ESSAYS OF MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE. IN THREE BOOKS. With Marginal Notes and Quotations, And an Account of the Author's Life. With a short Character of the Author and Translator, by a Person of Honour.  
Made English by CHARLES COTTON, Esq  
— Viresque acquirit eundo.  Virg. lib. 4. Aen. 
The First Volume.  
The Third Edition, with the Addition of a Complete Table to each Volume, and a full defence of the Author.  
LONDON, Printed for M. Gillyflower and W. Hensman in Westminster-Hall, and R. Wellington in St. Paul's Church Yard, and H. Hindmarsh in Cornhill. 1700.   

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

Place this next after the Epistle Dedicatory.   

ADVERTISEMENT.  
SInce the Death of the Ingenious Translator of these Essays, an imperfect Transcript of the following Letter was intended for the Press, but having the good fortune to meet with a more correct Copy, I thought myself under a necessity of Publishing it with this Third Edition, not only to do justice to his Memory, but to the Great Person he Chose for his Patron.  
M. G.   

This for Charles Cotton Esq at his House at Berisford. To be left at Ashburne in Derbyshire.  
SIR,  
I have to long delayed my Thanks to you for giving me such an obliging Evidence of your Remembrance: that alone would have been a welcome Present, but when joined with the Book in the World I am the best entertained with, it raiseth a strong desire in me to be better known, where I am sure to be so much pleased. I have till now thought Wit could not be Translated, and do still retain so much of that Opinion, that I believe it impossible, except by one whose Genius cometh up to that of the Author. You have so kept the Original Strength of his Thought, that it almost tempts a Man to believe the Transmigration of Souls, and that his being used to Hills, is come into the Moor-Lands to Reward us here in England, for doing him more Right than his Country will afford him. He hath by your means mended his First Edition: To transplant and make him ours, is not only a Valuable Acquisition to us, but a Just Censure of the Critical Impertinence of those French Scribblers who have taken pains to make little Cavils and Exceptions, to lessen the Reputation of this great Man, whom Nature hath made too big to Confine himself to the Exactness of a Studied Style. He let his Mind have its full Flight, and showeth by a generous kind of Negligence that he did not Write for Praise, but to give to the World a true Picture of himself and of Mankind. He scorned affected Periods, or to please the mistaken Reader with an empty Chime of Words. He hath no Affectation to set himself out, and dependeth wholly upon the Natural Force of what is his own, and the Excellent Application of what he borroweth.  
You see, Sir, I have Kindness enough for Monsieur de Montaigne to be your Rival, but no Body can now pretend to be in equal Competition with you: I do willingly yield, which is no small matter for a Man to do to a more prosperous Lover; and if you will repay this piece of Justice with another, pray believe, that he who can Translate such an Author without doing him wrong, must not only make me Glad but Proud of being his  
Very humble Servant, Hallifax.   

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

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

The Contents of the Chapters of the first Book.  

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

A VINDICATION OF Montagne's Essays.  
THe Essays of Michael de Montagne are justly ranked amongst Miscellaneous Books: for they are on various subjects, without order and connexion; and the very body of the discourses has still a greater variety. This sort of confusion does not however hinder people of all qualities to extol these Essays above all the Books that ever they read, and they make them their chief study. They think that other Miscellanies of ancient and modern Books are nothing but an unnecessary heap of quotations, whereas we find in this authorities to the purpose, intermixed with the Authors own thoughts; which being bold and extraordinary, are very effectual to cure men of their Weakness and Vanity, and induce them to seek Virtue and Felicity by lawful means. But because every body is not of this opinion, we must take notice here of what is said against, and in favour of these Essays, to know what we should believe of 'em; and this is the more necessary, because one meets with frequent opportunities to talk of this Author, his Book being almost in the hands of all people.  
The enemies of Montagne tell us, that his Book is so far from inspiring his Readers with the love of Virtue, that on the contrary, some of his discourses being stuffed with free and licentious words, they teach them some Vices of which they were ignorant, or else are the occasion that they take a pleasure in speaking thereof, and at last induce them to fall into the same. That his Discourses upon several effects of Nature are rather fit to divert their thoughts from true Religion, than to convince them of the truth of it, and are altogether unbecoming a Christian Philosopher. That notwithstanding his Propositions and Assertions are for the most part weak and false, yet they are very dangerous for several persons, who either want Learning, or have too great a bias for Libertinism. That besides an indifferent knowledge of practical Morals and History, which Montagne had acquired in reading Seneca and Plutarch, having conversed with few other Books, as he owns himself, he had hardly a tincture of other Sciences and Arts, even not of the Theory of Moral Philosophy. That he was as ignorant in other Parts of Philosophy, as Physic, Metaphysic and Logic; which does sufficiently appear by his wrong inferences on several things. That he understood very little what we call Humanity, or Bell's Lettreses, as one may see by his unpolite stile, and the confusion of his discourses, which show him a very ill Grammarian, and a bad Rhetorician; and as he talks as positively and boldly as the most learned men, Scaliger was used to style him a bold Ignorant. These angry Gentlemen do likewise pretend, that what is most admired in Montagne is stole from some ancient Authors, and that if those quotations and the little stories he tells us about his Temper and Inclinations were taken out of his Book, the rest would be very little or nothing at all.  
This is the substance of the most material objections made against Montagne; not to mention here several Authors, who have purposely written against his opinions, as Mr de Silhon in his Book of the Immortality of the Soul, wherein he confutes what Montagne has alleged to prove that Brutes are capable of thinking. Chanet in his Treatise of the operations of the Understanding, quotes Montagne's Essays, as a work wherein Judgement had no share, Because, says he, every judicious man loves order, and there is nothing but confusion in that whole Book.  
Having thus impartially related what is urged against Montagne, we proceed now to mention what is said in his vindication. And we might here, in the first place, make use of the long Preface Mademoiselle de Gournay has prefixed to the French Folio Edition of his Essays, 1652, wherein she does not only give a full answer to all the objections made, or that can be made against Montagne, but also talks of him as of a man whose works have revived Truth in his Age, and which therefore she calls the quintessence of Philosophy, the Hellebore of Man's Folly, the Setter at Liberty of Understanding, and the judicial Throne of Reason. But we do not think fit to insist upon her Evidence, for notwithstanding the solid arguments her opinion is grounded upon, she may be suspected to be blindfolded with the passionate Love she had for her excellent Father: and besides, we have so many great men to produce in favour of Montagne, that we may without any prejudice to his Cause, wave the evidence of Mademoiselle de Gournay. These will tell you, that if he has handled any matters with an uncommon freedom, this is an effect of his generous Temper, which was free from any base or servile compliance; and as to his Love for Virtue, and his Religion, they appeal to his very Book itself, whereby that truth will appear, if the passages alleged to prove the contrary are examined without partiality, and not by themselves, but according to the connexion they have with what precedes or follows.  
Stephen Pasquier, that sincere Writer, deals more fairly with Montagne than Silhon, Balzac, or any other of his opposers, for he does not conceal his faults, nor pass by what may be said to attenuate or excuse them. Montagne, says he in one of his Letters, has several Chapters, whereof the Body is no ways answerable to the Head, witness these following, The History of Spurina; of the Resemblance of Children to their Parents, of the Verses of Virgil, of Coaches, of Lame people, of Vanity, and Physiognomy. These are incoherent things, wherein the Author runs from one subject to another, without any order or connexion. But after all, we must take of Montagne what is good, and not look upon his Titles, but into his Discourses, for possibly he designed to laugh at himself, others, and humane capacity, slighting thus the Rules and servile Laws of Authors.  
I shall add on this point, that notwithstanding several of his discourses do contain quite different things from what is promised in the Titles, as Pasquier has observed it, yet it does not always happen so; and when he has done it, methinks it is rather through affectation than inadvertency, to show that he did not intent to make a regular Work. This does likewise appear, by the odd, or rather fantastical connexion of his discourses, wherein from one matter he makes long digressions upon several others. No doubt but he thought that one might take the same Liberty in his Meditations, as is assumed in common Conversations, in which, though there be but two or three Interlocutors, 'tis observed that there is such a variety in their discourses, that if they were set down in writing, it would appear that by digressions they are run away from their first subject, and that the last part of their conversation is very little answerable to the first. This I verily believe was his true intention, that he might present the World with a free and original Work; for Chanced nor any other of his Adversaries will not be able to convince the World, that this proceeded from want of Judgement in a man of such parts as they are obliged to own in Montagne.  
He designed also sometimes to conceal his design in his Titles; as for instance, in his third Book, when having spent almost a whole Chapter against Physicians, it is most likely that his intention was to conceal it by intitling the same, of the Resemblance of Children to their Parents. For this gives him an opportunity to tell us that he was afflicted with the Gravel as his Father was, and to discourse of the Cure of several distempers, and at the same time of the uncertainty of Physic, or rather of the ignorance of Physicians; from whence I conclude, that in this whole Chapter, and several others, there is rather a refin'd Art, than Ignorance. It has been also objected against him, that he was so much in love with himself, that he talks of no body else in his Writings, as if he intended to propose himself as a necessary Pattern to the rest of Mankind, though what he says of himself is for the most part odd and fantastical. To this I answer, that any man may be an example to others, either for doing Good, or eschewing evil; and that Montagne does not pretend that what he says of himself should be taken for any other thing than really it is, having a sufficient knowledge of all humane frailties, and of his own in particular.  
'Tis somewhat surprising that Montagne should be blamed for quoting ancient Authors, when this quotations are made a propos, that is, for confirming or illustrating what he says, seeing Plutarch and several other excellent Authors have taken the same liberty; and if it be objected, that the quotations in Plutarch are taken from Greek Authors, and consequently are in the same Language as his, whereas Montagne has stuffed his French Book with Greek, Latin and Italian Verses; I answer that this is trifling, for if Montagne found nothing in his own Language worthy of being cited, or else if he thought that Ancient or Foreign Writers had better treated the matter he speaks of, Pray by what Law, is he forbidden to make use of their Authority? I own, that in some places, he has translated some passages of Ancient Authors into French, and has so dexterously incorporated them into his Work, that he has in some manner made them his own, but where is the great Crime in this, especially seeing he has a World of thoughts of his own, which are more sublime and excellent, than what he has alleged from others?  
Balsac, in his XIX Entretien, reflects upon his Language, though at the same time he excuses it. He lived, says he, in the Reign of the Family of Valois, and was a Gascon by Birth, and therefore it is impossible, but his Language must have something of the Vice common to his Age and Country. However, we must own, that his Soul was eloquent, and that he expressed his thoughts in bold masculine expressions, and that his Style has some Beauties, above what we could have expected from his Age. I'll say no more on this ' Head, and I know that it would be a sort of miracle, that a Person could politely speak French in the Barbary of Quercy and Perigord. Should a Man, beset with bad examples, and deprived of good ones, have courage and strength enough to defend himself alone against a whole Nation? against his own Wife, Relations and Friends, who are as many enemies to the purity of the French Tongue? The Court was likewise as corrupted as the Country, so that it was then lawful to fail, there being then not settled rules for our language; and those faults, which are more ancient than the Laws themselves, are doubtless Innocent. I conclude, says he in another place, that I have a great veneration for him, and that in my opinion he is comparable to those Ancients whom we call Maximos Ingenio, Arte rudes, etc.  
What Balzac says in relation to the Court of France in the days of Montagne is true enough, and very much to the purpose; but observe here the vanity and malice of that Hypercritick, who must reflect upon Montagne's Country, as if it were impossible that any body born in Perigord or Quercy should write French as politely as he who was not born within a days journey from Montagne. I know Balzac has written more politely than Montagne, and that the French Tongue is much indebted to him, but he whose excellency was chief in the connexion of words, must not for all that pretend to set up for a Judge of the thoughts of Montagne, as he has rashly ventured upon in his 18th and 19th Entretien.  
'Tis true, Montagne has some provincial expressions, but they are few in number; and it is to be observed, that several words of his which were at first excepted against, have been since adopted by the best Writers, this being the privilege of great Authors to introduce new words. The French word Enjove (Merry) has not been always in use, though it is now in the mouth of all the Learned and Polite people, and Montagne was the first Author that I know of who made use of it; and so they are obliged to him for this word, which does not only signify a merry man, but likewise expresses the very effects of mirth in his face, and chief upon his cheek, (joves).  
Those who tell us that Scaliger was used to call him a bold Ignorant, do certainly a greater Injury to Scaliger than to Montagne, for the reputation of that great man will never so far bias mankind as to make them believe that the Author of a Book wherein there is so much Learning should be an Ignorant Fellow. Scaliger was a better Judge, and as this is not to be found in any one of his Works, I think one may venture to say, that this Calumny was contrived by some of his Envious Enemies, who having not strength enough to encounter him, made use of this artifice, to run down his merit with that great name.  
Monsieur de Plassac, a great admirer of Montagne, corrected his Chapter of the Vanity of Words into Modern French, but as he owns it himself, it was no more Montagne's, whose similes and proverbial expressions, have a greater strength, than the nice Politeness of the Modern French Language, and besides Montagne's discourse is every where full of sentences and solid Reason, which do not always admit that smooth but empty way of writing, so much in vogue in France.  
I do not however design to defend Montagne in every thing; far from it, I blame his freedom in several places, and I cannot abide, that after having discoursed of the exemplary Life of a Holy Man, he should immediately talk as he does of Cuckoldom and Privy Parts, and other things of this nature, which though perhaps tolerable in another place, cannot be suffered in this; and I wish he had left out these things, that Ladies might not be put to the blush, when his Essays are found in their Libraries, and that they might improve themselves by reading this excellent Book, without putting their modesty to any torment, as they must needs do, when they come to these places.  
As for the rest, there is hardly any humane Book extant, so fit as this to teach Men what they are, and lead them insensibly to a reasonable observation of the most secret Springs of their Actions; and therefore it ought to be the manuale of all Gentlemen, his uncommon way of teaching, winning People to the practice of Virtue, as much as other Books fright them away from it, by the dogmatical and imperious way which they assume.  
Thus we have answered all the material objections made against Montagne; for I think the other trifles, which are objected against him, do not deserve to be taken notice of, and I wonder that the Author of the Search after Truth should spend his time upon them in a manner so unbecoming his Character. He tells us, after Balzac and some others, that Montagne's Vanity and Pride, are not suitable to an Author and Philosopher, that it was ridiculous and useless to keep a Page, having hardly 6000 Livres a year, and more ridiculous still to have so often mentioned it in his Writings: but I may answer, that it was very common in his time, for Gentlemen of noble extraction to keep a Page, to show their quality, though their Estate could hardly afford them to keep a Footman, and that the 6000 Livres a year, were then more than 20000 now adays. It was likewise very much uncoming the gravity of our famous Searcher after Truth, to rail at Montagne because he does not mention in his Essays, that he kept a Clerk, when he was Councillor in the Parliament of Bourdeaux, for Montagne having exercised that noble employment but for a short time, in his youth he had no occasion to mention it, and who shall believe, that he has concealed it out of Vanity, he who, in the opinion of Malbranche himself, talks of his imperfections and vices, with too great a freedom? It is likewise very ungenerous and ungentleman like to take no●ice, that he did not very well succeed in his Mayoralty of Bourdeaux; The times he lived in were very troublesome, and supposing he committed some Error, which they say without any Proof, what is that to the merit of his Book? Balzac introduces a Gentleman, speaking thus to an admirer of Montagne. You may praise your Author if you will more than our Cicero, but I cannot fancy that a man, who governed all the World, was not at least equal to a Person, who did not know how to govern Bourdeaux. This may very well pass for a jest; but is it a rational way for confuting an Author, to have recourse unto personal Reflections, or some incidents relating to his private Person or Quality, This is so mean, that I cannot fancy Balzac could be guilty of it, and I wholly impute it to those, who have published after his Death, some lose discourses on several Subjects, which they have entitled his Entretiens.  
Notwithstanding these objections, Montagne always had, and is like to have Admirers, as long as Sense and Reason have any credit in the World. Justus Lipsius calls him the French Thales, and Mezeray the Christian Seneca, and the incomparable Thuanus has made an Eulogy of him, which being very short, I shall transcribe it here.  
Michael de Montagne Chevalier, was born in Perigord, in a Castle, which had the name of his Family. He was made Councillor in the Parliament of Bourdeaux, with Stephen de la Boetie, with whom he contracted so great a Friendship, that that dear Friend was even after his Death the object of his respect and veneration. Montagne was extraordinary Free and Sincere, as Posterity will see by his Essays, for so he has entitled that Immortal Monument of his Genius.  
While he was at Venice, he was elected Mayor of Bourdeaux, which place was only bestowed upon persons of the first quality, and even the Governors of the Province thought it was an honour for them. The Marshal de Matignon, who commanded the King's Forces in that Province, during the troubles of the State, had such an esteem for him, that he communicated unto him the most important affairs, and admitted him into his Council. As I had a correspondence with him while I was in his Country, and since at Court, the conformity of our Studies and Inclinations united us most intimately. He died at Montagne in the 60th year of his Age.  
This testimony of Thuanus is sufficient to justify the memory of our Author, for no body will believe that a man of that integrity, would have been so great a Friend, with so vicious a man as Malbranche has represented Montagne. I shall therefore conclude this discourse with a very remarkable circumstance mentioned by Thuanus in his own Life, lib. 3. which show that Montagne was beloved by the greatest Princes in his time and honoured with their confidence. While the States of the Kingdom, says he, were sitting at Blois, Montagne and I were discoursing of the division between the King of Navarre and the Duke of Guise, whereupon he told me, that he knew the most secret thoughts of those Princes, as having been employed to compose their differences, and that he was persuaded, that neither of 'em was of the Religion he professed. That the King of Navarr would have willingly embraced the Religion of his Predecessors, if he had not feared that his Party had abandoned him, and that the Duke of Guise would have declared himself for the confession of Augsburg, which the Cardinal of Lorraine his Uncle had inspired him with, if he could have done it, without any prejudice to his Interests.  
I thought this circumstance was not unworthy of being placed here; but I must beg the Readers pardon for having been so long, which must be attributed to the respect I have for the Memory of that excellent author▪ I designed to show the reason why Montagne meets with a more favourable entertainment in England than in his Native Country, but having been already too long, I shall content myself to observe that an Author who talks freely of every thing, is not suitable to the temper of a servile Nation, who has lost all sense of Liberty.  
Monsieur La Bruyere in his celebrated Book of the Characters or Manners of the Age, gives another reason why some people condemn Montagne. Two Writers, says he, (meaning Lafoy moth Le Vayer and Malbranche) have condemned Montagne: I know that Author may be justly blamed in some things, but neither of 'em will allow him to have any thing valuable. One of 'em thinks too little to taste such an Author, who thinks a great deal; and the other thinks too subtilely to be pleased with what is natural. This, I believe, is the general Character of Montagne's enemies.   
ESSAYS OF Michael Seigneur de Montaigne. The First BOOK.  

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

CHAP. II.  
Of Sorrow.  
NO Man living is more free from this Passion than I, who neither like it in myself, nor admire it in others, and yet generally the World, (I know not why) is pleased to grace it with a particular Esteem, endeavouring to make us believe, That Wisdom, Virtue and Conscience shroud themselves under this grave and affected Appearance. Foolish and sordid Disguise! The Italians however under the Denomination of Un Tristo, decipher a clandestine Nature, a dangerous and ill-natured Man: And with good reason, it being a Quality always hurtful, always idle and vain, and as cowardly, mean, and base, by the Stoics expressly, and particularly forbidden their Sages: But the Story, nevertheless, says, that Psammenitus, King of Egypt, being defeated and taken Prisoner by Cambyses King of Persia, seeing his own Daughter pass by him in a wretched Habit, with a Bucket to draw Water, though his Friends about him were so concerned as to break out into Tears and Lamentations at the miserable sight; yet he himself remained unmoved, without uttering a Word of Discontent, with his Eyes fixed upon the Ground: and seeing moreover his Son immediately after led to Execution, still maintained the same Gravity and Indifference; till spying at last one of his Domestics dragged away amongst the Captives, he could then hold no longer, but fell to tearing his Hair, and beating his Breast, with all the other Extravagancies of a wild and desperate Sorrow. A Story that may very fitly be coupled with another of the same kind, of a late Prince of our own Nation, who being at Trent, and having News there brought him of the Death of his Elder Brother, but a Brother on whom depended the whole Support and Honour of his House, and soon after of that of a younger Brother, the second Hope of his Family, and having withstood these two Assaults with an exemplary Resolution, one of his Servants happening a few days after to die, he suffered his Constancy to be overcome by his last Accident; and parting with his Courage, so abandoned himself to Sorrow and Mourning, that some from thence were forward to conclude, that he was only touched to the Quick by this last Stroke of Fortune; but, in truth, it was, that being before brim full of Grief, the least Addition overflowed the Bounds of all Patience. Which might also be said of the former Example, did not the Story proceed to tell us, That Cambyses ask Psammenitus, Why, not being moved at the Calamity of his Son and Daughter, he should with so great Impatience bear the Misfortune of his Friend? It is (answered he) because this last affliction was only to be manifested by Tears, the two first exceeding all manner of Expression. And peradventure something like this might be working in the Fancy of the ancient Painter who being in the Sacrifice of Iphigenia to represent the Sorrow of the Assistants proportionably to the several Degrees of Interest every one had in the Death of this fair innocent Virgin; and having in the other Figures laid out the utmost Power of his Art, when he came to that of her Father, he drew him with a veil over his Face, meaning thereby, that no kind of Countenance was capable of expressing such a degree of Sorrow. Which is also the reason why the Poets feign the miserable Mother Niobe, having first lost seven Sons, and successively as many Daughters, to be at last transformed into a Rock, 
Ovid. Met. lib. 6.  Diriguisse malis, 
— Whom Grief alone,  
Had Power to stiffen into Stone.  Thereby to express, that melancholic, dumb, and deaf Stupidity, which benumbs all our Faculties when oppressed with Accidents greater than we are able to bear; and indeed the Violence and Impression of an excessive Grief, must of necessity astonish the Soul, and wholly deprive her of her ordinary Functions: As it happens to every one of us, who upon any sudden Alarm of very ill News, find ourselves surprised, stupefied, and in a manner deprived of all Power of Motion, till the Soul beginning to vent itself in sighs and Tears, seems a little to free and disengage itself from the sudden Oppression, and to have obtained some room to work itself out at greater liberty.  
Aeneid. l. 11.  Et via vix tandem voci laxata dolore est. 
Yet scarce at last by struggling Grief, a Gate  
Unbolted is for Sighs to sally at.  
In the War that Ferdinand made upon the Widow of King John of Hungary about Buda, a Man at Arms was particularly taken notice of by every one for his singular gallant Behaviour in a certain Encounter; unknown, highly commended, and as much lamented, being left Dead upon the Place: But by none so much as by Raisciac a Germane Lord, who was infinitely unamoured of so unparallelled a Virtue. When the Body being brought off, and the Count with the common Curiosity coming to view it, the Arms were no sooner taken off, but he immediately knew him to be his own Son. A thing that added a second Blow to the Compassion of all the Beholders; only he, without uttering a Word, or turning away his Eyes from the woeful Object, stood fixtly contemplating the Body of his Son, till the Vehemency of Sorrow having overcome his Vital Spirits made him sink down stone dead to the Ground.  
Petrarea, Sonetto 158.  Chi puo dir com egli arde è in picciol fuoco? — What Tongue is able to proclaim 
How his Soul melted in the gentle Flame? say the Inamorato's when they would represent an insupportable Passion.  

Cat. Epig. 52.  misero quod omnes  
Eripit sensus mihi. Nam simul te,  
Lesbian, aspexi, nihil est super me  
Quod loquar amen,  
Lingua sed torpet tenuis, sub artus  
Flamma dimanat, sonitu suopte  
Tinniunt aures, gemina teguntur  
Lumina nocte.  
— all conquering Lesbian, thine eyes  
Have ravished from me all my Faculties:  
At the first Glance of their victorious Ray  
I was so struck I knew not what to say;  
Nor had a Tongue to speak; a subtle Flame  
Crept through my veins; my tingling ears became  
Deaf without noise, and my poor eyes I found  
With a black Veil of double darkness bound.  
Neither is it in the height and greatest Fury of the Fit, that we are in a condition to pour out our Complaints, or to sally into Courtship, the Soul being at that time overburdened, and labouring with profound Thoughts: and the Body dejected and languishing with Desire; and thence it is, that sometimes proceed those accidental Impotencies that so unseasonably surprise the willing Lover, and that Frigidity which by the force of an Immoderate Ardour, so unhappily seizes him even in the very lap of Fruition: For all Passions that suffer themselves to be relished and digested, are but moderate.  
Seneca Hippol. Act. 2. Scen. 3.  Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent. 
His grief's but easy, who his grief can tell,  
But piercing Sorrow has no Article.  
A surprise of unexpected Joys does likewise often produce the same effect.  

Virg. Aeneid.  Ut me conspexit venientem, & Troia circum  
Arma amens vidit, magnis exterrita monstris,  
Diriguit visu in medio, calor ossa reliquit,  
Labitur, & longo vix tandem tempore fatur.  
Soon as she saw me coming, and beheld  
The Trojan Ensigns waving in the Field,  
O'er-joyed, and ravished at th'unlooked for sight,  
She turned a Statue, lost all feeling quite;  
Life's gentle Heat did her stiff Limbs forsake,  
She swooned, and scarce after long swooning spoke.  
To these we have the Examples of the Roman Lady, who died for Joy to see her Son safe returned from the Defeat of Cannae; and of Sophocles, and Dionysius the Tyrant, who died of Joy; and of Talva, who died in Corsica, reading News of the Honours the Roman Senate had decreed in his Favour. We have moreover one, in the time of Pope Leo the tenth, who upon News of the taking of Milan, a thing he had so ardently and passionately desired, was rapt with so sudden an excess of Joy, that he immediately fell into a Fever and died. And for a more authentic Testimony of the imbecility of Humane Nature, it is recorded by the Ancients, that Diodorus the Logician died upon the Place, out of an extreme Passion of Shame, for not having been able in his own School, and in the presence of a great Auditory, to disengage himself from a nice Argument that was propounded to him. I for my part am very little subject to these violent Passions; I am naturally of a stubborn apprehension, which also by discourse, I every day harden and fortify more and more.   

CHAP. III.  
That our Affections carry themselves beyond us.  
SUch as accuse Mankind of the folly of gaping and panting after future things, and advise us to make our Benefits of those which are present, and to set up our rest upon them, as having too short a reach to lay hold upon that which is to come, and it being more impossible for us, than to retreive what is past; have hit upon the most universal of Humane Errors, if that may be called an Error to which Nature itself has disposed us, who in order to the subsistence, and continuation of her own Work, has, amongst several others, prepossessed us with this deceiving Imagination, as being more jealous of our Action, than afraid of our Knowledge. For we are never present with, but always beyond ourselves. Fear, Desire and Hope, are still pushing us on towards the future, depriving us in the mean time of the Sense and Consideration of that, which is to amuse us, with the thought of what shall be, even when we shall be no more.  
Seneca, Epist. 98.  Calamitosus est Animus futuri anxius. 
A Mind that anxious is of things to come,  
Is still abroad, finding no rest at home.  
We find this great Precept often repeated in Plato, Do thine own Work, and know thyself. Of which two Parts, both the one and the other generally comprehend our whole Duty, and consequently do each of them complicate and involve the other; for, who will do his own Work aright, will find that his first Lesson is to know himself: And who rightly understands himself, will never mistake another Man's Work for his own, but will love and improve himself above all other things, will refuse superfluous Employments, and reject all unprofitable Thoughts and Propositions. And, as folly on the one side, though it should enjoy all it can possibly desire, would notwithstanding never be content; so on the other, Wisdom does ever acquiesce with the present, and is never dissatisfied with its immediate Condition: And that is the reason why Epicurus dispenses his Sages from all Foresight and Care of the future. Amongst those Laws that relate to the Dead, I look upon that to be the best, by which the Actions of Princes are to be examined and sifted after their Decease. They are equal at least, while Living, if not above the Laws, and therefore what Justice could not inflict upon their Persons, 'tis but reason should be executed upon their Reputations, and the Estates of their Successors, Things that we often value above Life itself: A Custom of singular advantage to those Countries where it is in use, and by all good Princes as much to be desired, who have reason to take it ill, that the Memories of the Tyrannical and Wicked should be used with the same Reverence and Respect with theirs. We own, 'tis true, Subjection and Obedience to all our Kings, whether good or bad, alike, for that has respect unto their Office; but as to Affection and Esteem, those are only due to their Virtue. Let it be granted, that by the Rule of Government we are with Patience to endure unworthy Princes, to conceal their Vices, and to assist them in their indifferent Actions, whilst their Authority stands in need of our Support: Yet, the Relation of Prince and Subject being once at an end, there is no reason we should deny the Publication of our real wrongs and sufferings to our own Liberty and common Justice, and to interdict good Subjects the Glory of having submissively and faithfully served a Prince, whose Imperfections were to them so perfectly known, were to deprive Posterity of so good an Example; and such as out of respect to some private Obligation, shall, against their own Knowledge and Conscience, espouse the Quarrel, and vindicate the Memory of a faulty Prince, do a particular Right at the Expense, and to the Prejudice of the Public Justice. Livy does very truly say, That the Language of Men bred up in Courts, is always sounding of vain Ostentation, and that their Testimony is rarely true, every one indifferently magnifying his own Master, and stretching his Commendation to the utmost extent of Virtue and Sovereign Grandeur: And 'tis not impossible but some may condemn the freedom of those two Soldiers, who so roundly answered Nero to his Face, the one being asked by him, Why he bore him ill Will? I loved thee, answered he, whilst thou wert worthy of it, but since thou art become a Parricide, an Incendiary, a Waterman, a Fiddler, a Player, and a Coachman, I hate thee as thou dost deserve: and the other, Why he should attempt to kill him? Because, said he, I could think of no other Remedy against thy perpetual Mischiefs. But the public and universal Testimonies that were given of him after his Death (and will be to all Posterity, both of him and all other wicked Princes like him) his Tyrannies and abominable deportment considered, who, of a sound Judgement, can reprove them? I am scandalised, I confess, that in so sacred a Government as that of the Lacedæmonians, there should be mixed so hypocritical a Ceremony at the Innterment of their Kings; 
Ceremony of the Lacedæmonians at the Innterment of their Kings.  where all their Confederates and Neighbours, and all sorts and degrees of Men and Women, as well as their Slaves, cut and slashed their Foreheads in Token of Sorrow, repeating in their Cries and Lamentations, That that King (let him have been as wicked as the Devil) was the best that ever they had; by this means attributing to his Quality the Praises that only belong to Merit, and that of Right is properly due to the most supreme Desert, though lodged in the lowest and most inferior Subject. Aristo●le (who will still have a hand in every thing) makes a Quaere upon the saying of Solon, Th●● none can be said to be happy until he be dead Whether then any one of those who have lived and died according to their Heart's Desire, if ●e have left an ill Repute behind him, and th● his Posterity be miserable, can be said to be happy? Whilst we have Life and Motion, we convey ourselves by Fancy and Preoccupation, whither and to what we please; but once o●● of Being, we have no more any manner of Communication with what is yet in Being's and it had therefore been better said of Sol●▪ That Man is never happy, because never so till after he is no more.  

Lucret. lib. 3. — Quisquam  
Vix radicitus è vita se tollit, & ejicit,  
Sed facit esse sui quiddam super inscius ipse,  
Nec removet satis à projecto corpore sese; &  
Vindicat.  
No dying Man can truss his Baggage so,  
But something of him he must leave below:  
Nor from his Carcase that doth prostrate lie  
Himself can clear, or far enough can fly.  
Bertrand de Glesquin, dying before the Castle of Rancon near unto Puy in Auvergne, the Besieged were afterwards, upon Surrender, enjoined to lay down the Keys of the Place upon the Corpse of the dead General. Bartolcmew d' Alviano, the Venetian General, happening to die in the Service of the Republic in Brascia; and his Corpse being to be carried through the Territory of Verona, an Enemy's Country, most of the Army were of Opinion to demand safe Conduct from the Veronese, supposing, that upon such an occasion it would not be denied: But Theodoro Trivulsio highly opposed the Motion, rather choosing to make his way by force of Arms, and to run the hazard of a Battle, saying it was by no means decent, and very unfit, that he who in his Life was never afraid of his Enemies should seem to apprehend them when he was dead. And in truth, in Affairs of almost the same Nature, by the Greek Laws, he who made Suit to an Enemy for a Body to give it Burial, did by that Act renounce his Victory, and had no more Right to erect a Trophy; and he to whom such Suit was made, was ever, whatever otherwise the Success had been, reputed Victor. By this means it was, that Nicias lost the Advantage he had visibly obtained over the Corinthians, and that Agesilaus, on the contrary, assured what he had before very doubtfully gained of the Boeotians. These Proceed might appear very odd, had it not been a general Practice in all Ages, not only to extend the Concern of our Persons beyond the Limits of Life, but moreover, to fancy that the Favour of Heaven does not only very often accompany us to the Grave, but has also, even after Life, a Concern for our Ashes: of which there are so many ancient Examples (waving those of our own Observation of later date) that it is not very necessary I should longer insist upon it. Edward King of England, and the first of that Name, having in the lo●● Wars betwixt him and Robert King of Scotland, had sufficient Experience of how grea● Importance his own immediate Presence wa● to the Success of his Affairs, having ever be●● victorious in whatever he undertook in 〈◊〉 own Person; when he came to die, bound 〈◊〉 Son in a Solemn Oath, that so soon as he should be dead, he should boil his Body 〈◊〉 the Flesh parted from the Bones, and reserve them to carry continually with him in his Army, so often as he should be obliged to go against the Scots; as if Destiny had inevitably grappled Victory even to those miserable Remains. Jean Zisca, the same who so often 〈◊〉 Vindication of Wicklisse's Heresies, infested 〈◊〉 Bohemian State, left order that they should flay him after his Death, and of his Skin 〈◊〉 make a Drum, to carry in the War against 〈◊〉 Enemies, fancying it would much contribute to the Continuation of the Successes he had always obtained in the War against them. I● like manner, certain of the Indians, in a Day of Battle with the Spaniards, carried with them the Bones of one of their Captains, i● consideration of the Victories they had for merly obtained under his Conduct. And other People of the same new World do yet carry about with them in their Wars the Relics of valiant Men who have died in Battle, to incite their Courage, and advance their Fortune: of which Examples, the first reserve nothing for the Tomb, but the Reputation they have acquired by their former Achievements; but these proceed yet further, and attribute a certain Power of Operation. The last Act of Captain Bayard is of a much better Composition; who, finding himself wounded to Death with a Harquebus Shot, and being by his Friends importuned to retire out of the Fight, made Answer, That he would not begin at the last Gasp to turn his Back to the Enemy; and accordingly still fought on, till feeling himself too faint, and no longer able to sit his Horse, he commanded his Steward to set him down against the Root of a Tree, but so that he might die with his Face towards the Enemy which he also did. I must yet add another Example equally remarkable, for the present Consideration, with any of the former. The Emperor Maximilian, great Grandfather to Philip the Second, King of Spain, was a Prince endowed throughout with great and extraordinary Qualities, and amongst the rest, with a singular Beauty of Person; but had withal, a Humour very contrary to that of other Princes, who for the dispatch of their most Important Affairs convert their Close-stool into a Chair of State, which was, that he would never permit any of his Bedchamber, in what familiar degree of Favour soever, 
Modesty of Maximilian the Emperor.  to see him in that Posture; and would steal aside to make Water as religiously as a Virgin, and was as shy to discover either to his Physician, or any other whatever, those Parts that we are accustomed to conceal: And I myself, who have so impudent a way of Talking, am nevertheless naturally so modest this way, that unless at the Importunity of Necessity, or Pleasure, I very rarely and unwillingly communicate, to the Sight of any, either those Parts or Actions that Custom order us to conceal, wherein I also suffer more Constraint than I conceive is very well becoming a Man, especially of my Profession: but he nourished this modest Humour to such a degree of superstition, as to give express Orders in his last Will, that they should put him on Drawn so soon as he should be dead; to which methinks he would have done well to have added, that he should have been hoodwinked too that put them on. The Charge that Cyrus left with his Children, 
Cyrus' Reverence to Religion. Xenoph●n.  that neither they nor any other should either see or touch his Body after the Soul was departed from it, I attribute to some superstitious Devotion of his; both his Historian, and Himself, amongst other great Qualities, having strewed the whole Course of their Lives with a singular Respect to Religion. I was by no means pleased with a Story was told me by a Man of very great Quality, of a Relation of mine, and one who had given a very good Account of himself both in Peace and War; that coming to die in a very old Age, of an excessive Pain of the Stone, he spent the last Hours of his Life in an extraordinary Solicitude about ordering the Ceremony of his Funeral, pressing all the Men of Condition who came to see him, to engage their Word to attend him to his Grave, importuning this very Prince, who came to visit him at his last Gasp, with a most earnest Supplication, that he would order his Family to be assisting there, and withal representing before him several Reasons and Examples to prove that it was a Respect due to a Man of his Condition; and seemed to die content, having obtained this Promise, and appointed the Method and Order of his Funeral Parade. I have seldom heard of so long lived a Vanity. Another, though contrary Solitude (of which also I do not want domestic Example,) seems to be somewhat akin to this; That a Man shall cudgel his Brains at the last Moment's of his Life, to contrive his Obsequies to so particular and unusual a Parsimony, as to conclude it in the sordid expense of one single Servant with a Candle and Lantern, and yet I see this Humour commended, and the Appointment of Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, who forbade his Heirs to bestow upon his Hearse even the common Ceremonies in use upon such Occasions. Is it not Temperance and Frugality to avoid the Expense and Pleasure of which the use and knowledge is imperceptible to us? See here an easy and cheap Reformation. If Instruction were at all necessary in this Case, I should be of Opinion, that in this, as in all other Actions of Life, the Ceremony and Expense should be regulated by the Ability of the Person deceased; and the Philosopher Lycon prudently ordered his Executors to dispose of his Body where they should think most fit, and as to his Funerals, to order them neither too superfluous, nor too mean. For my part, I should wholly refer the ordering of this Ceremony to Custom, and shall, when the time comes, accordingly leave it to their Discretion, to whose Lot▪ it shall fall to do me that last Office. Totus hic locus est contemnendus in nobis, 
Cicero Tusc. l. 1.  non negligendus in nostris; The Place of our Sepulture is wholly to be contemned by us, but not to be neglected by our Friends; but it was a holy Saying of a Saint, 
August. de civet. Dei.  Curatio funeris, conditio Sepulturae, pompa Exequiarum, magis sunt vivorum solatia, quàm subsidia mortuorum; The Care of Funerals, the Place of Sepulture, and the Pomp of Exequys, are rather Consolations to the Living than any Benefit to the Dead. Which made Socrates answer Criton, who at the Hour of his Death asked him, how he would be buried? How you will, said he. If I could concern myself further than the Present about this Affair, I should be most tempted, as the greatest Satisfaction of this kind, to imitate those who in their Life-time entertain themselves with the Ceremony of their own Obsequies before hand, and are pleased with viewing their own Monument, and beholding their own dead Countenance in Marble. Happy are they who can gratify their Senses by insensibility, and live by their Death! I am ready to conceive an implacable. Hatred against all Democracy and Popular Government, (though I cannot but think it the most natural and equitable of all others) so oft as I call to mind the inhuman Injustice of the People of Athens, who, without Remission, or once vouchsafing to hear what they had to say for themselves, put to death their brave Captains, newly returned triumphant from a Naval Victory they had obtained over the Lacedæmonians near the Arginusian Isles; the most bloody and obstinate Engagement that ever the Greeks fought at Sea; for no other Reason, but that they rather followed their Blow and pursued the Advantages prescribed them by the Rule of War, than that they would stay to gather up and bury their Dead: an Execution that is yet rendered more odious by the Behaviour of Diomedon, who being one of the condemned, and a Man of most eminent, both politic and military Virtue, after having heard their Sentence, advancing to speak, no Audience till then having been allowed, instead of laying before them his own Innocency, or the Impiety of so cruel an Arrest, only expressed a Solicitude for his Judge's Preservation, beseeching the Gods to convert this Sentence to their own Good, and praying that for neglecting to pay those Vows which he and his Companions had done (which he also acquainted them with) in Acknowledgement of so glorious a Success, they might not pull down the Indignation of the Gods upon them; and so without more Words went courageously to his Death. But Fortune a few Years after punishing them in their kind, made them see the Error of their Cruelty: for Chabrias, Captain-General of their Naval Forces, having got the better of polis, Admiral of Sparta, about the Isle of Naxos, totally lost the Fruits of his Success, and Content with his Victory, of very great Importance to their Affairs, not to incur the danger of this Example, and lose a few Bodies of his dead Friends that were floating in the Sea, gave opportunity to a world of living Enemies to sail away in Safety, who afterwards made them pay dear for this unseasonable Superstition.  

Seneca Tr. Cher. 2.  Quaeris quo jaceas post obitum loco?  
Quo non natae jacent.  
Dost ask where thou shalt lie when dead?  
With those that never Being had.  
This other restores the sense of Repose to a Body without a Soul?  
Cicero Tusc. l. 1.  Neque sepulcrum, quo recipiat, habeat portum corporis: Ubi, remissa humana vita, Corpus requiescat à malis. 
Nor with a Tomb as with a Haven blest,  
Where, after Life, the Corpse in Peace may rest.  
As nature demonstrates to us, that several dead things retain yet an occult Sympathy and relation to Life; Wine changes its flavour and complexion in Cellars, according to the changes and seasons of the Vine from whence it came; and the Flesh of Venison altars its condition and taste in the powd'ring-tub, according to the seasons of the living Flesh of its kind, as it is observed by the Curious.   

CHAP. IU.  
That the Soul discharges her Passions upon false Object, where the true are wanting.  
A Gentleman of my Country, who was very often tormented with the Gout, being importuned by his Physicians totally to reclaim his Appetite from all manner of salt Meats, was wont presently to reply, that he must needs have something to quarrel with in the extremity of his Fits, and that he fansyed, that railing at, and cursing one while the Bolognia Sausages, and another the dried Tongues and the hams, was some mitigation to his pain. And in good earnest, as the Arm when it is advanced to strike, if it fail of meeting with that upon which is was designed to discharge the blow, and spends itself in vain, does offend the Striker himself; and as also, that to make a pleasant Prospect the Sight should not be lost and dilated in a vast extent of empty Air, but have some Bounds to limit and circumscribe it at a reasonable distance: 
Ventus, ut amittit vires, nisi robore densae  
Occurant Sylvae, spatio diffusus inani.  
As Winds do lose their strength, unless withstood  
By some dark Grove of strong opposing wood.   
So it appears, that the Soul being transported and discomposed, turns its violence upon its self, if not supplied with something to oppose it, and therefore always requires an Enemy as an object on which to discharge its Fury and Resentment. Plutarch says very well of those who are delighted with little Dogs and Monkeys; that the amorous part which is in us, for want of a legitimate Object, rather than lie idle, does after that manner forge, and create one frivolous and false; as we see that the Soul in the exercise of its Passions, inclines rather to deceive itself, by creating a false and fantastical Subject, even contrary to its own Belief, than not to have something to work upon. And after this manner Brute Beasts direct their Fury to fall upon the Stone or Weapon that has hurt them, and with their Teeth even execute their Revenge upon themselves, for the Injury they have received from another.  

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

Plutarch.  Point ne se faut couroucer aux affairs,  
Il ne leur chaut de toutes nos choleres.  
We must not quarrel Heaven in our Affairs,  
That little for a mortal's Anger cares.   
But we can never enough decry nor sufficiently condemn the senseless and ridiculous Sallies of our unruly Passions.   

CHAP. V.  
Whether the Governor of a place besieged, ought himself to go out to parley.  
Lucius' Marcius, the Roman Legate in the War against Perseus' King of Macedon, to gain time wherein to reinforce his Army, set on foot some Overtures of Accommodation, with which the King being lulled asleep, concluded a Cessation for certain days; by this means giving his Enemy opportunity and leisure to repair his Army, which was afterward the Occasion of his own Ruin. The elder sort of Senators, notwithstanding mindful of their Forefathers Virtue, were by no means satisfied with this Proceeding; but on the contrary condemned it, as degenerating from their ancient Practice, which they said was by Valour, and not by Artifice, Surprises, and Night Encounters; neither by pretended Flight, Ambuscadoes, and deceitful Treaties, to overcome their enemies; never making War till having first denounced it, and very often assigned both the Hour and place of Battle. Out of this generous Principle it was that they delivered up to Pyrrhus his treacherous Physician, and to the Etrurians their disloyal Schoolmaster. And this was indeed a Procedure truly Roman, and nothing allied to the Grecian Subtlety, nor the P●nick Cunning, where it was reputed a Victory of less Glory to overcome by Force than Fraud. Deceit may serve for a need, but he only confesses himself overcome who knows he is neither subdued by Policy, nor Misadventure, but by dint of Valour, in a fair and manly War. And it very well appears by the Discourse of these good old Senators, that this fine Sentence was not yet received amongst them, 
Aeneid. l. 2. — Dolus an virtus quis in Host requiret? 
No Matter if by Valour, or Deceit,  
We overcome, so we the better get.   
The Achaians (says Polybius) adhorred all manner of double-dealing in War, not reputing it a Victory unless where the Courages of the Enemy were fairly subdued. Eam vir sanctus & sapiens sciet veram esse victoriam, quae salva fide, 
Tncit. in Agric.  & integra dignitate parabitur. An honest and a prudent Man will acknowledge that only to be a true Victory which he has obtained without Violation of his own Faith, or any Blemish upon his own Honour, says another.  

