied, tasted and ruminated, thereby to yield him condign thanks, that it pleased to grant the same unto us. They enjoy other pleasures, as that of sleep, without knowing them. To the end that sleep should not dully and unfeelingly escape me, and that I might better taste and be acquainted with it, I have heretofore found it good, to be troubled and interrupted in the same. I have a kind of contentment to consult with myself: which consultation I do superficially run over, but considerately sound t●e same, and apply my reason to entertain and receive it, which ●● now become froward, peevish and distasted. Do I find my sel●e in some quiet mood? is there any sensuality that tickles me? I do not suffer the same to bu●●e it sel●e or dally about senses, bet associate my mind unto it: Not to engage or plunge itself therein, but therein to take delight: not to lose, but therein to find itself. And for her part I employ her, to view herself in that prosperous estate, to ponder and esteem the good fortune she hath, and to amplify the same. She measureth how much she is beholding unto God, for that the is at rest with her conscience, and free from other intestine passions, & hath her in body hernatural disposition: orderly & competently enjoying certain flattering and effeminate functions, with which it pleaseth him of his grace to recompense the griefs, wherewith his justice at his pleasure smiteth us. Oh how availful is it unto her, to be so seated, that whatever she casteth her eyes, the heavens are calm round about her; and no desire no fear or doubt troubleth the air before her: there is no difficulty, either past, or present, or to come, over which her imagination passeth not without offence. This consideration takes a great lustre from the comparison of different conditions. Thus do I in a thousand shapes propose unto myself, those whom either fortune, or their own error doth transport and torment. And these nearer, who so slackly and incuriously receive their good fortune. They are men which indeed pass their time: they overpass the present and that which they possess, thereby to serve their hopes with shadows and vain images, which fancy sets before them, Morte oblit â quales fama est volit are figure as Virg. ●●p. l. 10. 641. Aut quae sopitos deludunt somnia sensus. Such walking shapes we say, when men are dead, Dreams, whereby sleeping senses are misled. Which hasten and prolong their flight, according as they are followed. The fruit and scope of their pursuit, is to pursue: As Alexander said, that The end of his travel, was to travel. Nilactum credens cum quid superesset agendum. ●ucan. l. ●. 656. Who thought that nought was done, When aught remained undone. As for me then, I love myself and cherish it, such as it hath pleased God to grant it us. I desire not he should speak of the necessity of eating and drinking. And I would Se●. epist. 119. think to offend no less excusably, in desiring it should have it double. Sapiens divi●iarum naturalium quaesitor acerrimus. A wise man is a most eager and earnest searcher of those things which are natural. Nor that we should sustain ourselves by only putting a little of that drug into our mouth, wherewith Epimenides was wont to allay hunger, and yet maintained himself. Nor that we should insensibly produce children at our finger's ends or at our heels, but rather (speaking with reverence) that we might with pleasure and voluptuousness produce them both at our heels and fingers ends. Nor that the body should be void of desire, and without tick-ling delight. They are ungrateful and impious complaints. I cheerfully and thankfully, and with a good heart, accept what nature hath created for me; and am therewith well pleased, and am proud of it. Great wrong is offered unto that great and all-puissant Giver, to refuse his gift, which is so absolutely good; and disannul or disfigure the same, since he made perfectly good. Omnia quae secundum naturam Cie. sin▪ ●on. l. sunt; estimatione dignasunt. All things that are according to nature, are wothy to be esteemed. Of Philosophies opinions, I more willingly embrace those, which are the most solid: and that is to say, such as are most human and most ours: My discourses are suitable to my manners; low and humble. She than brings forth a child well pleasing me, when she betakes herself to her Quiddities and Ergoes, to persuade us, that it is a barbarous alliance, to marry what is divine with that which is terrestrial; wed reasonable with unreasonable; combine severe with indulgent, and couple honest with unhonest: that voluptuousness is a brutal quality, unworthy the taste of a wiseman. The only pleasure he draws from the enjoying of a fair young bride, is the delight of his conscience, by performing an action according unto order; As to put on his boots for a profitable riding. Oh that his followers had no more right, or sinuewes, o● pith, or juice, at the dis-maydening of their wives, than they have in his Lesson. It is not that, which Socrates, both his and our Master, saith; He valueth rightly as he ought corporal voluptuousness: but he preferreth that of the mind, as having more force, more constancy, facility, variety and dignity. This according to him, goeth nothing alone, he not so fantastical; but only first. For him, temperance is a moderatrix, and not an adversary of sensualities. Nature is a gentle guide: Yet not more Ibid. l. 5. gentle, then prudent and just. Intrandum est in rerum nauram, & penitus quid ea postulet, pervidendum. We must enter into the nature of things, and thoroughly see what she inwardly requires. I quest after her tract; we have confounded her with artificial traces. And that Academical and Peripatetical summum bonum or sovereign felicity, which is, to live according to her rules: by this reason becometh difficult to be limited, and hard to be expounded. And that of the Stoics, couzin german to the other, which is, to yield unto nature. Is it not an error, to esteem some actions less worthy, forsomuch as they are necessary? ●et shall they never remove out of my head, that it is not a most convenient marriage, to wed Pleasure unto Necessity. With which (saith an ancient Writer) the Gods do ever complot and consent. To