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

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

Aristo, Cant. 15.  Furio il vincer sempre maji laudabil cosa  
Vinca sio per fortuna, o per ingegno.  
Fame ever does the Victor's Praises ring,  
And Conquest ever was a glorious thing,  
Which way soever the Conqueror purchased it,  
Whether by valour, Fortune, or by Wit.  
say they: But the Philosopher Chrysippus was of another Opinion, wherein I also concur; for he was used to say, That those who Run a Race, aught to employ all the Force they have in what they are about, and to run as fast as they can; but that it is by no means fair in them to lay any hand upon their Adversary to stop him, nor to set a Leg before him to throw him down. And yet more generous was the Answer of that great Alexander to Polypercon who persuaded him to take the Advantage of the Night's Obscurity to fall upon Darius; By no means (said he) it is not for such a Man as I am to steal a Victory, 
Quint. Curt. 1. 4.  Malo me fortunae poeniteat, quam victoriae pudeat, I had rather repent me of my Fortune, than be ashamed of my Victory.  

Aeneid. l. 10.  Atque idem fugientem haud est dignatus Orodem  
Sternere, nec jacta coecum dare Cuspide vulnus:  
Obvius, adversoque occurrit, seque viro vir  
Contulit, haud furto melior, sed fortibus armis.  
His Heart disdained to strike Orodes dead,  
Or, unseen, basely wound him as he fled;  
But gaining first his Front, wheels round, and there  
Bravely opposed himself to his Career:  
And fight Man to Man, would let him see  
His Valour scorned both Odds and Policy.   

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

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

Aen●id. l. 8.  Sicut aquae tremulum labris ubi lumen ahenis  
Sole repercussum, aut radiantis imagine Lunae,  
Omnia pervolitat latè loca, jamque sub auras  
Erigitur, summique ferit laquearia tecti.  
Like as the quivering Reflection  
Of Fountain Waters, when the Morning Sun  
Darts on the Basin, or the Moon's pale Beam  
Gives Light and Colour to the Captive Stream,  
Whips with fantastic motion round the place,  
And Walls and Roof strikes with its trembling Rays.  
In which wild and irregular Agitation, there is no Folly, nor idle Fancy they do not light upon: 

Hor. de. Arte Poetica. — velut aegri somnia, vanae  
Finguntur species—  
Like Sick men's Dreams, that from a troubled Brain  
Phantasms create, ridiculous and vain.   
The Soul that has not established Limit to circumscribe it loses itself, as the Epigrammatist says,  
Martial. lib. 7. Epig. 72.  Quisquis ubique habitat, maxim nusquam habitat. He that lives every where, does no where live. 
When I lately retired myself to my own House, with a Resolution, as much as possibly I could, to avoid all manner of Concern in Affair, and to spends in privacy and repose the little remainder of time I have to Live: I fancied I could not more oblige my mind than to suffer it at full leisure to entertain and divert itself, which I also now hoped it might the better be entrusted to do, as being by Time and Observation become more settled and mature; but I find, 
Lucan. l. 4. — variam semper dant otia mentem. 
— Even in the most retired Estate  
Leasure itself does various Thoughts create.  that, quite contrary, it is like a Horse that has broke from his Rider, who voluntarily runs into a much more violent Career than any Horseman would put him to, and creates me so many Chimaeras and fantastic Monsters one upon another, without Order or Design, that, the better at leisure to contemplate their Strangeness and Absurdity, I have begun to commit them to Writing, hoping in time to make them ashamed of themselves.   

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

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

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

Lucan. l. 2. — cur hanc tibi, rector Olympi,  
Solicitis visum mortalibus addere curam,  
Noscant venturas ut dira per omnia clades?  
Sit subitum quodcunque paras, sit caeca futuri  
Mens hominum fati, liceat sperare timenti.  
Why, thou great Ruler of Olympus, why  
Hast thou to timorous Mortality  
Added this Care, that Men should be so wise  
To know, by Omens, future Miseries?  
Free us from this unnecessary care,  
Unlooked for send the Ills thou dost prepare;  
Let humane Minds to future things be blind,  
That Hope, amidst our Fears, some place may find.  (Ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit: Miserum est enim nihil proficientem angi: It is not indeed convenient to know what shall come to pass; for it is a miserable thing to be vexed and tormented to no purpose.) Yet are they of much less Authority now than heretofore. Which makes the Example of Francis Marquis of Saluzzo, so much more remarkable; who being Lieutenant to King Francis the First, in his Army beyond the Mountains, infinitely favoured and esteemed in our Court, and obliged to the King's Bounty for the Marquisate itself, which had been forfeited by his Brother; and as to the rest, having no manner of Provocation given him to do it, and even his own Affection opposing any such Disloyalty; suffered himself to be so terrified (as it was confidently reported) with the fine Prognostics that were spread abroad in favour of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, and to our Disadvantage, (especially in Italy, where these foolish Prophecies were so far believed, that great Sums of Money were laid, and others ventured out upon return of greater when they came to pass, so certain they made themselves of our Ruin) that having bewailed to those of his Acquaintance who were most intimate with him, the Mischiefs that he saw would inevitably fall upon the Crown of France, and the Friends he had in that Court, he unhandsomely revolted, and turned to the other side; but to his own Misfortune nevertheless, what Constellation soever governed at that time. But he carried himself in this Affair like a Man agitated with divers Passions; for having both Towns and Forces in his hands, the Enemy's Army under Antonio de Leva close by him, and we not at all suspecting his Design, it had been in his Power to have done more than he did; for he lost no Men by this Infidelity of his, nor any Town, but Fossan only, and that after a long Siege, and a brave Defence.  

Hor. l. 3. Od. 29.  Prudens futuri temporis exitum  
Caliginosa necte premit Deus:  
Ridetque si mortalis ultra  
Fas trepidat.  
Th' Eternal Mover has in Shades of Night  
Future Events concealed from humane sight,  
And laughs when he does see the timorous Ass  
Tremble at what shall never come to pass.  

Ib. Ode 29. — ille potens sui  
Laetusque deget, cui licet, in diem  
Dixisse, vixi: Cras vel atra  
Nube Polum pater occupato,  
Vel sole puro.  
He free and merrily may live, can say,  
As the day passes I have lived to day;  
And for to morrow little does take Care,  
Let the World's Ruler make it foul or fair.  

Id. l. 2. Ode 16.  Laetus in praesens animus, quod ultra est  
Oderit curare:  
A mind that's cheerful in its present State,  
To think of any thing beyond will hate.  
And those who take this Sentence in a contrary Sense, interpret it amiss. Ista sic reciprocantur, ut si Divinatio sit, Dii sint, 
Cic. de Divin. l. 2.  & si Dii sint, sit Divinatio. These things have that mutual Relation to one another, that if there be such a thing as Divination, there must be Deities; and if Deities, Divination. Much more wisely Pacuvius; 

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

CHAP. XII.  
Of Constancy.  
THE Law of Resolution and Constancy does not imply, that we ought not, as much as in us lies, to decline, and to secure ourselves from the Mischiefs and Inconveniences that threaten us; nor consequently, that we shall not fear lest they should surprise us: on the contrary, all decent and honest ways and means of securing ourselves from Harms, are not only permitted, but moreover commendable, and the Business of Constancy chief is, bravely to stand to, and stoutly to suffer those Inconveniences which are not otherwise possibly to be avoided. There is no motion of Body, nor any guard in the handling of Arms, how irregular or ungraceful soever, that we dislike or condemn, if they serve to deceive or to defend the Blow that is made against us; insomuch, that several very warlike Nations have made use of a retiring and flying way of Fight, as a thing of singular Advantage, and by so doing have made their Backs more dangerous than their Faces to their Enemies. Of which kind of Fight, the Turks yet retain something in their Practice of Arms to this day; and Socrates in Plato, laughs a Laches, who had defined Fortitude to be at standing firm in their Ranks against the Enemy: What (says he) would it then be a reputed Cowardice to overcome them by giving Ground? urging at the same time the Authority of Homer, who commends Aeneas for his Skill in running away. And whereas Laches, considering better on't, justifies his first Argument upon the Practice of the Scythians, and in general all Cavalry whatever. He again attacks him with the Example of the Lacedaemonian Foot, (a Nation of all other the most obstinate in maintaining their Ground) who in all the Battle of Platea, not being able to break into the Persian Phalanx, unbethought themselves to disperse and retire, that by the Enemies supposing they fled, they might break, and disunite that vast Body of Men in the Pursuit, and by that Stratagem obtained the Victory. As for the Scythians, 'tis said of them, that when Darius went his Expedition to subdue them, he sent, by an Herald, highly to reproach their King, That he always retired before him and declined a Battle; to which Indathyrsez (for that was his Name) returned Answer, That it was not for fear of him, or of any Man living, that he did so, but that it was the way of Marching in practice with his Nation, who had neither tilled Fields, Cities, nor Houses to defend, or to fear the Enemy should make any Advantage of: but that if he had such a Stomach to fight, let him but come to view their ancient place of Sepulture, and there he should have his Fill. Nevertheless as to what concerns Cannon Shot, when a Body of Men are drawn up in the Face of a Train of Artillery, as the Occasion of War does often require, 'tis unhandsome to quit their Post to avoid the Danger, and a foolish thing to boot, forasmuch as by reason of its Violence and Swiftness we account it inevitable, and many a one, by ducking, steping aside, and such other motions of Fear, has been sufficiently laughed at by his Companions And yet in the Expedition that the Emperor Charles the Fifth made into Prov●nce, the Marquis de Guast going to discover the City of Arles, and venturing to advance out of the Blind of a Windmill, under favour of which he had made his Approach, was perceived by the Signior de Bonneval and the Seneschal of Agenois, who were walking upon the Theatre Aux arenes; who having showed him to the Sieur de Villiers, 
A Theatre where public Shows of Riding, Fenceing, etc. were exhibited.  Commissary of the Artillery, he traversed a Culverin so admirable well, and levelled it so exactly right against him, that had not the Marquis, seeing Fire given to it, slipped aside, it was certainly concluded, the Shot had taken him full in the Body. And in like manner, some Years before, Lorenzo de Medici, Duke of Urbino, and Father to the Queen-Mother of France, laying Siege to Mondolpho, a Place in the Territories of the Vicariat in Italy, seeing the Cannoneer give Fire to a Piece that pointed directly against him, it was well for him that he ducked, for otherwise, the Shot, that only razed the top of his Head, had doubtless hit him full in the Breast. To say truth, I do not think that these Evasions are performed upon the account of Judgement; for how is any Man living able to Judge of high or low Aim on so sudden an Occasion? And it is much more easy to believe, that Fortune favoured their Apprehension, and that it might be a means at another time, as well to make them step into the danger, as to teach them to avoid it. For my own part I confess, I cannot forbear starting when the Rattle of a Harquebus thunders in my Ears on a sudden, and in a place where I am not to expect it, which I have also observed in others, brave● Fellows than I; neither do the Stoics pretend, that the Soul of their Philosopher should be proof against the first Visions and Fantasies that surprise him; but as a natural Subject, consent that he should tremble at the terrible noise of Thunder, or the sudden clatter of some falling Ruin, and be affrighted even to Paleness and Convulsion. And so in other Passions, provided a Man's Judgement remain sound and entire, and that the Site of his Reason s●ffer, no Concussion nor Alteration, and that he yields no consent to his Fright and Discomposure. To him who is not a Philosopher, a Fright is the same in the first part of it, but quite another thing in the second; for the Impression of Passions does not remain only superficially in him, but penetrates further, even to the very Seat of Reason and so, as to infect and to corrupt it. He Judges according to his Fear, and conforms his Behaviour to it. But in this Verse you may see the true State of the wise Stoic learnedly and plainly expressed: 
Virg. Aen. l. 2.  Mens immota manet, lacrymae volvuntur inanes. 
The Eye, perhaps, frail, fruitless showers reins,  
Whilst yet the Mind firm and unshook remains.   
The wise Peripatetic is not himself totally free from perturbations of Mind, but he moderates them by his Wisdom.   

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

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

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

CHAP. XVI.  
A Proceeding of some Ambassadors.  
I Observe in all my Travels this Custom, ever to learn something from the Information of those with home I confer (which is the best School of all other) and to put my Company upon those Subjects they are the best able to speak of: 
Basti all nochiero ragionar de venti,  
All bifolco de i Tori, & le sue Pyaghe  
Conti'l guerrier, conti'l Pastor gli armenti.  

Ariosto. Navita de ventis, de tauris narrat arator, Ememorat miles vulnera, pastor oves. Propert.  The Seamen best can reason of the Winds,  
Of Oxen none so well as labouring Hinds;  
The huffing Soldier best of Wounds and Knocks,  
And gentler Shepherds of their harmlss Flocks.  For it often falls out, that, on the contrary, every one will rather choose to be prating of another Man's Province than his own, thinking it so much new reputation acquired; witness the Jeer Archidamus put upon Periander, That he had quitted the Glory of being an excellent Physician to gain the Repute of a very bad Poet. And do but observe how large and ample. Caesar is to make us understand his Invention of building of Bridges, and contriving Engines of War, and how succinct and reserved in Comparison, where he speaks of the Offices of his Profession, his own Valour, and military Conduct. His Exploits sufficiently prove him a great Captain, and that he knew well enough, but he would be thought a good Engineer to boot; a quality something rare, and not much to be expected in him. The Elder Dionystus was a very great Captain, as it befitted his Fortune he should be; 〈◊〉 he took very great Pains to get a particular Reputation by Poetry, and yet he was never cut out for a Poet. A Gentleman of the long Robe being not long since brought to see a Study furnished with all sorts of Books, both of his own and all other Faculties, took no occasion at all to entertain himself with any of them, but fell very rudely and impertinently to descant upon a Barricado placed before the Study-door, a thing that a hundred Captains and common Soldiers see every day without taking any notice or offence.  Optat ephippia bos piger, optat arare caballus. 
The lazy Ox would Saddle have and Bitten,  
The Steed a Yoke, neither for either fit.  
By this course a Man shall never improve himself, nor arrive at any Perfection in any thing. He must therefore make it his Business, always to put the Architect, the Painter, the Statuary, as also every Mechanic Artisan, upon discourse of their own Capacities. And to this purpose, in reading Histories, which is every Body's Subject, I use to consider what kind of Men are the Authors; which, if Persons that profess nothing but mere Learning, I in and from them principally observe and learn the Style and Language; If Physicians, I upon that account the rather incline to credit what they report of the Temperature of the Air, of the Health and Complexions of Princes, of Wounds, and Diseases; if Lawyers, we are from them to take notice of the Controversies of Right and Title, the Establishment of Laws and Civil Government, and the like; if Divines, the Affairs of the Church, Ecclesiastical Censures, Marriages and Dispensations; if Courtiers, Manners and Ceremonies; if Soldiers, the things that properly belong to their Trade, and principally the Accounts of such Actions and Erterprises wherein they were personally engaged; and if Ambassadors, we are to observe their Negotiations, Intelligences, and Practices, and the Manner how they are to be carried on. And this is the reason why (which perhaps I should have lightly passed over in another) I dwelled upon and maturely considered one Passage in the History writ by Mounsieur de Langey (a Man of very great Judgement in things of that nature) which was, after having given a Narrative of the fine Oration Charles the Fifth had made in the Consistory at Rome, and in the Presence of the Bishop of Mascon and Monsieur de Velley our Ambassadors there, wherein he had mixed several tart and injurious Expressions to the Dishonour of our Nation; and amongst the rest, That if his Captains and Soldiers were not Men of another kind of Fidelity, Resolution, and sufficiency in the Knowledge of Arms, than those of the King, he would immediately go with a Rope about his Neck and sue to him for Mercy, (and it should seem the Emperor had really this, or a very little better Opinion of our military Men, for he afterward, twice or thrice in his Life, said the very same thing) as also, that he challenged the King to fight him in his Shirt with Rapier and Poiniard in a Boat: the said Sieur de Langey pursuing his History, adds, that the forenamed Ambassadors, sending a Dispatch to the King of these things, concealed the greatest part, and particularly the two last Passages. At which I could not but wonder, that it should be in the Power of an Ambassador to dispense with any thing which he ought to signify to his Master, especially of so great importance as this, coming from the Mouth of such a Person, and spoke in so great an Assembly; and should rather conceive it had been the Servant's Duty faithfully to have represented to him the whole and naked Truth as it passed, to the end that the Liberty of disposing, judging and concluding, might absolutely have remained in him: for either to conceal, or to disguise the Truth for fear he should take it otherwise than he ought to do, and lest it should prompt him to some extravagant Resolution, and in the mean time to leave him ignorant of his Affairs; should seem, methinks, rather to belong to him who is to give the Law, than to him who is only to receive it; to him who is in supreme Command, and best can judge of his own Interests, and not to him who ought to look upon himself as inferior in Authority, so also in Prudence and good Counsel: but let it it be how it will, I for my part would be loath to be so serv●d in my little Concerns. We do so willingly slip the Collar of Command upon any Pretence whatever, and are so ready to usurp upon Dominion, and every one does so naturally aspire to Liberty and Power, that no Utility whatever derived from the Wit or Valour of those he does employ, aught to be so dear to a Superior, as a downright and sincere Obendience. To obey more upon the Account of Understanding than of Subjection, is to corrupt the Office, and to subvert the Power of Command; insomuch that P. Crassus, the same whom the Romans reputed five times happy, at the time when he was Consul in Asia, having sent to a Greek Engineer to cause the greater of two Masts of Ships that he had taken notice of at Athens, to be brought to him, to be employed about some Engine of Battery he had a design to make; the other presuming upon his own Science and sufficiency in those Affairs, thought fit to do otherwise than directed, and to bring the less; which also, according to the Rules of Art, was really more proper for the use of which it was designed: but Crassus, though he gave ear to his Reason with great Patience, would not however take them, how sound or convincing soever, for current Pay, but yet remained so highly offended at his Disobedience, that he caused him to be sufficiently whipped for his Pains, valuing the Interest of Discipline much more than of the thing. Notwithstanding, we may on the other side consider, that so precise and implicit an Obedience as this, is only due to positi●● and limited Commands. The Employment of an Ambassador is never so confined; several things in the management of Affairs, and in the various and unforeseen Occurrences and Accidents that may fall out in the Management of a Negotiation of this Nature, being wholly referred to the absolute Sovereignty of their own Conduct: neither do they simply execute only, but also to their own Discretion and Wisdom form and model their Master's Pleasure; and I have in my time known Men of command who have been checked for having rather obeyed the express Words of the King's Letters, than the necessity of the Affairs they had in hand. Men of Understanding do yet to this day condemn the Custom of the Kings of Persia, to give their Lieutenants and Agents so little Rein, that upon the least arising Difficulties they must evermore have Recourse to their further Commands; this delay in so vast an extent of Dominion having often very much prejudiced their Affairs. And Crassus, writing to a Man whose Profession it was best to understand those things, and pre-acquainting him to what use this Mast was designed, did he not seem to consult his Advice, and in a manner invite him to interpose his better Judgement.   

CHAP. XVII.  
Of Fear.  
Virg. Aen. l. 2.  Obstupui, steteruntque comae & vox faucibus haesit. 
I was amazed, struck Speechless, and my Hair  
On end upon my Head did wildly stare.  
I Am not so good a Naturalist as to discern by what secret Springs Fear has its motion in us; but I am wise enough to know, that it is a strong Passion, and such a one, that the Physicians say there is no other what ever that sooner disthrones our Judgements from its proper Seat; which is so true, that I myself have seen very many become frantic through Fear; and even in those of the best settled Temper, it is most certain, that it begets a terrible Astonishment and Confusion during the Fit. I omit the Vulgar sort, to whom it one while represents their Great-Grandsires, risen out of their Graves in their Shrowds, another while Hobgoblins, Spectres and Chimaeras, but even amongst Soldiers (a sort of men over whom, of all others, it ought to have the least Power) how often has it converted Flocks of Sheep into armed Squadrons, Reeds and Bulrushes into Pikes and Lances, Friends into Enemies, and the French White into the Red Crosses of Spain! When Mounsieur de Bourbon took the City of Rome, an Ensign who was upon the Guard at the Bourg St. Pierre, was seized with such a Fright upon the first Alarm, that he threw himself out at a Breach with his Colun upon his Shoulder, and can directly upon the Enemy, thinking he had retreated toward the inward Defences of the City, and with much ado, seeing Mounsieur de Bourbon's People, who thought it had been a Sally upon them, draw up to receive him, at last came to himself, and saw his Error; and then facing about, he retreated full speed through the same Breach by which he had gone out; but not till he had first blindly advanced above three hundred Paces into the open Field. It did not however fall out so well with Captain julius his Ensign at the time when St. Paul was taken from us by the Count de Bur●● and Monsieur du Reu, for he, being so astonished with Fear, as to throw himself and his Fellows out at a Skyt-gate, was immediately cut to pieces by the Enemy; and in the same Siege it was a very memorable Fear, that so seized, contracted, and froze up the Heart of a young Gentleman, that he sunk down stone dead in the Breach, without any manner of Wound or Hurt at all. The like Madness does sometimes push on a whole Multitude; for in one of the Encounters that G●rmanicus had with the Germans, two great Parties were so amazed with Fear, that they ran two opposite ways, the one and the other to the same place, from which either of them had fled before. Sometimes it adds Wings to the Heels, as in the two first, and sometimes nails them to the Ground, and fetters them from moving; as we read of the Emperor Theophilus, who in a Battle he lost against the Agarens, was so astonished and stupefied, that he had no Power to fly; 
Quint. Curt. l. 3.  adeo pavor etiam auxilia formidat, so much does Fear dread even the means of Safety; till such time as Manuel, one of the principal Commanders of his Army, having jogged and shaked him so as to rouse him out of his Trance, said to him, Sir, if you will not follow me, I will kill you: for it is better you should lose your Life, than, by being taken, to lose your Empire. But Fear does then manifest its utmost Power and Effect, when it throws us upon a valiant Despair, having before deprived us of all sense both of Duty and Honour. In the first pitched Battle the Romans lost against Hannibal, under the Consul Sempronius, a Body of ten thousand Foot, that had taken a Fright, seeing no other Escape for their Cowardice, went, and threw themselves headlong upon the great Battalion of the Enemies, which also with wonderful force and fury they charged thorough and thorough, and routed with a very great slaughter of the Carthaginians, by that means purchasing an ignominious flight at the same price they might have done a glorious Victory. The thing in the World I am most afraid of is Fear, and with good reason, that Passion alone, in the trouble of it, exceeding all other Accidents. What affliction could be greater or more just than that of Pompe●'s Followers and Friends, who, in his Ship, were Spectators of that horrid and inhuman murder? Yet so it was, that the Fear of the Egyptian Vessels they saw coming to board them, possessed them with so great a Fear, that it is observed they thought of nothing, but calling upon the Mariners to make haste, and by force of Oars to escape away, till being arrived at Tyre, and delivered from the apprehension of further danger, they then had leisure to turn their thoughts to the loss of their Captain, and to give vent to those tears and lamentations that the other more prevalent Passion had till then suspended.  Tum pavor sapientiam omnem mihi ex animo expectorat. 
My Mind with great and sudden fear oppressed▪  
Was, for the time, of Judgement dispossessed.  
Such as have been well banged in some Skirmish, may yet, all wounded and bloody as they are, be brought on again the next day to charge: but such as have once conceived a good sound Fear of the Enemy, will never be made so much as to look him in the Face. Such as are in immediate Fear of losing their Estates, of Banishment, or of Slavery, live in perpetual Anguish, and lose all Appetite and Repose; whereas such as are actually poor, Slaves and Exiles, ofttimes live as merrily as Men in a better Condition: and so many People, who impatient of the perpetual Alarms of Fear, have hanged and drowned themselves, give us sufficiently to understand, that it is more importunate and insupportable than Death itself. The Greeks acknowledge another kind of Fear exceeding any we have spoke of yet, a Passion that surprises us without any visible Cause, by an impulse from Heaven; so that whole Armies and Nations have been struck with it. Such a one was that, which brought so wonderful a Desolation upon Carthage, where nothing was to be heard but Voices, and Outcries of Fear, where the Inhabitants were seen to sally out of their Houses as to an Alarm, and there to charge, wound, and kill one another, as if they had been Enemies come to surprise their City. All things were in strange Disorder and Fury, till with Prayers and Sacrifices they had appeased their Gods: and this is that they call a Panic Terror.   

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

Ouid. Met. l. 3. — scilicet ultima semper  
Expectanda dies homini est, dicique beatus,  
Ante obitum nemo supremaque funera debet.  
Mens last days still to be expected are,  
ere we of them our Judgements do declare;  
Nor can't of any one be rightly said,  
That he is happy, till he first be dead.  
EVery one is acquainted with the Story of King Croesus to this purpose, who being taken Prisoner by Cyrus, and by him condemned to die, as he was going to Execution, cried out, O Solon, Solon! which being presently reported to Cyrus, and he sending to inquire of him what it meant, Croesus gave him to understand, that he now found the Advertisement Solon had formerly given him true to his Cost, which was, That men, however Fortune may smile upon them, could never be said to be happy, till they had been seen to pass over the last day of their Lives, by reason of the uncertainty and mutability of Humane things, which upon very light and trivial occasions, are subject to be totally changed into a quite contrary condition. And therefore it was, that Agesil●us made answer to one that was saying, what a happy young man the King of Pers●● was, to come so young to so mighty a Kingdom; 'Tis true, (said he) but neither was Priam unhappy at his years. In a short time, of Kings of Macedon, Successors to that mighty Al●xander, were made Joyne●● and Scriveners at Rome, of a Tyrant of Sicily, a Pedant at Corinth, of a Conqueror of one half of the World, and General of so many Armies, a miserable Suppliant to the rascally. Officers of a King of Egypt. So much the prolongation of five or Six Months of Life cost the Great and Noble P●mpey, and no longer 〈◊〉 than our Father's da●s, Ludovico Sforza, the tenth Duke of Milan, whom all Italy had so long truckled under, was seen to die a wretched Prisoner at Loches, but not till he had lived ten Years in Captivity, which was the worst part of his Fortune. The fairest of all Queens, 
Marry, Qu. of Scots.  Widow to the greatest King in Europe, did she not come to die by the hand of an Executioner? Unworthy and barbarous Cruelty! and a thousand more Examples there are of the same kind; for, it seems, that as Storms and Tempests have a Malice to the proud, and overtow'ring heights of our lofty Buildings, there are also Spirits above that are envious of the Grandeurs here below.  

Lucret. l. 5.  Usque adeo res humanas vis abdita quaedam  
Obterit, & pulchros Fasces, saevasque secures  
Proculcare, ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur.  
By which it does appear, a Power unseen  
Rome's awful Fasces, and her Axes keen  
Spurns under foot, and plainly does despise,  
Of humane Power the vain Formalities.  
And it should seem also that Fortune sometimes lies in wait to surprise the last Hour of our Lives, to show the Power she has in a Moment to overthrow what she was so many Years in building, making us cry out with Laberius, 
Macrob. l. 2. c. 2.  Nimirum hac die una plus vixi mihi quàm vivendum fuit, I have liv●d longer by this one day than I ought to have done. And in this Sense, this good Advice of Solon may reasonably be taken; but he being a Philosopher, with which sort of Men the Favours and Disgraces of Fortune stand for nothing, either to the making a Man happy or unhappy, and with home Grandeurs and Powers, Accidents of Quality, are upon the Matter indifferent: I am apt to think that he had some farther Aim, and that his meaning was, that the very Felicity of Life itself, which depends upon the Tranquillity and Contentment of a well-descended Spirit, and the Resolution and Assurance of a well-ordered Soul, ought never to be attributed to any Man, till he has first been seen to play the last, and doubtless the hardest act of his Part, because there may be Disguise and Dissimulation in all the rest, where these fine Philosophical Discourses are only put on; and where Accidents do not touch us to the Quick, they give us leisure to maintain the same sober Gravity; but in this last Scene of Death, there is no more counterfeiting, we must speak plain, and must discover what there is of pure and clean in the bottom.  

Lucret. l. 3.  Nam verae voces tum demum pectore ab imo  
Ejiciuntur, & eripitur persona, manet res.  
Then that at last Truth issues from the Heart,  
The Vizor's gone, we act our own true part.  
Wherefore at this last all the other Actions of our Life ought to be tried and sifted. 'Tis the Master-day, 'tis the day that is judge of all the rest, 'Tis the Day (says one of the Ancients) that aught to judge of all my foregoing Years. To Death do I refer the Eisay of the Fruit of all my Studies. We shall then see whether my Discourses came only from my Mouth, or from my Heart. I have seen many by their Death give a good or an ill Repute to their whole Life. Scipio, the Father-in-law of Pompey the great, in dying well, wiped away the ill Opinion, that till then every one had conceived of him. Epaminondas being asked which of the three he had in greatest esteem, Chabrias, Iphicrates, or himself; You must first see us die (said he) before that Question can be resolved: and in truth, he would infinitely wrong that great Man, who would weigh him without the Honour and Grandeur of his End. God Almighty has ordered all things as it has best pleased him: But I have in my time seen three of the most execrable Persons that ever I knew in all manner of abominable living, and the most infamous to boot, who all died a very regular Death, and in all Circumstances composed even to Perfection. There are brave, and fortunate Deaths. I have seen Death cut the Thread of the Progress of a prodigious Advancement, and in the height and Flower of its increase of a certain Person, with so glorious an end, that in my Opinion his Ambitious, and generous Designs had nothing in them so high and great as their Interruption; and he arrived, without completing his course, at the Place to which his Ambition pretended with greater Glory, than he could himself either hope or desire, and anticipated by his Fall the Name and power to which he aspired, by perfecting his Career. In the Judgement I make of another Man's Life, I always observe how he carried himself at his Death; and the principal Concern I have for my own, is, that I may die handsomely, that is, patiently, and without noise.   

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

Horat. l. 2. Od. 3.  Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium  
Versatur Urna; serius, ocyus  
Sors exitura, nos in aeternum  
Exilium impositura Cymbae.  
We all are to one Voyage bound; by turn,  
Sooner or later, all must to the Urn:  
When Charon calls aboard we must not stay,  
But to eternal Exile sail away.  
And consequently, if it frights us, 'tis a perpetual Torment, and for which there is no Consolation nor Redress. There is no way by which we can possibly avoid it, it commands all Points of the Compass; we may continually turn our Heads this way and that, and pry about as in a suspected Country, 
Cicero de finib. l. 1.  quae quasi saxum Tantalo semper impendet, but it, like Tantal●s his Stone, hangs over us. Our Courts of Justice often send back condemned Criminals to be executed upon the Place where the Fact was committed, but carry them to all fine Houses by the way, and prepare for them the best Entertainment you can, 

Hor. l. 3. Od. 1. — non Sicula Dape●  
Dulcem elaborabunt saporem:  
Non avium, citharaeque cantus  
Somnum reducent.  
— the tastes of such as these  
Choicest Sicilian Dainties cannot please,  
Nor yet of Birds, or Harps the Harmonies  
Once charm asleep, or close their watchful Eyes.  do you think they could relish it? and that the fatal end of their Journey being continually before their Eyes, would not alter and deprave their Palate from tasting these Regalios?  

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

Lucret. l. 4.  Qui capite ipse suo instituit vestigia retro.  
He who the order of his steps has laid  
To light and natural motion retrograde,  'tis no wonder if he be often trapped in the Pitfall. They use to fright People with the very mention of Death, and many cross themselves, as it were the name of the Devil; and because the making a man's Will is in reference to dying, not a man will be persuaded to take a Pen in hand to that purpose, till the Physician has passed sentence upon him, and totally given him over, and then betwixt Grief and Terror, God knows in how fit a condition of Understanding he is to do it. The Romans, by reason that this poor syllable Death was observed to be so harsh to the Ears of the People, and the sound so ominous; had found out a way to soften and spin it out by a Periphrasis, and instead of pronouncing bluntly, such a one is dead, to say, such a one has lived, or such a one has ceased to live; for, provided there was any mention of Life in the Case, though past, it carried yet some sound of Consolation. And from them it is that we have borrowed our expression of the late Monsieur such and such a one. Peradventure (as the Saying is) the term we have lived is worth our money. 
The Author's birth.  I was born betwixt eleven and twelve a clock in the Forenoon the last of February 1533. according to our Computation, beginning the Year the first of January, and it is now but just fifteen days since I was complete nine and thirty years old; I make account to live at least as many more. In the mean time, to trouble a man's self with the thought of a thing so far of, is a senseless Foolery. But what? Young and Old die after the very same manner, and no one departs out of Life otherwise, than if he had but just before entered into it; neither is any so old and decrepit, who has heard of Methusalem, that does not think he has yet twenty years of Constitution good at least. Fool that thou art, who has assured unto thee the term of Life? Thou depend●st upon Physicians Tales and Stories, but rather consult Experience, and the fragility of humane Nature: for, according to the common course of things, 'tis long since that thou liv'dst by extraordinary Favour. Thou hast already out-li'vd the ordinary term of Life, and that it is so, reckon up thy Acquaintance, how many more have died before they arrived at thy Age, than have attained unto it, and of those who have ennobled their Lives by their Renown, take but an Account, and I dare lay a Wager, thou wilt find more who have died before than after five and thirty years of age. It is full both of Reason and Piety too, to take Example by the Humanity of Jesus Christ himself, who ended his Life at three and thirty years. The greatest man, that ever was no more than a man, Alexander, died also at the same Age. How many several ways has Death to surprise us?  

Hor. l. 2. Od. 13.  Quid quisque vitet, nunquam homini satis  
Cautum est in horas.  
Man fain would shun, but 'tis not in his Power  
T'evade the dangers of each threatening hour.  
To omit Fevers and Pleurisies, who would ever have imagined that a Duke of Britanny should be pressed to death in a Crowed, as that Duke was at the entry of Pope Clement into Lions? Have we not seen one of our 
* Henry II. of France, running against Montgomery. 2. Philip the eldest son of Lewis the Gross, the 40th. King of France.  Kings killed at a Tilting, and did not one of his Ancestors die by the justle of a Hog? Aeschylus, being threatened with the fall of a house, was to much purpose so circumspect to avoid that danger, when he was knocked o'th' head by a Tortoise-shell falling out of an eagle's Talons in the Fields. Another was choked with a Grapestone; an Emperor killed with the scratch of a Comb in combing his Head. Aemilius Lepidus, with a stumble at his own threshold, and Aufidius with a justle against the door, as he entered the Council Chamber. And betwixt the very Thighs of Women, Cor●elius Gallus the Prator, Tigillinus Captain of the Watch at Rome, Ludovico Son of Guido de Gonzaga Marquis of Mantua, and (of worse example) Speusippus, a Platonic Philosopher, and one of our Popes. The poor Judge Bebite, whilst he reprieved a Criminal for eight days only, was himself condemned to death, and his own day of Life was expired. Whilst Caius Julius the Physician was anointing the Eyes of a Patient, Death closed his own; and if I may bring in an Example of my own Blood; A Brother of mine, Captain St. Martin, a young man, of three and twenty years old, who had already given sufficient testimomy of his Valour, playing a match at Tennis, received a blow of a Ball a little above his right Ear, which, though it was without any manner of sign of Wound, or depression of the Skull, and though he took no great notice of it, nor so much as sat down to repose himself, he nevertheless died within five or six hours after, of an Apoplexy occasioned by that blow. Which so frequent and common Examples passing every day before our Eyes, how is it possible a man should disengage himself from the thought of Death; or avoid fancying that it has us every moment by the Collar? What matter is it, you will say, which way it comes to pass, provided a man does not terrify himself with the expectation? For my part, I am of this mind, that if a man could by any means avoid it, though by creeping under a Calf's skin, I am one that should not be ashamed of the shift: all I aim at is, to pass my time pleasantly, and without any great Reproach, and the Recreations that most contribute to it, I take hold of, as to the rest, as little glorious and exemplary as you would desire.  

H●ra●e, Epist. 2 l. 2. — praetulerim d●lirus inersque videri,  
Dum mea d●lectant m●la me, vel deni▪ fallant,  
Quàm sapere, & ringi.  
A Fool, or Coward, let me censured be,  
Whilst either Vice does please, or cousin me,  
Rather, than be thought wise, and ●eel the smart  
Of a perpetual aching, anxious Heart.  
But 'tis folly to think of doing any thing that way. They go, they come, they gallop and dance, and not a word of Death. All this is very fine, but withal, when it comes either to themselves, their Wives, their Children, or Friends, surprising them at unawares, and unprepared, then what torment, what outcries, what madness and despair! Did you ever see any thing so subdued, so changed and so confounded? A man must therefore make more early trial of it; and this brutish negligence, could it possibly lodge in the Brain of any man of Sense (which I think utterly impossible) sells us its merchandise too dear. Were it an Enemy that could be avoided, I would then advise to borrow Arms even of Cowardice itself to that effect: but seeing it is not, and that it will catch you as well flying, and playing the Poltroon, as standing to't like a man of Honour.  

Idem l. 3. Ode 2.  Nempe & fugacem persequitur virum,  
Nec parcit imbellis juventae  
Poplitibus timidoque tergo.  
No speed of ●oot prevents Death of his prize,  
He cuts the Hamstrings of the man that flies;  
Nor spares the tender Stripling's back does start  
T' outrun the distance of his mortal Dart.  
And seeing that no temper of Arms is of proof to secure us, 

Propert. l. 3. Eleg 17. altas 16.  Ille licet ferro, cautus se condat, & aere  
Mors tamen inclusum protrahet inde caput.  
Shell thee with Steel or Brass, advised by dread  
Death from the Cask will pull thy cautious Head.  let us learn bravely to stand our ground, and fight him. And to begin to deprive him of the greatest Advantage he has over us, let us take a way quite contrary to the common course. Let us disarm him of his Novelty and Strangeness, let us converse, and be familiar with him, and have nothing so frequent in our thoughts as Death; Let us upon occasions represent him in all his most dreadful shapes to our imagination; at the stumbling of a Horse, at the falling of a Tile, at the lest prick with a Pin, let us presently consider, and say to ourselves, Well, and what if it had been Death itself? and thereupon let us encourage and fortify ourselves. Let us evermore amidst our jollity and Feasting, set the remembrance of our frail condition before our Eyes, never suffering ourselves to be so far transported with our Delight, but that we have some intervals of reflecting upon, and considering how many several ways this Jollity of ours tends to Death, and with how many dangers it threatens it. The Egyptians were wont to do after this manner, who in the height of their Feasting a●d Mirth, caused a dried Skeleton of a Man to be brought into the Room to serve for a Memento to their Guests.  

Horat. l. 1. Epist. 4.  Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum,  
Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur hora.  
Think every day, soon as the day is past,  
Of thy Life's date, that thou hast lived the last;  
The next day's joyful Light thine Eyes shall see,  
As unexpected, will more welcome be.  
Where Death waits for us in uncertain; let us every where look for him. The Premeditation of Death is the Premeditation of Liberty; who has learned to die has forgot to serve. There is nothing of Evil in Life, for him who rightly comprehends, that Death is no Evil; to know how to die delivers us from all Subjection and Constraint. Paulus Aemilius answered him whom the miserable King of Macedon, his Prisoner, sent to entreat him that he would not lead him in his Triumph, Let him make that Request to himself. In truth, in all things, if Nature do not help a little, it is very hard for Art and Industry to perform any thing to purpose. I am in my own Nature not melancholy, but thoughtful; and there is nothing I have more continually entertained myself withal, than the Imaginations of Death, even in the gayest and most wanton time of my Age.  
Catullus. Num. 69.  Jucundum cum aetas florida ver ageret. Of florid Age in the most pleasant Spring. 
In the Company of Ladies, and in the height of Mirth, some have perhaps thought me possessed with some jealousy, or meditating upon the Uncertainty of some imagined Hope, whilst I was entertaining myself with the Remembrance of some one surprised a few days before with a burning Fever of which he died returning from an Entertainment like this with his Head full of idle Fancies of Love and Jollity, as mine was then, and that for aught I knew the same Destiny was attending me. 
Lucret. l 3.  I am fuerit, nec post unquam revocare licebit. 
But now he had a being amongst Men,  
Now gone, and ne'er to be recalled again.  Yet did no● this Thought wrinkle my Forehead any more than any other. It is impossible but we must feel a sting in such Imaginations as these at first; but with often revolving them in a Man's Mind, and having them frequent in our Thoughts, they at last become so familiar as to be no trouble at all: otherwise, I for my part should be in a perpetual Fright and Frenzy; for never Man was so distrustful of his Life, never Man so indifferents for its Duration. Neither Health, which I have hitherto ever enjoyed very strong and vigorous, and very seldom interrupted, does prolong, nor Sickness contract my Hopes. Methinks I scape every minute, and it eternally runs in my Mind, that what may be done to morrow may be done to day. Hazards and Dangers do, in truth, little or nothing hasten our end; and if we consider how many more remain and hang over our Heads, besides the accident that immediately threatens us, we shall find that the Sound and the Sick, those that are abroad at Sea, and those that sit by the Fire, those who are engaged in Battle, and those who sit idle at home, are the one as near it as the other: Nemo altero fragilior est: nemo in crastinum sui certior, 
Senec. ●p. 19  No man is more frail than another: no more certain of the morrow, For any thing I have to do before I die, the longest leisure would appear too short, were it but an Hours business I had to do. A Friend of mine the other day turning over my Table-Book, found in it a Memorandum of something I would have done after my Decease, whereupon I told him, as it was really true, that though I was no more than a League's distance only from my own House, and merry and well, yet when that thing came into my Head; I made hast to write it down there, because I was not certain to live till I came home. As a man that am eternally brooding over my own thoughts, and who confine them to my own particular Concerns, I am upon the matter at all hours as well prepared as I am ever like to be, and Death, whenever he shall come, can bring nothing along with him I did not expect long before. We should always (as near as we can) be booted and spurred, and ready to go, and above all things to take care at that time to have no business with any one but a man's self: 
Hor. l. 2. Od. 16.  Quid brevi fortes jaculamur aevo Multa? 
Why cut'st thou out such mighty Work, vain man?  
Whose Life's short date's comprised in one poor span?  For we shall there find work enough to do, without any need of Addition; One complains, more than of Death, than he is thereby prevented of a glorious Victory; another, that he must die before he has married his Daughter, or settled, and provided for his Children; a third seems only troubled that he must lose the society of his beloved Wife; a fourth, the conversation of his Son, as the principal concerns of his Being. For my part, I am, thanks be to God, at this instant in such a condition, that I am ready to dislodge, whenever it shall please him, without any manner of regret. I disengage myself throughout from all Worldly Relations, my leave is soon taken of all but myself. Never did any one prepare to bid adieu to the World more absolutely and purely, and to shake hands with all manner of Interest in it, than I expect to do. The deadest Deaths are the best.  

Lucret. l. 3. — miser, O miser, (aiunt) omnia ademit  
Una dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae;  
Wretch that I am (they cry) one fatal day  
So many joys of Life has snatched away.  
And the Builder,  

Aeneid. l. 4. — manent (dit il.) opera interrupta, minaeque  
Murorum ingentes, aequataque machina Coelo.  
Stupendious Piles (say he) neglected lie,  
And towers whose Pinnacles do pierce the Sky.  
A man must design nothing that will require so much time to the finishing, or at least with no such passionate desire to see it brought to Perfection. We are born to action.  
Ovid. Amor. lib. 2. Eleg. 10.  Cum moriar medium solvar & inter opus. 
When Death shall come, he me will doubtless find  
Doing of something that I had designed.  
I would always have a man to be doing, and as much as in him lies, to extend, and spin out the Offices of life; and then let Death take me planting Cabbages, but without any careful thought of him, and much less of my Garden's not being finished. I saw one die, who at his last gasp seemed to be concerned at nothing so much, as that Destiny was about to cut the thread of a Chronicle History he was then compiling, when he was gone no farther than the fifteenth or sixteenth of our Kings.  

Lucret. l. 3.  Illud in his rebus non addunt, nec tibi earum  
I am desiderium rerum, superinsidet una.  
They tell us not that dying we've no more  
The same desires and thoughts that heretosore.  
We are to discharge ourselves from these vulgar and hurtful Humours and Concerns. To this purpose it was, that men first appointed the places of Sepulture, and Dormitories of the dead, near adjoining to the Churches, and in the most frequent places of the City, to accustom (says Lycurgus) the common People, Women and Children, that they should not be startled at the sight of a dead Corpse; and to the end, that the continual Objects of Bones, Graves, Monuments, and Funeral Obsequies should put us in Mind of our frail condition.  

Silius Ita●icus, l. 11.  Quinetiam exhilarare viris convivia caede  
Mos olim, & miscere epulis spectacula dira  
Certatum ferro, saepe & super ipsa cadentum  
Pocula, respersis non parco sanguine mensis.  
'Twas therefore that the Ancients at their Feasts  
With tragic Objects used to treat their Guests,  
Making their Fencers with their utmost spite,  
Skill, Force, and Fury, in their presence fight,  
Till streams of Blood of those at last must fall,  
Dashed o'er their Tables, Dishes, Cups and all.  
And as the Egyptians after their Feasts were wont to present the Company with a great Image of Death, by one that cried out to them, Drink and be merry, for such shalt thou be when thou art dead; so it is my Custom to have Death not only in my Imagination, but continually in my Mouth; neither is there any thing of which I am so inquisitive, and delight to inform myself, as the manner of men's Deaths, their Words, Looks, and Gestures; nor any places in History I am so intent upon; and it is manifest enough, by my crowding in Examples of this kind, that I have a particular fancy for that Subject. If I were a Writer of Books, I would compile a Register with a Comment of the various Deaths of men, and it could not but be useful, for who should teach men to die, would at the same time teach them to live. D●cearchus made one, to which he gave that Title; but it was designed for another, and less profitable end. Peradventure some one may object, and say, that the pain and terror of dying indeed does so infinitely exceed all manner of imagination, that the best Fencer will be quite out of his Play when it comes to the Push: but let them say what they will, to premeditate is doubtless a very great Advantage; and besides, is it nothing to come so far, at least, without any visible Disturbance or Alteration? But moreover, Nature herself does assist and encourage us. If the Death be sudden and violent, we have not leisure to fear; if otherwise, I find, that as I engage further in my Disease, I naturally enter into a certain loathing, and disdain of Life. I find I have much more ado to digest this Resolution of dying when I am well in Health than when sick languishing of a Fever; and by how much I have less to do with the Commodities of Life, by reason I even begin to lose the use and Pleasure of them, by so much I look upon Death with less Terror and Amazement; which makes me hope, that the further I remove from the first, and the nearer I approach to the latter, I shall sooner strike a bargain, and with less Unwillingness exchange the one for the other. And, as I have experimented in other Occurrences, that, as Caesar says, things often appear greater to us at distance than near at hand, I have found, that being well, I have had Diseases in much greater Horror than when really afflicted with them. The Vigour wherein I now am, and the Jollity and Delight wherein I now live, make the contrary Estate appear in so great a disproportion to my present condition, that by Imagination I magnify and make those inconveniences twice greater than they are, and apprehend them to be much more troublesome, than I find them really to be, when they lie the most heavy upon me, and I hope to find Death the same. Let us but observe in the ordinary changes and Declinations our Constitutions daily suffer, how Nature deprives us of all sight and sense of our bodily decay. What remains to an old man of the vigour of his Youth and better days? 

Corn. Galli. vel potius Maximian. Eleg. 1.  He is senibus vitae portio quanta manet?  
Alas, to men, of youthful Heat bereavest,  
How small a Portion of Life is left?  Caesar, to an old weatherbeaten Soldier of his Guards, who came to ask him leave that he might kill himself, taking notice of his withered Body, and decrepit motion, pleasantly answered, Thou fansiest then that thou art yet alive. Should a man fall into the Aches and impotencies of Age, from a sprightly and vigorous Youth on the sudden, I do not think Humanity capable of enduring such a change: but Nature, leading us by the hand, an easy, and as it were, an insensible pace, step by step conducts us to that miserable condition, and by that means makes it familiar to us, so that we perceive not, nor are sensible of the stroke then, when our Youth dies in us, though it be really a harder Death, than the final Dissolution of a languishing Body, which is only the Death of old Age; forasmuch as the Fall is not so great from an uneasy being to none at all, as it is from a sprightly and florid Being to one that is unwieldy and Painful. The Body, when bowed beyond its natural spring of Strength, has less Force either to rise with, or support a burden; and it is with the Soul the same, and therefore it is, that we are to raise her up firm and erect against the Power of this Adversary: for as it is impossible she should ever be at rest, or at Peace within herself, whilst she stands in fear of it; so if she once can assure herself, she may boast (which is a thing as it were above Humane Condition) that it is impossible that Disquiet, Anxiety, or Fear, or any other Disturbance, should inhabit, or have any Place in her. 

Horat. l. 3. Od. 3.  Non vultus instantis tyranni  
Mente quatit solida, neque Auster  
Dux inquieti turbidus Adriae,  
Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus.  
A Soul well settled is not to be shaken  
With an incensed Tyrant's threatening Look;  
Nor can loud Austere once that Heart dismay,  
The ruffling Prince of stormy Adria;  
Nor yet th' advanced hand of mighty Jove;  
Though charged with Thunder, such a Temper move.  She is then become Sovereign of all her Lusts and Passions, Mistress of Necessity, Shame, Poverty, and all the other Injuries of Fortune. Let us therefore, as many of us as can, get this Advantage, which is the true and sovereign Liberty here on Earth, and that fortifies us wherewithal to defy Violence and Injustice, and to contemn Prisons and Chains.  

Horat. l. 1. Epist. 16. — in Manicis, &  
Compedibus, saevo te sub custode tenebo.  
Ipse Deus simul atque volam, me solvet, opinor,  
Hoc sentit, moriar: mors ultima linea rerum est.  
With rugged Chains I'll load thy Hands and Feet,  
And to a surly Keeper thee commit;  
Why, let him show his worst of Cruelty,  
God will, I think, for ask, set me free:  
Ay, but he thinks I'll die; that Comfort brings,  
For Death's the utmost Line of Humane things.  
Our very Religion itself has no surer humane Foundation than the Contempt of Death. 
The contempt of Death a certain Foundation of Religion.  Not only the Argument of Reason invites us to it; for why should we fear to lose a thing, which being lost, can never be missed or lamented? but also seeing we are threatened by so many sorts of Death, is it not infinitely worse eternally to fear them all, than once to undergo one of them? And what matter is it when it shall happen, since it is once inevitable? To him that told Socrates, the thirty Tyrants have sentenced thee to Death; and Nature them; said he. What a ridiculous thing it is to trouble and afflict ourselves, about taking the only Step that is to deliver us from all Misery and Trouble? As our Birth brought us the Birth of all things, so in our Death is the Death of all things included. And therefore to lament and take on, that we shall not be alive a hundred Years hence, is the same Folly as to be sorry we were not alive a hundred Years ago. Death is the beginning of another Life. So did we weep, and so much it cost us to enter into this, and so did we put of our former Veil in entering into it. Nothing can be grievous that is but once, and is it reasonable so long to fear a thing that will so soon be dispatched? Long Life and short, are by Death made all one; for there is no long, nor short, to things that are no more. Aristotle tells us, that there are certain little Beasts upon the Banks of the River Hypanis, that never live above a day: they which die at eight of the Clock in the Morning, die in their Youth, and those that die at five in the Evening, in their extremest Age: Which of us would not laugh to see this Moment of Continuance put into the consideration of Weal or Woe? The most, and the least of ours in comparison of Eternity, or yet to the Duration of Mountains, Rivers, Stars, Trees, and even of some Animals, is no less ridiculous. But Nature compels us to it; Go out of this World, says she, as you entered into it; the same Pass you made from Death to Life, without Passion or Fear, the same, after the same manner, repeat from Life to Death. Your Death is a part of the Order of the Universe, 'tis a part of the Life of the World.  

Lucret. l. 2. — Inter se mortales mutua vivunt,  
Et quasi cursores vitai lampada tradunt.  
Mortals amongst themselves by turns do live,  
And Life's bright Torch to the next Runner give. 
Alluding to the Athenian Games, wherein those that run a Race carried Torches in their Hands; and the Race being done, delivered them into the Hands of those who were to run next.   
'Tis the Condition of your Creation; Death is a part of you, and whilst you endeavour to evade it, you avoid yourselves. This very Being of yours that you now enjoy is equally divided betwixt Life and Death. The day of your Birth is one days advance towards the Grave. 
Senec. Her. fur. chor. 3.  Prima, quae vitam dedit, hora, carpsit. 
The Hour that gave of Life the benefit,  
Did also a whole Hour shorten it.  
Manil. Ast. 4.  Nascentes morimur, finisque ab origine pendet. 
As we are born, we die, and our Life's end  
Upon our Life's beginning does depend.  All the whole time you live you purloin from Life, and live at the expense of Life itself, the perpetual work of our whole Life is but to lay the foundation of Death; you are in Death whilst you live, because you still are after Death, when you are no more alive. Or if you had rather have it so, you are dead after Life, but dying all the while you live; and Death handles the dying much more rudely than the dead. If you have made your profit of Life, you have had enough of it, go your way satisfied. 
Lucret. l. 3.  Cur non ut plenus vitae conviva recedis. 
Why shouldst thou not go like a full gorged Guest,  
Sated with Life, as he is with a Feast?  If you have not known how to make the best use of it, and if it was unprofitable to you, what need you care to lose it, to what end would you desire longer to keep it? 

Ibid. — cur amplius addere quaeris  
Rursum quod pereat malè & ingratum occidat omne?  
And why renew thy time, to what intent  
Live over again a Life that was ill spent?  Life in itself is neither good nor evil, it is the Scene of good or evil, as you make it; and, if you have lived a day, you have seen all; one day is equal, and like to all other days; there is no other Light, no other Shade, this very Sun, this Moon, these very Stars, this very Order and Revolution of things, is the same your Ancestors enjoyed, and that shall also entertain your Posterity. 
Lucret. vel Manil.  Non alium videre patres, aliumve nepotes Aspicient. 
Your Grandsires saw no other things of old,  
Nor shall your Nephews other things behold.  And come the worst that can come, the distribution and variety of all the Acts of my Comedy, is performed in a Year. If you have observed the Revolution of the four Seasons, they comprehend, the Infancy, Youth, Virility, and old Age of the World. The Year has played his part, and knows no other way, has no new Farce, but must begin and repeat the same again; it will always be the same thing.  
Lucret. l. 3.  Versamur ibidem, atque insumus usque. 
Where still we plot, and still contrive in vain;  
For in the same state still we do remain.  
Vir. Georg. l. 2.  Atque in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus. 
By its own footsteps led, the Year doth bring  
Both ends together in an annual Ring.  
Time is not resolved to create you any new Recreations.  

Lucret. l. 3.  Nam tibi praeterea quod machiner, inveniamque  
Quod placeat, nihil est: eadem sunt omnia semper.  
More pleasures than are made time will not frame,  
For to all times, all things shall be the same.  
Give place to others, as others have given place to you. Equality is the Soul of Equity. Who can complain of being comprehended in the same Destiny wherein all things are involved? Besides, live as long as you can, you shall by that nothing shorten the space you are to lie dead in the Grave; 'tis all to no purpose; you shall be every whit as long in the condition you so much fear, as if you had died at Nurse. 

Ibidem. — licet quot vis vivendo vincere secla,  
Mors aeterna tamen, nihilominus illa manebit.  
And live as many Ages as you will,  
Death ne'ertheless shall be eternal still.  And yet I will place you in such a condition as you shall have no reason to be displeased; 

Ibidem.  In vera nescis nullum fore morte alium te  
Qui p●ssit vivus tibi te lugere peremptum.  
Stansque jacentem.  
When dead, a living self thou canst not have  
Or to lament, or trample on thy grave.  Nor shall you so much as wish for the Life you are so concerned about.  

Ibidem.  Nec sibi enim quisquam tum se vitamque requirit,  
Nec desiderium nostri nos afficit ullum.  
Life, nor ourselves we wish in that Estate,  
Nor Thoughts of what we were at first create.  
Death were less to be feared than nothing. if there could be any thing less than nothing. 

Ibidem. — multo mortem minus ad nos esse putandum,  
Si minus esse potest quam quod nihil esse videmus.  
If less than nothing any thing can show,  
Death then would both appear, and would be so.  Neither can it any way concern you, whether you are living or dead: living, by reason that you are still in being; dead, because you are no more. Moreover, no one dies before his Hour; and the Time you leave behind was no more yours, than that was lapsed, and gone before you came into the World; nor does it any more concern you.  

Ibidem.  Respice enim quam nil ad nos anteacta vetustas Temporis aeterni fuerit.  
Look back and though Times past eternal were,  
In those before us yet we had no share.  
wherever your Life ends it is all there; neither does the Utility of living consist in the length of days, but in the well husbanding and improving of Time, and such an one may have been who has longer continued in the World than the ordinary Age of Man; that has yet lived but a little while. Make use of Time while it is present with you. It depends upon your Will, and not upon the number of Days, to have a sufficient length of Life. Is it possible you can imagine ever to arrive at the Place towards which you are continually going? and yet there is no Journey but hath its end. But if Company will make it more pleasant, or more easy to you, does not all the World go the self same way? 
Ibidem. — omnia te vita perfuncta sequentur. 
When thou art dead, let this thy Comfort be,  
That all the World, by turn, must follow thee.  Does not all the World dance the same Brawl that you do? Is there any thing that does not grow old as well as you? A thousand Men, a thousand Animals, and a thousand other Creatures, die at the same moment that you expire.  

Lucret. l. 2.  Nam nox nulla diem, neque noctem aurora secuta est,  
Quae non audierit mistos vagitibus aegris  
Ploratus, mortis comites, & funeris atri.  
No Night succeeds the Day, nor Morning's Light  
Rises to chase the sullen Shades of Night,  
Wherein there is not heard the dismal Groans  
Of dying Men, mixed with the woeful moans  
Of living Friends, as also with the Cries  
And Dirges sitting funeral Obsequies.  
To what end should you endeavour to avoid, unless there were a possibility to evade it? you have seen Examples enough of those who have received so great a benefit by Dying, as thereby to be manifestly delivered from infallible Miseries; but have you Talked with any of those who have feared a Disadvantage by it? It must therefore needs be very foolish to condemn a thing you neither experimented in your own Person, nor by that of any other. Why (says Nature) dost thou complain of me and Destiny? Do we do thee any wrong? Is it for thee to govern us, or for us to dispose of thee? Though peradventure thy Age may not be accomplished, yet thy Life is. A Man of low Stature is as much a man as a Giant; neither Men, nor their Lives, are measured by the Ell. Chiron refused to be immortal, when he was acquainted with the Conditions under which he was to enjoy it, by the God of time itself, and its Duration, his Father Saturn. Do but seriously consider how much more insupportable an immortal and painful Life would be to man than what I have already designed him. If you had not Death to ease you of your Pains and Cares, you would eternally curse me for having deprived you of the Benefit of Dying. I have, 'tis true mixed a little Bitterness with it, to the end, that seeing of what Conveniency and Use it is, you might not too greedily and indiscreetly seek and embrace it: and that you might be so established in this Moderation, as neither to nauseate Life, nor have an Antipathy for dying, which I have decreed you shall once do, I have tempered the one and the other betwixt Pleasure and Pain: and 'twas I that first taught Thales, the most eminent of all your Sages, that to Live and to Die were indifferent; which made him very wisely answer him who asked him, Why then did he not die? because (says he) it is indifferent. The Elements of Water, Earth, Fire, and Air, and the other Parts of this Creation of thine, are no more the Instruments of thy Life than they are of thy Death. Why dost thou fear thy last day, it contributes no more to thy dissolution than every one of the rest? The last Step is not the cause of lassitude, it does but confess it. Every Day travels towards Death, the last only arrives at it. These are the good Lessons our Mother Nature teaches. I have often considered with myself whence it should proceed, that in War the Image of Death, whether we look upon it as to our own particular danger, or that of another, should without Comparison appear less dreadful than at home in our own Houses, (for if it were not so, it would be an Army of whining Milksops) and that being still in all Places the same, there should be notwithstanding much more Assurance in Peasants, and the meaner sort of People, than others of better Quality and Education: and I do verily believe, that it is those terrible Ceremonies and Preparations wherewith we set it out, that more terrify us than the thing itself; a new quite contrary way of living, the Cries of Mothers, Wives and Children, the Visits of astonished and afflicted Friends, the Attendance of pale and blubbered Servants, a dark Room set round with hurning Tapers, our Beds environed with Physicians and Divines; in sum, nothing but Ghostliness and Horror round about us, render it so formidable, that a Man almost fancies himself dead and buried already. Children are afraid even of those they love best, and are best acquainted with, when disguised in a Vizor, and so are we; the Vizor must be removed as well from Things as Persons; which being taken away, we shall find nothing underneath but the very same Death that a mean Servant, or a poor Chambermaid, died a day or two ago, without any manner of Apprehension or Concern. Happy therefore is the Death that deprives us of the leisure to prepare things requisite for this unnecessary Pomp, a Pomp that only renders that more terrible which ought not to be feared, and that no Man upon Earth can possibly avoid.   

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

Lucret. l. 4.  Ut quasi transactis saepe omnibus rebus, profundant  
Fluminis ingentes fluctus vestemque cruentent.  
Who fancy gulling Lies, his inflamed Mind  
Lays his Love's Tribute there, where not designed.  
Although it be no new thing to see Horns grown in a Night on the Forehead of one that had none when he went to Bed; notwithstanding, what befell Cyppus, a noble Roman, is very r●●merable; who having one day been a very delig●●d Spectator of a Bull-baiting, and having all the night dreamt that he had Horns on his Head, did by the Force of Imagination, really cause them to grow there. Passion made the Son of Croesus to speak, who was born dumb, by that means supplying him with so necessary a Faculty, which Nature had denied him. And Antiochus sell into a Fever, inflamed with the Beauty of Stratonissa, too deeply imprinted in his Soul. Pliny pretends to have seen Lucius Cressitius, who from a Woman was turned into a Man upon her very Wedding day. Pontanus, and others, report the like Metamorphoses that in these latter days have happened in Italy, and through the vehement Desire of him and his Mother 
Ovid.  Vota puer s●lvit, quae foemina voverat Iphis. 
Iphis, a Boy, the Vow desrayed  
That he had promised when a Maid.   
Myself passing by Vitry le Francois, a Town in Champagne, saw a Man, the Bishop of Soissons had in Confirmation, called Germane, whom all the Inhabitants of the Place had known to be a Girl till two and twenty Years of Age, called Mary. He was at the time of my being there very full of Beard, Old, and not Married, who told us, that by straining himself in a Leap, his male Instruments came out; and the Maids of that Place have to this day a Song, wherein they advise one another not to take too great Strides, for fear of being turned into Men, as Mary German was. It is no wonder if this sort of Accident frequently happen; for if Imagination have any Power in such things, it is so continually and vigorously bend upon this Subject, that to the end it may not so often relapse into the same Thought, and Violence of Desire, it were better once for all to give these young Wenches the Things they long for. Some stick not to attribute the Scars of King Dagobert, and St. Francis, to the Force of Imagination; and it is said, that by it Bodies will sometimes be removed from their Places; and Celsus tells us of a Priest whose Soul would be ravished into such an Ecstasy, that the Body would, for a long time remain without Sense or Respiration. St. Augustine makes mention of another, who, upon the hearing of any lamentable or doleful Cries, would presently fall into a Swoon, and be so far out of himself, that it was in vain to call, hollow in his Ears, pinch, or burn him, till he voluntarily came to himself; and then he would say that he had heard Voices as it were a far off, and did feel when they pinched and burned him: and to prove that this was no obstinate Dissimulation in defiance of his Sense of Feeling, it was manifest, that all the while he had neither Pulse nor Breathing. 'Tis very probable, that Visions, Exchantments, and all Extraordinary Effects of that Nature, derive their Credit principally from the Power of Imagination, working and making its chiefest Impression upon vulgar and more easy Souls, whose Belief is so strangely imposed upon as to think they see what they do not. I am not satisfied, and make a very great Question, Whether those pleasant Ligatures with which this Age of ours is so fettered, and there is almost no other Talk, are not mere voluntary Impressions of Apprehension and fear; for I know by experience, in the Case of a particular Friend of mine, one for whom I can be as Responsible as for myself, and a Man that cannot possibly fall under any manner of Suspicion of insufficiency, and as little of being enchanted, who having heard a Companion of his make a Relation of an unusual Frigidity that surprised him at a very unseasonable time, being afterwards himself engaged upon the same Account, the Horror of the former Story on a sudden so strangely possessed his Imagination, that he ran the same Fortune the other had done; and from that time forward (the scurvy Remembrance of his Disaster running in his Mind, and tyrannising over him) was extremely subject to Relapse into the same Misfortune. He found some Remedy, however, for this Inconvenience, by himself frankly confessing, and declaring beforehand to the Party with whom he was to have to do, the Subjection he lay under, and the infirmity he was Subject to, by which means the Contention of his Soul was in some sort appeased; and knowing that now some such Misbehaviour was expected from him, the Restraint upon those Faculties grew less, and he less suffered by it, and afterwards, at such times as he could be in no such Apprehension, as not being about any such Act (his Thoughts being then disengaged and free, and his Body being in its true and natural Estate) by causing those Parts to be handled and communicated to the Knowledge of others, he was at last totally freed from that vexatious Infirmity. After a Man has once done a Woman right, he is never after in danger of misbehaving himself with that Person, unless upon the account of a manifest and inexcusable Weakness. Neither is this Disaster to be feared, but in Adventures where the Soul is over-extended with Desire or Respect, and especially where we meet with an unexpected Opportunity that requires a sudden and quick Dispatch; and in those Cases, there is no possible means for a Man always to defend himself from such a Surprise as shall put him damnably out of Countenance. And yet I have known some, who have secured themselves from this Mischance by coming half sated elsewhere, purposely to abate the ardour of his Fury; and others, who by being grown old, find themselves less impotent by being loss able; and particularly one, who found an Advantage by being assured by a Friend of his, that he had a Counter-charm against certain Enchantments that would defend him from this Disgrace. The Story itself is not much amiss, and therefore you shall have it. A Count of a very great Family, and with whom I had the Honour to be very familiarly intimate, being married to a very fair Lady, who 〈◊〉 formerly been pretended to, and importunately courted by one who was invited to, and present at the Wedding: all his Friends were in very great Fear, but especially an old Lady his Kinswoman, who had the ordering of the Solemnity, and in whose House it was kept, suspecting his Rival would, in Revenge, offer soul Play, and procure some of these kind of Sorceries to put a Trick upon him; which Fear she also communicated to me, who, to comfort her, bade her not trouble herself, but rely upon my Care to prevent or frustrate any such Designs. Now I had, by chance, about me a certain flat Plate of Gold whereon were graven some Celestial Figures good to prevent Frenzy occasioned by the Heat of the Sun, or for any Pains of the Head, being applied to the Suture; where, that it might the better remain firm, it was sowed to a Ribbon to be tied under the Chin. A Foppery Cousin-german to this of which I am speaking, was by Jaques Pelleti●r, who lived in my House, presented to me for a singular Rarety, and a thing of Sovereign Virtue. I had a fancy to make some use of this Knack, and therefore privately told the Count, that he might possibly run the same Fortune other Bridegrooms had sometimes done; especially some Persons being in the House, who no doubt would be glad to do him such a Courtesy, but let him boldly go to Bed, for I would do him the Office of a Friend, and if need were, would not spare a Miracle that it was in my Power to do, provided he would engage to me, upon his Honour, to keep it to himself, and only when they came to bring him his Caudle, 
A Custom in France to bring the Bridegroom a Caudle in the middle of the night, on his Wedding night.  if Matters had not gone well with him, to give me such a Sign, and leave the rest to me. Now he had his Ears so battered, and his mind so prepossessed with the eternal Tattle of this Business, that when he came to't he did really find himself tied with the Trouble of his Imagination, and accordingly at the time appointed gave me the Sign: Whereupon, I whispered him in the Ear, That he should rise under Pretence of putting us out of the Room, and after a jesting manner pull my Nightgown from my Shoulders; throw it over his own, and there keep it till he had performed what I had appointed him to do, which was, that when we were all gone out of the Chamber he should withdraw to make Water, should three times repeat such and such Words, and as often do such and such Actions: that at every of the three times he should tie the Ribbon I put into his Hand about his Middle, and be sure to place the Medal was fastened to it (the Figures in such a Posture) exactly upon his Reins, which being done, and having the last of the three times so well girt and fast tied the Ribbon that it could neither untie nor slip from its Place, let him confidently return to his Business, and withal not to forget to spread my gown upon the Bed, so that it might be sure to cover them both. These ridiculous Circumstances are the main of the Effect, our fancy being so far seduced, as to believe, that so strange and uncouth Formalities must of necessity proceed from some abstruse Science. Their inanity gives them Reverence and Weight. However, certain it is, that my Figures approved themselves more Venerean than Solar, and the fair Bride had no reason to complain. Now I cannot forbear to tell you, it was a sudden Whimsy, mixed with a little Curiosity, that made me do a thing so contrary to my Nature; for I am an Enemy to all subtle, and counterfeit Actions, and abominate all manner of Fraud, though it be but for sport; for though the Action may not be wicked in itself, yet 'tis done after a wicked manner. Amasis' King of Egypt, married Laodicea a marvellous beautiful Greek Virgin, who, though famous for his Abilities elsewhere found himself quite another Man with his Wife, and could by no means enjoy her; at which he was so enraged, that he threatened to kill her, suspecting her to be a Witch. As 'tis usually in things that consist in Fancy; she put him upon Devotion, who having accordingly made his Vows to Venus, he found himself divinely restored the very first Night after his Oblations and Sacrifices. Now in plain truth, Women are to blame, to entertain us with that disdainful, coy, and angry Countenance they commonly do, which extinguishes our Vigour, as it kindles our Desire; which made the Daughter-in-Law of Prthagoras to say, That the Woman who goes to Bed to a Man, must put of her Modesty with her Petticoat, and put it on again with the same. The Soul of the Assailant being disturbed with many several Alarms, is easily astonished, and soon loses the Power of Performance; and whoever the Imagination has once put this Trick upon and confounded with the Shame of it, (and she never does it but at the first Acquaintance, by reason Men are then More ardent and eager, and also at this first Account a Man gives of himself, he is much more timorous of miscarrying) having made an ill Beginning, he enters into such Indignations and Despite at the Accident, as will in following Opportunities be apt to remain, and continue him in the same Condition. As to what concerns Married People, having the Year before them (as we say) they ought never to compel, or so much as to offer at the Feat, if they do not find themselves very ready: and it is better indecently to fail of handselling the Nuptial Sheets, and of paying the Ceremony due to the Wedding-night, when a Man perceives himself full of Agitation and Trembling, expecting another opportunity at a better and more private Leisure, when his Fancy shall be better composed, than to make himself perpetually miserable for having misbehaved himself, and being baffled at the first Assault. Till possession be taken, a man that knows himself subject to this Infirmity, should leisurely and by degrees make several little trials and light offers, without obstinately attempting at once to force an absolute conquest over his own mutinous and indisposed Faculties; such as know their members to be naturally obedient to their desires, need to take no other care but only to counterplot their Fancy. The indocile and rude liberty of this scurvy Member, is sufficiently remarkable, by its importunate, unruly, and unseasonable tumidity and impatience, at such times as we have nothing for it to do, and by its more unseasonable stupidity and disobedience, when we stand most in need of his Vigour, so imperiously contesting the Authority of the Will, and with so much obstinacy denying all solicitation both of Hand and Fancy. And yet though his Rebellion is so universally complained of, and that proofs are not wanting to condemn him, if he had nevertheless feed me to plead his Cause, I should peradventure bring the rest of his fellow members into suspicion of complotting this mischief against him, out of pure envy at the importance, and ravishing pleasure particular to his Employment, so as to have by Confederacy armed the whole World against him, by malevolently charging him alone with their common offence. For let any one consider, whether there is any one Part of our Bodies that does not often refuse to perform its. Office at the Precept of the Will, and that does not often exercise its Function in defiance of her Command. They have every one of them proper Passions of their own, that rouse and awake, stupefy and benumb them, without our Leave or Consent. How often do the involuntary motions of the Countenance discover our inward Thoughts, and betray our most private Secrets to the Knowledge of the Standards by? The same Cause that animates this Member, does also, without our Knowledge, animate the Lungs, Pulse and Heart, the sight of a pleasing Object imperceptibly diffusing a Flame through all our Parts with a febrifick motion. Is there nothing but these Veins and muscles that swell, and flag without the Consent, not only of the Will, but even of our Knowledge also? We do not command our Hairs to stand on end, nor our Skin to shiver either with Fear or Desire. The Hands often convey themselves to Parts to which we do not direct them. The Tongue will be interdict, and the Voice sometimes suffocated when we know not how to help it. When we have nothing to eat, and would willingly forbid it, the Appetite of Eating and Drinking does not for all that forbear to stir up the Parts that are subjected to it, no more not less than the other Appetite we were speaking of, and in like manner does as unseasonably leave us. The Vessels that serve to discharge the Belly have their proper Dila●ations and Compressions, without, and beyond our Intelligence, as well as those which are destined to purge the Reins. And that which to justify the Prerogative of the Will, St. Augustine urges, of having seen a Man who could command his Backside to discharge as often together as he pleased, and that Vives does yet fortify with another Example in his time of one that could Fart, in Tune, does nothing suppose any more pure Obedience of that Part; for is any thing commonly more tumultuary or indiscreet? To which let me add, that I my se●f knew one so rude and ungoverned, as for forty Years together made his Master-Vent with one continued and unintermitted Hurricane, and 'tis like will do till he expire that way, and vanish in his own Smoke. And I could hearty wish, that I only knew by Reading, how oft a Man's Belly, by the Denial of one single Puff, brings him to the very door of an exceeding painful Death; and that the Emperor, who gave Liberty to let fly in all Places, had at the same time given us Power to do it. But for our Will, in whose behalf we prefer this Accusation, with how much greater Similitude of Truth may we reproach even her herself with Mutiny and Sedition for her Irregularity and Disobedience? Does she always will what we would have her to do? Does she not often will what we forbidden her to will, and that to our manifest Prejudice? Does she suffer herself any more than any of the other, to be governed and directed by the Results of our Reason? To conclude, I should move in the Behalf of the Gentleman, my Client, it might be considered, that in this Fact, his Cause being inseparably conjoined with an Accessary, yet he is only called in Question, and that by Arguments and Accusations that cannot be charged, nor reflect upon the other: whose Business indeed is sometimes inopportunely to invite, but never to refuse, and to allure after a tacit and clandestine manner; and therefore is the Malice and Injustice of his Accusers most manifestly apparent. But be it how it will, protesting against the proceed of the Advocates and Judges, Nature will, in the mean time, proceed after her own wav, who had done but well, if she had endowed this Member with some particular Privilege. The Author of the sole immortal Work of Mortals. A divine Work according to Socrates, and of Love, Desire of Immortality, and himself an immortal Daemon. Some one perhaps by such an Effect of Imagination may have had the good luck to leave 
* Videlicet the Pox  that behind him here in France, which his Companion who has come after, and behaved himself better, has carried back with him into Spain. And that you may see why Men in such cases require a mind prepared for the thing they are to do, why do the Physicians tamper with, and prepossess beforehand their Patient's credulity with many false promises of Cure, if not to the end, that the effect of imagination may supply the imposture and defect of their Apozem? They know very well, that a great Master of their Trade has given it under his hand, that he has known some with whom the very sight of a potion would work: which Examples of Fancy and Conceit come now into my head, by the remembrance of a story was told me by a domestic Apothecary of my Father's, a blunt Swiss (a Nation not much addicted to vanity and lying) of a Merchant he had long known at Tholouse, who being a valethdinary, and much afflicted with Fits of the Stone, had often occasion to take Clysters, of which he caused several sorts to be prescribed him by the Physicians, according to the accidents of his Disease: one of which being one time brought him, and none of the usual forms, as feeling if it were not too hot, and the like, being omitted, he was laid down on his Belly, the Syringe put up, and all Ceremonies performed, injection excepted; after which, the Apothecary being gone, and the Patient accommodated as if he had really received a Clyster, he found the same operation and effect that those do who have taken one indeed; and if at any time the Physician did not find the Operation sufficient, he would usually give him two or three more after the same manner. And the Fellow moreover swore to me, that to save charges (for he paid as if he had really taken them) this sick man's Wife, having sometimes made trial of warm Water only, the effect discovered the Cheat, and finding these would do no good, was fain to return to the old way. A Woman fancying she had swallowed a pin in a piece of Bread, cried out of an intolerable pain in her Throat, where she thought she felt it stick: but an ingenious Fellow that was brought to her, seeing no outward Tomour nor alteration, supposing it only to be conceit taken at some Crust of Bread that had hurt her as it went down, caused her to vomit, and cunningly, unseen, threw a crooked Pin into the Basin, which the Woman no sooner saw, but believing she had cast it up, she presently found herself eased of her pain. I myself knew a Gentleman, who having treated a great deal of good Company at his house, three or four days after bragged in jest (for there was no such thing) that he had made them eat of a baked Cat; at which, a young Gentlewoman, who had been at the Feast, took such a horror, that falling into a violent vomiting end a Fever, there was no possible means to save her. Even brute Beasts are also subject to the force of Imagination a well as we; as is seen by Dogs, who die of grief for the loss of their Masters, and are seen to quest, tremble, and start, as Horses will kick and whinney in their sleep. Now all this may be attributed to the affinity and relation betwixt the Souls and Bodies of Brutes, but 'tis quite another thing when the Imagination works upon the Souls of rational men, and not only to the prejudice of their own particular Bodies, but of others also. And as an infected Body communicates its Malady to those that approach, or live near it, as we see in the Plague, the small Pox, and sore Eyes that run through whole Families and Cities; 

Ovid. Amor. l. 2.  Dum spectant oculi laesos, laeduntur & ipsi:  
Multáque corporibus transitione nocent.  
Viewing sore eyes, eyes to be sore are brought,  
And many ills are by transition caught.  So the Imagination being vehemently agitated, darts out Infection capable of offending the stranger Object. The Ancients had an opinion of certain Women of Scythia, that being animated and enraged against any one, they killed them only with their looks: Tortoises and Ostriches hatch their Eggs with only looking on them, which infers, that their Eyes have in them some ejaculative virtue. And the Eyes of Witches are said to be dangerous and hurtful.  
Virg. Eclog. 3.  Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos. 
What Eye it is, I do not know,  
My tender Lambs bewitches so.  
Magicians are no very good Authority for me, but we experimentally see, that Women impart the Marks of their Fancy to the Children they carry in their Wombs; witness her that was brought to Bed of a Moor: and there was presented to Charles the Emperor, and King of Bohemia, a Girl from about Pisa, all over-rough and covered with Hair, whom her Mother said to be so conceived by reason of a Picture of St John Baptist, that hung within the Curtains of her Bed. It is the same with Beasts, witness Jacob's ringstreaked and spotted Goats, and Sheep, and the Hares and Partridges that the Snow turns white upon the Mountains. There was at my House a little while ago, a Cat seen watching a Bird upon the Top of a Tree, who for some time mutually fixing their Eyes upon one another, the Bird at last let herself fall as dead into the Cat's Claws, either dazzled and astonished by the Force of her own Imagination, or drawn by some attractive Power of the Cat. Such as are addicted to the Pleasures of the Field, have, I make no question, heard the Story of the Falconer, who having earnestly fixed his Eyes upon a Kite in the Air, laid a Wager, that he would bring her down with the sole Power of his Sight, and did so, as it was said; for the Tales I borrow, I charge upon the Consciences of those from whom I have them. The Discourses are my own, and found themselves upon the Proofs of Reason, not of Experience; to which every one has Liberty to add his own Examples: and who has none, (the Number and Varieties of Accidents considered) let him not forbear to believe that these I set down are enough: and if I do not apply them well, let some other do it for me. And also in the Subjects of which I treat, viz. of our Manners and Motions, the Testimonies and Instances I produce, how fabulous soever, provided they are possible, serve as well as the true; whether it has really happened or no, at Rome or at Paris, to Peter or John, 'tis still within the Verge of Possibility, and humane Capacity, which serves me to good use, and supplies me with Variety in the things I writ. I see, and make my Advantage of it as well in Shadow as in Substance; and amongst the various Examples I every where meet with in History, I cull out the most rare and memorable to fit my own Turn. There are some Authors whose only end and Design it is, to give an Account of things that have happened; mine, if I could arrive unto it, should be to deliver what may come to pass. There is a just Liberty allowed in the Schools, of supposing and contriving Similes, when they are at a Loss for them in their own Reading: I do not, however, make any use of that Privilege, and as to that Affair in superstitious Religion surpass all Historical Authority. In the Examples which I here bring in of what I have heard, read, done, or said, I have forbid myself to dare to alter even the most light and indifferent Circumstances; my Conscience does not falsify one Tittle, what my Ignorance may do I cannot say. And this it is that makes me sometimes enter into Dispute with my own Thoughts, whether or no, a Divine, or a Philosopher, Men of so exact and tender Wisdom and Conscience, are fit to write History: for, how can they stake their Reputation upon the Public Faith? how be responsible for the Opinions of Men they do not know? And with what Assurance deliver their Conjectures for Current Pay? Of Actions performed before their own Eyes, wherein several Persons were Actors, they would be unwilling to give Evidence upon Oath before a Judge; and cannot be so familiarly and thoroughly acquainted with any for whose Intentions they would become absolute Caution. For my part, I think it less hazardous to write things past, than present, by how much the Writer is only to give an Account of things every one knows he must of necessity borrow upon Trust. I am solicited to write the Affairs of my own Time by some who fancy I look upon them with an Eye less blinded with Prejudice, or Partiality, than another, and have a clearer Insight into them by reason of the free Access Fortune has given me to the Heads of both Factions; but they do not consider, that to purchase the Glory of Sallust, I would not give myself the Trouble, being a sworn Enemy as I am to all Obligation, Assiduity, and Perseverance: besides that, there is nothing so contrary to my Style, as a continued and extended Narrative, I so often Interrupt, and cut myself short in my Writing only for want of Breath. I have neither Fancy, nor Expression worth any thing, and am ignorant beyond a Child, of the Phrases, and even the very Words proper to express the most common things; and for that Reason it is, that I have undertaken to say only what I can say, and have accommodated my Subject to my Force. Should I take one to be my Guide, peradventure I should not be able to keep Pace with him, and in the Precipitancy of my Career might deliver Things, which upon better Thoughts, in my own Judgement, and according to Reason, would be criminal, and punishable in the highest degree Plutarch would tell us of what he has delivered to the Light, that it is the Work of others, that his Examples are all, and every where exactly true, that they are useful to Posterity, and are presented with a Lustre that will light us the way to Virtue, which was his Design: but it is not of so dangerous consequence as in a Medicinal Drug, whether an old Story be so or so.   

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

Lucret. l. 2  Nam quodcunque suis mutatum finibus exit,  
Continuo hoc mors est illius, quod fuit ante.  
For what from its own confines changed doth pass,  
Is strait the Death of what before it was.   

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

Lucret. l. 2.  Nil adeo magnum, nec tam mirabile quicquam  
Principio, quod non minuant mirarier omnes  
Paulatim.  
Nothing at first so great, so strange appears,  
Which by degrees, Use in succeeding Years  
Renders not more familiar.  
Taking upon me once to justify something in use amongst us, and that was received with absolute Authority for a great many Leagues round about us, and not content, as men commonly do, to establish it only by force of Law, and Example, but enquiring still farther into its Original, I found the foundation so weak, that I who made it my business to confirm others, was very near being dissatisfied myself. 'Tis by this Receipt that Plato undertakes to cure this unnatural and preposterous Love of his Time, which he esteems of sovereign Virtue; namely That the public Opinion condemns them; That the Poets, and all other sorts of Writers, relate horrible Stories of them. A Recipe, by virtue of which the most beautiful Daughters no more allure their Father's Lust; nor Brothers of the finest Shape and Fashion their Sister's desire. The very Fables of Thyestes, Oedypus, and Macareus, having with the Harmony of their Song infused this wholesome Opinion and Belief into the tender Brains of Infants. Chastity is in truth a great and shining Virtue, and of which the Utility is sufficiently known; but to govern, and prevail with it according to Nature, is as hard, as 'tis easy to do it according to Custom, and the Laws and precepts of sober Practice. The original and fundamental Reasons are of very obscure and difficult search, and our Masters either lightly pass them over, or not daring so much as to touch them, precipitate themselves into the Liberty and Protection of Custom; such as will not suffer themselves to be withdrawn from this original Source, do yet commit a greater Error, and submit themselves to wild and beastly Opinions; witness Chrysippus, who in so many of his Writings has strewed the little Account he made of incestuous Conjunctions committed with how near Relations soever. Whoever would disengage himself from this violent Prejudice of Custom, would find several things received with absolute and undoubting Opinion, that have no other Support than the hoary Head and riveled Face of ancient Use; and things being referred to the Decision of Truth and Reason, he will find his Judgement convinced and overthrown, and yet restored to a much more sure Estate. For Example, I shall ask him, what can be more strange than to see of People obliged to obey and pay a Reverence to Laws they never understood, and to be bound in all their Affairs, both of private and public Concern, as Marriages, Donations, Wills, Sales, and Purchases, to Rules they cannot possibly know, being neither writ nor published in their own Language, and of which they are of Necessity to purchase both the Interpretation and the Use? Not according to the ingenious Opinion of Socrates, who counselled his King to make the Trafficks and Negotriations of his Subjects, free, frank, and of Profit to them, and their Quarrels and Debates burdensome, and tart, and loaden with heavy Impositions and Penalties; but by a prodigious Opinion to make Sale of Reason itself, and to allow the Law a course of Traffic. I I think myself obliged to Fortune that (as our Historians report) it was a Gascon Gentleman, a Countryman of mine, who first opposed Charlemagne, when he attempted to impose upon us Latin and Imperial Laws. What can be more severe or unjust, than to see a Nation, where, by lawful Custom, the Office of a Judge is to be bought and sold, where Judgements are paid for with ready Money, and where Justice may legally be denied to him that has not wherewithal to pay; a Merchandise in so great Repute, as in a Government to serve a fourth Estate of wrangling Lawyers, to add to the three ancient ones of the Church, Nobility, and People; which fourth Estate, having the Laws in their hands, and sovereign Power over men's Lives and Fortunes, make another separate Body of Nobility: from whence it comes to pass, that there are double Laws, those of Honour, and those of Justice, in many things positively opposite to one another; the Nobles as ●gorously condemning a Lie taken, as the other do a Lie revenged: By the Law of Arms, he shall be degraded from all Nobility and Honour who puts up an Affront; and by the Civil Law, he who vindicates his Reputation by Revenge incurs a Capital Punishment: who applies himself to the Law for Reparation of an Offence done to his Honour, disgraces himself; and who does not, is censured and punished by the Law. Yet of these two so different things, both of them referring to one Head, the one has the Charge of Peace, the other of War; those have the Profit, these the Honour; those the Wisdom, these the Virtue; those the Word, these the Action; those Justice, these Valour; those Reason, these Force; those the long Robe, these the short divided betwixt them.  
For what concerns indifferent things, as clothes, who would debauch them from their true and real use, which is the Body's Service and Convenience, and upon which their original Grace and Decency depend, for the most fantastic, in my Opinion, that can be imagined: I will instance amongst others, our flat Caps, that long Tail of Velvet that hangs down from our women's Heads, and that lascivious and abominable model of a Member we cannot in Modesty so much as name, which nevertheless we shamefully strut withal in public. These Considerations notwithstanding will not prevail upon any understanding Man to decline the common Mode; but on the contrary, methinks all singular and particular Fashions are rather marks of Folly and vain Affectation, than of sound Reason, and that a wiseman ought within to withdraw and retire his Soul from the Crowd, and there keep it at Liberty, and in power to Judge freely of things; but as to this outward Garb and Appearance, absolutely to follow and conform himself to the Fashion of the Time. Public Society has nothing to do with our Thoughts, but the rest, as our Actions, our Labours, our Fortunes and our Lives, we are to lend and abandon them to the common Opinion and Public Service, as did that good and great Socrates who refused to preserve his Life by a Disobedience to the Magistrate, though a very wicked and unjust one: for it is the Rule of Rules, and the general Law of Laws, that every one observe those of the Place wherein he lives. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
The Country's Customs to observe,  
Is decent, and does Praise deserve.  Besides it is a very great doubt, whether an● so manifest Benefit and Advantage can accrue from the Alteration of a Law or Custom received, let it be what it will, as there is Danger and Inconvenience in doing it; forasmuch as Government is a Structure composed of several Parts and Members joined and united together, with so strict Affinity and Union, that it is almost impossible to stir so much as one Brick or Stone, but the whole Body will settle and be sensible of it. The Legislator of the Thurian● ordained, That whosoever would go about either to abolish old Laws, or to establish new, should present himself with a Halter about his Neck to the People; to the end, that if the Innovation he would introduce should not be approved by every one, he might immediately be hanged; and that of the Lacedæmonians made it the Business of his whole Life, to obtain from his Citizens a faithful Promise, that none of his Laws should be violated. The Ephorus who so rudely cut the two Strings that Phrynis had added to Music, never stood to examine whether that Addition made better Harmony, or that by that means the Instrument was more full and complete; it was enough to him to condemn the Invention, that it was a Novelty, and an Alteration of the old Fashion. Which also is the Meaning of the old rusty Sword carried before the Magistracy of Marcelles. For my own part, I have myself a very great Aversion for Novelty, what Face, or what Pretence soever it may carry along with it, and have reason, having been an Eye-witness of the great Inconveniences it has produced. A man cannot, I confess, truly say, That the Miseries, which for so many Years have lain 〈◊〉 heavy upon the Kingdom of France, are wholly occasioned by it; but a Man may say, and with colour enough, that it has accidentally produced and begot both the Mischiefs and Ruins that are since continued both without and against it, and is principally that we are to accuse for these Disorders.  
Ovid in Ep.  H●u patior telis vulnera facta meis. 
Alas? the Wounds I now endure  
Which my own Weapons did procure.  
They who give the first shock to a State, are voluntarily the first overwhelmed in its R●●ne; the Fruits of public Commotion are seldom enjoyed by him who was the first Motor, he only troubles the Water for another's Net, and beats the Bush whilst another gets the Hare. The Unity and Contexture of this Monarchy, having been manifestly in her old Age ripped and torn by this thing called Innovation, has since laid open a Rent, and given sufficient Admittance to the like Injuries in these latter Times. The Royal Majesty does with greater Difficulty stoop and debase itself from the height to the Middle, than it falls and tumbles headlong from the Middle to the Foundation. But if the Inventors did the greater mischief, the Imitators are more vicious, to follow Examples of which they have felt, and punished both the Horror and the Offence. And if there can be any degree of Horror in ill doing, these last are indebted to the other for the Glory of contriving, and the Courage of making the first Attempt. All sorts of new Disorder easily draw from this primitive and overflowing Fountain, Examples and Precedents to trouble and discompose our Government. We read in our very Laws made for the remedy of this first Evil, the Beginning and Pretences of all sorts of naughty Enterprises; and in favour of public Vices, give them new and more plausible Names for their Excuse sweetening and disguising their true Titles, which must be done to win forsooth, and reclaim us; Honesta oratio est, but the best Pretence for Innovation is of very dangerous Consequence; and freely to speak my Thoughts, it argues methinks a strange self Love, and a great Presumption of a Man's self, to be so fond of his own Opinions, that a public Peace must be overthrown to establish them, and to introduce so many inevitable Mischiefs, and so dreadful a Corruption of Manners, as a Civil War, and the Mutations of State consequent to it, always brings in its Train; and to introduce them in a thing of so high Concern, into the Bowels of a Man's own Country. Can there he worse Husbandry than to set up so many certain and detected Vices against Errors, that are only contested, and disputable whether they be such or no? And are there any worse sorts of Vices than those committed against a man's own Conscience, and the natural Light of his own Reason? The Senate, upon the Dispute betwixt it and the People about the Administration of their Religion, was bold enough to return this Evasion for current Pay: Ad Deos, id magis quàm ad se pertinere; ipsos visuros, ne sacra sua polluantur: That those things more belong to the Gods to determine, than to them; let them therefore have a care their sacred Mysteries were not profaned: according to that the Oracle answered to those of Delphos, who, fearing to be invaded by the Persians, in the Median War, enquired of Apollo, how they should dispose of the holy Treasure of his Temple, whether they should hid, or remove it to some other Place? He returned them Answer, that they should stir nothing from thence, and only take care of themselves, for he was sufficient to look to what belonged to him. Christian Religion has all the Marks of the utmost Utility and Justice: but none more manifest than the severe Injunction it lays indifferently upon all to yield absolute Obedience to the Civil Magistrate, and to maintain and defend the Laws: of which, what a wonderful Example has the Divine Wisdom left us, who to work and establish the Salvation of Mankind, and to conduct this his glorious Victory over Death and Sin, would do it after no other way, but at the Mercy of our ordinary forms of Justice, submitting the Progress and Issue of so high, and so salutiferous an Effect, to the blindness and injustice of our Customs and Observations, suffering the innocent Blood of so many of his Elect, and so long a loss of so many Years to the maturing of this inestimable Fruit? There is a vast difference betwixt the Cases of one that follows the Forms and Laws of his Country, and another that will undertake to regulate and change them; of which the first pleads Simplicity, Obedience, and Example for his Excuse, who, whatever he shall do, it cannot be imputed to Malice, 'tis at the worst but Misfortune. Quis est● enim, 
Cicero de Divin. l.  quem non moveat clarissimis monumentis testata, consignataque antiquitas? For who is it that Antiquity, sealed, and attested with so many glorious Monuments cannot move? Besides what Isocrates says, that Defect is nearer allied to Moderation than Excess. The other is a much more ruffling Gamester: for whosoever shall take upon him to choose, to alter, and usurp the Authority of judging, aught to look well about him, and make it his Business to discover the Defect of what he would abolish, and the virtue of what he is about to introduce. This so easy, and so vulgar consideration, is that which settled me in my Station, and kept even my most extravagant and ungoverned Youth under the rain, so as not to burden my Shoulders with so great a weight, as to render myself responsible for a Science of that importance; and in this to dare, what in my better and more mature Judgement, I durst not do in the most easy, and indifferent things I had been instructed, and wherein the temerity of judging is of no consequence at all. It seeming to me very unjust to go about to subject public and established Customs and Institutions, to the weakness, and instability of a private and particular Fancy, (for private Reason is but a private Jurisdiction) and to attempt that upon the Divine, which no Government will endure a Man should do upon the Civil Laws. With which, though humane Reason has much more Commerce, than with the other; yet are they sovereignly judged by their own proper Judges, and the utmost sufficiency, serves only to expound, and set forth the Law and Custom received, and neither to wrest it, nor to introduce any thing of Innovation. And if sometimes the Divine Providence have gone beyond the Rules, to which it has necessarily bound, and obliged us Men; it is not to give us any Dispensation to do the same; those are only master strokes of the Divine hand, which we are not to imitate, but admire, and extraordinary Examples, marks of purposed and particular Testimonies of Power, of the Nature of Miracles, presented before us for Manifestations of its Almighty Operation, equally above both our Rules and Forces, which it would be folly, and Impiety to attempt to represent and imitate; and that we ought not to follow, but to contemplate with the greatest Reverence and Astonishment. Arts proper for his Person who has Power to do them, and not for us Cotta very opportunely declares, that when Matter of Religion is in question, he will be governed by T. Corunconus, P. Scipio, P. Scaevola, who were the High Priests, and not by Zeno, Cleanthes, or Chrysippus, who where Philosophers. God knows in the present Quarrel of our Civil War, where there are a hundred Articles to dash out and to put in, and those great and very considerable ones too, how many there are who can truly boast, they have exactly and perfectly weighed and understood the Grounds and Reasons of the one and the other Party. 'Tis a Number (if it make any number) that would be able to procure us very little Disturbance: but what becomes of all the rest, under what Ensigns do they march, in what Quarter do they lie? Theirs have the same Effect with other weak and ill applied Medicines, they have only set the Humours they would Purge, more violently in working, stirred and exasperated them by the Conflict, and left them still behind. The Apozem was too weak to purge, but strong enough to weaken us; so that it does not work, but we keep it still in our Bodies, and reap nothing from the Operation but intestine Gripes and Dolours; so it is nevertheless, that Fortune still reserving her Authority in Defiance of whatever we are able to do or say, does sometimes present us with a Necessity so urgent, that 'tis requisite the Laws should a little yield, and give way; and when one opposes the Increase of ann Innovation that thus intrudes itself by Violence, to keep a Man's self in so doing in all Places, and in all things, within the Bounds and Rules prescribed, against those who have the Power, and to whom all things are lawful, that may any way serve to advance their Design, who have no other Law nor Rule but what serves best to their own Purpose; is a dangerous Obligation, and an intolerable Inequality.  Aditum nocendi perfido praestat fides. 