what end do we by a divorce dismember a frame contexted with so mutual, coherent and brotherly correspondency? chose, let us repair and renew the same by interchangeable offices: that the spirit may awake and quicken the dull heaviness of the body, and the body stay the lightness of the spirit, and settle and fix the same. Qui v●lut summum Aug. verb▪ apostol. ser. 13. c. 6 bonum, laudet animae naturam, & tanquam malum, naturam carnis accusat, profectò & animam carnaliter appetit, & carnem incarnaliter fugit, quoniam id vanitate sentit humana, non veritate divina. He that praiseth the nature of the soul, as his principal good, & accuseth nature of the flesh as evil, assuredly he both carnally affecteth the soul and carnally escheweth the fl●sh, since he is of this mind not by divine verity, but human vanity. There is no part or parcel unworthy of our care in that present, which God hath bestowed upon us: We are accoumptable even for the least hair of it. And it is no commission for fashion sake for any man, to direct man according to her condition: it is express, natural and principal: And the Creator hath seriously and severely given the same unto us. Only authority is of force with men of common reach and understanding; and is of more weight in a strange language. But here let us charge again. Stul●i●iae proprium quis non dixerit, ignauè & contumaciter facere quaefacienda sunt: & aliò c●rpus impellere, alio animum, distrahique inter diversissimos motus? Who will not call it a property of folly to do sloathfully and frowardly, what is to be done, and one way to drive the body and another way the mind, and himself to be distracted into most diverse motions? Which, the better to see, le●such a man one day tell you the ammusements and imaginations, which he puts into his own head, and for which he diverteth his thoughts from a good repast, and bewaileth the hour, he employeth in feeding himself: you shall find there is nothing so wallowish in all the messes of your table, as is that goodly entertainment of his mind (It were often better for us to be sound asleep, than awake unto that we do) and you shall find, that his discourses and intentions are not worth your meanest dish. Suppose they were the entrancings of Archimedes himself: and what of that? I here touch not, nor do I blend with that rabble or raskality of men, as we are, nor with that vanity of desires and cogitations, which divert us, only those venerable minds, which through a fervency of devotion and earnestness of religion, elevated to a constant and conscientious meditation of heavenlydivine things, and which by the violence of a lively and virtue of a vehement hope, preoccupating the use of eternal soul-saving nourishment; the final end, only stay and last scope of Christian desires; the only constant delight and incorruptible pleasure; disdain to rely on our necessitous, fleeting and ambiguous commodities: and easily resign, the care and use of sensual and temporal feeding unto the body. It is a privileged study. Supercelestial opinions, and under-terrestriall manners, are things, that amongst us, I have ever seen to be of singular accord. Aesop that famous man, saw his Master piss as he was walking: What (said he) must we not &c. when we are running? Let us husband time as well as we can. Yet shall we employ much of it, both idly and ill. As if our mind had not other hours enough to do her business, without disassociating herself from the body in that little space which she needeth for her necessity. They will be exempted from them and escape man. It is mere folly: instead of transforming themselves into Angels, they transchange themselves into beasts: in am of advancing, they abase themselves. Such transcending humor● affright me as much, as steepy, high and inaccessible places. And I find nothing so hard to be digested in Socrates his life, as his ecstasies and communication with Daemons. Nothing so human in Plato, as that which they say, he is called divine. And of our sciences those which are raised and extolled for the highest, seem to me, the most basest and terrestrial. I find nothing so humble and mortal in Alexander's life, as his concepts about his immortalization. Philotas by his answer quipped at him very pleasantly and wittily. He had by a letter congratulated with him, and rejoiced that the Oracle of jupiter Hammon had placed him amongst the Gods; to whom he answered, that in respect and consideration of him, he was very glad; but yet there was some cause those men should be pitied, that were to live with a man and obey him, who outwent others, and would not be contented with the state and condition of a mortal man. — Dijs te minorem quòd geris, imperas. H●r. car. l. 3 ●d. 6. Since thou less than the Gods Bearest thee, thou rul'st with odds. The acquaint inscription, wherewith the Athenians honoured the coming of Pompey into their City, agreeth well, and is conformable to my meaning. D'autant es tu Dieu, come ●lut. ●it. Po● p Tuter●cognois homme. So far a God thou may'st accounted be As thou a man dost reacknowledge thee. It is an absolute perfection, and as it were divine for a man to know how to enjoy his being loyally. We seek for other conditions because we understand and not the use of ours: and go out of ourselves, forsomuch as we know not what abiding thereiss. We may long enough get upon stilis, for be we upon them, yet must we go with our own legs. And sit we upon the highest throne of the World, yet fit we upon our own tail. The best and most commendable lives, and best pleasing me are (in my conceit) those which with order are fitted, and with decorum are ranged to the common mould and human model: but without wonder or extravagancy. Now hath old age need to be handled more tenderly. Let us recommend it unto that God, who is the protector of health, and fountain all wisdom: but blithe and social: Frui paratis & valido mihi H●●. car. l. 1. ●d. 31. 17. Latoe dones, & precor i●tegra Cum mente, nec turpem senectam, Degere, nec Cythara carentem. Apollo grant, enjoy health I may That I have got, and with sound mind, I pray: Nor that I may with shame spend my old years, Nor wanting music to delight mine ears. The end of the third and last Book.