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

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

Lucan. l. 5. — stetit aggere fulti  
Cespitis, intrepidus vultu, meruitque timeri  
Nil metuens.  
Upon a Parapet of Turf he stood,  
His manly face with Resolution shone,  
And froze the Mutineers rebellious blood,  
Challenging fear from all by fearing none.  
But it is true withal, that this undaunted assurance is not to be represented in its true and lively form, but by such whom the apprehension of Death, and the worst that can happen, does no way terrify and affright; for to represent a pretended Resolution with a pale and doubtful Countenance, and trembling Limbs for the forced Service of an important Reconciliation, will effect nothing to purpose. 'Tis an excellent way to gain the Heart, and conquer the Will of another, to go submit, and intrust a man's Person to him, provided it appear to be frankly done, and without the constraint of necessity, and in such a condition, that a man manifestly does it out of a pure and entire confidence in the Party, at least with a Countenance clear from any Cloud of suspicion. I saw, when I was a Boy, a Gentleman, who was Governor of a great City, upon occasion of a Popular Commotion and Fury, not knowing what other course to take, go out of a Place of very great Strength and Security, and commit himself to the mercy of the seditious Rabble, in hopes by that means to appease the Tumult before it grew to a more formidable Head: but it was ill for him that he did so, for he was there miserably slain. But I am not nevertheless of opinion, that he committed so great an Error in going out, as Men commonly reproach this Memory withal, as he did in choosing a gentle and submissive way for the effecting his purpose, and in endeavouring to quiet this storm, rather by obeying than commanding, and by Entreaty rather than Remonstrance; and am inclined to believe, that a gracious Severity, with a Soldierlike way of commanding, full of Security, and confidence suitable to the Quality of his Person; and the Dignity of his Command, would have succeeded better with him; at least, he had perished with greater Decency and Reputation. There is nothing so little to be expected, or hoped for from this manyheaded Monster, when so incensed, as Humanity and good Nature; it is much more capable of Reverence and Fear. I should also reproach him, that having taken a Resolution (in my Judgement rather brave than rash) to expose himself weak and naked in this tempestuous Sea of enraged frantics; he ought boldly to have stemmed the Current, and to have born himself bravely aloft; whereas coming to discover his Danger nearer hand, and his Nose thereupon happening to bleed, he again changed that demiss and fawning Countenance he had at first put on, into another of Fear and Amazement, and filling both his Voice and Eyes with Entreaties and Tears, and in that Posture endeavouring to withdraw and secure his Person, that Carriage more inflamed their Fury, and soon brought the Effects of it upon him. It was upon a time in a certain Place ordered by some, who had not very good Meaning in it, that there should be a general Muster of several Troops in Arms (for that is the most proper Scene of scecret Revenges, and there is no Place where they can be executed with greater Safety) and there were public and manifest Appearances, that there was no safe coming for some, whose principal and necessary Office it was to view them. Whereupon a Consultation was called, and several Counsels were proposed, as in a case that was very nice, and of great Difficulty; and moreover, of important consequence. Mine, amongst the rest, was, that they should by all means avoid giving any sign of Suspicion, but that the Officers who were most in danger should boldly go, and with cheerful and erect Countenances ride boldly and confidently through the Files and Divisions, and that instead of sparing Fire (which the Counsels of the major part tended to) they should entreat the Captains to command the Soldiers to give round and full Volleys in Honour of the Spectators, and not to spare their Powder: which was accordingly done, and served to so good use, as to please and gratify the suspected Troops, and thenceforward to beget a mutual and wholesome Confidence and Intelligence amongst them. I look upon Julius Caesar's way of winning Men to him as the best, and most plausible, that can possibly be put in practice. First, he tried by Clemency to make himself beloved even by his very Enemies, contenting himself in detected Conspiracies, only publicly to declare, that he was pre-acquainted with them; which being done, he took a noble Resolution to expect, without Solicitude or Fear, whatever might be the Event, wholly resigning up himself to the Protection of the Gods and Fortune: for questionless in this very Estate he was at the time when he was killed. A Stranger having publicly said, that he could teach Dionysius the Tyrant of Syracuse an infallible way to find out and discover all the Conspiracies his Subjects should contrive against him, if he would give him a good Sum of Money for his Pains: Dionysius, hearing of it, caused the Man to be brought to him, that he might learn an Art so necessary to his Preservation; and having asked him by what Art he might make such Discoveries, the Fellow made Answer, That all the Art he knew, was, That he should give him a Talon, and afterwards boast that he had obtained a singular Secret from him. Dionysius liked the Invention, and accordingly caused fix hundred Crowns to be counted out to him. It was not likely he should give so great a Sum to a Person unknown, but upon the account of some extraordinary Discovery, the belief of which served to keep his Enemies in awe. Princes however do very wisely, to publish the Informations they receive of all the Practices against their Lives, to possess men with an opinion they have so good Intelligence, and so many Spies abroad, that nothing can be plotted against them, but they have present notice of it. The Duke of Athens did a great many ridiculous things to establish his new Tyranny over Florence: but this especially was most remarkable, that having received the first intimation of the Conspiracies the People were hatching against him, by Mattheo di Moroso, one of the Conspirators, he presently put him to death, to suppress that Rumour, that it might not be thought any of the City disliked his Government. I remember I have formerly read a Story of some Roman of great Quality, who, flying the Tyranny of the Triumvirate, had a thousand times, by the subtlety of as many Inventions, escaped from falling into the hands of those that pursued him. It happened one day, that a Troop of Horse which was sent out to take him, passed/ close by a Brake where he was sguat, and miss very narrowly of spying him: but he considering, upon the instant, the Pains and Difficulties wherein he had so long continued, to evade the strict and continual Searches were every day made for him, the little Pleasure he could hope for in such a kind of Life, and how much better it was for him to die once for all, than to be perpetually at this pass, he started from his Seat himself, called them back, showed them his Form, and voluntarily delivered himself up to their Cruelty, by that means to free both himself and them from further Trouble. To invite a man's Enemies to come and cut his Throat, was a Resolution that appears a little extravagant and odd; and yet I think he did better to take that course, than to live in a Quotidian Ague; and for which there was not Cure. But seeing all the Remedies a Man can apply to such a Disease, are full of Unquietness, and uncertain, 'tis better with a manly Courage to prepare one's self for the worst that can happen, and to extract some Consolation from this, That we are not certain the thing we fear will ever come to pass:   

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

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

Persus, Sat. 1.  Vos O patricius sanguis quos vivere par est  
Occipiti caeco, posticae occurrite sannae.  
O you Patrician bloods, whose Laws commend  
To have your Heads from retrospection blind,  
Take this poor counsel of a faithful Friend,  
Beware of having a Caldese behind.  
Whosoever shall narrowly pry into, and thoroughly sister this sort of People, wherewith the World is so pestered, will, as I have done, find, that for the most part, they neither understand others, nor themselves; and that their Memories are full enough, 'tis true, but the Judgement totally void and empty; some excepted, whose own Nature has of itself formed them into better fashion. As I have observed for Example in Adrianus Turnebus, 
Testimony of Adrianus Turnebus.  who having never made other profession, than that of mere Learning only, and in that, in my opinion, the greatest man that has been these thousand years, had nothing at all in him of the Pedant, but the wearing of his Gown, and a little exterior fashion, that could not be civilised to the Garb, which are nothing; and I hate our People, who can worse endure a Pedantic Mode, than an ill contrived Mind, and take their measures by the Leg a man makes, by his behaviour and so much as the very fashion of his Boots, what a kind of man he is. For within all this, there was not a more illustrious and polite Soul living upon Earth. I have often purposely put him upon Arguments quite wide of his Profession, wherein I found he had so clear an insight, so quick an apprehension, and so solid a Judgement: that a man would have thought he had never practised any other thing but Arms, and been all his life enployed in Affairs of State. And these are great and vigorous Natures.  

Juven Sat. 14. — Queis arte benigna,  
Et meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan.  
— With greater Art whose mind  
The Sun has made of Clay much more refined. that can keep themselves upright in defiance of a Pedantic Education. But it is not enough that our Education does not spoil us; it must moreover alter us for the better. Some of our Parliaments, when they are to admit Officers, examine only their Talon of Learning; to which some of the others also add the trial of Understanding, by ask their Judgement of some Case in Law, of which the latter methinks proceed with the better Method: for although both are necessary, and that it is very requisite they should be defective in neither, yet in truth, Knowledge is not so absolutely necessary as Judgement, and the last may make shift without the other, but the other never without this. For as the Greek Verse says.  

Menander in Gnom.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Learning is nothing worth, if Wit  
And Understanding be not joined with it.  
To what Use serves Learning, if the Understanding be away? Would to God, that, for the good of our Judicature, those Societies were as well furnished with Understanding and Conscience, as they are with Knowledge. Non Vitae, 
Sen. Epist. ●06.  sed Scholae discimus; We do not study for the service of our future Life, but only for the present use of the School. Whereas we are not to ●ie Learning to the Soul, but to work and incorporate them together; not to tincture it only, but to give it a thorough and perfect dye; which, if it will not take colour, and meliorare its imperfect state, it were without question better to let it alone. 'Tis a dangerous weapon, and that will endanger to wound its master, if put into an aukard, and unskilful hand: Ut fuerit melius non didicisse. So that it were better never to have learned at all. And this peradventure is the reason, why neither we, nor indeed Christian Religion, require much Learning in Women; and that Francis Duke of Britain, Son of John the Fifth (one being talking with him about his Marriage with Isabelle the Daughter of Scotland, and adding that she was homely bred, and without any manner of Learning) made answer, That he liked her the better, and that a Woman was wise enough, if she could distinguish her Husband's Shirt and his Doublet. So that it is no so great wonder, as they make of it, that our Ancestors had Letters in no greater Esteem, and that even to this day, they are but rarely met with in the Privy Councils of Princes; and if this End and Design of acquiring Riches (which is the only thing we propose to ourselves, by the means of Law, Physic, Pedantry, and even Divinity itself) did not uphold, and keep them in credit, you would without doubt see them as poor and unregarded as ever. And what loss would it be if they neither instruct us to think well, nor to do well? Postquam docti prodierunt, boni desinunt; After once they become Learned, they cease to be good. All other knowledge is hurtful to him, who has not the Science of Honesty and good Nature. But the reason I glanced upon but now, may it not also proceed from hence, that our Study, having almost no other Aim, but Profit, fewer of those, who by Nature are born to Offices and Employments, rather of Glory than Gain, addict themselves to Letters; or for so little a while (being taken from their Studies before they can come to have any taste of them, to a Procession that has nothing to do with Books) that there ordinarily remain no other to apply themselves wholly to Learning, but People of mean Condition, who in that only study to live, and have Preferment only in their Prospect; and by such People, whose Souls are both by Nature, and Education, and domestic Example, of the basest Metal and Alloy, the Fruits of Knowledge are both immaturely gathered, ill-digested, and delivered to their Pupils quite another thing. For it is not for Knowledge to enlighten a Soul that is dark of itself; nor to make a blind man to see. Her Business is not to find a man Eyes, but to guide, govern, and direct his steps, provided he have sound Feet, and strait Legs to go upon. Knowledge is an excellent Drug, but no Drug has virtue enough to preserve itself from Corruption and Decay, if the Vessel be tainted and impure wherein it is put to keep. Such a one may have a Sight clear and good enough, who looks a squint, and consequently sees what is good, but does not follow it, and sees Knowledge, but makes no use of it. Plato's principal Institution in his Republic is to fit his Citizens with Employments suitable to their Nature. Nature can do all, and does all. Cripples are very unfit for Exercises of the Body, and lame Souls for Exercises of the Mind. Degenerate and vulgar Souls are unworthy of Philosophy. If we see a Shoemaker with his Shoes out at the Toes, we say, 'tis no wonder; for, commonly, none go worse shod than their Wives and they. In like manner, Experience does often present us a Physician worse physick'd, a Divine worse reformed, and frequently, a Scholar of less Sufficiency than another. Ariosto of Chios had anciently Reason to say, That Philosophers did their Auditories harm, forasmuch as most of the Souls of those that heard them were not capable of making benefit of their Instructions, and if they did not apply them to good, would certainly apply them to ill: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ex Aristippi, acerbos ex Zenonis Schola exire. 
Cicero de Natu. Deo● l. 2.  They proceeded effeminate prodigals from the School of Aristippus, and Churls and Cynics from that of Zeno. In that excellent Institution that Xenophon attributes to the Persians, we find, that they taught their Children Virtue, as other Nations do Letters. Plato tells us, that the eldest Son in their Royal Succession, was thus brought up; so soon as he was born he was delivered, not to Women, but to Eunuches of the greatest Authority about their Kings for their Virtue, whose Charge it was to keep his Body healthful, and in good plight; and after he came to seven Years of Age, to teach him to ride, and to go a Hunting: when he arrived at fourteen he was transferred into the hands of four, the wisest, the most just, the most temperate, and most valiant of the Nation; of which, the first was to instruct him in Religion, the second to be always upright and sincere, the third to conquer his Appetites and Desires, and the fourth to despise all Danger. 'Tis a thing worthy of very great Consideration, that in that excellent, and, in truth, for its Perfection, prodigious form, and civil Regiment set down by Lycurgus, though solicitous of the Education of Children, as a thing of the greatest Concern, and even in the very Seat of the Muses, he should make so little mention of Learning; as if their generous Youth, disdaining all other Subjection, but that of Virtue only, aught to be supplied, instead of Tutors to read to them Arts and Sciences, with such Masters, as should only instruct them in Valour, Prudence, and Justice. An Example that Plato has followed in his Laws; the manner of whose Discipline was to propound to them Questions upon the Judgement of Men, and of their Actions; and if they commended or condemned this or that Person, or Fact, they were to give a Reason for so doing: by which means they at once sharpened their Understanding, and became skilful in the Laws. Mandane, in Xenophon, ask her Son Cyrus how he would do to learn Justice, and the other Virtues amongst the Medes, having left all his Masters behind him in Persia? He made Answer, That he had learned those things long since; that his Master had often made him a Judge of the Differences amongst his Schoolfellows, and had one day whipped him for giving a wrong Sentence; and thus it was. A great Boy in the School, having a little short. Cassock, by force took a longer from another that was not so tall as he, and gave him his own in exchange: whereupon, I being appointed Judge of the Controversy, gave Judgement, That I thought it best either of them should keep the Coat he had, for that they both of them were better fitted with that of one another than with their own: upon which, my Master told me, I had done ill, in that I had only considered the Fitness and Decency of the Garments, whereas I ought to have considered the Justice of the thing, which requires that no one should have any thing forcibly taken from him that is his own. But it seems poor Cyrus was whipped for his Pains, as we are in our Villages, for forgetting the first Aorist of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: my Pedant must make me a very learned Oration, in genere demonstrativo, before he can persuade me, that his School is like unto that. They knew how to go the readiest way to work; and seeing that Science, when most rightly applied, and best understood, can do no more but teach us Prudence, moral Honesty, and Resolution they thought fit to initiate their Children with the knowledge of Effects, and to instruct them, not by Hear-say, and by Rote, but by the Experiment of Action, in lively forming and moulding them; not only by Words and Precepts, but chief Works and Examples; to the end it might not be a Knowledge of the Mind only, but a Complexion and a Habit: and not an Acquisition, but a natural Possession. One ask to this Purpose, Agesilaus, what he thought most proper for Boys to learn? What they ought to do when they come to be Men, said he. It is therefore no wonder, if such an Institution have produced so admirable Effects. They used to go, 'tis said, in the other Cities of Greece, to inquire out Rhetoricians, Painters, and Musick-Masters; but in Lacedaemon Legislators, Magistrates, and Generals of Armies; at Athens they learned to speak well, and here to do well; there to disengage themselves from a sophistical Argument, and to unravel Syllogisms, here to evade the Baits and Allurements of Pleasure, and with a noble Courage and Resolution to confute and conquer the menaces of Fortune and Death; those cudgelled their Brains about Words, these made it their Business to inquire into things; there was an eternal Babble of the Tongue, here a continual Exercise of the Soul. And therefore it is nothing strange, if, when Antipater demanded of them fifty Children for Hostages, they made Answer, quite contrary to what we should do, That they would rather give him twice as many full grown Men, so much did they value the loss of their Country's Education. When Agesilaus courted Xenophon to send his Children to Sparta to be bred, It is not, said he, there to learn Logic or Rhetoric, but to be instructed in the noblest of all Sciences, namely, the Science to Obey, and to Command. It is very pleasant to see Socrates, after his manner, rallying Hippias, who recounts to him what a World of Money he has got, especially in certain little Villages of Sicily, by teaching School, and that he got never a Penny at Sparta. What a Sottish and stupid People (says Socrates) are they, without Sense or Understanding, that make no Account either of Grammar, or Poetry, and only busy themselves in studying the Genealogies and Successions of their Kings, the Foundations, Rises, and Declensions of States, and such Tales of a Tub! After which, having made Hippias particularly to acknowledge the Excellency of their Form of Public Administration, and the Felicity and Virtue of their Private Life, he leaves him to guests at the Conclusion he makes of the Inutilities of his Pedantic Arts. Examples have Demonstrated to us, that in Military Affairs, and all others of the like Active Nature, the Study of Sciences does more soften and untemper the Courages of Men, that any way fortify and incite them. The most Potent Empire, that at this Day appears to be in the whole World, is that of the Turks, a People equally inclined to the Estimation of Arms, and the Contempt of Letters. I find, Rome was more Valiant before she grew so Learned; and the most Warlike Nations at this time in Being, are the most ignorant: of which, the Scythians, Parthians; and the great Tamerlane, may serve for sufficient Proof. When the Goths overran Greece, the only thing that preserved all the Libraries from the Fire, was that some one possessed them with an Opinion, that they were to leave this kind of Furniture entire to the Enemy, as being most proper to divert them from the Exercise of Arms, and to fix them to a lazy and sedentary Life. When our King Charles the Eighth, almost without striking a Blow, saw himself possessed of the Kingdom of Naples, and a considerable part of Tuscany, the Nobility about him attributed this unexpected Facility of Conquest to this, that the Princes and Nobles of Italy, more studied to render themselves ingenious and learned, than vigorous and warlike.   

CHAP. XXV.  
Of the Education of Children. To Madam Diana of Foix, Countess of Gurson.  
I Never yet saw that Father, but let his Son be never so decrepit, or deformed, would notwithstanding own him: nevertheless, if he were not totally besotted, and blinded with this Paternal Affection, that he did not well enough discern his Defects: but that all Defaults notwithstanding, he is still his. Just so do I, I see better than any other, that all I writ are but the idle Whimsies of a Man that has only nibbled upon the outward Crust of Sciences in his Nonage, and only retained a general and formless Image of them, who have got a little snatch of every thing, and nothing of the whole a la mode de France: For I know in general, that there is such a thing as Physic, a knowledge in the Laws, four Parts in Mathematics, and, in part, what all these aim and point at; and peradventure I yet know farther, what Sciences in general pretend unto, in order to the Services of Humane Life: but to dive farther than that, and to have cudgelled my Brains in the study of Aristotle, the Monarch of all Modern Learning; or particularly addicted myself to any one Science, I have never done it; neither is there any one Art of which I am able to draw the first Lineaments and dead colour; insomuch that there is not a Boy of the lowest Form in a School, that may not pretend to be wiser than I, who am not able to pose him in his first Lesson, which if I am at any time forced upon, I am necessitated in my own defence, to ask him some Universal Questions, such as may serve to try his natural Understanding; a Lesson as strange and unknown to him, as his is to me. I never seriously settled myself to the reading any Book of solid Learning, but Plutarch and Seneca; and there, like the Danaides, I eternally fill, and it as constantly runs out; something of which drops upon this Paper, but very little or nothing stays behind. History is my delight, as to matter of Reading, or else Poetry, for which I have I confess, a particular kindness and esteem: for, as Cleanthes said, as the Voice, forced through the narrow passage of a Trumpet, comes out more forcible and shrill; so, methinks, a Sentence couched in the Harmony of Verse, darts more briskly upon the understanding, and strikes both my Ear and Apprehension with a smarter, and more pleasing Power. As to the Natural Parts I have, of which this is the Essay, I find them to how under the burden; my Fancy and Judgement do but grope in the dark, trip and stumble in their way, and when I have gone as far as I can, I discover still a new and greater extent of Land before me, but with a troubled and imperfect sight, and wrapped up in Clouds, that I am not able to penetrate. And taking upon me to write indifferently of whatever comes into my Head, and therein making use of nothing but my own proper and natural Force and Ammunition, if it befell me, as ofttimes it does, accidentally to meet in any good Author, the same Heads and Common-places upon which I have attempted to write, (as I did but a little before in Plutarch's Discourse of the Force of Imagination) to see myself so weak and so forlorn, so heavy, and so flat, in comparis on of those better Writers, I at once pity and despise myself. Yet do I flatter, and please myself with this, that my Opinions have often the honour and good fortune to jump with theirs, and that I follow in the same Path, though at a very great distance; I am farther satisfied to find, that I have a Quality, which every one is not blest withal, which is, to discern the vast difference betwixt them and me; and notwithstanding all that, suffer my own Inventions, low, and contemptible as they are, to run on in their Career, without mending or plastering up the Defects that this Comparison has laid open to my own View; and in plain Truth, a Man had need of a good strong Back to keep Pace with these People. The indiscreet Scribblers of our Times, who amongst their laborious Nothings, insert whole Sections, Paragraphs, and Pages, out of Ancient Authors, with a Design by that means to illustrate their own Writings, do quite contrary; for this infinite Dissimilitude of Ornaments renders the Complexions of their own Compositions, so pale, sallow and deformed, that they lose much more than they get. The Philosophers, Chrysippus and Epicurus, were, in this, of too quite contrary Humours; for the first did not only in his Books mix the Passages and Say of other Authors, but entire Pieces, and in one the whole Medea of Euripides; which gave Apollodorus occasion to say, That should a Man pick out of his Writings all that was none of his, he would leave him nothing but blank Paper: whereas the latter, quite contrary, in three hundred Volumes that he left behind him, has not so much as any one Quotation. I happened the other day upon this Piece of Fortune; I was reading a French Book, where after I had a long time run dreaming over a great many Words, so dull, so insipid, so void of all Wit, or common Sense, that indeed they were only words; after a long and tedious travel, I came at last to meet with a piece that was lofty, rich, and elevated to the very Clouds: of which, had I found either the Declivity easy, or the Ascent accessible, there had been some excuse; but it was so perpendicular a Precipice, and so wholly cut off from the rest of the Work, that by the six first words I found myself flying into the other World, and from thence discovered the Vale from whence I came so deep and low, that I had never since the Heart to descend into it any more. If I should set out my Discourses with such rich Spoils as these, the Plagiary would be too manifest in his own Defects, and I should too much discover the imperfection of my own Writing. To reprehend the fault in others, that I am guilty of myself, appears to me no more unreasonable, than to condemn, as I often do, those of others in myself. They are to be every where reproved, and aught to have no Sanctuary allowed them. I know very well how imprudently I myself at every turn attempt to equal myself to my thefts, and to make my style go hand in hand with them, not without a temerarious hope of deceiving the eyes of my Reader from discerning the difference; but withal, it is as much by the benefit of my Application, that I hope to do it, as by that of my Invention, or any Force of my own. Besides, I do not offer to contend with the whole Body of these Champions, nor hand to hand with any one of them, 'tis only by slights and little light attempts that I engage them; I do not grapple with them, but try their strength only, and never engage so far as I make a show to do; and if I could hold them in play, I were a brave Fellow; for I never attaque them, but where they are most sinewy and strong. To cover a man's self (as I have seen some do) with another man's Arms, so as not to discover so much as their finger's ends; to carry on a Design (as it is not hard for a Man that has any thing of a Scholar in him, in an ordinary Subject to do) under old Inventions, patched up here and there with his own Trumpery: and then to endeavour to conceal the theft, and to make it pass for his own, is first injustice, and meanness of Spirit in whoever do it, who having nothing in them of their own fit to procure them a Reputation, endeavour to do it by attempting to impose things upon the World in their own Name, which they have really no manner of title to; and then a ridiculous Folly to content themselves with acquiring the ignorant approbation of the Vulgar by such a pitiful Cheat, at the Price at the same time of discovering their insufficiency to men of Understanding, who will soon smell out and trace them in those borrowed Allegories, and from whom alone they are to expect a legitimate Applause. For my own part, there is nothing I would not sooner do than that, neither have I said so much of others, but to get a better Opportunity to excuse myself: neither in this do I in the least glance at the Composers of Cento's, who declare themselves for such; of which sort of Writers, I have in my time known many very ingenious, and have their Rhapsodies in very great Esteem, and particularly one, under the Name of Capilulus, besides the Ancients. These are really Men of Wit, and that make it appear they are so, both by that and other ways of Writing; as for Example, Lipsius, in that learned and laborious Contexture of his Politics. But, be it how it will, and how inconsiderable soever these Essays of mine may be, I will ingeniously confess, I never intended to conceal them, no more than my old bald grizzled Picture before them, where the graver has not presented you with a perfect Face, but the Resemblance of mine. And these also are but my own particular. Opinions and Fancies, and I deliver them for no other, but only, what I myself believe, and not for what is really to be believed. Neither have I any other end in this Writing, but only to discover myself, who also shall peradventure be another thing tomorrow, if I chance to meet any Book, or Friend, to convince me in the mean time. I have no Authority to be believed, neither do I desire it being too conscious of my own inerudition to be able to instruct others.  
A Friend of mine then having read the precedent Chapter, the other day told me, that I should a little longer have insisted upon the Education of Children; and farther have extended my Discourse upon so necessary a point: which, how fit I am to do, let my Friends slatter me if they please, I have in the mean time no such Opinion of my own Talon, as to promise myself any very good success from my endeavour; but (Madam) if I had any sufficiency in this Subject, I could not possibly better employ it, than to present my best Instructions to the little Gentleman that threatens you shortly with a happy Birth; (for you are too generous to begin otherwise than with a male) for having had so great a hand in the treaty of your Marriage, I have a certain particular right and interest in the greatness and prosperity of the Issue that shall spring from it; besides that, you having had the best of my Services so long in possession, does sufficiently oblige me to desire the Honour and Advantage of all wherein you shall be concerned. But, in truth, all I understand as to that particular is only this, that the greatest and most important difficulty of Humane Science is the Education of Children. For as in Agriculture, the Husbandry that is to precede planting, as also Planting itself, is certain, plain, easy, and very well known; but after that which is planted comes to take root, to spread, and shoot up, there is a great deal more to be done, more Art to be used, more care to be taken, and much more difficulty to cultivate and bring them to Perfection: so it is with Men; it is no hard matter to get Children; but after they are born, then gins the Trouble, Solicitude, and Care, virtuously to train, principle, and bring them up. The Symptoms of their Inclinations in that young and tender Age are so obscure, and the Promises so uncertain and fallacious, that it is very hard to establish any solid Judgement or Conjecture upon them. As Simon, for Example, and Themistocles, and a thousand others, who have very much deceived the little Expectation the World had of them: Cubs of Bears, and Bitch's Puppies, do truly and indeed discover their natural Inclination; but Men, so soon as ever grown up, immediately applying themselves to certain Habits, engaging themselves in certain Opinions, and conforming themselves to particular Laws and Customs, do easily alter, or at least disguise their true and real Disposition. And yet it is hard to force the Propension of Nature; whence it comes to pass, that for not having chosen the right Course, a Man often takes very great Pains, and consumes good part of his Age in training up Children to things, for which, by their natural Aversion, they are totally unfit. In this Difficulty, nevertheless, I am clearly of Opinion, that they ought to be elemented in the best and most advantageous Studies, without taking too much notice of, or being too superstitious in those light Prognostics they give of themselves in their tender Years; to which Plato, in his Republic, gives, methinks, too much Authority. But (Madam) Science is doubtless a very great Ornament, and a thing of marvellous use, especially in Persons raised to that degree of Fortune you are; and in truth, in Persons of mean and low Condition, cannot perform its true and genuine Office, being naturally more prompt to assist in the Conduct of War, in the Government of Armies and Provinces, and in negotiating the Leagues and Friendships of Princes and foreign Nations, than in forming a Syllogism in Logic, in pleading a Process in Law, or in prescribing a Dose of Pills in Physic. Wherefore, Madam, believing you will not omit this so necessary Embellishment in the Education of your Posterity, who yourself have tasted the Fruits of it, and are of a Learned extraction (for we yet have the Writings of the ancient Counts of Foix, from whom my Lord, your Husband and yourself are both of you descended, and Monsieur de Candale, your Uncle, does every day oblige the World with others, which will extend the knowledge of this Quality in your Family so many succeeding Ages) I will upon this occasion presume to acquaint your Ladyship with one particular Fancy of my own, contrary to the common Method, which also is all I am able to contribute to your Service in this Affair. The charge of the Tutor or Governor you shall provide for your Son, upon the choice of whom depends the whole Success of his Education, has several other great and considerable Parts and Duties required in so important a Trust, besides that of which I am about to speak, which however I shall not mention, as being unable to add any thing of moment to the common Rules, that every one who is qualified for a Governor is perfect in: and also in this wherein I take upon me to advise, he may follow it so far only as it shall appear rational and conducing to the end at which he does aim and intent.  
For a Boy of Quality then, who pretend● to Letters not upon the account of Profit, (for so mean an Object as that is unworthy of the grace and favour of the Muses; and moreover, in that a man directs his Service to and professes to depend upon others) nor so much for outward ornament, as for his own proper and peculiar use, and to furnish and enrich himself within, having rather a Desire to go out an accomplished Cavalier, and a fine Gentleman, than a mere Scholar, and a Learned Man; for such a one, I say, I would also have his Friends solicitous to find him out a Tutor, who has rather an Elegant than a Learned Head, and both, if such a Person can be found; but however, to prefer his Manners and his Judgement before his Reading, and that this Man should pursue the Exercise of his Charge after a new method. 'Tis the Custom of Schoolmasters, to be eternally thundering in their Pupils Ears, as they were pouring into a Funnel, whilst their Business is only to repeat what the other have said before: Now I would have a Tutor to correct this Error, and that at the very first, he should according to the Capacity he has to deal with, put it to the Test, permitting his Pupil himself to taste and relish things, and of himself to choose and discern them sometimes opening the way to him, and sometimes making him to break the Ice himself; that is, I would not have him alone to invent and speak, but that he should also hear his Pupil speak in turn. Socrates, and since him Arc●stlaus, made first their Scholars speak, 
Cic. de. Nat. Deor. l. 1.  and then they spoke to them. Obest plerumque iis qui discere volunt, authoritas eorum qui docent; The Authority of those who teach, is very oft an impediment to those who desire to learn. It is good to make him, like a young Horse, trot before him that he may judge of his going and how much he is to abate of his own Speed, to accommodate himself to the Vigour and Capacity of the other. For want of which due proportion, we spoil all; which also to know how to adjust, and to keep within an exact and due measure is one of the hardest things I know, and an effect of a judicious and well-tempered Soul, to know how to condescend to his Puerile Motions, and to govern and direct them. I walk firmer, and more secure up hill than down, and such as according to our common way of Teaching undertake, with one and the same Lesson and the same measure of direction, to instruct several Boys of so differing and unequal Capacities, are infinitely mistaken in their Method; and at this rate, 'tis no wonder, if in a multitude of Scholars, there are not found above two or three who bring away any good account of their Time and Discipline. Let the Master not only examine him about the Grammatical Construction of the bare words of his Lesson, but of the sense and meaning of them, and let him judge of the Profit he has made, not by the testimony of his Memory, but by that of his Understand. Let him make him put what he hath learned into an hundred several Forms, and accommodate it to so many several Subjects, to see if he yet rightly comprehend it, and have made it his own, taking instruction by his progress from the Institutions of Plat● 'Tis a sign of Crudity and Indigestion to vomit up what we eat in the same condition it was swallowed down, and the Stomach has not performed its office, unless it have altered the form and condition of what was committed to it to concoct: so our minds work only upon trust, being bound and compelled to follow the Appetite of another's Fancy, enslaved and captivated under the Authority of another's Instruction, we have been so subjected to the Tramel, that we have no free, nor natural Pace of our own, our own Vigour and Liberty is extinct and gone. Nunquam tutelae suae fiunt; 
Sen. Ep. 33.  They are ever in Wardship, and never left to their own Tuition. I was privately at Pisa carried to see a very honest man; but so great an Aristotelian, that his most usual Thesis was, That the Touchstone and Square of all solid, Imagination, and of the Truth, was an absolute conformity to Aristotle's Doctrine; and that all besides was nothing but Inanity and Chimaera; for that he had seen all, and said all. A Position, that for having been a little too injuriously, and maliciously interpreted, brought him first into, and afterwards long kept him in great trouble in the Inquisition at Rome. Let him make him examine, and thoroughly sift every thing he reads, and lodge nothing in his Fancy upon simple Authority, and upon trust. Aristotle's Principles will then be no more Principles to him, than those of Epicurus and the Stoics: only let this Diversity of Opinions be propounded to, and laid before him, he will himself choose, if he be able; if not he will remain in doubt.  
Dante inferno, Canto 12.  Che non menche saper dubiar m' aggrada I love sometimes to doubt, as well as know. 
For if he embrace the Opinions of Xenophon and Plato, by maintaining them, they will no more be theirs, but become his own. Who follows another, follows nothing, finds nothing, nay is inquisitive after nothing. Non sumus sub Rege, sibi quisque se vindicet; Let him at least know, that he knows. It will be necessary that he imbibe their knowledge, not that he be corrupted with their Precepts; and no matter if he forget where he had his Learning, provided he know how to apply it to his own Use; Truth and Reason are common to every one, and are no more his who spoke them first, than his who speaks them after. 'Tis no more according to Plato, than according to me, since both he and I equally see and understand them. Bees cull their several Sweets from this Flower, and that Blossom, here and there where they find them, but themselves after make the Honey, which is all, and purely their own, and no more Time and Margerum: so the several Fragments he borrows from others, he will transform and suffle together to compile a Work that shall be absolutely his own; that is to say, his Judgement, his Instruction, Labour, and Study, tend to nothing else but to incline, and make him capable so to do. He is not obliged to discover whence he had his Ammunition, but only to produce what he has himself composed. Men that live upon Rapine, and borrowing, expose their Purchases and Buildings to every one's knowledge and view: but do not proclaim how they came by the Money. We do not see the Fees, and Perquisites belonging to the Function and Offices of a Gentleman of the long Robe; but we see the Noble Alliances wherewith he fortifies himself and his Family, and the Titles and Honours he has obtained for him and his. No man divulges his Revenue; or at lest which way it comes in: but every one publishes his Purchases, and is content the World should know his good Condition. The Advantages of our Study are to become better and more wise. 'Tis (says Epicharmus) the Understanding that sees and hears, 'tis the Understanding that improves every thing, that order every thing, and that acts, rules, and reigns: all other Faculties are blind, and deaf, and without Soul; and certainly, we render it timorous and servile, in not allowing it the Liberty and P●●vilege to do any thing of itself. Who ever asked his Pupil what he thought of Grammar and Rhetoric, or of such and such a Sentence of Cicero? Our Master's dart and stick them full feathered in our Memories, and there establish them like Oracles, of which the very Letters and Syllables are of the substance of the thing. To know by rote, is no Knowledge, and signifies no more but only to retain what one has entrusted to his Memory. That which a man rightly knows and understands, he is the free Disposer of at his own full Liberty, without any regard to the Author from whence he had it, or fumbling over the Leaves of his Book. A mere Bookish Learning is both troublesome and ungraceful; and though it may serve for some kind of Ornament, 
What true Philosophy is, according to Plato.  there is yet no Foundation for any Superstructure to be built upon it, according to the Opinion of Plato, who says, that Constancy, Faith, and Sincerity, are the true Philosophy, and the other Sciences, that are directed to other ends, to be adulterate and false. I could wish, that P●lu●l or Pompey, the two famous Dancing Masters of my Time, could have taught us to cut Capers, by only seeing them do it, without stirring from our Places, as these men pretend to inform the Understanding, without ever setting them to work; or that we could learn to Ride, handle a Pike, touch a Lute, or Sing, without the trouble of Practice, as these attempt to make us Judge, and Speak well, without exercising us in Judging and Speaking. Now in this Initiation of our Studies, and in the Progress of them, whatsoever presents itself before us is Book sufficient: a Roguy Trick of a Page, a sottish Mistake of a Servant, or a Jest at the Table, are so many new Subjects. And for this very Reason, Conversation with men is of very great use, and Travel into Foreign Countries of singular Advantage; not to bring back (as most of our young Monsieurs do) an account only of how many Paces Santa Rotonda is in Circuit; or of the Richness of Signiora Livia's Attire; or, as some others, how much Nero's Face, in a Statue in such an old Ruin, is longer and broader than that made for him at such another Place: but to be able chief to give an Account of the Humours, Manners, Customs, and Laws of those Nations where he has been. And, that we may whet and sharpen our Wits by rubbing them upon those of others. I would that a Boy should be sent abroad very young (and principally to kill two Birds with one Stone) into those neighbouring Nations whose Language is most differing from our own, and to which, if it be not formed betimes, the Tongue will be grown too stiff to bend. And also 'tis the general Opinion of all, that a Child should not be brought up in his Mother's Lap. Mother's are too tender, and their natural Affection is apt to make the most discreet of them all so overfond, that they can neither find in their Hearts to give them due Correction for the Faults they commit, nor suffer them to be brought up in those Hardsh'ps and Hazards they ought to be. They would not endure to see them return all Dust and Sweat from their Exercise, 
Fondness of Mother's pernicious to Education.  to drink cold Drink when they are hot, nor see them mount'an un●uly Horse, nor take a Foil in hand against a rude Fencer, or so much as to discharge a Carbine. and yet there is no Remedy; whoever will breed a Boy to be good for any thing when he comes to be a Man, must by no means spare him, even when so young, and must very often transgress the Rules of Physic:  

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

Propert. l. 4. Eleg. 39  Quae Tellus sit l●nta gelu, quae putris ab aestu,  
Ventus in Italiam quis bene vela ferat.  
What Countries to the Bear objected lie,  
What with the Dog-star Heats are parched and dry,  
And what Wind fairest serves for Italy.  
Let him inquire into the Manners, Revenues, and Alliances of Princes, things in themselves very pleasant to learn, and very useful to know. In this Conversing with Men, I mean, and principally those who only live in the Records of History, he shall by reading those Books, 
Reading History.  converse with those great and heroic Souls of former and better Ages. 'Tis an idle and vain Study I confess, to those who make it so, by doing it after a negligent manner, but to those who do it with care and Observation, 'tis a study of inestimable Fruit and value; and the only one, as Plato reports, the Lacedæmonians. reserved to themselves. What profit shall he not reap as to the Business of Men, by reading the Lives of Plutarch? But withal, let my Governor remember to what end his Instructions are principally directed, and that he do not so much imprint in his Pupils Memory, the date of the Ruin of Carthage, as the manners of Hannibal and Scipio; nor so much where Marcellus died, as why it was unworthy of his Duty that he died there. That he do not teach him so much the Narrative part, as the Business of History. The reading of which, in my Opinion, is a thing that of all others we apply ourselves unto with the most differing, and uncertain Measures. I have read an hundred things in Livy that another has not, or not taken notice of at least, and Plutarch has read an hundred more there than ever I could find, or than peradventure that. Author ever Writ. To some it is merely a Grammar Study, to others the very Anatomy of Philosophy, by which the most secret, and abstruse parts of our humane Nature are penetrated into. There are in Plutarch many long 
Elegy of Plutarch.  Discourses very worthy to be carefully read and observed, for he is, in my Opinion, of all other, the greatest Master in that kind of Writing; but withal, there are a thousand others which he has only touched, and glanced upon, where he only points with his Finger to direct us which way we may go if we will, and contents himself sometimes with giving only one brisk hit in the nicest Article of the Question; from whence we are to grope out the rest: as for Example, where he says, That the Inhabitants of Asia came to be Vassals to one only, for not having been able to pronounce one Syllable, which is, No. Which Saying of his, gave perhaps matter and occasion to Boetius to write his Voluntary Servitude. Even this but to see him pick out a light Action in a man's Life, or a Word, that does not seem to be of any such Importance, is itself a whole Discourse. 'Tis to our Prejudice that men of Understanding should so immoderately affect Brevity; no doubt but their Reputation is the better by its but in the mean time we are the worse. Plutarch had rather we should applaud his Judgement, than commend his Knowledge, and had rather leave us with an Appetite to read more, than glutted with that we have already read. He knew very well, that a Man may say too much even upon the best Subjects, and that Alexandrides did justly reproach him who made very elegant, but two long Speeches to the, Ephori, when he said. O Stranger! that speakest the things thou oughtest to speak; but not after the manner that thou● shouldst speak them. Such as have lean and spare Bodies stuff themselves out with clothes; so they who are defective in Matter, endeavour to make amends with Words. Humane understanding is marvellously enlightened by daily Conversation with men, for we are otherwise of ourselves so stupid as to have our Sight limited to the length of our own Noses. One ask Socrates of what Country he was, he did not make Answer of Athens, but of the World; he whose Imagination is better levelled, could carry further, embraced the whole World for his Country, and extended his society and Friendship to all Mankind; not as we do, who look no further ' than our Feet. When the Vines of our Village are nipped with the Frost, the Parish Priest presently concludes, that the indignation of God is gone out against all Humane Race, and that the Cannihals have already got the Pip. Who is it, that seeing the bloody Havoc of these Civil Wars of ours, does not cry out, That the machine of the World is near Dissolution, and that the Day of Judgement is at hand; without considering, that many worse Revolutions have been seen, and that, in the mean time, People are very merry in a thousand other Parts of the Earth for all this? For my Part, considering, the Licence and Impunity that always attend such Commotions, I admire they are so moderate, and that there is more Mischief done. To him that feels the Hailstones p●●ter about his Ears, the whole Hermisphear o●pears to be in Storm and Tempest; like the ridiculous Saveyard, who said very gravely. That if that simple King of France could have marraged his Fortune as he should have done, he might in time have come to have been Steward of the Household to the Duke his Master: the Fellow could not, in his shallow Imagination, conceive that there could be any thing greater than a Duke of Savoy. And in truth we are all of us insensibly in this Error, an Error of a very great Train, and very pernicious Consequence. But whoever shall represent to his Fancy, as in a Picture, that great Image of our Mother Nature, portrayed in her full Majesty and Lustre, whoever in her Face shall read so general and so constant a Variety, whoever shall observe himself in that Figure, and not himself but a whole Kingdom, no bigger than the least Touch or Prick of a Pendl in comparison of the whole, that man alone is able to value things according to their true Estimate and Grandeur. This great World which some do yet multiply as several Species under one Genus, is the Mirror wherein we are to behold ourselves, to be able to know ourselves as we ought to do. In short, I would have this to be the Book my young Gentleman should study with the most Attention; for so many Humours, so many Sects, so many Judgements, Opinions, Laws, and Customs, teach us to judge a right of our own, and inform our Understandings to discover their Imperfection and natural Infirnity, which is no trivial Speculation. So many Mutations of States and Kingdoms, and so many Turns and Revolutions of public Fortune, will make us wise enough to make no great wonder of our own. So many great Names, so many famous Victories and Conquests drowned and swallowed in Oblivion, render our Hopes ridiculous of eternising our Names by the taking of half a score light Horse, or a paltry Turret, which only derives its Memory from its Ruin. The Pride and Arrogancy of so many foreign Pomps and Ceremonies, the tumorous Majesty of so many Courts and Grandeurs, accustom and fortify our Sight without Astonishment to behold and endure the lustre of our own. So many millions of men buried before us, encourage us not to fear to go seek so good Company in the other World: and so of all the rest. Pythagoras was wont to say, That our Life retires to the great and Populous Assembly of the Olympic Games, wherein some exercise the Body, that they may carry away the Glory of the Prize in those Contentions, and others carry Merchandise to sell for profit. There are also some (and those none of the worst sort) who pursue no other Advantage than only to look on, and consider how, and why every thing is done, and to be unactive Spectators of the Lives of other men, thereby the better to judge of, and to regulate their own; and indeed, from Examples, all the Instruction cou●●'d in Philosophical Discourses; may naturally flow, to which all humane Actions, as to their best Rule, aught to be especially directed: where a Man shall be taught to know. 

Persius, Sat. 3. — Quid fas optare, quid asper  
Utile nummus habet, patriae charisque propinquis  
Quantum elargiri deceat, quem te Deus esse  
Jussit, & humana qua parte locatus es in re,  
Quid sumus, aut quidnam victuri gignimu●.  
What he may wish, what's Money's natural use,  
What to be liberal is, and what profuse,  
What God commands an honest Man should be,  
And here on Earth to know in what Degree  
That God has placed thee, what we are, and why,  
He gave us Being, and Humanity.  What it is to know, and what to be ignorant, what ought to be the End and Design of Study, what Valour, Temperance, and Justice are, the difference betwixt Ambition and Avarice, Servitude and Subjection, Licence and Liberty, by what token a Man may know the true and solid Contentation, how far Death, Affliction, and Disgrace, are to be apprehended. 
〈◊〉. Aen. l. 6.  Et quo quemque modo fugiatque feratque laborem. 
And which way every one may know  
Labour t'avoid or undergo.  By what secret Springs we move, and the Reason of our various Agitations and Irresolutions: for methinks the first Doctrine with which one should season his Understanding, aught to be that which regulates his Manners and his Sense; that teaches him to know himself, and how both well to die, and well to live. Amongst the Liberal Sciences, let us begin with that that makes us free; not that they do not all serve in some measure to the Instruction and Use of Life, as all other things in some sort also do; but let us make choice of that which directly and professedly serves to that end. If we are once able to restrain the Offices of Humane Life within their just and natural Limits, we shall find that most of the Sciences in use are of no great use to us, and even in those that are, that there are many very unnecessary. Cavities and Dilatations which we were better to let alone, and following Socrates his Direction, limit the Course of our Studies to those things only where a true and real Utility and Advantage are to be expected and found.  

Horat. l. 1. Epist. 2. — Sapere aude,  
Incipe vivendi, qui rectè prorogat horam,  
Rusticus expectat dum defluat ammis, at ille  
Labitur, & labetur in omne volubilis aevum.  
Dare to be wise; begin, who to their wrong,  
The Hour of living well defer too long,  
Like Rustic Fools, sit with a patiented Eye  
Expecting when the murmuring Brook runs dry,  
Whose Springs can, never fail, till the last Fire  
Lick up the Ocean, and the World expire.  
'Tis a great foolery to teach our Children 

Propert. l. 4. Eleg. 1.  Quid moveant Piscis, animosaque signa Leonis,  
Lotus, & Hesperia quid Capricornus aqua.  
What influence Pisces have, o'er what the ray,  
Of angry Leo bears the greatest sway,  
Or Capricornus province, who still laves  
His threatening Forehead in the Hesperian Waves.  the Knowledge of the Stars and the Motion of the eighth Sphere, before their own.  

Anacreon Ode 17.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
How swift the seven Sister's Motions are,  
Or the dull Churls how flow, what need I care.  
Anaximenes' writing to Pythagoras, To what purpose, said he, should I trouble myself in searching out the Secrets of the Stars having Death or Slavery continually before my Eyes? For the Kings of Persia were at that time preparing to invade his Country. Every one ought to say the same, Being assaulted, as I am by Ambition, Avarice, Temerity, and Superstition, and having within so many other Enemies of Life, shall I go cudgel my Brains about the World's Revolutions? After having taught him what will make him more wise and good, you may then entertain him with the Elements of Logic, Physic, Geometry, and Rhetoric, and the Science which he shall then himself most incline to, his Judgement being beforehand formed and fit to choose, he will quickly make his own. The Way of instructing him aught to be sometimes by Discourse, and sometimes by reading, sometimes his Governor shall put the Author himself, which he shall think most proper for him, into his Hands, and sometimes only the Marrow and Substance of it; and if himself be not conversant enough in Books to turn to all the fine Discourses the Book contains, there may some Man of Learning be joined to him, that upon every occasion shall supply him with what he desires, and stands in need of, to recommend to his Pupil. And who can doubt, but that this way of teaching is much more easy and natural, than that of Gaza? In which thy precepts are so intricate, and so hash, and the Words so vain, lean, and insignificant, that there is no hold to be taken of them, nothing that quickens and elevates the Wit and Fancy, whereas here the Mind has what to feed upon and to digest: this Fruit therefore is not only without comparison, much more fair and beautiful; but will also be much more early, and ripe. 'Tis a thousand pities, that Masters should be at such a pass in this Age of ours, that Philosophy, even with Men of Understanding, should be looked upon as a vain, and fantastic Name, a thing of no use, no value, either in Opinion or Effect, of which I think these lousy Ergotisms, and little Sophistry, by prepossessing the Avenues unto it, are the cause. And People are much to blame to represent it to Children for a thing of so difficult access, and with such a frowning, grim, and formidable aspect: who has disguised it thus, with this false, pale, and ghostly Countenance? There is nothing more airy, more gay, more frolic, and I had like to have said, more wanton. She preaches nothing but Feasting and Jollity; a melancholic thoughtful look shows that she does not inhabit there. Demetrius the Grammarian finding in the Temple of Delphos a Knot of Philosophers set chatting together, said to them, Either I am much deceived, or by your cheerful and pleasant Countenances, you are engaged in no very deep Discourse. To which one of them, Heracleon the Magician, replied, 'Tis for such as are puzzled about enquiring whether the future Tense of the Verb 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, be spelt with a double 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or that hunt after the Derivation of the Comparatives 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the Superlatives 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to knit their Brows whilst discoursing of their Science: but as to Philosophical Discourses, they always divert and cheer up those they entertain, and never deject them or make them sad.  

Juven. Stat 9  Deprendas animi tormenta latentis in aegro  
Corpore, deprendas, & gaudia, sumit utrumque  
Ind habitum facies.  
Th' internal Anguish of a sick Man's mind  
Your Eye may soon discern, and also find  
The Joys of those in better Health that are,  
For still the Face does the Minds Livery wear.  
The Soul that entertains Philosophy, aught to be of such a Constitution of Health, as to render the Body in like manner healthful too; she ought to make her Tranquillity and Satisfaction shine so as to appear without, and her Contentment ought to fashion the outward Behaviour to her own Mould, and consequently to fortify it with a graceful Confidence, an active Carriage, and with a serene and contented Countenance. 
Cheerfulness a sign of Wisdom.  The most manifest sign of Wisdom is a continual Cheerfulness; her Estate is like that of things in the Regions above the Moon, always clear and serene. 'Tis Baraco and Baralipton that render their Disciples so dirty and ill favoured, and not she; they do not so much as know her but by Hear-say. It is she that calms and appeases the Storms and Tempests of the Soul, and who teaches Famine and Fevers to laugh and sing; and that, not by certain imaginary Epicycles, but by natural and manifest Reasons. She has Virtue for her end; which is not, as the Schoolmen say, situate upon the summity of a perpendicular Rock, and an inaccessible Precipice. Such as have approached her, find it quite contrary, to be seated in a fair, fruitful, and flourishing Plain, from whence she easily discovers all things subjected to her; to which Place any one may however arrive, if he know but the easiest and the nearest way, through shady, green, and sweetly flourishing Walks and Avenues, by a pleasant, easy, and smooth Descent, like that of the Celestial Arches. 'Tis for not having frequented this supreme, this beautiful, triumphant, and amiable, this equally delicious and courageous Virtue, this so professed and implacable Enemy to Anxiety, Sorrow, Fear and Constraint, who, having Nature for her Guide, has Fortune and Pleasure for her Companions, that they have gone according to their own weak Imagination, and created this ridiculous, this sorrowful, querulous, despiteful, threatening, terrible Image of it to themselves and others, and placed it upon a solitary Rock amongst Thorns and Brambles, and made of it a Hobgoblin to fright people from daring to approach it. But the Governor that I would have, that is such a one as knows it to be his Duty to possess his Pupil with as much or more Affection than Reverence to Virtue, will be able to inform him, that the Poets have evermore accommodated themselves to the Public Humour, and make him sensible, that the Gods have planted more Toil and Sweat in the Avenues of the Cabinets of Venus, than those of Minerva, which, when he shall once find him begin to apprehend, and shall represent to him a Bradamanta or an Angelica for a Mistress, a natural, active, generous, and not a mankind, but a manly Beauty, in comparison of a soft, delicate, artificial, simpering, and affected form; the one disguised in the Habit of an Heroic Youth, with her beautiful face set out in a glittering Helmet, the other tricked up in Curls and Ribbons like a wanton Minx; he will then look upon his own affection as brave and Masculine, when he shall choose quite contrary to that Effeminate Shepherd of Phrygia. Such a Tutor will make a Pupil to digest this new Doctrine, that the height and value of true Virtue consists in the Facility, Utility, and Pleasure of its Exercise; so far from Difficulty, that Boys, as well as Men, and the innocent as well as the subtle, may make it their own; and it is by Order and good Conduct, and not by Force, that it is to be acquired. Socrates, her first Minion, is so averse to all manner of Violence, as totally to throw it aside, to slip into the more natural Facility of her own Progress: 'Tis the Nursing-Mother of all humane Pleasures, who in rendering them just, renders them also pure and permanent; in moderating them, keeps them in Breath and Appetite; in interdicting those which she herself refuses, whets our Desire to those that she allows; and, like a kind and liberal Mother, abundantly allows all that Nature requires, even to Satiety, if not to Lassitude; unless we will declaim, That the Regiment of Health stops the Toper's Hand before he hath drank himself Drunk, the Gluttons before he hath eaten to a Surfeit, and the Whoremaster's Career before he have got the Pox, is an Enemy to Pleasure. If the ordinary Fortune fail, and that she meet with an indocile Disposition, she passes that Disciple by, and takes another, not so fickle and unsteady as the other, which she forms wholly her own. She can be Rich, be Potent and Wise, and knows how to lie upon soft Down, and perfumed Quilts too: she loves Life, Beauty, Glory, and Health; but her proper and peculiar Office is to know regularly how to make use of all these good things, and how to part with them without Concern: an Office much more noble than troublesome, and without which the whole Course of Life is unnatural, turbulent, and deformed; and there it is indeed, that Men may justly represent those Monsters upon Rocks and Precipices. If this Pupil shall happen to be of so cross and contrary a Disposition that he had rather hear a Tale of a Tub than the true Narrative of some noble Expedition, or some wise and learned Discourse; who at the Beat of Drum, that excites the youthful Ardour of his Companions, leaves that to follow another that calls to a Morris or the Beats, and who would not wish, and find it more delightful, and more pleasing, to return all Dust and Sweat victorious from 〈◊〉 Battle, than from Tennis, or from a Ball, with the Prize of those Exercises; I see no other Remedy, but that he be bound Apprentice in some good Town to learn to make mined Pies, though he were the Son of a Duke, according to Plato's Precept, That Children are to be placed out, and disposed of, not according to the Wealth, Qualities, or Condition of the Father, but according to the Faculties and the Capacity of their own Soul. But since Philosophy is that which instructs us to live, and that Infancy has there its Lessons as well as other Ages, why is it not communicated to Children betimes? And why are they not more early initiated in it?  

Pers. Sat. 3.  Udum, & molle lutum est, nunc, nunc properandus, & acri  
Fingendus sine fine rota.  
The Clay is moist and soft, now, now make haste,  
And form the Pitcher, for the Wheel turns fast.  
They begin to teach us to live when we have almost done living. A hundred Students have got the Poxbefore they have come to read Aristotle's Lecture of Temperance. Cicero said, that though he should live two men's Ages, he should never find leisure to study the Lyric Poets; and I find these Sophisters yet more deplorably unprofitable. The Boy we would breed has a great deal less time to spare; he owes but the first fifteen or sixteen Years of his Life to Discipline, the Remainder is due to Action: let us therefore employ that short time in necessary instruction. Away with the Logical Subtleties, they are Abuses, things by which our Lives can never be amended: take me the plain Philosophical Discourses, learn first how rightly to choose, and then rightly to apply them, they are more easy to be understood than one of Bocace his Novels; a Child from Nurse is much more capable of them, 
Aristotle's method of Instructing Alexander the Great.  than of learning to read or to write. Philosophy has Discourses equally proper for Childhood, as for the decrepit Age of Men; and I am of Plutarch's mind, that Aristotle did not so much trouble his great Disciple with the Knack of forming Syllogisms, or with the Elements of Geometry, as with infusing into him good Precepts concerning Valour, Prowess, Magnanimity, Temperance, and the Contempt of Fear; and with this Ammunition, sent him, whilst yet a Boy, with no more than 30000 Foot, 4000 Horse, and but 42000 Crowns to subjugate the empire of the whole Earth. For the other Arts and Sciences, Alexander says, he highly indeed commended their Excellency and Quaintness, and had them in very great Honour and Esteem, but not ravished with them to that degree, as to be tempted to affect the Practice of them in his own Person.  

Vers. Sat. 5. — Petite hinc juvenesque, senesque  
Finem animo certum, miserique viatica canis.  
Young men, and old, from hence yourselves befriend,  
For both your Minds, with some sure aim and end;  
And both therein against the time to come,  
Wretched old Age, get a Viaticum.  
Epicurus, in the beginning of his Letter to Meniceus, says, that neither the youngest should refuse to Philosophise, nor the eldest grow weary of it: and who does otherwise, seem tacitly to imply, that either the time of living happily is not yet come, or that it is already past: and yet for all that, I would not have this Pupil of ours imprisoned, and made a Slave to his Book; nor would I have him given up to the Morosity, and melancholic Humour, of a sour, ill-natured Pedant. I would not have his Spirit cowed and subdued, by applying him to the Rack, and tormenting him as some do, 14 or 15 Hours a day, and so make a Packhorse of him. Neither should I think it good, when, by reason of a solitary and melancholic Complexion, he is discovered to be much addicted to his Book, to nourish that Humour in him, for that renders them unfit for Civil Conversation, and diverts them from better Employments. And how many have I seen in my time totally brutified by an immoderate Thirst after Knowledge? Carneades was so besotted with it, that he would not find time so much as to comb his Head, or to pair his Nails; neither would I have his generous Manners spoiled and corruptted by the Incivility and Barbarity of those of another. The French Wisdom has anciently been turned into Proverb, Early, but of no Continuance; and in truth, we yet see, that nothing can be more ingenious and pretty than the Children of France; but they ordinarily deceive the Hope and Expectation hath been conceived of them; and grown up to be men, have nothing extraordinary, or worth taking notice of. I have heard men of good Understanding say, these Colleges of ours to which we send our young People (and of which we have but too many) make them such Animals as they are. But to our little Monsieur, a Closet, a Garden, the Table, his Bed, Solitude and Company, Morning and Evening, all Hours shall be the same, and all Places to him a Study; for philosophy, who as the Formatrix of Judgement and Manners, shall be his principal Lesson, has that privilege to have a hand in every thing. The orator Isocrates, being at a Feast entreated to speak of his Art, All the Company were satisfied with, and commended his Answer; It is not now a time, said he, to do what I can do; and that which it is now time to do, I cannot do, For to make Orations and Rhetorical Disputes in a Company met together to laugh and make good cheer, had been very unseasonable and improper, and as much might have been said of all the other Sciences: But as to what concerns Philosophy, that part of it at least that treats of Man, and of his Offices and Duties, it has been the joint Opinion of all wise men, that, out of respect to the sweetness of her Conversation, she is ever to be admitted in all Sports and Entertainments. And Plato, having invited her to his Feast, we shall see after how gentle and obliging a manner, accommodated both to Time and Place, she entertained the Company, though in a Discourse of the highest and most important nature. 

Horat. l. 1. Epist. 1.  Aequè pauperibus prodest, locupletibus aequè,  
Et neglecta aequè pueris, senibusque nocebit.  
It profits poor and rich alike, but when  
Neglected, t' old and young as hurtful then.  By which method of Instruction, my young Pupil will be much more, and better employed than those of the College are: but as the steps we take in walking to and fro in a Gallery, though three times as many, do not tyre a man so much as those we employ in a formal Journey, so our Lesson, as it were accidentally occurring, without any set obligation of Time or Place, and falling naturally into every action, will insensibly insinuate itself. By which means our very Exercises and Recreations, Running, Wrestling, Music, Dancing, Hunting, Riding, and Fencing, will prove to be a good part of our study. 
Behaviour.  I would have his outward fashion and mien, and the disposition of his Limbs formed at the same time with his Mind. 'Tis not a Soul, 'tis not a Body that we are training up, but a man, and we ought not to divide him. And, as Plato says, we are not to fashion one without the other, but make them draw together like two Horses harnessed to a Coach. By which Saying of his, does he not seem to allow more time for, and to take more care of Exercises for the Body, 
Exercises.  and to believe that the Mind in a good Proportion does her Business at the same time too? As to the rest, this Method of Education ought to be carried on with a severe sweetness quite contrary to the Practice of our Pedants, who, 
Severity an Enemy to Education.  instead of tempting and alluring Children to Letters by apt and gentle ways, do in truth present nothing before them but Rods and Ferula's, Horror and Cruelty. Away with this Violence! away with this Compulsion! than which, I certainly believe nothing more dulls and degenerates a well-descended Nature. If you would have him apprehend shame and chastisement, do not harden him to them. Inure him to Heat and Cold, to Wind and Sun, and to Dangers that he ought to despise. Wean him from all effeminacy, and delicacy in clothes and Lodging, Eating and Drinking; accustom him to every thing, that he may not be a Sir Paris, a Carpet-Knight, but a sinewy, hardy, and vigorous young man. I have ever from a Child to the age wherein I now am, been of this opinion, and am still constant to it. But amongst other things, the strict Government of most of our Colleges has evermore displeased me, and peradventure they might have erred less perniciously on the indulgent side. 'Tis the true House of Correction of Imprisoned youth. They are taught to be debauched, by being punished before they are so. Do but come in when they are about their Lesson, and you shall hear nothing but the out-cries of Boys under execution, with the thund ring noise of their Pedagogues, drunk with Fury, to make up the Consort. A very pretty way this! to tempt these tender and timorous Souls to love their Book, with a furious Countenance, and a Rod in hand! A cursed and pernicious way of Proceeding! Besides what Quintilian has very well observed, that this insolent Authority is often attended by very dangerous Consequences, and particularly our way of Chastising. How much more decent would it be to see their Classes strewed with green Leaves and fine flowers, than with the bloody Stump of Birch and Willows? Were it left to my ordering, I should paint the School with the Pictures of Joy and Gladness; Flora, and the Graces, as the Philosopher Speusippus did his; that where their Profit is, they might there have their Pleasure too. Such Viands as are proper and wholesome for Children, should be seasoned with Sugar, and such as are dangerous to to them, with Gall. A Man should admire to see how solicitous Plato is in his Laws concerning the Gaiety and Diversion of the Youth of his City, and how much he enlarges himself upon their Races, Sports, Songs, Leaps, and Dances; of which, he says, that Antiquity has given the ordering and Patronage particularly to Apollo, Minerva, and the Muses. He insists long upon, and is very particular in giving innumerable Precepts for Exercises; but as to the Lettered Sciences, says very little, and only seems particularly to recommend Poesy upon the Account of Music. All Singularity in our Manners and Conditions, is by all means to be avoided as inconsistent with civil Society. Who would not be astonished at so strange a Constitution as that of Demophon, Steward to Alexander the Great, who sweat in the Shade, and shivered in the Sun? I have seen those who have run from the smell of a mellow Apple with greater Precipitation than from a Harquebus Shot; others run away from a Mouse; others vomit at the sight of Cream; others ready to swoon at the sight of a Cat, as Germanicus, who could neither endure the Sight nor the Crowing of a Cock. I will not deny, but that there may peradventure be some occult Cause and natural Aversion in these Cases; but certainly a Man might conquer it, if he took it in time. Precept has in this wrought so effectually upon me, though not without some Endeavour on my part, I confess, that Beer accepted, my Appetite accommodates its self indifferently to all sorts of Diet. Young Bodies are supple, one should therefore in that Age bend and ply them to all Fashions and Customs: and provided a Man can contain the Appetite and the Will within their due limits, let a Youngman, a God's Name, be rendered fit for all Nations and all Companies, even to Debauchery and Excess if occasion be; that is, where he shall do it out of Complacency to the Customs of the Place. Let him be able to do every thing, but love to do nothing but what is good. The Philosophers themselves do not justify calisthenes for forfeiting the Favour of his Master Alexander the Great, by refusing to pledge him a Cup of Wine. Let him laugh, play and drink with his Prince: nay I would have him, even in his Debauches, too hard for the rest of the Company, and to excel his Companions in Ability and Vigour, and that he may not give over doing it, either thorought Defect of Power or Knowledge how to do it, but for want of Will. Multum interest, 
Seneca. Epist. 60.  utrum peccare quis nolit, aut nesciat; There is a vast Difference betwixt forbearing to sin, and not knowing how to sin. I thought I passed a Compliment upon a Lord, as free from those Excesles as any man whatever in France, by ask him before a great deal of very good Company, how many times in his Life he had been drunk in Germany, in the time of his being there about his Majesty's Affairs; which he also took as it was intended, and made Answer, Three times. and withal, told us the whole Story of his Debauches. I know some; who for want of this Faculty, have found a great Inconvenience by it in negotiating, with that Nation. I have often with great Admiration reflected upon the wonderful Constitution of Alcibiades, who so easily could transfrom himself to so various Fashions without any Prejudice to his Health; one while outdoing the Persian Pemp and Luxury, and another, the Lacedaemonian Austerity and Frugality, as reformed in Sparta, as voluptuous in jonia.  
Horat. l. 1. Epist. 17.  Omnis Aristippum decuit colour, & status, & res. 
All Shapes and Colours you can Name  
Aristippus well became.  
I would have my Pupil to be such a one,  

Id. Ibid. — Quem duplici panno patientia velat,  
Mirabor vitae via si conversa decebit,  
Personamque feret non inconcinnus utramque.  
Whom Patience in patched clothes does meanly shade,  
Where a new Fortune a new Suit has made,  
I shall admire if gracefully he can  
Th' old Beggar hid in the new Gentleman.  
These are my Lessons, and he who puts them in Practice shall reap more advantage than he who has had them read to him only, and only knows them. If you see him, you hear him: if you hear him, you see him. God forbidden, says one in Plato, that to Philosophise were only to read a great many Books, and to learn the Arts. 
Cic. Tusc. 4.  Hanc amplissimam omnium artium bene vivendi disciplinam, vita magis quam literis persecuti sunt. They have more illustrated and improved this Discipline of living well, which of all Arts is the greatest, by their Lives, than by their Reading. Leo, Prince of the Phliasians, ask Heraclides Ponticus of what Art or Science he made Profession; I know, said he, neither Art nor Science, but I am a Philosopher. One reproaching Diogenes, that being ignorant, he should pretend to Philosophy; I therefore, answered he, pretend to it with so much the more reason. Hegesias entreated that he would read a certain Book to him; you are pleasant, said he, you choose those Figs that are true and natural, and not those that are painted; why do you not also choose Exercises which are naturally true, rather than those written and prescribed? A Man cannot so soon get his Lesson by Heart, as he may practise it: he will repeat it in his Actions. We shall discover if there be Prudence in his Exercises, if there be Sincerity and Justice in his Deportments, if there be Grace and Judgement in his Speaking, if there be constancy in his Sickness, if there be Modesty in his Mirth, Temperance in his Pleasures, Order in his Oeconomy, and Indifferency in his Palate, whether what he eats or drinks be Flesh or Fish, Wine or Water. Qui disciplinam suam non ostentationem scientiae, 
Cic. Ibid.  sed legem vitae putet, quique obtemperet ipse sibi, & decretis pareat; who considers his own Discipline, not as a vain Ostentation of Science, but as a Law and Rule of Life; and who obeys his own Decrees, and observes that Regiment he has prescribed to himself. The Conduct of our Lives is the true mirror of our Doctrine. Zeupidamus, to one who asked him, Why the Lacedæmonians did not commit their Constitutions of Chivalry to Writing, and deliver them to their Youngmen to read, made Answer, That it was because they would inure them to Action, and not amuse them with Words: with such a one, after fifteen or sixteen Years study, compare one of our College Latinists, who has thrown away so much time in nothing but learning to speak. The World is nothing but Babble; and I hardly ever yet saw that Man who did not rather prate too much, than speak too little; and yet half of our Age is embezzled this way. We are kept four or five Years to learn Words only, and to tack them together into Clauses; as many more to make Exercises, and to divide a continued Discourse into so many Parts; and other five Years at least to learn succinctly to mix and interweave them after a subtle and intricate manner. Let us leave it to the learned Professors. Going one Day to Orleans, I met in the Plain on this side Clery, two Pedants travelling towards Bourdeaux, about fifty Paces distant from one another, and a good way further behind them, I discovered a Troop of Horse, with a Gentleman in the Head of them, which was the late Monsteur le Compte de la Rochefoucaut; one of my People enquired of the foremost of these Domines, who that Gentleman was that came after him, who having not seen the Train that followed after, and I thinking he meant his Companion, pleasantly answered, 
A pleasant Answer of a Pedant.  He is not a Gentleman, Sir, he is a Grammarian, and I am a Logician. Now we who quite contrary, do not here pretend to breed a Grammarian, or a Logician, but a complete Gentleman, let us leave them to throw away their Time at their own Fancy: our Business lies elsewhere. Let but our Pupil be well furnished with Things, Words will follow but too fast; he will pull them after him if they do not voluntarily follow. I have observed some to make Excuses, that they cannot express themselves, and pretend to have their Fancies full of a great many very fine things, which yet, for want of Elocution, they cannot utter; a mere Shift, and nothing else. Will you know what I think of it? I think they are nothing but shadows of some imperfect Images and Conceptions that they know not what to make of within, nor consequently bring them out: they do not yet themselves understand what they would be at, and if you but observe how they haggle, and stammer upon the point of Parturition, you will soon conclude, that their Labour is not to Delivery, but about Conception, and that they are but licking their formless Embryo. For my part, I hold, and Socrates is positive in it, That whoever has in his Mind a sprightly and clear Imagination, he will express it well enough in one kind or another, and, though he were Dumb, by Signs.  
Hor. de Art Poetic.  Verbaque praevisant rem non invita sequentur. 
When once a thing conceived is in the Wit,  
Words soon present themselves to utter it.  
And as another as poetically says in Prose, cum Res Animum occupavere, 
Seneca.  Verba ambiunt. When things are once formed in the Fancy, Words offer themselves in muster: and this other, ipsae res Verba rapiunt. The things themselves force Words to express them. 
Cicero de fin. l. 3.  He knows nothing of Ablative, Conjunctive, Substantive, or Grammar, no more than his Lackey, or a Fishwife of the Petit-Pont; and yet these will give you a Belly full of talk, if you will hear them, and peradventure shall trip as little in their Language as the best Masters of Art in France. He knows no Rhetoric, nor how in a Preface to bribe the Benevolence of the courteous Reader; neither does he care, nor is it very necessary he should know it. Indeed all this Decoration of Painting is easily obscured and put down by the Lustre of a simple and blunt Truth; these fine Flourishes serve only to amuse the Vulgar of themselves incapable of more solid and nutritive Diet, as Afer does very evidently demonstrate in Tacitus. The Ambassadors of Samos, prepared with a long and Elegant Oration, came to Cleomenes King of Sparta, to incite him to a War against the Tyrant Polycrates, who after he had heard their Harangue with great Gravity and Patience, gave them this short Answer; As to the Exordium, I remember it not, nor consequently the middle of your Speech, but for what concerns your Conclusion, I will not do what you desire; A very pretty Answer this, methinks, and a pack of learned Orators no doubt most sweetly confounded. And what did this other say? The Athenians were to choose one of two Architects for a Surveyor to a very great Building they had designed, of which, the first, a pert affected Fellow, offered his Service in a long premeditated Discourse upon the Subject, and by his Oratory inclined the Voices of the People in his Favour; but the other in three Words, Lords of Athens, All that this Man hath said I Will do. When Cicero was in the height and heat of his Eloquence, many were struck with Admiration; but Cato did only laugh at it, saying, We have a pleasant 
* Ridiculum Consulem.  Consul. Let it go before, or come after, a good Sentence, or a thing well said, is always in Season, if it neither suit well with what went before nor has any very good Coherence with what follows after, it is however good in itself. I am none of those who think that good Rhyme makes a good Poem. Let him make short long, and long short if it will, 'tis no great matter; if there be invention, and that the Wit and Judgement have well performed their Offices, I will say here's a good Poet, but an ill Rhymer. 
Hor. ser. lib. sat. 4.  Emunctae naris, durus componere versus. 
His Fancy's rich, his Sense is clear  
In Verse, though he has no good Ear.  Let a Man, says Horace, divest his work of all Ornaments and Measure. 
Tempora certa, modosque, & quod prius ordine verbum est,  
Posterius faciat, praeponens ultima primis,  
Invenias etiam disjecti membra Poetae:  
Let Tense, and Mood, and Words be all misplaced,  
Those last that should be first, those first the last,  
Tho all things be thus shuffled out of Frame,  
You'll yet a Poem find in 
* According to that of Doctor Donne, D. of S. Paul's.  Anagram.  He will never the more forfeit his Praise for that the very Pieces will be fine by themselves. Menander's Answer had this meaning, who being reproved by a Friend, the time drawing on at which he had precisely promised a Comedy that he had not yet fallen in Hand with it, it is made, and ready, said he, all to the Verses. Having contrived the Subject, and disposed the Scenes in his Fancy, he took little care for the rest. Since Ronsard and du Bellay have given Reputation to our French Poesy, every little Dabbler, for aught I see, swells his Words as high, and makes his Cadences very near as harmonious as they. Plus sonat, 
Seneca, Epist. 40.  quam valet; There were never so many Poetasters as now, but though they find it no hard matter to Rhyme as musically as they, they yet fall infinitely short of imitating the brave Descriptions of the one, and the curious Invention of the other. But what will become of our young Gentleman, if he be attacked with the Sophistick Subtlety of some Syllogism? A Westphalia Ham makes a Man drink, drink quenches Thirst; therefore a Westphalia Ham quenches Thirst. Why let him laugh at it, and it will be more Discretion to do so, than to go about to answer it, or let him borrow this pleasant Evasion from Aristippus, Why should I trouble myself to untie that, which, bound as it is, gives me so much trouble? One offering at this dialectic Juggling against Cleanthes, Chrysippus took him short, saying, Reserve these Baubles to play with Children, and do not by such Fooleries, divert the serious Thoughts of a man of Years. If these ridiculous Subtleties, contorta, & aculeata Sophismata, as Cicero calls them, 
Cicero Acad. l. 4.  are designed to possess him with an Untruth, they are then dangerous, but if they signify no more than only to make him laugh, I do not see why they should be so considerable, that a Man need to be fortified against them. There are some so ridiculous, as to go a Mile out of their way to hook in a fine Word: 
●uin. l. 8.  Aut qui non verba rebus aptant, sed res arcessunt, quibus verba conveniant; who do not fit Words to the Subject, but seek out for things quite from the Purpose, 
Sen. Ep. 59  to fit those Words they are so enamoured of. And as another says, Qui alicujus verbi decore placentis vocentur ad id, quod non proposuerant scribere; Who by their fondness of some fine sounding Word, are tempted to something they had no Intention to treat of. I for my part rather bring in a fine Sentence by Head and Shoulders to fit my Purpose, than divert my Designs to hunt after a Sentence. On the contrary, words are to serve, and to follow a Man's Purpose; and let Gascon come in play where French will not do. I would have things so exceed, and wholly possess the Imagination of him that hears, that he should have something else to do, than to think of Words. The way of speaking that I love, is natural and plain, as well in Writing as Speaking, and a sinewy and significant way of expressing a Man's self, short and pithy, and not so elegant and artificial as prompt and vehement. 
Epist. Lucani.  Haec demùm sapiet dictio, quae feriet. 
Most Weight and Wisdom does that Language bear,  
Does pierce and captivate the Hearers Ear.  Rather hard than harsh, free from Affectation; irregular, incontiguous, and bold, where every Piece makes up an entire Body; not like a Pedant, a Preacher, or a Pleader, but rather a Soldierlike Style, as Suetonius calls that of Julius Caesar; and yet I see no reason why he should call it so. I have never yet been apt to imitate the negligent Garb, which is yet observable among the Youngmen of our time, to wear my Cloak on one Shoulder, my Bonnet on one side, and one Stocking in something more Disorder than the other, which seems to express a kind of manly Disdain of those exotic Ornaments, and a Contempt of Art; but I find that negligence of much better use in the form of Speaking. 
Affectation unbecoming a Courtier.  All Affectation, particularly in the French Gaiety and Freedom, is ungraceful in a Courtier, and in a Monarchy every Gentleman ought to be fashioned according to the Court Model; for which reason, an easy and natural Negligence does well. I no more like a Web where the Knots and Seems are to be seen, than a fine Proportion, so delicate, 
Seneca, Epist. 40.  that a man may tell all the Bones and Veins. Quae veritati operam dat oratio, incomposita sit, & simplex. Quis accuratè loquitur, nisi qui vult putidè loqui? Let the Language that is dedicated to Truth be plain and unaffected. For who studies to speak quaintly and accurately, that does not at the same time design to perplex his Auditory? That Eloquence prejudices the Subject it would advance, that wholly attracts us to itself. And as in our outward Habit, 'tis a ridiculous Effeminacy to distinguish ourselves by a particular and unpractised Garb or Fashion; so in Language, to study new Phrases, and to affect Words that are not of currant use, proceeds from a Childish and Scholastic Ambition. Shall I be bound to speak no other Language than what is spoken in the Courts of Paris? Aristophanes' the Grammarian was a little out, when he reprehended Epicurus for this plain way of delivering himself, the End and Design of his Oratory being only Perspicuity of Speech, and to be understood. The Imitation of Words by its own Facility, immediately disperses itself through a whole People: but the imitation of inventing, and fitly applying those Words, is of a slower Progress. The Generality of Readers, for having found a like Robe, very mistakingly imagine they have the same Body and inside too, whereas Force and Sinews are never to be borrowed, the Gloss and outward Ornament, that is, Words and Elocution, may. Most of those I converse with, speak the same Language I here write; but whether they think the same Thoughts I cannot say. The Athenians (says Plato) are observed to study length and elegancy of Speaking; the Lacedæmonians to affect Brevity; and those of Crect to aim more at the Fecundity of Conception than the Fertility of Speech; and these are the best. Zenon used to say, that he had two sorts of Disciples, one that he called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, curious to learn things, and these were his Favourites; the other, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that cared for nothing but Words: not that fine Speaking is not a very good and commendable Quality; but not so excellent and so necessary as some would make it; and I am scandalised that our whole Life should be spent in nothing else. I would first understand my own Language, and that of my Neighbours with whom most of my Business and Conversation lies. No doubt but Greek and Latin are very great Ornaments, and of very great use, but we buy them too dear: I will here discover one way, which also has been experimented in my own Person, by which they are to be had better cheap, and such may make use of it as will. My Father having made the most precise Enquiry that any man could possibly make amongst Men of the greatest Learning and Judgement, of an exact method of Education, was by them cautioned of the Inconvenience then in use, and made to believe, that the tedious time we applied to the learning of the Tongues of them who had them for nothing, was the sole cause we could not arrive to that Grandeur of Soul, and Perfection of Knowledge with the ancient Greeks and Romans: I do not however believe that to be the only Cause: but the Expedient my Father found out for this, was, that in my Infancy, and before I began to speak, he committed me to the care of a Germane, 
The Author's Education.  who since died a famous Physician in France, totally ignorant of our Language, but very fluent, and a great Critic in Latin. This Man, whom he had fetched out of his own Country, and whom he entertained with a very great Salary for this only end, had me continually in his Arms: to whom there were also joined two others of the same Nation, but of inferior Learning, to attend me, and sometimes to relieve him; who all of them entertained me with no other Language but Latin. As to the rest of his Family, it was an inviolable Rule, that neither Himself, nor my Mother, Man nor Maid, should speak any thing in my Company, but such Latin Words as every one had learned only to gabble with me. It is not to be imagined how great an advantage this proved to the whole Family, my Father, and my Mother, by this means learning Latin enough to understand it perfectly well, and to speak it to such a Degree, as was sufficient for any necessary Use; as also those of the Servants did, who were most frequent with me. To be short, we did Latin it at such a Rate, that it overflowed to all the Neighbouring Villages, where there yet remain, that have established themselves by Custom, several Latin Appellations of Artisans and their Tools. As for what concerns myself, I was above six years of Age before I understood either French or Perigordin, any more than Arabic, and without Art, Book, Grammar, or Precept, Whipping, or the expense of a Tear, had by that time learned to speak as pure Latin as my Master himself. If (for Example) they were to give me a Theme after the College fashion, they gave it to others in French, but to me they were of necessity to give it in the worst Latin, to turn it into that which was pure and good; and Nicholas Grouchi, who writ a Book de Comitiis Romanorum; William Guirentes, who has writ a Comment upon Aristotle; George Bucanan, that great Scotch Poet, and Marcus Antonius Muretus (whom both France and Italy have acknowledged for the best Orator of his time) my domestic Tutors, have all of them often told me, that I had in my Infancy that Language so very fluent and ready, that they were afraid to enter into Discourse with me; and particularly Bucanan, whom I since saw attending the late Marshal de Brissac, then told me, that he was about to write a Treatise of Education, the Example of which, he intended to take from mine, for he was then Tutor to that Count de Brissac, who afterwards proved so valiant and so brave a Gentleman. As to Greek, of which I have but a very little Smattering, my Father also designed to have it taught me by a Trick; but a new one, and by way of sport; tossing our Declensions to and fro, after the manner of those, who by certain Games at Tables and Chess, learn Geometry and Arithmetic: for he, amongst other Rules, had been advised to make me relish Science and Duty by an unforced Will, and of my own voluntary motion, and to educate my Soul in all Liberty and Delight, without any Severity or Constraint. Which also he was an Observer of to such a degree even of Superstition, if I may say so, that some being of Opinion, it did trouble and disturb the Brains of Children suddenly to wake them in the Morning, and to snatch them violently and over hastily from Sleep, (wherein they are much more profoundly involved than we) he only caused me to be waked by the Sound of some musical Instrument, and was never unprovided of a Musician for that purpose: by which Example you may judge of the rest, this alone being sufficient to recommend both the Prudence and the Affection of so good a Father; who therefore is not to be blamed if he did not reap Fruits answerable to so exquisite a Culture: of which, two things were the cause. First, a sterile and improper Soil: for, though I was of a strong and healthful Constitution, and of a Disposition tolerably sweet and tractable; yet I was withal so heavy, idle, and indisposed, that they could not rouse me from this Stupidity to any Exercise of Recreation, nor get me out to play. What I saw, I saw clearly enough, and under this lazy Complexion nourished a bold Imagination, and Opinions above my Age. I had a slothful Wit, that would go no faster than it was led, a slow Understanding, a languishing Invention, and after all, incredible defect of Memory, so that it is no wonder, if from all these nothing considerable can be extracted. Secondly, (like those, who, impatient of a long and steady cure, submit to all sorts of Prescriptions and Receipts) the good Man being extremely timorous of any way failing in a thing he had so wholly set his Heart upon, suffered himself at last to be overruled by the common Opinion, and complying with the method of the time, having no more those Persons he had brought out of Italy, and who had given him the first Model of Education, about him, he sent me at six Years of Age to the College of Guienne, at that time the best and most flourishing in France. And there it was not possible to add any thing to the care he had to provide me the most able Tutors, with all other Circumstances of Education, reserving also several particular Rules contrary to the College Practice; but so it was, that wit● all these Precautions, it was a College still. My Latin immediately grew corrupt, of which also by Discontinuance I have since lost all manner of use: so that this new way of Institution served me to no other end, than only at my first coming to prefer me to the first Forms: for at thirteen Years old, that I came out of the College, I had run through my whole Course (as they call it) and in truth without any manner of Improvement, that I can honestly brag of, in all this time. The first thing that gave me any Taste of Books, was the Pleasure I took in reading the Fables of Ovid's Metamorphoses, and with them I was so taken, that being but Seven or Eight Years old, I would steal from all other Divertisements to read them, both by reason that this was my own natural Language, the easiest Book that I was acquainted with, and for the Subject, the most accommodated to the Capacity of my Age: for as for Lancelot du Lake, Amadis de Gaul, Huon of Bourdeaux, and such Trumpery, which Children are most delighted with, I had never so much as heard their Names, no more than I yet know what they contain; so exact was the Discipline wherein I was brought up. But this was enough to make me neglect the other Lessons were prescribed me; and here it was infinitely to my advantage, to have to do with an understanding Tutor, who very well knew discreetly to connive at this and other Truantries of the same nature; for by this means I ran through Virgil's Aeneids, Terence, Plautus, and some Italian Comedies, allured by the Softness and Pleasure of the Subject; whereas had he been so foolish as to have taken me off this Diversion, I do really believe, I had brought nothing away from the College but a Hatred of Books, as almost all our young Gentlemen do: but he carried himself very discreetly in that Business, seeming to take no notice, and allowing me only such time as I could steal from my other regular, and yet moderate Studies, which whetted my Appetite to devour those Books I was naturally so much in love with before. For the chief things my Father expected from their Endeavour to whom he had delivered me for Education, was Affability of Manners, and good Humour; and, to say the truth, mine had no other Vice but Sloth and want of Mettle. There was no fear that I would not ill, but that I would do nothing; no body suspected that I would be wicked, but useless; they foresaw an Idleness, but no Malice in my Nature; and I find it falls out accordingly. The Complaints I hear of myself are these, He is idle, cold in the Offices of Friendship and Relation, and remiss in those of the Public; he is too particular, he is too proud: but the most Injurious do not say, Why has he taken such a thing? Why has he not paid such a one? But why does he part with nothing? Why does he not give? And I should take it for a Favour that Men would expect from me no greater Effects of Supererogation than these. But they are unjust to exact from me what I do not owe; and in condemning me to it, they Efface the Gratification of the Act, and deprive me of the Gratitude that would be due to me upon such a Bounty; whereas the active Benefit ought to be of so much the greater Value from my hands, by how much I am not passive that way at all I can the more freely dispose of my Fortune the more it is mine, and of myself, the more I am my own. Nevertheless, if I were good at setting out my own Actions, I could peradventure very well repel these Reproaches, and could give some to understand, that they are not so much offended, that I do not enough, as that I am able to do a great deal more than I do. Yet for all this heavy Disposition of mine, my Mind, when retired into itself, was not altogether idle, nor wholly deprived of solid Inquisition, nor of certain and infallible Results about those Objects it could comprehend, and could also without any Helps digest them; but amongst other things, I do really believe, it had been totally impossible to have made it to submit by Violence and Force. Shall I here acquaint you with on● Faculty of my youth? I had great Boldness and Assurance of Countenance, and to that a Flexibility of Voice and Gesture to any Part I undertook to act. 
Vir●. Bu●ol. 8.  Alter ab undecimo tum me vix ceperat annus. 
For the next Year to my eleventh had  
Me but a very few days older made.  When I played the chiefest Parts in the Latin Tragedies of Bucanan, Guerente, and Muretus, that were presented in our College of Guienne, with very great Applause: wherein Andreas Goveanus, our Principal, as in all other Parts of his Undertaking, was without Comparison, the best of that Employment in France; and I was looked upon as one of the chief Actors. 'Tis an Exercise that I do not disapprove in young People of Condition, and have since seen our Princes, by the Example of the Ancients, in Person handsomely and commendably perform these Exercises; and it was moreover allowed to persons of the greatest Quality to profess, and make a Trade of it in Greece. Aristoni Tragico actori rem aperit: 
Lib. l. 6. 26.  huic & genus, & fortuna honesta erant: nec Ars, quia nihil tale apud Graecos pudori est ea deformabat. He imparted this Affair to Aristo the Tragedian, a man of a good Family and Fortune, which nevertheless, did neither of them receive any Blemish by that Profession; nothing of that kind being reputed a Disparagement in Greece. Nay, I have always taxed those with Impertinence who condemn these Entertainments, and with Injustice those who refuse to admit such Comedians as are worth seeing into the good Towns, and grudge the People that public Diversion. Well-governed Corporations take care to assemble their Citizens, not only to the solemn Duties of Devotion, but also to Sports and Spectacles. They find Society and Friendship augmented by it; and besides, can there possibly be allowed a more orderly and regular Diversion than what is performed in the Sight of every one, and very often in the Presence of the Supreme Magistrate himself? And I, for my part, should think it reasonable, that the Prince should sometimes gratify his People at his own Expense; and that in great and populous Cities there might be Theatres erected for such Entertaiments, if but to divert them from worse and more private Actions. But, to return to my Subject, there is nothing like alluring the Appetite and Affection, otherwise you make nothing but so many Asses loaden with Books, and by virtue of the Lash, give them their Pocket full of Learning to keep; whereas, to do well, you should not only lodge it with them, but make them to espouse it.   

CHAP. XXVI.  
That it is Folly to measure Truth and Error by our own Capacity.  
'TIs not perhaps without Reason, that we attribute Facility of Belief, and easiness of Persuasion, to Simplicity and Ignorance, and I have heard the Belief compared to the Impression of a Seal stamped upon the Soul, which by how much softer and of less resistance it is, is the more easy to be imposed upon. Ut necesse est lancem in libra ponderibus impositis, de primis sic animum perspicuis ●edere; As the Scale of the Balance must give way to the Weight that presses it down, so the mind must of necessity yield to Demonstration; and by how much the Soul is more empty, and without Counterpoise, with so much greater Facility it dips under the weight of the first Persuasion. And this is the reason that Children, the common People, womans, and sick Folks, are most apt to be led by the Ears. But then on the other side, 'tis a very great Presumption, to slight and condemn all things for false that do not appear to us likely to be true; which is the ordinary Vice of such as fancy themselves wiser than their Neighbours. I was myself once one of those; and if I heard talk of dead Folks walking, of Prophecies, Enchantments, Witchcrafts, or any other Story, I had no mind to believe, 
Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas,  
Nocturnos lemures, portentaque Thessala;  
Dreams, Magic Terrors, Wonders, Sorceries,  
Hobgoblins, or Thessalian Prodigies.  I presently pitied the poor People that were abused by these Follies; whereas I now find, that I myself was to be pitied as much at least as they; not that Experience has taught me any thing to convince my former Opinion, tho' my Curiosity has endeavoured that way; but Reason has instructed me, that thus Resolutely to condemn any thing for false and impossible, is arrogantly and impiously to circumscribe and limit the Will of God, and the Power of Nature, within the Bounds of my own Capacity, than which no folly can be greater. If we give the Names of Monster and Miracle to every thing our Reason cannot comprehend, how many are continually presented before our Eyes? Let us but consider through what Clouds, and as it were groping in the Dark, our Teachers lead us to the Knowledge of most of the things we apply our Studies to, and we shall find that it is rather Custom than Knowledge that takes away the Wonder, and renders them easy and familiar to us. 

Lucret. l. 2.  Jam nemo cessus, saturusque videndi,  
Suspicere in Caeli dignatur lucide Templa.  
Already glutted with the Sight, now none  
Heaven's lucid Temples deigns to look upon.  And that if those things were now newly presented to us, we should think them as strange and incredible, if not more than any others.  

Id. ibid. — Si nunc primum mortalibus adsint  
Ex improviso, seu sint objecta repentè,  
Nil magis his rebus poterat mirabile dici,  
Aut minus ante quod auderent fore credere gentes.  
Where things are suddenly, and by surprise  
Just now objected new to mortal Eyes,  
At nothing could they be astonished more,  
Nor less than what they so admired before.  
He that had never seen a River, imagined the first he met with to be the Sea, and the greatest things that have fallen within our Knowledge, we conclude the Extremes that Nature makes of the kind. 

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

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

Horat. l. 2. Ode 2. — Et ipse  
Notus in fratres animi Paterni.  
And he himself noted the rest above,  
Towards his Brothers for paternal Love.   
We are not here to bring the Love we beat to Women, though it be an Act of our own Choice, into comparison; nor rank it with the others; the Fire of which I confess, 

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

Ariosto, Canto. 10.  Come segue la lepre ill cacciatore  
Al freddo, all caldo, alla montagna, all litto:  
Ne piu l'estima poi, che presa vede,  
Et sol dietro a chi fugge affretta il pied:  
Like Hunters, that the flying Hare pursue  
O'er Hill, and dale, through Heat, and Morning Dew,  
Which being ta'en, the Quarry they despise,  
Being only pleased in following that which flies.  
So soon as ever they enter into terms of Friendship, that is to say, into a concurrence of Desires, it vanishes, and i● gone, fruition destroys it, as having only a fleshly end, and such a one as is subject to Satiety. Friendship on the contrary, is enjoyed proportionably, as it is desired, and only grows up, is nourished and improves by enjoyment, as being of itself Spiritual, and the Soul growing still more perfect by practice. Under, and subsellious to this perfect Friendship, I cannot deny, but that the other vain Affections, have in my younger Years found some place in my thoughts that I may say nothing of him, who himself confesses but too much in his Verses: So that I had both these Passions, but always so, that I could myself well enough distinguish them, and never in any degree of comparison with one another. The first maintaining its flight in so lofty and so brave a place, as with disdain to look down, and see the other flying at a far humbler pitch below. As concerning Marriage, besides, that it is a Covenant, the entrance into which, is only free, but the continuance in it, forced and compelled, having another dependence, than that of our own Free will, and a Bargain commonly contracted to other ends, there almost always happens a Thousand Intricacies in it, to unravel enough to break the Thread, and to divert the Current of a lively Affection: whereas Friendship has no manner of Business or Traffic with any but itself. Moreover, to say truth, the ordinary Talon of Women, is not such, as is sufficient to maintain the Conference and Communication required, to the support of this Conjugal Tie; nor do they appear to be endued with Constancy of Mind, to endure the pinch of so hard and durable a Knot. And doubtless if without this, there could be such a free and voluntary familiarity contracted, where not only the Souls might have this entire fruition, but the Bodies also might share in the Alliance, and a Man be engaged throughout, the Friendship would certainly be more full and perfect; but it is without example, that this Sex could ever arrive at such perfection, and by the Ancient Schools, is wholly rejected; as also that other Grecian Licence is justly abhorred by our manners; which also fo● having, according to their practice, a so necessary disparity of Age, and difference of Offices betwixt the Lovers, hold no more proportion with the perfect Union and Harmony that we here require, than the other. Quis est enim iste amor amicitiae 〈◊〉 neque deformem adolescentem, 
Cicero Tus. lib. 4.  quisquam 〈…〉 formosam senem? For what is that Love of Friendship? why does no one Love a deformed Youth, or a comely Old Man? Neither will that very Picture that the Academy presents of it, as I conceive, contradict me, when I say, that the first fury inspired by the Son of Venus into the heart of the Lover, upon the sight of the Flower, and prime of a Springing and blossoming Youth, to whom they allow all the Insolences, and Passionate Attempts, that an immoderate Ardour can produce, was simply founded upon an external Beauty, the false image of Corporal Generation; for upon the Soul it could not ground this Love, the sight of which, as yet lay concealed, was but now springing, and not of maturity to Blossom. Which fury, if it seized upon a mean Courage, the means by which he preferred his suit, were rich Presents, favour in advancement to Dignities, and such Trumpery, which they by no means approve: If on a more generous Soul, the pursuit was suitably generous, by Philosophical Instructions, Precepts to revere Religion, to obey the Laws, to die for the good of his Country; by examples of Valour, Prudence and Justice, the Lover studying to render himself acceptable by the Grace and Beauty of his Soul, that of his Body being long since faded and decayed, hoping by this mutual Society to establish a more firm and lasting Contract. When this Courtship came to affect in due season, (for that which they do not require in the Lover, namely, Leisure, and Discretion in his pursuit, they strictly require in the person Loved; forasmuch as he is to judge of an internal Beauty, of difficult Knowledge, and obscure Discovery,) then there sprung in the Person Loved the desire of a spiritual Conception, by the mediation of a spiritual Beauty. This was the Principal, the Corporeal, Accidental, and Second Causes, are all the wrong side of the Lover. For this reason they prefer the Person Beloved, maintaining, that the Gods in like manner prefer him too, and very much blame the Poet Aeschylus, for having, in the Loves of Achilles, and Patroclus, given the Lover's part to Achilles, who was in the first flower and pubescency of his Youth, and the handsomest of all the Greeks. After this general Familiarity, & mutual Community of Thoughts, is once settled, supposing the sovereign and most worthy Part to preside and govern, and to perform its proper Offices, they say, that from thence great Utility derived, both to private and public Concerns, that the force and power of Countries received their beginning from thence, and that it was the chiefest security of Liberty and Justice. Of which, the Salutiferous Loves of Harmonious and Aristogiton is a good instance; and therefore it is, that they called it Sacred and Divine, and do conceive, that nothing but the Violence of Tyrants, and the Baseness of the common People, is mimical to it: finally, all that can be said in favour of the Academy, is, that it was a Love which ended in Friendship; which also well enough agrees with the Stoical definition of Love. Amorem conatum esse amicitiae faciendae ex pulchritudinis specie. 
Cicero. Ibid.  That Love is a desire of contracting Friendship by the Beauty of the Object. I return to my own more just and true description. Omnino amicitiae, 
Cicero. Amic.  corroboratis jam confirmatis ingeniis, & aetatibus, judicandae sunt. Those are only to be reputed Friendships, that are fortified and confirmed by Judgement, and length of time. For the rest, which we commonly call Friends, and Friendships, are nothing but Acquaintance, and Familiarities, either occasionally contracted, or upon some design, by means of which, there happens some little intercourse betwixt our Souls: but in the Friendship I speak of, they mix and work themselves into one piece, with so universal a mixture, that there is no more sign of the Seam by which they were first conjoined. If a Man should importune me to give a reason why I Loved him; I find it could not otherwise be expressed, than by making answer, because it was he, because it was I. There is beyond I am able to say, I know not what inexplicable and fatal power that brought on this Union. We sought one another long before we met, and by the Characters we heard of one another, which wrought more upon our Affections, than in reason, mere reports should do, I think by some secret appointment of Heaven, we embraced in our Names; and at our first meeting, which was accidentally at a great City entertainment, we found ourselves so mutually taken with one another, so acquainted, and so endeared betwixt ourselves, that from thenceforward nothing was so near to us as one another. He writ an excellent Latin satire, which I since Printed, wherein he excuses the precipitation of our Intelligence, so suddenly come to perfection, saying, that being to have so short continuance, as being begun so late, (for we were both full grown Men, and he some Years the older,) there was no time to lose; nor was tied to conform itself to the example of those slow and regular Friendships, that require so many precautions of a long praeliminary Conversation. This has no other Idea, than that of its self: this is no one particular consideration, nor two, nor three, nor four, nor a thousand: 'tis I know not what quintessence of all this mixture, which, seizing my whole Will, carried it to plunge and lose itself in his, and that having seized his whole Will; brought it back with equal concurrence and appetite, to plunge and lose itself in mine. I may truly say, lose, reserving nothing to ourselves, that was either his or mine. When Laelius, in the presence of the Roman Consuls, (who after they had sentenced Tiberius Gracchus, prosecuted all those who had had any familiarity with him also,) came to ask Cajus Blosius, (who was his chiefest Friend and Confident,) how much he would have done for him? And that he made Answer, All things. How! All things! said Laelius, And what if he had commanded you to Fire our Temples? he would never have commanded me that, replied Blosius, But what if he had? said Laelius. Why, if he had, I would have Obeyed him, said the other. If he was so perfect a Friend to Gracchus, as the Histories report him to have been, there was yet no necessity of offending the Consuls by such a bold confession, though he might still have retained the assurance he had of Gracchus his disposition. However, those who accuse this Answer as Seditious, do not well understand the Mystery; nor presuppose, as it was true, that he had Gracchus his Will in his sleeve, both by the power of a Friend, and the perfect knowledge he had of the Man. They were more Friends, than Citizens, and more Friends to one another, than either Friends or Enemies to their Country, or than Friends to Ambition and Innovation. Having absolutely given up themselves to one another, either held absolutely the reins of the others Inclination, which also they governed by Virtue, and guided by the conduct of Reason, (which also without these, it had not been possible to do,) and therefore Blosius his Answer was such as it ought to be. If either of their Actions flew out of the handle, they were neither (according to my measure of Friendship,) Friends to one another; nor to themselves. As to the rest, this Answer carries no worse sound, than mine would do to one that should ask me, If your Will should command you to Kill your Daughter, would you do it? And that I should make Answer, that I would, for this expresses no consent to such an Act, forasmuch as I do not in the least suspect my own Will, and as little that of such a Friend. 'Tis not in the power of all the Eloquence in the World, to dispossess me of the certainty I have of the intentions and resolutions of mine; nay, no one Action of his, what face soever it might bear, could be presented to me, of which I could not presently, and at first sight, find out the moving cause: Our Souls have drawn so unanimously together, and we have with so mutual a confidence laid open the very bottom of our hearts to one another's view, that I not only know his as well as my own; but should certainly in any concern of mine, have trusted my interest much more willingly with him, than with myself. Let no one therefore rank other common Friendships with such a one as this. I have had as much experience of these, as another, and of the most perfect of their kind: but I do not advise, that any should confound the Rules of the one, and the other; for they would then find themselves much deceived. In those other ordinary Friendships, you are to walk with a Bridle in your hand, with Prudence and Circumspection, for in them the Knot is not so sure, that a Man may not half suspect it will slip: Love him (said ●●ilo) so, as if you were one Day to Hate him; and Hate him so, as you were one Day to Love him. A Precept, that though abominable in the Sovereign and perfect Friendship which I intent, is nevertheless very sound, as to the practice of the ordinary ones, now in fashion, and to which the saying that Aristotle had so frequent in his Mouth, O my Friends, there is no Friend; may very fitly be applied. And this glorious Commerce of good Offices, Presents and Benefits, by which other Friendships are supported and maintained, do not deserve so much as to be mentioned here; and is by this concurrence and consent of Wills, totally taken away, and rendered of no use; as the kindness I have for myself, receives no increase, for any thing I relieve myself withal in time of need, (whatever the Stoics say,) and as I do not find myself obliged to myself, for any Service I do myself: So the Union of such Friends, being really perfect, deprives them of all acknowledgement of such Duties, and makes them loath and banish from their Conversation, these words of Diversion, Distinction, Benefit, Obligation, Acknowledgement, Entreaty, Thanks, and the like: All Things, Wills, Thoughts, Opinions, Goods, Wives, Children, Honours and Lives, being in effect, common betwixt them, and that absolute concurrence of Affections being no other than one Soul in two Bodies, (according to that very proper definition of Aristotle) they can neither lend, nor give any thing to one another. This is the reason why the Lawgivers, to honour Marriage with some imaginary resemblance of this divine Alliance, interdict all Gifts betwixt Man and Wife; inferring by that, that all should belong to each of them, and that they have nothing to divide; or to give. If, in the Friendship of which I speak, one could give to the other, the receiver of the Benefit would be the Man that obliged his Friend; for each of them contending, and above all things, studying how to be useful to one another, he that administers the occasion, is the liberal Man, in giving his Friend the Satisfaction of doing that towards him, which above all things he does most desire. When the Philosopher Diogenes wanted Money, he used to say, that he redemanded it of his Friends, not that he demanded it; and to let you see the effectual practice of this, I will here produce an ancient and a rare Example; Eudamidas a Corinthian, had two Friends, Charixenus a Sycionian, and Aretheus a Corinthian; this Man coming to Die, being Poor, and his two Friends Rich, he made his Will after this manner, I bequeath to Aretheus the Maintenance of my Mother, to support and provide for her in her old Age, and to Charixenus I bequeath the care of marrying my Daughter, and to give her as good a Portion as he is able; and in case that one of these chance to Die, I hereby substitute the Survivor in his Place. They who first saw this Will, made themselves very merry at the Contents; but the Executors being made acquainted with it, accepted the Legacies with very great Content; and one of them, Charixenus, dying within five Days after, and Aretheus by that means having the Charge of both devolved solely to him, he nourished that old Woman with very great Care and Tenderness, and of five Talents he had in Estate, he gave two and a half in Marriage with an only Daughter he had of his own, and two and a half in Marriage with the Daughter of Eudamidas, and in one and the same day solemnised both their Nuptials. This Example is very full, if one thing were not to be objected, namely the multitude of Friends: for the perfect Friendship I speak of, is indivisible, every one gives himself so entirely to his Friend, that he has nothing left to distribute to others: But on the Contrary, is sorry, that he is not double, triple, or quadruple, and that he has not many Souls, and many Wills, to confer them all upon this one Subject. Common Friendships will admit of Division, one may love the Beauty of this, the good humour of that Person, the liberty of a third, the paternal Affection of the fourth, the fraternal Love of a fifth, and so of the rest. But this Friendship that possesses the whole Soul, and there Rules and sways with an absolute Sovereignty, can possibly admit of no Rival. If two at the same time should call to you for succour, to which of them would you run? Should they require of you contrary Offices; how could you serve them both? Should one commit a thing to your Secrecy, that it were of importance to the other to know, how would you disengage yourself? A singular and particular Friendship disunites and dissolves all other Obligations whatsoever. The secret I have sworn not to reveal to any other, I may without Perjury communicate to him who is not another, but myself. 'Tis Miracle enough certainly, for a Man to double himself, and those that talk of tripling, talk they know not of what. Nothing is extreme, that has its like; and who shall presuppose, that of two, I love one as much as the other, that they Love one another too, and love me as much as I love them, does multiply in Friendship, the most single and united of all things, and wherein moreover, one alone, is the hardest thing in the World to find. The remaining part of this Story suits very well with what I said before; for Eudamidas as a Bounty and Favour, Bequeathes to his Friends a Legacy of employing themselves in his Necessity; he leaves them Heirs to this Liberality of his, which consists, in giving them the Opportunity of conferring a Benefit upon him, and doubtless the force of Friendship is more eminently apparent in this act of his, than in that of Aretheus. In short, these are effects not to be imagined nor comprehended by such as have not experience of them, and which makes me infinitely honour and admire the Answer of that young Soldier to Cyrus, by whom being asked how much he would take for a Horse, with which he had won the prize of a Course, and whether he would exchange him for a Kingdom? No, truly Sir, said he, but I would give him with all my Heart, to find a true Friend, could I find, out any Man worthy of that Relation. He did not say ill in saying, could I find, for though a Man may almost every where meet with Men sufficiently qualified for a superficial acquaintance; yet in this, where a Man is to deal from the very bottom of his Heart, without any manner of reservation, it will be requisite, that all the Wards and Springs be neatly and truly wrought, and perfectly sure. In Leagues that hold but by one end, we are only to provide against the imperfections, that particularly concern that end. It can be of no importance to me, of what Religion my Physician or my Lawyer is, provided the one be a good Lawyer, and the other a good Physician; this consideration hath nothing in common with the Offices of Friendship, and I am of the same indifferency in the domestic acquaintance, my Servants must necessarily contract with me; I never inquire, when I am to take a Footman, if he be Chaste, but if he be Diligent; and am not solicitous, if my Chairman be given to Gaming, as if he be strong and able, or if my Cook be a Swearer, or a good Cook. I do not however take upon me to direct what other Men should do in the Government of their Families, there are enough that meddle enough with that; but only give an account of my method in my own.  
Terence Hea. Act. 1. Sec. 1.  Mihi sic usus est: tibi, ut opus est facto, face. 
This has my Practice been; but thou mayst do,  
What thy Affairs or Fancy prompt thee to.  
In Table talk, I prefer the pleasant and Witty, before the Learned and the Grave: In Bed, Beauty before Modesty, and in common Discourse, Eloquence, whether or no there be sincerity in that Case. And, as he that was found stride upon a Hobby-Horse, playing with his Children, entreated the Person who had surprised him in that posture, to say nothing of it, till himself came to be a Father, supposing, that the fondness that would then possess his own Soul, would render him a more equal Judge of such an Action: So I also could wish to speak to such as have had experience of what I say; though, knowing how remote a thing such a Friendship is from the common Practice, and how rarely such are to be found, I despair of meeting with any one qualified to such a degree of competency. For even these Discourses left us by Antiquity upon this Subject, seem to me flat and low, in comparison of the Sense I have of it, and in this particular, the Effects surpass the very Precepts of Philosophy.  
Horat. l. 1. Sat. 5.  Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico. 
I nothing to myself can recommend,  
Like the delight of a facetious Friend.  
The ancient Menander declared him to be happy, that had the good Fortune to meet with but the shadow of a Friend; and doubtless he had good Reason to say so, especially, if he spoke by experience; for in good earnest, if I compare all the rest of my Life, though thanks be to God, I have always passed my time pleasantly enough, and at my ease, and the loss of such a Friend excepted, free from any grievous Affliction, and in great tranquillity of Mind, having been contented with my natural and original Conveniences, without being solicitous after others; if I should compare it all, I say, with the four years I had the Happiness to enjoy the sweet Society of this excellent Man; 'tis nothing but smoke, but an obscure and tedious Night, from the Day that I lost him. 

Virg. Aene. 1. 5. — Quem semper acerbum,  
Semper honoratum (sic Dii voluistis) habebo.  
Which ever till I step into my grave,  
I shall in sad, but kind remembrance have.  I have only led a sorrowful and languishing Life; and the very Pleasures that present themselves to me, instead of administering any thing of Consolation, double my affliction for his loss. We were halves throughout, and to that degree, that methinks, by out-living him, I defraud him of his Part.  

Terence Heau. ct A. 1. Sc. 1.  Nec jus esse ulla me voluptate hic frui  
Decrevi, tantisper dum ille abest meus particeps.  
And this against myself I have decreed,  
Nothing of Pleasure shall my fancy feed,  
Since he is gone, for ever gone alas!  
Who in all Joys my dear Copartner was.  
I was so accustomed to be always his second in all places, and in all interests too, that methinks, I am no more than half a Man, and have but half a being. 

Horat. l. 12. Ode. 4.  Illam meae si partem animae tulit  
Maturior vis, quid moror altera,  
Nec charius aeque nec superstes  
Integer? Ille dies utramque  
Duxit ruinam.  
Since that half of my soul was snatched away  
By riper Age, why does the other stay?  
Which now's not dear, nor truly does survive  
That day our double Ruin did contrive.  There is no Action or Imagination of mine, wherein I do not want him; I know that his Advice and Assistance would be useful to me: for as he surpassed me by infinite degrees in Virtue, and all other Accomplishments; so he also did in all Offices of Friendship.  

Horat. l. 1. Ode 1.  Quis desiderio sit pudor, aut modus  
Tam chari capitis.  
A moderate Mourning were a scandal here,  
Where I lament a Friend so truly dear.  

〈◊〉  O misero, frater adempte, mihi!  
Omnia tecum una perierunt gaudia nostra,  
Quae tuus in vita, dulcis alebat amor,  
Tu mea, tu moriens fregisti commoda, fraeter,  
Tecum una tota est nostra sepulta anima.  
Cujus ego interitu tota de ment fugavi  
Haec studia, atque omnes delicias animi.  
Alloquar? andiero nunquam tua verba loquentem?  
Nunquam ego te vita, frater amabilior,  
Aspiciam posthac? at certe semper amabo.  
Ah! Brother, what a Life did I commence,  
From that sad Day that thou were ravished hence!  
Those Joys are gone, that whilst thou tarried'st here,  
By thy sweet Conversation nourished were.  
With thee, when dying, my good Fortune fled,  
And in thy Grave my Soul was buried.  
The Muses at thy Funerals I forsook,  
And of thy Joy my leave forever took.  
Dearer than Life, am I so wretched then,  
Never to see, nor speak to thee again,  
Nor hear thy Voice, now frozen up by Death?  
Yet will I Love thee to my latest Breadth.  
But let us hear a little Boy of Sixteen speak.  
In this place I did once intent to have inserted those Memoirs upon that famous Edict of January: But being I since find that they are already Printed, and with a malicious design, by some who make it their business to molest, and endeavour to subvert the state of our Government, not caring whether they mend and reform it, or no; and that they have confounded this Writing of his with others of their own Leven, 
Apology for Estienne de Boetie.  I desisted from that purpose: But that the Memory of the Father may not be interested, nor suffer with such, as could not come near hand to be acquainted with his Principles; I here give them truly to understand, that it was writ by him in his very green Years, and that by way of Exercise only, as a common Theme that has been tumbled and tossed by a Thousand Writers. I make no question, but that he himself believed what he writ, being so Conscientious that way, that he would not so much as lie in jest: and do moreover know, that could it have been in his own Choice, he had rather have been Born at Venice, than at Soarlac, and he had reason: But he had another Maxim Sovereignly imprinted in his Soul, very Religiously to Obey, and submit to the Laws under which he was Born. There never was a better Citizen, more affectionate to his Country; nor a greater Enemy to all the Commotions and Innovations of his time: So that he would doubtless much rather have employed his Talon to the extinguishing of those Civil Flames, than have added any Fuel to them: For he had a Mind fashioned to the Model of better Ages. But in exchange of this Serious Piece, I will present you with another of a more Gay and Frolic Air, from the same Hand, and Writ at the same Age.   

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

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

Horace l. 1. Epist. 6.  Insani sapiens nomen ferat, aequus iniqui,  
Ultra quam satis est, virtutem si petat ipsam.  
The Wise for Mad, the Just for Unjust pass,  
When more than needs, even Virtue they embrace.  
This is a subtle consideration in Philosophy. A Man may both be too much in Love with Virtue, and be excessive in a just Action. Holy Writ agrees with this, Be not Wiser than you should; but be soberly Wise. 
* 'Tis like he means Henry the 3d. of France.  I have known a great Man prejudice thè Opinion Men had of his Devotion, by pretending to be devout beyond all Examples of others of his condition. I Love temperate and moderate Natures. An immoderate Zeal, even to that which is good, though it does not offend, does astonish me; and puts me to study what Name to give it. Neither the Mother of Pausanias, who was the first instructor of her Son's process, and threw the first stone towards his Death: Nor Posthumus the Dictator, who put his Son to Death, whom the Ardour of Youth had fortunately pushed upon the Enemy a little more advanced than the rest of his Squadron, do appear to me so just as strange; and I should neither advise, nor like to follow so Savage a Virtue, and that costs so dear. The Archer that shoots over, misses as well as he that falls short, and 'tis equally troublesome to my sight, to look up at a great Light, and to look down into a dark Abyss. Callicles in Plato, says, That the extremity of Philosophy is hurtful, and advises not to dive into it beyond the limits of Profit: that taken moderately, it is pleasant and useful; but that in the end, it renders a Man Brutish and Vicious: A Contemner of Religion, and the common Laws, an Enemy to civil Conversation, and all Humane Pleasures, incapable of all Public Administration, unfit either to assist others, or to relieve himself, and a fit Object for all sorts of Injuries and Affronts, without remedy, or satisfaction: He says true, for in its Excess, it enslaves our Natural Freedom, and by an impertinent subtlety, leads us out of the fair and beaten way that Nature has plained out for us. The Love we bear to our Wives is very lawful, and yet Theology thinks fit to curb and restrain it. As I remember, I have read in one place of St. Thomas of Aquin, where he condemns Marriages within any of the forbidden degrees, for this reason, amongst others, that there is some danger, lest the Friendship a Man bears to such a Woman, should be immoderate; for if the Conjugal Affection be full and perfect betwixt them, as it ought to be, and that it be over and above surcharged with that of Kindred too, there is no doubt, but such an addition will carry the Husband beyond the bounds of reason. Those Sciences that regulate the manners of Men, Divinity and Philosophy, will have a saying to every thing. There is no Action so private that can escape their Inspection and Jurisdiction, but they are best taught, who are best able to censure and curb their own Liberty. 'Tis the Women that expose their Nudities over freely upon the account of Pleasure, though in the Necessities of Physic and Chirurgery, they are more shy, and more reserved. I will therefore in their behalf teach the Husbands, that is, such as are too extravagant and sensual in the exercise of the Matrimonial Duty, this Lesson, that the very Pleasures they enjoy in the Society of their Wives, are Reproachable, if immoderate, and that a Licentious and Riotous abuse of them, are Faults, as reprovable here, as illegitimate and adulterous Practices. Those immodest and Debauched Tricks and Postures, that the first Ardour suggests to us in this Affair, are not only indecently, but inconveniently practised upon our Wives. Let them at least learn impudence from another hand; they are always ready enough for our Business, and I for my part always went the plain way to work. Marriage is a Solemn and Religious Tie, and therefore the pleasure we extract from thence, should be a sober and serious delight, and mix with a certain kind of Gravity; it should be a kind of discreet and conscientious pleasure. And being that the chief end of it is Generation, some make a Question, whether when Men are out of hopes of that fruit, as when they are superannuated, or already with Child, it be lawful to lie with our Wives. 'Tis Homicide, according to Plato, and certain Nations, (the Mahometan, a mongst others,) Abominate all Conjunction with Women with Child, and others also, with those who are Unclean. Zenobia would never admit her Husband for more than one Encounter, after which, she left him to his own swing for the whole time of her Conception, and not till after that, would any more receive him: A brave Example of Conjugal Continency. It was doubtless from some Lascivious Poet, and one that himself was in great distress for a little of this sport, that Plato borrowed this Story; that Jupiter was one Day so hot upon his Wife, that not having so much patience, as till she could get to the Couch, he threw her upon the Floor, where the vehemency of pleasure made him forget the great and important Resolutions he had but newly taken with the rest of the Gods, in his Celestial Council; and to brag, that he had had as good a Bout, as when he got her Maidenhead unknown to their Parents. The Kings of Persia were wont to invite their Wives to the beginning of their Festivals; but when the Wine began to work in good earnest, and that they were to give the Reins to pleasure, they sent them back to their private Apartments, that they might not participate of their immoderate Lust, sending for other Women in their stead, with whom they were not obliged to so great a decorum of respect. All Pleasures, and all sorts of Gratifications, are not properly and fitly conferred upon all sorts of Persons. Epaminondas had Committed a young Man for certain Debauches; for whom Pelopidas mediated, that at his request he might be set at liberty, which, notwithstanding the great intelligence betwixt them, Epaminondas resolutely denied to him, but granted it at the first word to a Wench of his, that made the same intercession; saying, that it was a Gratification fit for such a one as she, but not for a Captain. Sophocles being joint Praetor with Pericles, seeing accidentally a fine Boy pass by: O what a delicate Boy is that said he; I, that were a Prize, answered Pericles, for any other than a Praetor, who ought not only to have his Hands, but his Eyes Chaste too. Elius Verus the Emperor, answered his Wife, who Reproached him with his Love to other Women, That he did it upon a Conscientious account, forasmuch as Marriage was a Name of Honour, and Dignity, not of Wanton and Lascivious Desire. And our Ecclesiastical History preserves the Memory of that Woman in great Veneration, who parted from her Husband, because she would not comply with his indecent and inordinate Desire. In fine, there is no so just and lawful pleasure, wherein the Intemperance and Excess, is not to be Condemned. But, to speak the truth, is not Man a most miserable Creature the while? It is scarce, by his Natural Condition, in his power to taste one Pleasure pure and entire; and yet must he be contriving Doctrines and Precepts, to Curtail that little he has; he is not yet Wretched enough, unless by Art and Study, he Augment his own Misery.  
Propert. lib. 3. Ele. 6.  Fortunae miseras auximus Arte vias. 
We with Misfortune ' 'gainst ourselves take part,  
And our own Miseries increase by Art.  
Humane Wisdom makes as ill use of her Talon, when she exercises it in rescinding from the number and sweetness of those Pleasures, that are naturally our due, as she employs it favourably, and well, in Artifically disguising and tricking out the ills of Life, to alleviate the Sense of them. Had I ruled the Roast, I should have taken another, and more natural course, which, to say the truth, is both Commodious and Sacred, and should peradventure have been able to have limited it too. Notwithstanding that both our Spiritual and corporal Physicians, as by compact betwixt themselves, can find no other way to cure, nor other Remedy for the Infirmities of the Body, and the Soul, than what is oft times worse than the Disease, by tormenting us more and by adding to our Misery and Pain. To this end Watch, Fast, Hair-shirts, remote and solitary Banishments, perpetual Imprisonments, Whips, and other Afflictions, have been introduced amongst Men: But so, that they should carry a sting with them, and be real Afflictions indeed; and not fall out so, as it once did to one Gallio, who having been sent an Exile into the Isle of Lesbos, news was not long after brought to Rome, that he there Lived as Merry, as the Day was long; and that what had been enjoined him for a Penance, turned to his greatest Pleasure and Satisfaction: Whereupon the Senate thought fit to recall him home to his Wife and Family, and confine him to his own House, to accommodate their Punishment to his feeling and apprehension. For to him whom Fasting would make more Heathful and more Sprightly, and to him to whose Palate Fish were more acceptable than Flesh, it would be no proper, nor sanative Receipt; no more than in the other sort of Physic, where the Drugs have no effect upon him who swallows them with Appetite and Pleasure. The Bitterness of the Portion, and the Abhorrency of the Patient, are necessary Circumstances to the Operation. The Nature that would eat Rheubarb like Buttered Turnips, would frustrate the use and virtue of it; it must be something to trouble and disturb the Stomach, that must Purge and Cure it: and here the common Rule, that things are Cured by their contraries, fails; for in this, one ill is Cured by another. This Belief a little resembles that other so Ancient one, of thinking to gratify the Gods and Nature, by Self-murder; an Opinion universally once received in all Religions, and to this day retained in some. For in these latter times wherein our Fathers Lived, Amurath at the taking of Isthmus, Immolated Six Hundred Young Greeks to his Father's Soul, in the nature of a propitiatoy Sacrifice for the Sins of the Deceased. And in those new Countries discovered in this Age of ours, which are pure, and Virgins yet, in comparison of ours, this practice is in some measure every where received. All their Idols reek with humane Blood, not without various Examples of Horrid Cruelty. Some they burn alive, and half Broiled take them off the Coals to tear out their Hearts and Entrails; others, even Women, they flay alive, and with their Bloody Skins Cloth and Disguise others. Neither are we without great Examples of Constancy and Resolution in this Affair: The poor Souls that are to be Sacrificed, Old Men, Women and Children, going some Days before to beg Alms for the Offering of their Sacrifice, and so singing and dancing, present themselves to the Slaughter. The Ambassadors of the King of Mexico, setting out to Fernando Cortes the Power and Greatness of their Master, after having told him, that he had Thirty Vassals, of which each was able to Raise an Hundred Thousand Fight Men, and that he kept his Court in the fairest and best Fortified City under the Sun, added at last, that he was obliged Yearly to offer the Gods Fifty Thousand Men. And it is confidently affirmed, that he maintained a continual War, with some Potent Neighbouring Nations, not only to keep the Young Men in Exercise, but principally, to have wherewithal to furnish his Sacrifices with his Prisoners of War. At a certain Town in another place, for the welcome of the said Cortes, they Sacrificed Fifty Men at once. I will tell you this one Tale more, and I have done; Some of these People being Beaten by him, sent to Compliment him, and to Treat with him of a Peace, whose Messengers carried him Three sorts of Presents, which they presented in these terms: Behold, Lord, here are Five Slaves, if thou be'st a furious God that feedest upon Flesh and Blood, eat these, and we will bring thee more; if thou be'st an Affable God, behold here Incense and Feathers; but if thou be'st a Man, take these Fowls and these Fruits, that we have brought thee.   

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

Virg. Aen. l. 3.  Haec locavi quondam, & vasta convulsa ruina,  
Dissiluisse ferunt: cum pro●inus utraque tellus,  
Una foret.  
'Tis said, those places by th' overbearing Flood,  
Too Great and Violent to be withstood,  
Split, and was thus from one another rent,  
Which were before one Solid Continent.  Cyprus from Suria, the Isle of Negrepont from the firm Land of Beacia; and elsewhere, united Lands that were separate before, by filling up the Channel betwixt them, with Sand and Mud; 

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

Propert. l. 1. Ele. 2.  Et veniunt hederae sponte suae melius,  
Surgit & in solis formosion arbutus antris,  
Et volucres nulla dulcius arte canunt.  
The Ivy best spontaneously does thrive,  
Th' Arbutus best in shady Caves does live,  
And Birds in their wild Notes, their Throats do stretch  
With greater Art, than Art itself can teach.  
Our utmost endeavours cannot arrive at so much as to imitate the Nest of the least of Birds, its Contexture, Queintness and Convenience: Not so much as the Web of a Contemptible Spider. All things, says Plato, are produced either by Nature, by Fortune, or by Art; the greatest and most beautiful by the one, or the other of the former, the least and the most imperfect by the last. These Nations than seem to me to be so far Barbarous; as having received but very little form and fashion from Art and Humane Invention, and consequently, not much remote from their Original Simplicity. The Laws of Nature however govern them still, not as yet much vitiated with any mixture of ours: But in such Purity, that I am sometimes troubled we were no sooner acquainted with these People, and that they were not discovered in those better times, when there were Men much more able to judge of them, than we are. I am sorry that Lycurgus and Plato had no knowledge of them; for to my apprehension, what we now see in those Natives, does not only surpass all the Images with which the Poets have adorned the Golden Age, and all their Inventions in feigning a Happy Estate of Man; but moreover, the Fancy, and even the Wish and Desire of Philosophy itself; so Native, and so pure a Simplicity, as we by Experience see to be in them, could never enter into their Imagination, nor could they ever believe that Humane Society could have been maintained with so little Artifice; should I tell Plato that it is a Nation wherein there is no manner of Traffic, no knowledge of Letters, no science of Numbers, no name of Magistrate, nor Politic Superiority; no use of Service, Riches or Poverty, no Contracts, no Successions, no Dividends, no proprieties, no Employments, but those of Leisure, no respect of Kindred, but common, no Clothing, no Agriculture, no Metal, no use of Corn or Wine, and where so much as the very words that signify, Lying, Treachery, Dissimulation, Avarice, Envy, Detraction and Pardon, were never heard of: How much would he find his Imaginary Republic short of his Perfection?  
Virg. Georg. 2.  Hos natura modos primum dedit. 
These were the Manners first by Nature taught.  
As to the rest, they Live in a Country, beautiful and pleasant to a Miracle, and so Temperate withal, as my intelligence informs me, that 'tis very rare to hear of a sick Person, and they moreover assure me, that they never saw any of the Natives, either Paralytic, Blear-eyed, Toothless, or Crooked with Age. The situation of their Country is all along by the Sea shore, and enclosed on the other side towards the Lands, with great and high Mountains, having about a Hundred Leagues in breadth between. They have great store of Fish and Flesh, that have no resemblance to those of ours: which they Eat without any other Cookery, than plain Boiling, Roasting, and Broiling. The first that carried a Horse thither, though in several other Voyages he had contracted an acquaintance and familiarity with them, put them into so terrible a Fright, that they Killed him with their Arrows before they could come to discover who he was. Their Buildings are very long, and of Capacity to hold Two or Three hundred People, made of the Barks of tall Trees, reared with one end upon the ground, and leaning to, and supporting one another, at the top, like some of our Barns, of which the Covering hangs down to the very ground, and serves for the side Walls, They have Wood so hard, that they cleave it into Swords, and make Grills of it to Broil their Meat. Their Beds are of Cotton, hung swinging in the Roof, like our Seamens Hammocks, for every one one, for the Wives lie apart from their Husbands. They rise with the Sun, and so soon as they are up, Eat for all Day, for they have no more Meals but that: They do not then Drink, (as Suidas reports of some other People of the East, that never Drink at their Meals,) but Drink very often all Day after, and sometimes to a rousing pitch. Their Drink is made of a certain Root, and is of the Colour of our Claret; which they never Drink but Lukewarm. It will keep above two or three Days, has a quick Taste, is nothing Heady, but very comfortable to the Stomach, loosening to Strangers, and a very pleasant Beverage to such as are used to it. They make use instead of Bread, of a certain White Matter, like Coriander Comfits; I have tasted of it, the taste is sweet, and a little flat. All the whole Day is spent in Dancing. Their Young Men go a Hunting after Wild Beasts with Bows and Arrows, and one part of their Women are employed in preparing their Drink the while, which is their chief Employment. There are some of their Old Men, who in the Morning before they fall to Eating, Preach to the whole Family, as they walk to and again from the one end of the House to the other, several times repeating the same Sentence, till they have finished their turn, (for their Houses are at least a Hundred Yards long,) Valour towards: their Enemies, and Love towards their Wives, being the two heads of his Discourse, never failing in the close, to put them in mind, that they have so much the greater obligation to it; because they provide them their Drink warm, and well ordered. The fashion of their Beds, Ropes, Swords, and Wooden Bracelets, they tie about their Wrists, when they go to Fight and great Canes, bored hollow at one end, by the sound of which they keep the Cadence of their Dances, are to be seen in several places, and amongst others, at my House. They shave all their hairy parts, and much more nearly than we, without other Razor, than one of Wood, or of Stone. They believe the Immortality of the Soul, and that those who have Merited well of the Gods, are Lodged in that part of Heaven where the Sun rises; and the Accursed in the West. They have I know not what kind of Priests, and Prophets, that very rarely present themselves to the People, having their abode in the Mountains. At their arrival there is a great Feast, and solemn Assembly of many Villages made: that is all the Neighbouring Families, for every House, as I have described it, makes a Village, and are about a French League distant from one another. This Prophet declaims to them in public, exhorting them to Virtue, and their Duty: But all their Ethics are terminated in these two Articles, of Resolution in War, and Affection to their Wives. This also Prophecies to them Events to come, and the Issues they are to expect from their Enterprises, prompts them to, or diverts them from War: But let him look to't; for if he fail in his Divination, and any thing happen otherwise, than he has foretold, he is cut into a thousand pieces, if he be caught, and Condemned for a false Prophet; and for that reason, if any of them finds himself mistaken, he is no more to be heard of. Divination is a gift of God, and therefore to abuse it, aught to be a Punishable Imposture. Amongst the Scythians, where their Diviners failed in the promised Effect, they were laid, Bound Hand and Foot, upon Carts loaden with Furs and Bavins, and drawn with Oxen, on which they were Burnt to Death. Such as only meddle with things subject to the Conduct of Humane Capacity, are excusable in doing the best they can: But those other sort of People that come to delude us, with Assurances of an extraordinary Faculty, beyond our understanding, ought they not to be Punished, when they do not make good the effect of their Promise, and for the temerity of their Imposture? They have continual War with the Nations that Live further within the main Land, beyond their Mountains, to which they go Naked, and without other Arms, than their Bows, and Wooden-Swords, fashioned at one end like the head of a Javelin. The Obstinacy of their Battles is wonderful, and never end without great effusion of Blood: For as to running away, they know not what it is. Every one for a Trophy brings home the head of an Enemy he has Killed, which he fixes over the Door of his House. After having a long time treated their Prisoners very well, and given them all the Regalia's they can think of, he to whom the Prisoner belongs, invites a great Assembly of his Kindred and Friends, who being come, he ties a Rope to one of the Arms of the Prisoner, of which, at a distance, out of his reach, he holds the one end himself and gives to the Friend he Loves best, the other Arm to hold after the same manner; which being done, they two in the presence of all the Assembly, dispatch him with their Swords. After that, they Roast him, Eat him amongst them, and send some Chaps to their absent Friends, which nevertheless they do not do, as some think, for Nourishment, as the Scythians, anciently did, but as a representation of an extreme Revenge; as will appear by this, That having observed the Portugals, who were in League with their Enemies, to inflict another sort of Death upon any of them they took Prisoners: Which was, to set them up to the Girdle in the Earth, to shoot at the remaining part till it was stuck full of Arrows, and then to hang them: They that thought those People of the other World, (as those who had sown the knowledge of a great many Vices amongst their Neighbours, and who were much greater Masters in all sorts of Mischief than they,) did not exercise this sort of Revenge without Mystery, and that it must needs be more painful than theirs; and so began to leave their old way, and to follow this. I am not sorry that we should here take notice of the Barbarous Horror of so Cruel an Action, but that seeing so clearly into their faults, we should be so blind in our own: For I conceive, there is more Barbarity in Eating a Man Alive. than when he is Dead; in tearing a Body Limb from Limb, by Racks and Torments, that is yet in perfect Sense, in Roasting it by degrees, causing it to be bit and worried by Dogs and Swine, (as we have not only read, but lately seen; not amongst inveterate and mortal Enemies, but Neighbours, and fellow Citizens, and which is worse, under colour of Piety and Religion,) than to Roast, and Eat him after he is Dead. Chrysippus, and Zeno, the Two Heads of the Stoical Sect, were of Opinion, That there was no hurt in making use of our Dead Carcases, in what kind soever, for our necessity, and in feeding upon them too; as our Ancestors, who being Besieged by Caesar in the City Alexia, resolved to sustain the Famine of the Siege with the Bodies of their Old Men, Women, and other Persons, who were incapable of bearing Arms.  

Javenal. Sat. 15.  Vascones (fama est) alimentis talibus usi,  
Produxere animas.  
'Tis said, the Gascons with such Meats as these,  
In time of Siege their Hunger did appease.  
And the Physicians make no Bones of employing it to all sorts of use, that is either to apply it outwardly, or to give it inwardly for the health of the Patient: but there never was any Opinion so irregular, as to excuse, Treachery, Disloyalty, Tyranny and Cruelty which are our familiar Vices. We may then call these People Barbarous, in respect to the Rules of Reason: but not in respect to ourselves, who in all sorts of Barbarity exceed them. Their Wars are throughout Noble and Generous, and carry as much Excuse and fair Pretence, as their Humane Disease is capable of; having with them no other foundation, than the sole Jealousy of Virtue. Their Disputes are not for the Conquest of new Lands, those they already possess, being so fruitful by Nature, as to supply them without Labour or Concern, with all things necessary, in such abundance, that they have no need to enlarge their Borders. And they are moreover happy in this, that they only covet so much as their natural necessities require: all beyond that is superfluous to them: Men of the same Age generally call one another Brothers, those who are younger, Sons and Daughters, and the old Men are Fathers to all. These leave to their Heirs in common this full possession of Goods, without any manner of Division, or other Title, than what Nature bestows upon her Creatures, in bringing them into the World. If their Neighbours pass over the Mountains, and come to assault them, and obtain a Victory, all the Victor's gain by it is Glory only, and the advantage of having proved themselves the better in Valour and Virtue: for they never meddle with the Goods of the Conquered, but presently return into their own Country, where they have no want of any thing necessary; nor of this greatest of all Goods, to know happily how to enjoy their Condition, and to be Content. And these in turn do the same. They demand of their Prisoners soners no other Ransom, than acknowledgement that they are overcome: but there is not one found in an Age, who will rather not choose to die, than make such a Confession, or either by Word or Look, recede from the entire Grandeur of an invincible Courage. There is not a Man amongst them, who had not rather be Killed and Eaten, than so much as to open his mouth to entreat he may not. They use them with all Liberality and Freedom, to the end their Lives may be so much the dearer to them: but frequently entertain them withal with Menaces of their approaching Death, of the Torments they are to suffer, of the preparations are making in order to it, of the mangling their Limbs, and of the Feast is to be made, where their Carcases is to be the only Dish. All which they do, to no other end, but only to extort some gentle or submissive word from them, or to Fright them so as to make them run away; to obtain this advantage, that they were terrified, and that their Constancy was shaken; and indeed, if rightly taken, it is in this point only, that a true Victory does consist.  

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

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

CHAP. XXXII.  
That we are to avoid Pleasures, even at the expense of Life.  
I Had long ago Observed most of the Opinions of the Ancients to concur in this, That i● is happy to Die, when there is more ill than good in Living, and that to preserve Life to our own Torment and Inconvenience, is contrary to the very Rules of Nature, as these old Laws instruct us.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Happy is Death, whenever it shall come  
To him, to whom to Live is troublesome,  
Whom Life does persecute with restless Spite,  
May Honourably bid the World good Night,  
And infinitely better 'tis to Die,  
Than to prolong a Life of Misery.  
But to push this Contempt of Death so far as to employ it to the removing ourselves from the danger of Coveting Honours, Riches, Dignities, and other Favours, and Goods, as we call them, of Fortune, as if Reason were not sufficient to persuade us to avoid them, without adding this new Injunction, I had never seen it either enjoined, or practised, till this passage of Seneca fell into my hands; who advising Lucilius, a Man of great Power and Authority about the Emperor, to alter his Voluptuous and Magnificent way of Living, and to retire himself from this Worldly Vanity and Ambition, to some Solitary, Quiet and Philosophical Life, and the other alleging some Difficulties; I am of Opinion, says he, either that thou leave that Life, or Life itself. I would indeed advise thee to the gentle way, and to untie, rather than to break, the Knot thou hast undiscreetly Knit, provided, that if it be not otherwise to be untied, then resolutely break it. There is no man so great a Coward, that had nor rather once fall, than to be always falling. I should have found this Counsel conformable enough to the Stoical Roughness: But it appears the more strange, for being borrowed from Epicurus, who writes the same thing upon the like occasion to Idominius. And I think I have Observed something like it, but with Christian Moderation, a mongst our own People. St. Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, that famous Enemy of the Arian Heresy, being in Syria, had intelligence thither sent him, that Abra his only Daughter, whom he left at home under the Eye and Tuition of her Mother, was sought in Marriage by the greatest Noblemen of the Country, as being a Virgin Virtuously brought up, Fair, Rich, and in the Flower of her Age: whereupon he writ to her, (as it appears upon Record,) that she should remove her Affection from all those Pleasures and Advantages were proposed unto her; for he had in his Travels found out a much greater and more worthy Fortune for her, a Husband of much greater Power and Magnificence, that would present her with Robes, and Jewels of inestimable value; wherein his design was, to dispossess her of the Appetite, and use of Worldly delights, to join her wholly to God: But the nearest and most certain way to this, being, as he conceived, the Death of his Daughter; he never ceased, by Vows, Prayers and Orisons, to Beg of the Almighty, that he would please to call her out of this World, and to take her to himself; as accordingly it came to pass; for soon after his return, she Died, at which he expressed a singular Joy. This seems to out do the other, forasmuch as the applies himself to this means at the first sight, which they only take subsidiarily, and besides, it was towards his only Daughter. But I will not omit the latter end of this Story, though it be from my purpose; St. Hilary's Wife having understood from him, how the Death of their Daughter was brought about, by his desires and design, and how much happier she was, to he removed out of this World, than to have stayed in it, conceived so Lively an Apprehension of the Eternal and Heavenly Beatitude, that she Begged of her Husband with the extremest Importunity, to do as much for her; and God, at their joint Request, shortly after calling her to him, it was a Death embraced on both sides, with singular Content.   

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

Catullus.  Conjugis ante coacta novi dimittere collum,  
Quam veniens una, atque altera rursus hyems,  
Noctibus in longis avidum saturasset amorem.  
Of her fair Arms, the Amorous Ring to break,  
Which clung so fast to her new Spouse's Neck,  
ere of two Winters many a friendly Night  
Had sated her Love's greedy Appetite.  to request him of Courtesy, to deliver up his Prisoner to her, as he accordingly did, the Gentlemen of France never denying any thing to Ladies. Does she not seem to be an Artist here? Constantine the Son of Helen, founded the Empire of Constantinople, and so many Ages after, Constantine the Son of Helen put an end to it. Sometimes she is pleased to Emulate our Miracles. We are told, that King Clovis Besieging Angolesme, the Walls fell down of themselves by Divine Favour. And Bouchet has it from some Author, that King Robert having sat down before a City, and being stole away from the Siege, to go keep the Feast of St. Aignan at Orleans; as he was in Devotion, at a certain place of the Mass, the Walls of the beleaguered City, without any manner of Violence, fell down with a sudden Ruin. But she did quite contrary in our Milan War; for Captain Rinse laying Siege to the City Verona, and having carried a Mine under a great part of the Wall, the Mine being sprung, the Wall was lifted from its base, but dropped down again nevertheless, whole and entire, and so exactly upon its foundation, that the Besieged suffered no Inconvenience by that Attempt. Sometimes she plays the Physician. Jason Phereus' being given over by the Physicians, by reason of a desperate Imposthumation in his Breast, having a mind to rid himself of his Pain, by Death at least, in a Battle, threw himself desperately into the thickest of the Enemy, where he was so fortunately wounded quite through the Body, that the Imposthume broke, and he was perfectly cured. Did she not also excel the painter Protogenes in his Art? Who having finished the Picture of a Dog quite tired, and out of breath, in all the other parts excellently well to his own liking, but not being able to express, as he would, the slaver and foam that should come out of his Mouth, vexed, and angry at his work, he took his Sponge, which by cleaning his Pencils, had imbibed several sorts of Colours, and threw it in a rage against the Picture, with an intent utterly to deface it; when Fortune guiding the Sponge to hit just upon the Mouth of the Dog, it there performed what all his Art was not able to do. Does she not sometimes direct our Counsels, and correct them? Isabel Queen of England, being to Sail from Zealand into her own Kingdom, with an Army in favour of her Son, against her Husband, had been lost, had she come into the Port she intended, being there laid wait for by the Enemy; but fortune against her will, threw her into another Haven, where she Landed in safety. And he who throwing a Stone at a Dog, hit, and killed, his Mother in Law, had he not reason to pronounce this Verse, 
Menander●  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; 
— By this I see,  
Fortune does better aim than we.  Fortune has more Judgement than we. Icetes had contracted with two Soldiers to Kill Timoleon, at Adranon in Sicily. These Villains took their time to do it, when he was assisting at a Sacrifice, who thrusting into the Crowd, as they were making signs to one another, that now was a fit time to do their business, in steps a third, who with a Sword takes one of them full drive over the Pate, lays him dead upon the place, and away he runs. Which the other seeing, and concluding himself discovered, and lost, he runs to the Altar, and begs for Mercy, promising to discover the whole truth, which as he was doing, and laying open the whole Conspiracy, behold the third Man, who being Apprehended, was, as a Murderer thrust and haled by the People through the Press, towards Timoleon, and other the most Eminent Persons of the Assembly, before whom being brought, he Cried out for Pardon, pleading that he had justly Slain his Father's Murderer; which he also proving upon the place, by sufficient Witnesses, which his good Fortune very opportunely supplied him withal, that his Father was really Killed in the City of the Leomins, by that very Man on whom he had taken his Revenge, he was presently Awarded Ten Attic 
* The old Attic Mine was 75 Drach.  Mines, for having had the good Fortune, by designing to revenge the Death of his Father, to preserve the Life of the common Father of Sicily. This Fortune in her Conduct, surpasses all the Rules of Humane Prudence. But, to conclude, is there not a direct Application, of her Favour, Bounty and Piety, manifestly discovered in this Action? Ignatius the Father, and Ignatius the Son, being proscribed by the Triumvity of Rome, resolved upon this generous Act of mutual kindness, to fall by the hands of one another, and by that means, to frustrate and defeat the Cruelty of the Tyrants; and accordingly, with their Swords drawn, ran full drive upon one another, where Fortune so guided the points, that they made two equally Mortal Wounds, affording withal so much Honour to so brave a Friendship, as to leave them just strength enough to draw out their Bloody Swords, that they might have liberty to embrace one another in this Dying Condition, with so close and hearty an Embrace, that the Executioners cut off both their Heads at once, leaving the Bodies still fast linked together in this Noble Knot, and their Wounds joined Mouth to Mouth, affectionately sucking in the last Blood, and remainder of the Lives of one another.   

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

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

Lucret. l. 4.  Proptereaque fere res omnes, aut corio sunt,  
Aut seta, aut conchis, aut callo, aut cortice tectae.  
Moreover all things, or with Skin, or Hair,  
Or Shell, or Bark, or Callus clothed are.  so were we: But as those who by Artificial Light put out that of the Day, so we by borrowed Forms and Fashions have destroyed our own. And 'tis plain enough to be seen, that 'tis Custom only which renders that impossible, that otherwise is nothing so; for of those Nations who have no manner of knowledge of Clothing, some are situated under the same Temperature that we are, and some in much Colder Climates. And besides, our most tender Parts are always exposed to the Air, as the Eyes, Mouth, Nose, and Ears; and our Country Labourers, like our Ancestors in former times, go with their Breasts and Bellies open. Had we been Born with a necessity upon us of wearing Petticoats and Breeches, there is no doubt, but Nature would have Fortified those Parts she intended should be exposed to the Fury of the Seasons, with a thicker Skin, as she has done the Finger ends, and the Soles of the Feet. And why should this seem hard to believe? I Observe much greater distance betwixt my Habit, and that of one of our Country Boors, than betwixt his, and a Man that has no other Covering but his Skin. How many Men, especially in Turkey, go naked upon the account of Devotion? I know not who would ask a Beggar, whom he should see in his Shirt in the depth of Winter, as Brisk and Frolic, as he who goes Muffled up to the Ears in Furs, how he is able to endure to go so? Why Sir, he might Answer, you go with your Face bare, and I am all Face. The Italians have a Story of the Duke of Florence his Fool, whom his Master Ask, How being so thin Clad, he was able to support the Cold, when he himself, warm wrapped as he was, was hardly able to do it? Why, replied the Fool, use my Receipt, to put on all your clothes you have at once, and you'll feel no more Cold, than I. King Massinissa to an extreme Old Age, could never be prevailed upon to go with his Head covered, how Cold, Stormy, or Rainy, soever the Wether might be: Which also is reported of the Emperor Severus. Herodotus tells us, that in the Battles fought betwixt the Egyptians, and the Persians, it was Observed both by himself, and others, that of those who were left Dead upon the place, the Heads of the egyptians were found to be without comparison harder, than those of the Persians, by reason that the last had gone with their Heads always covered from their Infancy, first, with Biggins, and then with Turbans, and the others always shaved, and open. And King Agesilaus observed to a decrepit Age, to wear always the same clothes in Winter, that he did in Summer. Caesar, says Suetonius, Marched always at the Head of his Army, for the most part on foot, with his Head bare, whether it was Rain, or Sunshine, and as much is said of Hannibal.  

Silius It. li. 6. 1. — Tum vertice nudo,  
Excipere insanos imbres, Coelique ruinam.  
Bare Head to March in Snow, and when it pours  
Whole Cataracts of cold unwholesome showers.  
A Venetian who has long Lived in Pegu, and is lately returned from thence, writes, that the Men and Women of that Kingdom, though they cover all their other Parts, go always Barefoot, and Ride so too. And Plato does very earnestly advise, for the health of the whole Body, to give the Head and the Feet no other Clothing, than what Nature has bestowed. He whom the Polacks have Elected for their King, since ours came thence, who is indeed one of the greatest Princes of this Age, never wears any Gloves, and for Winter, or whatever Wether can come, never wears other Cap abroad, than the same he wears at home. Whereas I cannot endure to go unbuttoned, or untied; our Neighbouring Labourers would think themselves in Chains, if they were so braced. Varro is of Opinion, that when it was Ordained, we should be bare in the presence of the Gods, and before the Magistrate, it was rather so Ordered, upon the score of health, and to Inure us to the Injuries of Wether, than upon the account of Reverence. And since we are now talking of Cold, and French men used to wear variety of Colours, (not I myself, for I seldom wear other than Black, or White, in Imitation of my Father,) let us add another Story of Captain Martin du Bellay, who affirms, that in the Voyage of Luxemburg, he saw so great Frosts, that the Ammunition Wine was cut with Hatchets, and Wedges; was delivered out to the Soldiers by Weight, and that they carried it away in Baskets: and Ovid,  

Ovid. Trist. l. 3. El. 12.  Nudaque consistunt formam servantia testae  
Vina, nec hausta meri, sed data frusta bibunt.  
— The Wine  
Stripped of its Cask, retains the Figure still,  
Nor do they Draughts, but Crusts of Bacchus' swill.  
At the Mouth of the Lake Moeotis, the Frosts are so very sharp, that in the very same place where Mithridates his Lieutenant had Fought the Enemy dryfoot, and given them a notable Defeat, the Summer following he obtained over them a Famous Naval Victory. The Romans Fought at a very great disadvantage, in the Engagement they had with the Carthaginians near Placentia, by reason, that they went on to Charge with their Blood fixed, and their Limbs Numbed with Cold, whereas Hannihal had caused great Fires to be dispersed quite through his Camp to warm his Soldiers, and Oil to be distributed amongst them; to the end, that Anointing themselves, they might render their Nerves more Supple and Active, and sortifie the Pores against the violence of the Air, and Freezing Wind, that Raged in that Season. The Retreat the Greeks made from Babylon into their own Country, is Famous, for the Difficulties and Calamities they had to overcome. Of which, this was one, that being Encountered in the Mountains of Armenia, with a horrible Storm of Snow, they lost all knowledge of the Country, and of the ways, and being driven up, were a Day and a Night without Eating or Drinking; most of their cattle died, many of themselves Starved Dead, several struck Blind with the driving, and the glittering of the Snow, many of them Maimed in their Fingers and Toes, and many Stiff and Motionless with the extremity of the Cold, who had yet their Understanding entire. Alexander saw a Nation, where they Bury the Fruit-Trees is Winter, to defend them from being destroyed by the Frost, and we also may see the same. But concerning clothes, the King of Mexico changed four times a Day his Apparel, and never put them on more, employing those he left off, in his continual Liberalities and Rewards, as also, neither Pot, Dish, nor other Utensil of his Kitchen, or Table, was ever served in Twice.   

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

H●race Ep. 6. l. 1. — Virtutem verba putant, ut  
Lucum ligna:  
Words finely couched, these Men for Virtue take;  
As if each Wood a Sacred Grove could make.  
Quam vereri deberent, etiam si percipere non possent. Which they ought to Reverence, 
Cicero Tus. 1.  though they cannot Comprehend. 'Tis a Gewgaw to hang in a Cabinet, or at the end of the Tongue, as on the tip of the Ear, for Ornament only. There is no more Virtuous Actions exstant, and those Actions that carry a show of Virtue, have yet nothing of its Essence; by reason, that Profit, Glory, Fear and Custom, and other such like foreign Causes, put us in the way to produce them. Our Justice also, Valour, and good Offices, may then be called so too, in respect to others, and according to the face they appear with to the Public; but in the doer it can by no means be Virtue, because there is another end proposed, another moving cause. Now virtue owns nothing to be hers, but what is done by herself, and for herself alone. In that great Battle of Potidaea, that the Greeks under the Command of Pausanias obtained against Mardonius, and the Persians, the conquerors, according to their Custom, coming to divide amongst them the Glory of the Exploit, they attributed to the Spartan Nation the Pre-eminence of Valour in this Engagement. The Spartans', great Judges of Virtue, when they came to determine, to what particular Man of their Nation the Honour was due, of having the best Behaved himself upon this occasion, found, that Aristodemus had of all others hazarded his Person with the greatest Bravery: but did not however allow him any Prize, or Reward; by reason that his Virtue had been incited by a desire, to clear his Reputation from the Reproach of his Miscarriage at the Business of Thermopylae, and with a desire to Die Bravely, to wipe off that former Blemish. Our Judgements are yet sick, and Obey the Humour of our depraved Manners. I Observe most of the Wits of these Times pretend to Ingenuity, by endeavouring to blemish and to darken the Glory of the Bravest and most Generous Actions of former Ages, putting one Vile Interpretation or another upon them, and forging and supposing vain Causes and Motives for those Noble things they did. A mighty subtlety indeed? Give me the greatest and most unblemished Action that ever the Day beheld, and I will contrive a Hundred plausible Drifts and Ends to obscure it: God knows, whoever will stretch them out to the full, what diversity of Images our internal Wills do suffer under; they do not so Maliciously play the Censurers, as they do it Ignorantly and Rudely in all their Detractions. The same pains and licence that others take to Blemish and Bespatter these illustrious Names, I would willingly undergo to lend them a shoulder to raise them higher. These rare Images, and that are culled out by the consent of the wisest Men of all Ages, for the World's Example, I should endeavour to Honour anew, as far as my Invention would permit, in all the Circumstances of favourable Interpretation. And we are to believe, that the force of our Invention is infinitely short of their Merit. 'Tis the Duty of good Men to Portray Virtues as Beautiful as they can, and there would be no Indecency in the Case, should our Passion a little Transport us in favour of so Sacred a Form. What these People do to the contrary, they either do out of Malice, or by the Vice of confining their Belief to their own Capacity; or, which I am more inclined to think, for not having their sight strong, clear and elevated enough, to conceive the splendour of Virtue in her Native Purity: As Plutarch complains, that in his time some Attributed the cause of the Younger Cato's Death, to his Fear of Caesar, at which he seems very Angry, and with good reason: and by that a Man may guests how much more he would have been offended with those, who have Attributed it to Ambitious Senseless People! He would rather have performed a handsome, just and generous Action, and to have had Ignominy for his Reward, than for Glory. That Man was in truth a Pattern, that Nature chose out to show to what height Humane Virtue and Constancy could arrive: but I am not capable of handling so Noble an Argument, and shall therefore only set five Latin Poets together by the Ears, who has done best in the praise of Cato; and inclusively for their own too. Now a Man well Read in Poetry, will think the two first, in comparison of the others, a little Flat and Languishing; the Third more Vigorous, but overthrown by the Extravagancy of his own force. He will then think, that there will be yet room for one or two Gradations of Invention to come to the Fourth; but coming to mount the pitch of that, he will lift up his Hands for admiration; the last, the first by some space, (but a space that he will swear is not to be filled up by any Humane Wit,) he will be astonished, he will not know where he is. These are Wonders. We have more Poets, than Judges and Interpreters of Poetry. It is easier to Write an indifferent Poem, than to understand a good one. There is indeed a certain low and moderate sort of Poetry, that a Man may well enough judge by certain Rules of Art; but the true, supreme and divine Poesy, is equally above all Rules and Reason. And whoever discerns the Beauty of it, with the most assured and most steady sight, sees no more than the quick reflection of a Flash of Lightning. This is a sort of Poesy, that does not exercise, but ravishes and overwhelms our Judgement. The Fury that possesses him who is able to penetrate into it, wounds yet a Third Man by hearing him repeat it. Like a Loadstone, that not only attracts the Needle, but also infuses into it the Virtue to attract others. And it is more evidently Eminent upon our Theatres, that the Sacred Inspiration of the Muses, having first stirred up the Poet to Anger, Sorrow, Hatred, and out of himself, to whatever they will, does moreover by the Poet possess the Actor, and by the Actor consecutively all the Spectators. So much do our Passions hang and depend upon one another. Poetry has ever had that power over me from a Child, to Transpierce and Transport me: But this quick resentment that is Natural to me, has been variously handled by Variety of Forms, not so much higher and lower, (for they were ever the highest of every kind,) as differing in Colour. First, a Gay and Sprightly Fluency, afterwards a Lofty and Penetrating Subtlety; and lastly, a Mature and Constant Force. Their Names will better express them; Ovid, Lucan, Virgil. But our Poets are beginning their Career.  
Mart. lib. 6. Epig. 32.  Sat Cato dum vivit fama vel Caesare Major. 
— Let Cato's Fame,  
Whilst he shall Live, Eclipse great Caesar's Name.  
Says one.  
Manil, — Et invictum devicta Morte Catonem. 
And Cato fell,  
Death being overcome, invincible.  
Says the Second. And the Third speaking of the Civil Wars betwixt Caesar and Pompey.  
Lucan. l. 1.  Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed Victa Catoni. 
— Heaven approves,  
The Conquering Cause, the Conquered Cato loves.  
And the Fourth upon the Praises of Caesar,  

Hor. Car. lib. 2. Od. 1.  Et cuncta terrarum subjecta,  
Praeter atrocem animum Catonis.  
And Conquered all where ere his Eagle flew,  
But Cato's Mind, that nothing could subdue.  
And the Master of the Choir, after having set forth all the great Names of the greatest Romans, ends thus.  
Aeneid. l. 8 — His dantem jura Catonem. Great Cato giving Laws to all the rest.  

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

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

Lucret. lib. 9  Tutumque putavit  
jam bonus esse socer, lacrymas non sonte cadentes  
Effudit, gemitusque expressit pectore laeto,  
Non aliter manifesta putans abscondere mentis  
Gaudia, quam Lacrymas.  
And now he saw  
'Twas safe to be a Pious Father-in-Law,  
He shed forced Tears, and from a Joyful Breast,  
Fetched Sighs and Groans; conceiving Tears would best  
Conceal his inward Joy.  
For though it be true, that the greatest part of our Actions, are no other than Vizor and Disguise, and yet may sometimes be Real and True: that,  

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

Catul. Num. 67.  Estne novis nuptis odio Venus, arm parentum  
Frustrantur falsis gaudia lachrymulis,  
Ubertim Thalami quas intra limina fundunt?  
Non, ita me Divi, vera gemunt, juverint.  
Does the Fair Bride the Sport so mainly Dread,  
That she takes on so, when she's put to Bed,  
Her Parents Joys t' allay with a feigned Tear  
She does not Cry in Earnest, I dare Swear.  
Neither is it strange to lament a person, whom a man would by no means should be alive: When I rattle my man, I do it with all the mettle I have, and load him with no feigned, but downright real Curses; but the heat being over, if he should stand in need of me, I should be very ready to do him good: for I instantly turn the leaf. When I call him Calf and Coxcomb, I do not pretend to entail those titles upon him for ever; neither do I think I give myself the lie in calling him an honest man presently after. Were it not the sign of a fool to talk to ones self, there would hardly be a day or hour wherein I might not be heard to grumble, and mutter to myself and against myself; Turd in the fools teeth, and yet I do not think that to be my Character. Who for seeing me one while cold, and presently very kind to my Wife, believes the one or the other to be counterfeited, is an Ass. Nero taking leave of his Mother, whom he sent to be drowned, was nevertheless sensible of some emotion at this farewell, and was struck with horror, and Pity. 'Tis said, that the light of the Sun is not one continuous thing, but that he darts new rays so thick one upon another, that we cannot perceive the intermission.  

Lucret. l. 5.  Largus enim liquidi fons luminis aethereus Sol  
Irrigat assidue coelum candore recenti,  
Suppetit atque novo confestim lumine lumen.  
For the aethereal Sun that shines so bright,  
Being a fountain large of liquid light,  
With fresh Rays sprinkles still the cheerful Sky,  
And with new light, the light does still supply.  
Just so the Soul variously and interceptibly darts out her Passions. Artabarus surprising once his Nephew Xerxes, Chid him for the sudden alteration of his Countenance. As he was considering the immeasurable Greatness of his Forces passing over the Hellespont, for the Grecian Expedition, he was first seized with a palpitation of Joy, to see so many Millions of Men under his Command, which also appeared in the gaiety of his Looks: But his Thoughts at the same instant suggesting to him, that of so many Lives, once in an Age at most, there would not be one left, he presently Knit his Brows, and grew Sad, even to Tears. We have resolutely pursued the Revenge of an Injury received, and been sensible of a singular Contenement for the Victory: But we shall Weep notwithstanding: 'tis not for the Victory, though that we shall Weep: there is nothing altered by that: but the Soul looks upon things with another Eye, and represents them to itself with another kind of Face; for every thing has many Faces, and several Aspects. Relations, old Acquaintance, and Friendships, possess our Imaginations, and make them tender for the time: but the Counterturn is so quick, that 'tis gone in a Moment.  

Lucret. l. 3.  Nil à Deo fieri celeri ratione videtur,  
Quam si mens fieri proponit, & inchoat ipsa.  
Ocius ergo animus quam res se perciet ulla,  
Ante oculos quarum in promptu natura videtur.  
No Motions seem so brisk, and quick as those  
The working mind does to be done propose.  
Which once proposed, her violent motions are  
Swifter than any thing we know by far.  
And therefore, while we would make one continued thing of all this succession of passion, we deceive ourselves. When Timoleon laments the murder he had committed upon so mature, and generous deliberation, he does not lament the liberty restored to his Country, he does not lament the Tyrant, but he laments his Brother: One part of his duty is performed, let us give him leave to perform the other.   

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

juven. Sat. 13.  Rari quippe boni numero vix sunt totidem quot  
Thebarum portae vel divit is ostia Nili.  
Because the number of the Good's as few  
As Thebes fair Gates; or rich Nile mouths do spew.  
the contagion is very dangerous in the Crown. A man must either imitate the vicious, or hate them: Both are dangerous, either to resemble them, because they are many, or to hare many, because they are unresembling. And Merchants that go to Sea are in the right when they are cautious that those who embark with them in the same bottom, be neither dissolute Blasphemers, nor vicious otherways; looking upon such society as unfortunate. And therefore it was, that Bias pleasantly said to some, who being with him in adangerous storm, implored the assistance of the Gods, Peace, speak softly, said he, that they may not know you are here in my company: And of more pressing example. Albuquerque Vice Roy in the Indies, for Emanuel King of Portugal, in an extreme peril of Shipwreck, took a young Boy upon his Shoulders, for this only end, that in the Society of their common danger, his innocency might serve to protect him, and to recommend him to the Divine favour, that they might get safe to Shoar: 'Tis not that a Wise Man may not live every where content, either alone, or in the crowd of a Palace: But if it be left to his one choice, he will tell you, that he would fly the very sight of the latter; he can endure it if need be; but if it be referred to him, he will choose the first. He cannot think himself sufficiently rid of Vice, if he must yet contend with it in other Men: Charondas Punished those for ill Men, who were Convict of keeping of ill Company. There is nothing so Unsociable, and Sociable, as Man, the one by his Vice, the other by his Nature. And Antisthenes in my opinion, did not give him a satisfactory Answer, who Reproached him with frequenting ill Company, by saying, That the Physicians Lived well enough amongst the Sick: for if they contribute to the health of the Sick, no doubt, but by the Contagion, continual sight of, and familiarity with Diseases, they must of necessity impair their own. Now the end I suppose is all one, to Live at more leisure, and at greater ease: but Men do not always take the right way; for they often think they have totally taken leave of all Business, when they have only exchanged one Employment for another. There is little less trouble in Governing a private Family, than a whole Kingdom: wherever the Mind is perplexed, it is in an entire disorder, and Domestic Employments are not less troublesome, for being less important. Moreover, for having shaked off the Court, and Public Employments, we have not taken leave of the principal Vexations of Life.  

Hor. lib. 1. Epist. 11. — Ratio, & prudentia curas,  
Non locus effusi late maris arbiter aufert.  
Reason and Prudence, our Affections ease,  
Not remote Voyages, on unknown Seas.  
Our Ambition, our Avarice, Irresolution, Fears, and Inordinate Desires, do not leave us when we forsake our Native Country:  
Hor. lib. 3. Ode 1.  Et post equitem sedet atra cura. 
And who does mount his horse to this, will find,  
He carries Black-browed Madam Care behind.  
She oft follows us even to Cloisters, and Philosophical Schools; nor Deserts, nor Caves, Hair-shirts, nor Fasts, can disengage us from her:  
— Haeret lateri lethalis arundo. 
Virg. Ae. l. 4.   
The fatal Shaft sticks to the wounded Side.  
One telling Socrates, that such a one was nothing Improved by his Travels. I very well believe it, said he, for he took himself along with him.  

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

Perseus. Sat. 5. — Rupi jam vincula, dicas,  
Nam luctata canis nodum arripit, attamen illa  
Cum fugit, à collo trahitur pars longa catenae.  
Thou'lt say perhaps, that thou hast broke the Chain,  
Why, so the Dog has gnawed the Knot in ' twain  
That tied him there, but as he flies, he feels  
The ponderous Chain still rattling at his heels.  
We still carry our Fetters along with us; 'tis not an absolute Liberty, we yet cast back a kind Look upon what we have left behind us; the Fancy is still full of our old way of Living.  

Lucret. l. 5. — Nisi purgatum est pectus, quae praelia nobis,  
Atque pericula tunc ingratis insinuandum?  
Quantae conscindunt hominum cupidinis acres  
Sollicitum curae, quantique perinde timores?  
Quidve superbia, spurcitia, ac petulantia, quantas  
Efficiunt clades, quid luxus, desidiesque?  
Unless the Mind be Purged, what Conflicts straight,  
And Dangers will it not insinuate?  
The Lustful Man, how many bitter Cares,  
Do gall, and fret, and then how many Fears?  
What Horrid Mischiefs, what Dire Slaughters too  
Will not Pride, Lust, and Petulancy do?  
And what from Luxury can we expect,  
And Sloth; but all the ill ill can effect?  
The Mind itself is the Disease, and cannot escape from itself;  
Hor. l. 1. Ep. 14.  In culpa est animus, qui se non effugit unquam. 
Still in the Mind the Fault does lie,  
That never from itself can fly.  
and therefore is to be called home, and confined within itself; that is the true Solitude, and that may be enjoyed even in Populous Cities, and the Courts of Kings, though more commodiously a part.  
Now since we will attempt to Live alone, and to wave all manner of Conversation amongst Men, let us so Order it, that our Contentation may depend wholly upon ourselves, and dissolve all Obligations that Ally us to others: Let us obtain this from ourselves that we may Live alone in good earnest, and Live at our ease too. Stilpo having escaped from the Fire that Consumed the City where he Lived, and where he had his Wife, Children, Goods, and all that ever he was Master of, destroyed by the Flame; Demetrius Poliorcetes seeing him in so great a Ruin of his Country, appear with so Serene and Undisturbed a Countenance, asked him, if he had received no Loss? To which he made Answer, No; and that, thanks be to God, nothing was lost of his; which also was the meaning of the Philosopher Antisthenes, when he pleasantly said, That Men should only furnish themselves with such things as would Swim, and might with the Owner escape the Storm; and certainly, a Wise Man never loses any thing, if he have himself. When the City of Nola was Ruined by the Barbarians, Paulinus, who was Bishop of that place, having there lost all he had, and himself a Prisoner, Prayed after this manner, O Lord, defend me from being sensible of this Loss; for thou knowest, they have yet touched nothing of that which is mine; The Riches that made him Rich, and the Goods that made him Good, were still kept entire. This it is to make choice of Treasures, that can secure themselves from Plunder and Violence, and to hid them in such a place, into which no one can enter, and that are not to be betrayed by any but ourselves. Wives, Children and Goods, must be had, and especially Health, by him that can get it; but we are not so to set our Hearts upon them, that our Happiness must have its dependence upon any of these; we must reserve a Back-shop, a Withdrawing Room, wholly our own, and entirely free wherein to settle our true Liberty, our principal Solitude and Retreat. And in this, we must for the most part entertain ourselves with ourselves, and so privately, that no Knowledge, or Communication, of any Exotic Concern, be admitted there, there to Laugh and to Talk, as if without Wife, Children, Goods, Train, or Attendance, to the end, that when it shall so fall out, that we must lose any, or all of these, it may be no new thing to be without them. We have a Mind pliable of itself, that will be Company, has wherewithal to attack, and to defend, to receive, and to give: Let us not then fear in this Solitude, to Languish under an uncomfortable Vacancy.  In solis sis tibi turba locis. 
In Solitary places be  
Unto thyself good Company.  
Virtue is satisfied with herself, without Discipline, without Words, without Effects. In our ordinary actions, there is not one of a thousand that concerns ourselves: He that thou seest Scambling up the Ruins of that Wall, Furious, and Transported, against whom so many Harquebus Shot are levelled; and that other all over Scars, Pale, and Fainting with Hunger, and yet resolved rather to Die, than to open his Gate to HIm, dost thou think that these Men are there upon their own account? No, peradventure in the behalf of one whom they never saw, and that never concerns himself for their Pains, and Danger, but lies Wallowing the while in Sloth, and Pleasure: This other Slavering, Blear-eyed, Slovenly Fellow, that thou seest come out of his Study after Midnight, dost thou think he has been Tumbling over Books, to Learn how to become a better Man, Wiser, and more Content: No such matter, he will there end his Days, but he will teach Posterity the measure of Plautus his Verses, and the Orthography of a Latin Word: Who is it that does not Voluntarily exchange his Health, his Repose, and his very Life for Reputation, and Glory? The most Useless, Frivolous, and false Coin that passes currant amongst us: Our own Death does not sufficiently terrify, and trouble us, let us moreover charge ourselves, with those of our Wives, Children, and Family: Our own affairs do not afford us anxiety enough, let us undertake those of our Neighbours, and Friends, still more to break our Brains, and torment us.  

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

Hor. l. 1. Epist. 15. — tuta, & parvula laudo,  
Cum res deficiunt, satis inter vilia fortis:  
Verum ubi quid melius contigit, & unctius idem  
Hos sapere, & solos aio bene vivere, quorum  
Conspicitur nitidis fundata pecunia villis.  
Where plenty fails,  
A secure competency I like well,  
And love the Man disaster cannot quell:  
But when good Fortune with a liberal hand  
Her gifts bestows; those Men I understand  
Alone happy to live, and to be Wise,  
Whose Money does in neat built Villas rise.  
A great deal less would serve my turn well enough. 'Tis enough for me under Fortune's favour to prepare myself for her Disgrace, and being at my ease to represent to myself, as far as my imagination can Stretch, the ill to come; as we do at Justs, and Tilt, where we counterfeit War in the greatest Calm of Peace. I do not think Arcesilaus the Philosopher the less Temperate, and Reformed, for knowing that he made use of Gold, and Silver Vessels, when the condition of his Fortune allowed him so to do: But have a better Opinion of him, than if he had denied himself what he used with Liberality, and Moderation. I see the utmost Limits of Natural necessity, and considering a Poor Man Begging at my Door, of-times more Jocund, and more Healthy than I myself am, I put myself into his place, and attempt to dress my Mind after his Mode, and running in like manner over other examples, though I fancy Death, Poverty, Contempt, and Sickness treading on my Heels, I easily resolve not to be affrighted, forasmuch as a less than I takes them with so much Patience, and am not willing to believe that a less understanding can do more than a greater; or that the effects of precept cannot arrive to as great a height, as those of Custom: And knowing of how uncertain duration these accidental conveniences are, I never forget, in the height of all my enjoyments, to make it my chiefest Prayer to Almighty God, that he will please to render me content with myself; and the Condition wherein I am. I see several Young Men very Gay, and Frolic; who nevertheless keep a Mass of Pills in their Trunk at home, to take when the Rheum shall fall, which they fear so much the less, because they think they have Remedy at hand: Every one should do the same, and moreover if they find themselves subject to some more violent Disease, should furnish themselves with such Medicines as may Numb and Stupisie the part: The employment a Man should choose for a Sedentary Life, ought neither to be a Laborious, nor an unpleasing one, otherwise 'tis to no purpose at all to be retired, and this depends upon every one's liking, and humour; mine has no manner of complacency for Husbandry, and such as Love it, aught to apply themselves to it with Moderation.  
Hor. Ep. 1.  Conantur sibi res, non se submittere rebus. 
A Man should to himself his Business fit,  
But should not to Affairs himself submit.  
Husbandry is otherwise a very Servile Employment, as Sallust tells us; though some parts of it are more excusable than the rest, as the Care of Gardens, which Zenophon attributes to Cyrus and a mean may be found out betwixt Sordid and Homely Affection, so full of perpetual Solitude, which is seen in Men who make it their entire Business and Study, and that stupid and extreme Negligence, letting all things go at Random, we see in others.  

Hor. Ep. 12. — Democriti pecus edit agellos,  
Cultaque, dum peregre est animus sine corpore velox.  
Democritus his cattle spoils his Corn,  
Whilst he from thence on Fancy's Wings is born.  
But let us hear what Advice the Younger Pliny gives his Friend 
* Caninius Rufus.  Cornelius Rufus, upon the Subject of Solitude; I advise thee, in the plentiful Retirement wherein thou art, to leave to thy Hinds, and inferior Servants, the Care of thy Husbandry, and to addict thyself to the Study of Letters, to extract from thence something that may be entirely and absolutely thine own. By which, he means Reputation; like Cicero, who says, that he would employ his Solitude and Retirement, from Public Affairs, to acquire by his Writings an Immortal Life.  

Per. Sat. 1. — Usque adeo ne  
Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter?  
Is all thy Learning nothing, unless thou,  
That thou art Knowing, make all others know?  
It appears to be reason, when a Man talks of Retiring from the World, that he should look quite out of himself. These do it but by halves. They design well enough for themselves, 'tis true, when they shall be no more in it; but still they pretend to extract the fruits of that Design from the World, when absented from it, by a Ridiculous Contradiction. The Imagination of those who seek Solitude, upon the account of Devotion, filling their Hopes with certainty of Divine Promises in the other Life, is much more rationally founded. They propose to themselves Gods, an infinite Object in Goodness and Power. The Soul has there wherewithal, at full liberty, to satiate her Desires. Afflictions and Sufferings turn to their advantage, being undergone for the acquisition of an eternal Health, and everlasting Joys. Death is to be wished and longed for, where it is the passage to so perfect a Condition. And the Tartness of these severe Rules they impose upon themselves, is immediately taken away by Custom, and all their Carnal Appetites baffled and subdued, by refusing to humour and feed them; they being only supported by use and exercise. This sole end therefore, of another happy and immortal Life, is that which really merits, that we should abandon the Pleasures and conveniences of this. And who can really and constantly inflame his Soul with the Ardour of this Lively Faith and Hope, does erect for himself in this Solitude, a more Voluptuous and Delicious Life, than any other sort of Living whatever. Neither the end then, nor the means of this Advice, of Pliny pleases me, for we often fall out of the Frying-pan into the Fire. This Book Employment is as painful as any other, and as great an Enemy to Health, which ought to be the first thing in every Man's prospect; neither ought a Man to be allured with the pleasure of it, which is the same that destroys the Wary, Avaricious, Voluptuous and Ambitious Men. The Wise give us Caution enough, to beware the Treachery of our Desires, and to distinguish true and entire Pleasures, from such as are mixed and complicated with greater Pain. For the greatest part of Pleasures, (say they,) Wheedle and Caress, only to strangle us, like those Thiefs the Egyptians called Philiste; and if the Headache should come before Drunkenness, we should have a care of Drinking too much: but Pleasure to deceive us, Marches before, and conceals her Train. Books are pleasant, but if by being over Studious, we impair our Health, and spoil our good Humour, two of the best pieces we have, let us give it over; for I for my part am one of those who think, that no Fruit derived from them, can recompense so great a Loss. As Men who feel themselves weakened by a long Series of Indisposition, give themselves up at last to the Mercy of Medicine, and submit to certain Rules of Living, which they are for the future never to Transgress; so he who Retires, weary of, and disgusted, with the common way of Living, aught to model this new One he enters into, by the Rules of Reason, and to Institute and Establish it by Premeditation, and after the best Method he can contrive. He ought to have taken leave of all sorts of Labour, what advantage soever he may propose to himself by it, and generally to have shaken off all those Passions which disturb the Tranquillity of Body and Soul, and then choose the Way that best suits with his own Humour:  
Propert. lib. Eleg. 25.  Unusquisque sua noverit ire via: 
Every one best doth know,  
In his own Way to go.  
In Menagery, Study, Hunting, and all other Exercises, Men are to proceed to the utmost limits of Pleasure, but must take heed of engaging further, where Solitude and Trouble begin to mix. We are to reserve so much Employment only, as is necessary to keep us in Breath, and to defend us from the Inconveniences, that the other Extreme, of a Dull and Stupid Laziness brings along with it. There are some Sterile, Knotty Sciences, and chief Hammered out for the Crowd; let such be left to them who are Engaged in the Public Service: I for my part care for no other Books, but either such, as are pleasant and easy, to delight me, or those, that comfort and instruct me, how to Regulate my Life and Death.  

Hor. Ep. 44. lib. 1.  Tacitum sylvas inter reptare salubres,  
Curantem quidquid dignum sapiente bonoque est.  
Silently Meditating in the Groves,  
What best, a Wise and Honest Man behoves.  
Wiser Men propose to themselves a Repose wholly Spiritual, as having great force and vigour of Mind; but for me, who have a very ordinary Soul, I find it very necessary, to support myself with Bodily Conveniences; and Age having of late deprived me of those Pleasures that were most acceptable to me, I instruct and whet my Appetite to those that remain, and are more suitable to this other season. We ought to hold with all our force, both of Hands and Teeth, the use of the Pleasures of Life, that our Years, one after another, snatch away from us.  

Persius, Sat. 5.  Carpamus dulcia, nostrum est,  
Quod vivis, cinis, & manes, & fabula fies.  
Let us enjoy Life's Sweets, for shortly we,  
Ashes, Pale Ghosts, and Fables, all shall be.  
Now as to the End, that Pliny and Cicero propose to us, of Glory; 'tis infinitely wide of my account; for Ambition, is of all other, the most contrary Humour to Solitude; and Glory and Repose are so inconsistent, that they cannot possibly Inhabit in one and the same place; and for so much as I understand, those have only their Arms and Legs disengaged from the Crowd, their Mind and Intention remain engaged behind more than ever.  
Perseus, Sat. 1.  Tun ', vetule, auriculis alienis colligis escas? 
Dost thou, Old Dotard, at these Years,  
Gather fine Tales for others Ears?  
They are only Retired to take a better Leap, and by a stronger Motion, to give a brisker Charge into the Crowd. Will you see how they shoot short? Let us put into the Counterpoise the Advice of two Philosophers, of two very different Sects, Writing, the one to Idomeneus, the other to Lucilius, their Friends, to Retire into Solitude from Worldly Honours, and the Administration of Public Affairs. You have, say they, hitherto Lived Swimming and Floating, come now, and Die in the Harbour: You have given the first part of your Life to the Light, give what remains to the Shade. It is impossible to give over Business, if you do not also quit the Fruit, and therefore disengage yourselves from all the Concerns of Name and Glory. 'Tis to be feared, the Lustre of your former Actions will give you but too much Light, and follow you into your most private, and most obscure Retreat: Quit with other Pleasures, that which proceeds from the Approbation of another: And as to your Knowledge and Parts, never concern yourselves, they will not lose their effect, if yourselves be ever the better for them. Remember him, who being asked, why he took so much Pains in an Art, that could come to the Knowledge of but few Persons? A few are enough for me, replied he, I have enough of one, I have enough of never a one. He said true, you, and a Companion, are Theatre enough to one another, or you to yourself. Let us be to you the whole People, and the whole People to you but one: 'Tis an unworthy Ambition, to think to derive Glory from a Man's Sloth and Privacy: You are to do like the Beasts of Chase, who put out the Track at the entrance into their Den. You are no more to concern yourself, how the World talks of you, but how you are to talk to yourself: Retire yourself into yourself, but first prepare yourself there to receive yourself: It were a folly to trust yourself in your own Hands, if you cannot Govern yourself, a Man may as well miscarry alone, as in Company, till you have rendered yourself as such, as before whom you dare not Trip and till you have a Bashfulness and Respect for yourself, Observantur species honestae animo, 
Cicero Tusc. Quaest. 1, 2.  Let just and honest things be still Represented to the Mind. Present continually to you Imagination, Cato, Photion and Aristides, in whose presence, the Fools themselves will hid their Faults; and make them Controulers of all your Intentions. Should they deviate from Virtue, your Respect to them will again set you right; they will keep you in the way of being Contented with yourself, to Borrow nothing of any other but yourself; to restrain and fix your Soul in certain and limited Thoughts, wherein she may please herself, and having understood the true and real Goods, which Men the more enjoy, the more they understand, to rest satisfied, without desire of prolongation of Life or Memory. This is the Precept of the True and Natural Philosophy, not of a Boasting and Prating Philosophy, such as that of the two former.   

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

Hor. Carm.  Imperet bellante prior jucentem  
Lenis in hostem.  
First let his Empire from his valour flow,  
And then, by mercy on a prostrate foe.  
'Tis not his profession to know either how to Hunt, or to Dance well.  

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

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

Luc. l. 4.  Mors utinam pavidos vitae subducere nolles,  
Sed virtus te sola daret!  
O Death, I would thou wouldst the Coward spare,  
That but the daring none might thee confer.  
But let us leave these Glorious Courages. Theodorus answered Lysimachus, who threatened to Kill him, Thou wilt do a brave thing, said he, to arrive at the force of a Cantharideses. The greatest part of Philosophers, are observed to have either purposely prevented, or hastened, and assisted their own Death. How many ordinary people do we see led to Execution, and that not to a simple Death, but mixed with Shame, and sometimes with grievous Torments, appear with such assurance, what through obstinacy, or natural simplicity, that a Man can discover no change from their ordinary condition; Settling their Domestic Affairs, recommending them to their Friends, Singing, Preaching, and Diverting the People so much, as sometimes to Sally into Jests, and to Drink to their Companions, as well as Socrates. One that they were leading to the Gallows, told them they must not carry him through such a Street, lest a Merchant that lived there, should arrest him by the way, for an old Debt. Another told the Hangman, he must not touch his Neck, for fear of making him Laugh he was so Ticklish. Another answered his Confessor, who promised him he should that day Sup with our Lord. Do you go then, said he, in my Room; for I for my part keep fast to day. Another having called for Drink, and the Hangman having Dran● first, said he would not Drink after him, for fear of catching the Pox. Every body has heard the Tale of the Picard, to whom being upon the Ladder they presented a Whore, telling him (as our I awe does sometimes permit!) that if he would Marry her, they would save his Life, he having a while considered her, and perceiving that she Halted, Come tie up, tie up, said he, she limps. And they tell another Story of the same kind, of a fellow in Denmark, who being condemned to lose his Head, and the like condition being proposed to him upon the Scaffold, refused it, by reason the Maid they offered him, had hollow Cheeks, and too sharp a Nose. A Servant at Tholouse being accused of Heresy, for the sum of his Belief, referred himself to that of his Master, a young Student Prisoner with him, choosing rather to die, than suffer himself to be persuaded, that his Master could err. We read that of the Inhabitants of Arras, when Lewis the eleventh took that City, a great many let themselves be Hanged, rather than they would say, God save the King. And amongst that mean-souled race of Men, the Buffoons, there having been some, who would not leave their Fooling at the very moment of Death. He that the Hangman turned off the Ladder cried, Launch the Galley, an ordinary foolish saying of his; and the other, whom at the point of Death his Friends having laid upon a Pallet before the Fire, the Physician ask him where his Pain lay, betwixt the Bench and the Fire, said he, and the Priest, to give him the extreme Unction, Groping for his Feet, which his Pain had made him pull up to him, you will find them, said he, at the end of my Legs. To one that being present exhorted him to recommend himself to God, why, who goes thither? said he, and the other replying, it will presently be yourself, if it be his good pleasure; would I were sure to be there by to Morrow Night, said he; do but recommend yourself to him said the other, and you will soon be there: I were best then, said he, to carry my recommendations myself. In the Kingdom of Narsingua to this day, the Wives of their Priests, are buried alive with the Bodies of their Husbands; all other Wives are burnt at their Husband's Funerals, which also they do not only constantly, but cheerfully undergo: At the death of their King, his Wives, and Concubines, his Favourites, all his Officers, and Domestic servants, which make up a great number of people, present themselves so cheerfully to the Fire, where his Body is burnt, that they seem to take it for a singular honour, to accompany their Master in Death. During our late War of Milan, where there happened so many take, and re-taking of Towns, the people impatient of so many various changes of Fortune, took such a resolution to die, that I have heard my Father say, he there saw a List taken of five and twenty masters of Families, that made themselves away in one week's time: An accident somewhat resembling that of the Zanthians, who being besieged by Brutus, precipitated themselves, Men, Women, and Children, into such a furious appetite of dying, that nothing can be done to evade death, they did not put in practice to avoid life; insomuch, that Brutus had much ado to save but a very small number. Every opinion is of force enough, to make itself to be espoused at the expense of life. The first Article of that valiant Oath, that Greece took, and observ●d in the Median War, was that every one should sooner exchange life for death, than their own Laws for those of Persia. What a World of people do we see in the Wars betwixt the Turks, and the Greeks, rather embrace a cruel death, than to uncircumcise themselves to admit of Baptism? An example, of which no sort of Religion is incapable. The Kings of Castille, having Banished the jews out of their Dominions, john King of Portugal in consideration of eight Crowns a Head, sold them a retirement into his, for a certain limited time; upon condition, that the time prefixed coming to expire, they should be gone; and he to furnish them with Shipping, to transport them into afric. The limited day came, which once lapsed, they were given to understand, that such as were afterwards found in the Kingdom should re●a●n Slaves: Vessels were very slenderly provided, and those who embarked in them were rudely and villainously used by the Seamen, who besides other indignities, kept them cruising upon the Sea, one while forwards and another backwards, till they had spent all their provisions, and were constrained to buy of them at so dear rates, and so long withal, that they set them not on Shoar, till they were all stripped to their very Shirts. The news of this inhuman usage, being brought to those who remained behind, the greater part of them resolved upon Slavery, and some made a show of changing Religion. Emanuel the successor of john, being come to the Crown, first set them at liberty; and afterwards altering his mind, ordered them to departed his Country, assigning three Ports for their Passage. Hoping (says the Bishop Osorius, no contemptible Latin Historian of these later times) that the favour of the liberty he had given them, having f●il'd of converting them to Christianity; yet the difficulty of committing themselves to the mercy of the Mariners, and of abandoning a Country they were now habituated to, and were grown very rich in, to go, and expose themselves in strange and unknown Regions, would certainly do it: But finding himself deceived in his expectation, and that they were all resolved upon the Voyage; he cut off two of the three Ports he had promised them, to the end, that the length and incommodity of the passage, might reduce some; or that he might have opportunity, by crowding them all into one place, the more conveniently to execute what he had designed; which was to force all the Children under fourteen years of Age, from the Arms of their Fathers and Mothers, to transport them from their sight and conversation, into a place where they might be instructed, and brought up in our Religion. He says that this produced a most horrid Spectacle: The natural affection betwixt the Parents and their Children, and moreover their Zeal to their ancient Belief, contending against this violent De●ree Fathers and Mothers were commonly seen making themselves away, and by a yet much more Rigorous Example, precipitating out of Love and Compassion, their young Children into Wells and Pits, to avoid the Severity of this Law. As to the remainder of then, the time that had been prefixed being expired, for want of means to transport them, they again returned into Slavery. Some also turned Christians, upon whose Faith, as also that of their Posterity even to this Day, which is a Hundred Years since, few Portuguese can yet re●ie or believe them to be real Converts; though Custom, and length of time, are much more powerful Counsellors in such Changes, than all other Constraints whatever. In the Town of Castlenau-Darry, Fifty Heretics, Albeg ●is, at one time suffered themselves to be Burnt alive in one Fire, rather than they would renounce their Opinions. Quoties n●● modo ductores nostri, dicit Cicero, sed universi ●tiam exercitus, ad non dubiam mortem concurrerut? How oft, have not only our Leaders, but whole Armies, run to a certain and apparent Death. I have seen an intimate Friend of mine, run headlong upon Death with a real affection, and that was rooted in his heart by divers plausible Arguments, which he would never permit me to dispossess him off, upon the first Honourable occasion that offered itself to him, to precipitate himself into it, without any manner of visible reason, with an obstinate and ardent desire of Dying. We have several Examples of our own times of those, even so much as to little Children, who for fear of a Whipping, or some such little thing, have dispatched themselves. And, what shall we not fear (says one of the Ancients to that purpose,) if we dread that, which Cowardice itself has chosen for its refuge? Should I here produce a tedious Catalogue of those of all Sexes and Conditions, and of all sorts, even in the most happy Ages, who have either with great Constancy looked Death in the Face, or voluntarily sought it; and sought it not only to avoid the Evils of this Life but some, purely to avoid the Satiety of Living; and others, for the hope of a better Condition elsewhere, I should never have done. Nay, the number is so infinite, that in truth, I should have a better Bargain on't, to reckon up those who have feared it. This one therefore shall serve for all; Pyrrho the Philosopher, being one Day in a Boat, in a very great Tempest, showed to those he saw the most affrighted about him, and encouraged them by the Example of a Hog, that was there, nothing at all concerned at the Storm. Shall we then dare to say, that this advantage of Reason, of which we so much Boast, and upon the account of which, we think ourselves Masters and Emperors, over the rest of the Creatures, was given us for a Torment? To what end serves the Knowledge of things, if it renders us more Unmanly? If we lose the Tranquillity and Repose we should enjoy without it? And if it put us into a worse Condition, than Pyrrho's Hog? Shall we employ the Understanding, that was conferred upon us for our greatest Good, to our own Ruin? Setting ourselves against the design of Nature, and the universal Order of things, which intent, that every one should make use of the Faculties, Members and Means, he has, to his own best Advantage? But it may peradventure be Objected against me; Your Rule is true enough, as to what concerns Death: But what will you say of Necessity? What will you moreover say of Pain, that Aristippus, Hieronymus, and almost all the Wise Men, have reputed the worst of Evils? And those who have deny d it by Word of Mouth, did however confess it in Effects? Possidonius being extremely Tormented with a Sharp and painful Disease, Pompeius came to Visit him, excusing himself, that he had taken so unseasonable a time to come to hear him discourse of Philosophy; God forbidden, said Possidonius to him again, that Pain should ever have the power to hinder me from talking, and thereupon fell immediately upon a discourse of the Contempt of Pain: But in the mean time, his own Infirmity was playing its part, and plagued him to the purpose; to which he Cried out, thou may'st work thy Will Pain, and Torment me with all the power thou hast, but thou shalt never make me say, that thou art an Evil. This Story that they make such a Clutter withal, what is there in it, I fain would know, to the Contempt of Pain? It only Fights it with Words, and in the mean time, if the Shootings and Dolours he felt, did not move him, why did he interrupt his Discourse? Why did he fancy, he did so great a thing, in forbearing to confess it an Evil? All does not here consist in the Imagination, our Fancies may work upon other things: But this here is a certain Science that is playing its part, of which our Senses themselves are judge.  

Luc. l. 4.  Qui nisi sunt veri, ratio quoque falsa sit omnis.  
Which if it be not here most true;  
Reason itself must be false too.  
Shall we persuade our Skins, that the Jerks of a Whip tickle us? Or our Taste, that a Potion of Aloes is Graves Wine. Pyrrho's Hog is here in the same Predicament with us; he is not a●raid of Death, 'tis true, but if you Beat him, he will Cry out to some purpose: Shall we force the general Law of Nature, which in every Living Creature under Heaven, is seen to Tremble under Pain? The very Trees seem to Groan under the Blows they receive. Death is only felt by Discourse, forasmuch as it is the motion of an instant.  

Ovid. Epist. Ariad.  Aut suit, aut veniet, nihil est praesentis in illa,  
Morsque minus poenae, quam mora mortis habet,  
Death's always past, or coming on, in this  
There never any thing of present is:  
And the delays of Death more painful are,  
Than Death itself, and Dying is by far.  
A Thousand Beasts, a Thousand Men, are sooner Dead than Threatened. That also which we principally pretend to Fear in Death is Pain, the ordinary forerunner of it: Yet, if we may believe a Holy Father, Malam mortem non facit, nisi quod sequitur mortem. Nothing makes Death Evil, but what follows it. And I should yet say more probably, that neither that which goes before, nor that which follows after, are at all the appendants of Death: We excuse ourselves safely. And I find by experience, that it is rather the impatience of the Imagination of Death, that makes us impatient of Pain; and that we find it doubly grievous, as it Threatens us with Death. But reason accusing our Cowardice, for fearing a thing so sudden, so inevitable, and so insensible, we take the other as the more excusable pretence. All ills that carry no other danger along with them, but simply the Evils themselves, we despise as things of no danger. The Toothache, or the Gout, as painful as they are, being yet not reputed Mortal, who reckons them in the Catalogue of Diseases? But let us presuppose, that in Death we principally regard the Pain, as also, there is nothing to be feared in Poverty, but the Miseries it brings along with it, of Thirst, Hunger, Cold, Heat, Watching, and the other Inconveniencies it makes us suffer, yet still we have nothing to do with any thing but Pain. I will grant, and very willingly, that it is the worst Accident of our Being, (for I am the Man upon Earth, that the most Hates, and avoids it, considering, that hitherto I thank God I have had so little Traffic with it,) but still it is in us, if not to annihilate, at least, to lessen it by Patience, and though the Body should Mutiny, to Maintain the Soul nevertheless in a good Temper. And were it not so, who had ever given Reputation to Virtue, Valour, Force, Magnanimity, and Resolution? where were their parts to be played, if there were no pain to be Defied? 
Seneca.  Avida est periculi virtus. Virtue is greedy of danger. Were there no lying upon the hard ground, no enduring, armed at all pieces, the Meridional Heats, no feeding upon the flesh of Horses, and Asses, no seeing a Man's self hacked and hewed to pieces, no suffering a Bullet to be pulled out from amongst the shattered Bones, the stitching up, cauterising, and searching of Wounds, by what means were the advantage we covet to have over the Vulgar to be acquired? 'Tis far from flying Evil and Pain, what the Sages say, that of Actions equally good, a Man should most covet to perform that wherein there is greater Labour and Pain. Non est enim hilaritate, 
Cicero de fin. l. 2.  neck lascivia, nec risu, aut joco comite levitatis, sed saepe etiam tristes firmitate, & constantia sunt beati. For Men are not only happy by Mirth and Wantonness, neither by Laughter and Jesting, the Companion of Levity: But ofttimes, the Graver and more Melancholic sort of Men, reap Felicity from their Steadiness and Constancy. And for this reason, it has ever been impossible to persuade our Forefathers, but that the Victories obtained by dint of Force, and the hazard of War, were still more Honourable, than those performed in great Security, by Stratagem or Practice.  
Luc. lib. 9  Laetius est, quoties magno sibi constat honestum. 
A handsome Act more handsome does appear.  
By how much more it cost the doer dear.  
Besides, this aught to be our comfort, that naturally, if the Pain be violent, 'tis but short, and if long, nothing violent, Si gravis, 
Cicero.  brevis: si longus, levis. Thou wilt not feel it long, if thou feelest it too much, it will either put an end to itself, or to thee; if thou canst not support it, it will export thee. Memineris maximos morte finiri; 
Cloero de fin.  parvos multa habere intervalla requietis: mediocrium nos esse dominos: ut si tolerabiles sint, feramus; sin minus, è vita, quum ea non placeat tanquam è theatro exeamus. Remember, that great ones are terminated by Death, that small, have long Intermissions of Repose, and that we are Masters of the moderate sort: so that, if tolerable, we may bear them, if not, we can go out of Life, as from a Theatre, where the Entertainment does not please us; that which makes us suffer Pain with so much Impatience, is the not being accustomed to repose our chiefest Contentment in the Soul, that we do not enough rely upon her who is the sole and sovereign Mistress of our Condition. The Body, saving in greater or less proportion, has but one and the same Bend and Bias; whereas the Soul is variable into all sorts of forms; and subjects to herself, and to her own Empire, all things whatsoever; both the Senses of the Body, and all other Accidents: and therefore it is, that we ought to study her, to inquire into her, and to rouse up all her powerful Faculties. There is neither Reason, Form, nor Prescription, that can any thing prevail against her Inclination and Choice; of so many Thousands of Biasses that she has at her disposal, let us give her one proper to our repose and conservation, and then we shall not only be sheltered and secured from all manner of Injury and Offence, but moreover gratified and obliged, if we will, with Evils and Offences. She makes her profit indifferently of all things. Error and Dreams serve her to good use, as a Loyal matter to Lodge us in Safety and Contentment. 'Tis plain enough to be seen, that 'tis the sharpness of our Conceit, that gives the Edge to our Pains and Pleasures. Beasts that have no such thing, leave to their Bodies their own free and natural Sentiments, and consequently, in every kind very near the same, as appears by the resembling Application of their Motions. If we would not disturb, in our Members, the Jurisdiction that appertains to them in this, 'tis to be believed, it would be the better for us, and that Nature has given them a just and moderate Temper, both to Pleasure and Pain; neither can it fail of being Just, being Equal, and Common. But seeing we have Enfranchised ourselves from these Rules, to give ourselves up to the rambling Liberty of our own Fancies, let us at least help to incline them to the most agreeable side▪ Plato fears our too vehemently engaging ourselves with Grief and Pleasure, forasmuch as these too much Knit and Ally the Soul to the Body: whereas I rather, quite contrary, by reason it too much separates and disunites them. As an Enemy is made more Fierce by our Flight, so Pain grows Proud to see us Truckle under it. She will surrender upon much better Terms to them who make Head against her: A Man must oppose, and stoutly set himself against it. In retiring and giving ground, we invite, and pull upon ourselves the Ruin that Threatens us. As the Body is more firm in an Encounter, the more stiffly and obstinately it applies itself to it; so is it with the Soul. But let us come to Examples, which are the proper Commodity for Fellows of such feeble Reins as myself; where we shall find, that it is with Pain, as with Stones, that receive a more sprightly, or a more languishing Lustre, according to the Foil they are set upon, that it has no more room in us, than we are pleased to allow it. Tantum doluerunt, 
Aug. de Civit. Dei.  quantùm doloribus se inseruerunt. They Grieved so much the more, by how much they set themselves to Grieve. We are more sensible of one little touch of a Surgeon's Lancet, than of Twenty Wounds with a Sword in the heat of Fight. The Pains of Childbearing, said by the Physician, and by God himself, to be very great, and which our Women keep so great a Clutter about, there are whole Nations that make nothing of it. To say nothing of the Lacedaemonian Women, what alteration can you see in our Swissers Wives of the Guard, saving, as they troth after their Husbands, you see them to Day with the Child hanging at their Backs, that they carried yesterday in their Bellies? And the counterfeit Gipsies we have amongst us, go themselves to Wash theirs so soon as they come into the World, in the first River they meet. Besides so many Where's as Daily steal their Children out of their Womb, as before they stole them in; that fair and noble Wife of Sabinus, a Patrician of Rome, for another's interest alone, without help, without crying out, or so much as a Groan, endured the Bearing of Two Twins. a poor simple Boy of Lacedaemon having stole a Fox, (for they more fear the Shame of their Knavery in stealing, than we do the Punishment of our Knavery,) and having got him under his Coat, did rather endure the tearing out of his Bowels, than he would discover his Theft. And another Cursing at a Sacrifice, suffered himself to be Burnt to the Bone, by a Coal that fell into his Sleeve, rather than disturb the Ceremony. And there have been a great Number, for a sole Trial of Virtue, following their instruction, who have at Seven Years old endured to be Whipped to Death, without changing their Countenance. And Cicero has seen them Fight in Parties, with Fists, Feet and Teeth, till they have fainted and sunk down, rather than confess themselves overcome. Custom would never Conquer Nature, for she is ever invincible, but we have infected the Mind with Shadows, Delights, Wantonness, Negligence and Sloth; and with vain Opinions, and corrupt Manners, rendered it Effeminate and Mean. Every one knows the Story of Scaevola, that being slipped into the Enemy's Camp to Kill their General, and having missed his Blow, to repair his fault, by a more strange Invention, and to deliver his Country, he boldly confessed to Porsenna, (who was the King he had a purpose to Kill,) not only his design, but moreover added, That there were then in his Camp a great Number of Romans, his Complices in the Enterprise, as good Men as he, and to show what a one he himself was, having caused a Pan of Burning Coals to be brought, he saw, and endured his Arm to Broil and Roast, till the King himself, conceiving Horror at the sight, commanded the Pan to be taken away. What would you say of him, that would not vouchsafe to respite his Reading in a Book, whilst he was under Incision? And of the other that persisted to Mock and Laugh, in Contempt of the Pains inflicted upon him; so that the provoked Cruelty of the Executioners that had him in handling, and all the Inventions of Tortures redoubled upon him one after another, spent in vain, gave him the Bucklers? But he was a Philosopher. What! a Fencer of Caesar's, Endured and Laughing all the while, 
Cicero Tusc. l. 2.  his Wounds to be searched, Lanced and laid open. Quis mediocris gladiator ingemuit? Quis vultum mutavit unquam? Quis non modo stetit, verum etiam decubuit turpiter? Quis cum decubuisset, ferrum recipere jussus, collum contraxit? What mean Fencer ever so much as gave a Groan? Which of them ever so much as changed his Countenance? Which of them standing or falling did either with Shame? Which of them, when he was down, and commanded to receive the Blow of the Sword, ever shrunk in his Neck? Let us bring in the Women too. Who has not heard at Paris of her that caused her Face to be flayed, only for the fresher Complexion of a new Skin? There are who have drawn good and sound Teeth, to make their Voices more soft and sweet, or to place them in better Order. How many Examples of the contempt of Pain have we in that Sex? What can they not do? What do they fear to do, for never so little hopes of an Addition to their Beauty?  
Vellere queis cura est albos à stirpe capillos, 
Tib. lib. 1. Eleg. 9   
Et faciem dempta pelle referre novam.  
Who pluck their Grey Hairs by the Roots, and try,  
An old Head, Face, with young Skin to supply.  
I have seen some of them swallow Sand, Ashes, and do their utmost to destroy their Stomaches, to get Pale Complexions. To make a fine Spanish Boy, what Racks will they not endure of Tweaking and Braceing, till they have Noches in their sides, cut into the very quick Flesh, and sometimes to Death? It is an ordinary thing with several Nations at this Day, to hurt themselves in good earnest, to gain credit to what they profess, of which, our King relates notable Examples of what he has seen in Poland, and done towards himself. But besides this, which I know to have been imitated by some in France, when I came from that famous Assembly of the Estates at Blois, I had a little before seen a Maid in Picardy, who to manifest the Ardour of her Promises, as also her Constancy, give herself, with a Bodkin she wore in her Hair, Four or Five good lusty Stabs into the Arm, till the Blood gushed out to some purpose. The Turks make themselves great Scars in Honour of their Mistresses, and to the end they may the longer remain, they presently clap Fire to the Wound, where they hold it an uncredible time to stop the Blood, and form the Cicatrice; People that have been Eye-witness of it, have both Writ and Sworn it to me. But for Ten Asper's, there are there every day Fellows to be found, that will give themselves a good deep slash in the Arms or Thighs. I am willing, though to have the Testimonies nearest to us, when we have most need of them; for Christendom does furnish us with enough. And after the Example of our Blessed Guide, there have been many who would bear the Cross. We Learn by Testimony, very worthy of belief, that the King St. Lewis wore a Hair-shirt, till in his old Age his Confessor gave him a Dispensation to leave it off; and that every Friday he caused his Shoulders to be drubbed by his Priest with Six smalls Chains of Iron, which were always carried about amongst his Night Accoutrements for that purpose. William our last Duke of Guienne, the Father of this Eleanor who has Transmitted this Duchy into the Houses of France and England, continually for Ten or Twelve Years before he Died, wore a Suit of Arms under a Religious Habit, by way of Penance. Fulkee Count of Anjou, went as far as jerusalem, there to cause himself to be Whipped by Two of his Servants, with a Rope about his Neck, before the Sepulchre of our Lord: But do we not moreover every Good Friday, in several places, see great numbers of Men and Women, Beat and Whip themselves till they Lacerate and Cut the Flesh to the very Bones; I have often seen this, and without Enchantment, when it was said, there were some amongst them, (for they go disguised,) who for Money undertook by this means to save harmless the Religion of others, by a contempt of Pain, so much the greater, as the Incentives of Devotion are more effectual, than those of Avarice. Q. Maximus Buried his Son, when he was a Consul, and M. ●ate his, when Praetor Elect; and L. Paulus both his, within a few Days one after another, with such a Countenance as expressed no manner of Grief. I said once Merrily of a certain Person, that he had disappointed the Divine Justice: for the Violent Death of Three grown up Children of his, being one Day sent him, for a severe Scourge, as it is to be supposed, he was so far from being Afflicted at the Accident, that he rather took it for a particular Grace and Favour of Heaven. I do not follow these Monstrous Humours, though I lost Two or Three at Nurse, if not without Grief, at least, without Repining, and yet there is hardly any Accident, that pierces nearer to the quick. I see a great many other occasions of Sorrow, that should they happen to me, I should hardly feel; and have despised some when they have befallen me, to which the World has give so Terrible a Figure, that I should Blush to Boast of my Constancy. Ex quo intelligitur, non in Natura, sed in opinion esse aegritudinem. By which it is understood, 
Cicero.  that the Grief is not in Nature, but Opinion. Opinion is a Powerful Party, bold, and without Measure, who ever so greedily hunted after Security and Repose, as Alexander and Caesar did after Disturbances and Difficulties? Terez the Father of Sitalces, was wont to say, that when he had no Wars, he fancied there was no difference betwixt him and his Groom. Cato the Consul, to secure some Cities of Spain from Revolt, only interdicting the Inhabitants from wearing Arms, a great many Killed themselves: Ferox gens, nullam vitam rati sine Armis esse. A Fierce People, who thought there was no Life without Arms. How many do we know, who have forsaken the Calms and Sweetness of a Quiet Life, at Home amongst their Acquaintance, to seek out the Horror of uninhabitable Deserts; and having precipitated themselves into so Abject a Condition, as to become the Scorn and Contempt of the World, have hug'd themselves with the Conceit, even to Affectation. Cardinal Barromeus, who Died lately at Milan, in the midst of all the Jollity that the Air of Italy, his Youth, Birth and great Riches invited him to, kept himself in so Austere a way of Living, that the same Robe he wore in Summer, served him for Winter too? Had only Straw for his Bed, and his Hours of vacancy from the Affairs of his Employment, he continually spent in Study, upon his Knees, having a little Bread and a Glass of Water set by his Book, which was all the Provision of his Repast, and all the time he spent in Eating. I know some who consentingly have Acquired both Profit and Advancement from Cuckoldry, of which the bare Name only affrights so many People. If the Sight be not the most necessary of all our Senses, 'tis at lest the most pleasant: But the most pleasant and most useful of all our Members, seem to be those of Generation, and yet a great many have conceived a Mortal Hatred against them, only for this, that they were too Amiable; and have deprived themselves of them, only for their Value. As much thought lie of his Eyes, that put them out. The generality, and more solid sort of Men, look upon abundance of Children as a great Blessing, I, and some others, think it as a great Benefit to be without them. And when you ask Thales, why he does not Marry, he tells you, because he has no mind to leave any Posterity behind him. That our Opinion gives the value to things, is very manifest in a great many of these which we do not so much regard to prise them, but ourselves; and never consider, either their Virtues, or their Use; but only how dear they cost us: As though that were a part of their substance: And we only repute for value in them, not what they bring to us, but what we add to them. By which I understand, that we are great managers of our Expense. As it weighs, it serves for so much as it weighs; our Opinion will never suffer it to want of its value. The Price gives value to the Diamond▪ Difficulty to Virtue, Suffering to Devotion, and Griping to Physic. A certain Person, to be Poor, threw his Crowns into the same Sea, to which so many came from all parts of the World to Fish and Rifle for Riches. Epicurus says, That to be Rich, is no Advantage, but only an alteration of Affairs. In plain truth, it is not Want, but rather abundance, that Creates Avarice. Neither will I stick to deliver my own Experience concerning this Affair.  
I have since my Childhood Lived in Three sorts of Conditions; the First, which continued for some Twenty Years, I passed over without any other means, but what were Accidental, and depending upon the allowance and assistance of others, without Stint, or certain Revenue. I then spent my Money so much the more cheerfully, and with so much the less care how it went, as it wholly depended upon my over-confidence of Fortune; and never Lived more at my ease, I never had the repulse● of finding the Purse of any of my Friend's shur● against me, having enjoined myself this Necessity above all other Necessity's whatever, by no means to fail of Payment at the appointed time, which also they have a Thousand times respited, seeing how careful I was to satisfy them; so that I practised at once a Thrifty, and withal, a kind of alluring Honesty. I naturally feel a kind of pleasure in Paying, as if I eased my Shoulders of a troublesome Weight, and in freeing myself from that Image of Slavery; as also, that I had a ravishing kind of satisfaction, in pleasing another by doing a Just Action. Those kind of payments excepted, where the trouble of reckoning and dodging are required, and in such cases, where I can meet with no Body to ease me of that hateful Torment, I avoid them, how scandalously and injuriously soever, all I possibly can, for fear of those little wrangling Disputes, for which, both my humour, and way of speaking, are so totally improper and unfit. There is nothing I hate so much, as driving on a Bargain; 'tis a mere Traffic of Cozenage and Impudence: where after an Hours cheapening and dodging, both Parties abandon their Word and Oath for Five Sols profit, or abatement. And yet I always borrowed at great disadvantage, for wanting the confidence to speak to the person myself, I committed my Request to the persuasion of a Ticket, which usually is no very successful Advocate, and is of very great advantage to him who has a mind to deny. I in those Days more jocundly and freely referred the Conduct of my Affairs to the Stars, than I have since done to my own Providence and Judgement. Most good Husbands look upon it as a horrible thing to Live always thus in uncertainty, and are not angry in the first place, that the greatest part of the World Live so. How many Worthy Men have wholly slighted and abandoned the certainty of their own Estates, and yet Daily do it, to trust to the inconstant Favour of Princes, and fickle Fortune? Caesar ran above a Million of Gold, more than he was worth, in Debt, to become Caesar. And how many Merchants have begun their Traffic by the Sale of their Farms, which they sent into the Indies.  
Cat. Epig. 4.  Tot per impetentia freta? 
In so great a Siccity of Devotion, as we see in these Days, we have a Thousand and a Thousand Colleges, that pass it over commodiously enough, expecting every Day their Dinner from the Liberality of Heaven. Secondly, They do not take notice, that this Certitude upon which they so much rely, is not much less uncertain and hazardous, than Hazard itself. I see Misery as near beyond Two Thousand Crowns a Year, as if it stood close by me; for besides, that it is in the power of Chance to make a Hundred Breaches to Poverty, through the greatest strength of our Riches, (there being very often no Mean, betwixt the highest and the lowest Fortune.)  
Sen. Provide.  Fortuna vitrea est: tum, quum splendet, frangitur. 
Fortune is Glass, the brighter it doth shine  
More frail, and soon broken when most fine.  
And to turn all our Barricado's and Bulworks Topsie Turvey, I find that by divers Causes, Indigence is as frequently seen to Inhabit with those who have Estates, as with those that have none; and peradventure, it is then far less Grievous, when alone, than when accompanied with Riches; which flow more from good Managery, than Income. 
Sen. Ep. 4.  Faber est suae quisque Fortunae. Every one is the Hammerer of his own Fortune, and an uneasy, necessitous, busy Man, seems to me more Miserable, than he that is simply Poor. In divitiis inopes, quod genus egestatis gravissimum est. Poor in the midst of Riches, which is the most insupportable kind of Poverty. The greatest and most wealthy Princes, are by Poverty and Want driven to the most extreme Necessity: for can there be any more Extreme, than to become Tyrants, and unjust Usurpers, of their Subjects Goods and Estates?  
My Second Condition of Life was, to have Money of my own; wherein I so ordered the matter, that I had soon laid up a very notable Sum out of so mean a Fortune; considering with myself, that that only was to be reputed having, which a Man reserved from his ordinary Expense, and that a Man could not absolutely rely upon Revenue to receive, how clear soever his Estate might be. For what, said I, if I should be surprised by such or such an Accident; And after such like vain and vicious Imaginations, would very Learnedly, by this hoarding of Money, provide against all Inconveniences; and could moreover answer, such as objected to me, that the number of them was too infinite, that I could not lay up for all, I could however do it at least for some, and for many. Yet was not this done without a great deal of Solicitude and Anxiety of Mind. I kept it very close, and though I dare talk so boldly of myself, never spoke of my Money, but falsely, as others do, who being Rich, pretend to be Poor, and being Poor, pretend to be Rich, dispensing with their Consciences for ever telling sincerely what they have. A ridiculous and shameful Prudence. Was I to go a Journey? methought I was never enough provided: and the more I loaded myself with Money, the more also was I loaded with Fear, one while of the danger of the Roads, another of the Fidelity of him who had the charge of my Sumpters, of whom, as some others that I know, I was never sufficiently Secure, if I had him not always in my Eye. If I chanced to leave the Key of my Cabinet behind me, what strange Jealousies, and Anxiety of Mind did I enter into? And which was worse, without daring to acquaint any Body with it. My Mind was eternally taken up with such things as these, so that all things considered, there is more trouble in keeping Money, than in getting it. And if I did not altogether so much as I say, or was not effectually so scandalously solicitous of my Money, as I have made myself; yet it cost me something at least to govern myself from being so. I reaped little or no advantage by what I had, and my Expenses seemed nothing less to me, for having the more to spend: For, as Rion said, The Hairy Men are as angry as the Bald to be pulled; and after you are once accustomed to it, and have once set your heart upon your heap, it is no more at your Service, you cannot find in your heart to break it: 'Tis a Building that you will fancy, must of necessity all tumble down to Ruin, if you stir but the least Pibble. Necessity must first take you by the Throat, before you can prevail upon yourself to touch it: And I would sooner have pawned any thing I had, or sold a House, and with much less constraint upon myself, than have made the least breach in that beloved Purse, I had so cunningly laid by. But the danger was, that a Man cannot easily prescribe certain limits to this desire, (for they are hard to find in things that a Man conceives to be good,) and to stint this good Husbandry so, that it may not degenerate into Avarice: Men still being intent upon adding to the heap, and increasing the stock, from Sum to Sum, till at last they vilely deprive themselves of the enjoyment of their own proper Goods, and throw all into reserve, without making any use of them at all. According to this Rule, they are the Richest People in the World, who are set to guard the Goals, and to defend the Walls of a Wealthy City. All Moneyed Men I conclude to be Convetous. Plato places Corporal or Humane Riches in this Order; Health, Beauty, Strength and Riches; and Riches, says he, is not blind, but very clear sighted, when illuminated by Prudence. Dionysius the Son, did a very handsome Act upon this subject. He was informed, that one of the Syracusans had hid a Treasure in the Earth, and thereupon sent to the Man to bring it to him, which he accordingly did, privately reserving a small part of it only to himself, with which he went to another City, where being cured of his Appetite of Hoarding, he began to Live at a more liberal Rate. Which Dionysius hearing, caused the rest of his Treasure to be restored to him, saying, that since he had learned how to use it, he very willingly returned it back unto him.  
I continued some Years in this hoarding Humour, when I know not what good Daemon fortunately put me out of it, as he did the Syracusan, and made me throw abroad all my reserve at random; the pleasure of a certain Voyage I took of very great Expense, having made me spurn this fond Love of Money under foot, by which means I am now fallen into a third way of living, (I speak what I think of it) doubtless much more pleasant and moderate, which is, that I live at the height of my Revenue, sometimes the one, sometimes the other may perhaps exceed, but 'tis very little, and but rarely that they differ at all; I live from Hand to Mouth, and content myself in having sufficient for my present, and ordinary Expense; for as to extraordinary occasions, all the laying up in the World would never suffice; and 'tis the greatest folly imaginable to expect, that Fortune should ever sufficiently arm us against herself. 'Tis with our own Arms that we are to fight her, accidental ones will betray us in the pinch of the business. If I lay up, 'tis for some near and designed Expense, and not to purchase Lands, of which I have no need, but to purchase pleasure. Non esse cupidum, pecunia est: 
Cicero. Perad. Vlt.  non esse emacem, vectigal est. Not to be Covetous, ●is Money, not to be a Purchaser, is a Tribute. I neither am in any great apprehension of wanting, nor in any desire of any more; Divittarum fructus est in copia; 
Ibid.  copiam declarat satietas. The fruits of Riches lie in abundance, satiety declares abundance. And I am very well pleased with myself, that this Reformation in me, has fallen out in an Age naturally inclined to Avarice, and that I see myself cleared of a Folly so common to Old Men, and the most ridiculous of all humane Follies. Feraulez a Man that had run through both Fortunes, and found that the increase of substance, was no increase of appetite, either to Eating, or Drinking, Sleeping, or the enjoyment of his Wife, and who on the other side, felt the care of his Oeconomy lie heavy upon his Shoulders, as it does on mine; was resolved to please a poor Young Man his faithful Friend, who panted after Riches, by making him a gift of all his, which was excessively great, and moreover of all he was in the daily way of getting by the liberality of Cyrus, his good Master, and by the War; conditionally that he should take care handsomely to maintain, and plentifully to entertain him, as his Host, and his Friend; which being accordingly embraced, and performed, they afterwards lived very happily together, both of them equally content with the change of their condition. An example that I could imitate with all my heart. And very much approve the Fortune of an Ancient Prelate, whom I see to have so absolutely stripped himself of his Purse, his Revenue, and Care; of his Expense; committing them one while to one trusty Servant, and another while to another, that he has spun out a long succession of Years, as ignorant by this means of his Domestic Affairs, as a mere stranger. The confidence of another Man's virtue, is no light evidence of a Man's own; besides God is pleased to favour such a confidence, as to what concerns him of whom I am speaking, I see not where a better governed Family, nor a House more nobly, and constantly maintained than his, happy in this to have stated his affairs to so just a proportion, that his Estate is sufficient to do it without his care, or trouble, and without any hindrance, either in the spending, or laying it up; to his other more decent, and quiet employments, and that are more suitable both to his place, and liking. Plenty then and indigence depend upon the opinion every one has of them; and Riches no more than Glory, or Health, have no more either Beauty, or Pleasure, than he is pleased to lend them, by whom they are possessed. Every one is well, or ill at ease, according as he finds himself: Not he whom the World believes, but he who believes himself to be so, is content; and in him alone belief gives itself being, and reality. Fortune does us neither good, nor hurt; she only presents us the matter, and the seed, which our Soul, more powerfully than she, turns and applieth as she best pleases; being the sole cause, and Sovereign Mistress of her own happy, or unhappy condition. All external accessions receive taste and Colour, from the internal constitution, as clothes warm us, not with their Heat, but our own, which they are fit to cover and keep in; and who would cover a cold body, would do the same service for the Cold, for so Snow and Ice are preserved. And after the same manner that Study is a torment to a Truant, abstinence from Wine to a good Fellow, frugality to the Spendthrift, and exercise to a Lazy tender bred Fellow; so it is of all the rest. The things are not so painful, and difficult of themselves, but our weakness or cowardice makes them so. To judge of great, and high matters, requires a suitable Soul, otherwise we attribute the Vice to them, which is really our own. A strait Oar seems crooked in the Water: It does not only import that we see the thing, but how, and after what manner we see it. But after all this, why amongst so many discourses, that by so many arguments persuade Men to despise Death, and to endure pain, can we not find out one that makes for us? And of so many sorts of imaginations as have so prevailed upon others, as to persuade them to do so, why does not every one apply some one to himself, the most suitable to his own humour? If he cannot away with a strong working Apozem to eradicate the Evil, let him at least take a Lenitive to ease it. Opinio est quaedam effeminata, ac levis: 
Cicero. Tus●. lib. 2.  nec in dolore magis, quam eadem in voluptate: qua quam liquescimus fluimusque mollitia, apis aculeum sine clamore ferre non possumus. Totum in eo est, ut tibi imperes. There is a certain light, and effeminate opinion, and that not more in pain, than it is even in pleasure itself; by which, whilst we rest and wallow in ease, and wantonness, we cannot endure so much as the stinging of a Bee, without roaring. All that lies in it is only this, to command thyself. As to the rest, a Man does not transgress Philosophy, by permitting the acrimony of pains, and humane frailty to prevail so much above measure; for they will at last be reduced to these invincible replies. If it be ill to live in necessity, at least there is no necessity upon a Man to live in necessity. No Man continues ill long but by his own fault. And who has neither the Courage to Die; nor the Heart to Live: who will neither resist nor fly, what should a Man do to him?   

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

Tasso. Canto 10.  La fama ch' invaghisce a un dolce suono  
Gli superbi mortali, & par ' si bella  
Eun echo, un Sogno, andzi d'un Sogno un ' ombra  
Cb ' add ogni vento si dilegua, & sgombra.  
Honour, that with such an alluring sound,  
Proud Mortals Charms, and does appear so fair,  
An Echo, Dream, shade of a Dream is found,  
Dispersed abroad by every breath of Air.  
And of all the irrational humours of Men, it should seem that even the Philosophers themselves have the most ado, and do the latest disengage themselves from this, as the most resty and obstinate of all humane Follies. Quia etiam bene proficientes animos tentare non cessat. 
Aug. de Civit. Dei.  Because it ceases not to attack even the wisest, and best lettered minds. There is not any one Vice, of which reason does so clearly accuse the Vanity, as of that; but it is so deeply rcoted in us, that I dare not determine, whether any one ever clearly sequestered himself from it or no. After you have said all, and believed all has been said to its prejudice, it creates so intestine an inclination in opposition to your best Arguments, that you have little power, and constancy to resist it: for (as Cicero says) even those who most controvert it, would yet that the Books they writ should visit the light under their own Names, and seek to derive Glory from seeming to despise it. All other things are communicable, and fall into Commerce; we lend our Goods, and stake our Lives for the necessity, and service of our Friends; but to Communicate a Man's Honour, and to Robe another with a Man's own Glory, is very rarely seen. And yet we have some examples of that kind. Catulus Luctatius in the Cymbrian War, having done all that in him lay to make his flying Soldiers face about upon the Enemy, ran himself at last away with the rest, and counterfeited the Coward, to the end his Men might rather seem to follow their Captain, than to fly from the Enemy; which was to abandon his own reputation, to palliate the shame of others. When Charles the Fifth came into Provence in the Year 1537, 'tis said, that Antonio de Leva seeing the Emperor positively resolved upon this Expedition, and believing it would redound very much to his honour, did nevertheless very stiffly oppose it in the Council, to the end that the entire glory of that Resolution should be attributed to his Master; and that it might be said, his own Wisdom and foresight had been such, as that contrary to the opinion of all, he had brought about so great, and so generous an Enterprise; which was to do him Honour at his own Expense. The Thracian Ambassadors, coming to comfort Archileonida the Mother of Brasidas upon the death of her Son, and commending his to that height, as to say he had not left his like behind him; she rejected this private, and particular commendation to attribute it to the public: Tell me not that, (said she) I know the City of Sparta has several Citizens both greater, and of greater Valour than he. In the Battle of Cressy, the Prince of Wales, being then very young, had the Vanguard committed to him, and the main stress of the Battle happened to be in that place, which made the Lords that were with him, finding themselves overmatcht, to send to King Edward, that he would please to advance to their Relief; who thereupon enquiring of the condition his Son was in, and being answered, that he was yet living, and on Horseback: I should then do him wrong (said the King) now to go, and deprive him of the honour of winning this Battle he has so long, and so bravely disputed▪ what hazard soever he runs, it shall be entirely his own: and accordingly would neither go nor send, knowing that if he went, it would be said all had been lost without his succour, and that the honour of the Victory would be wholly attributed to him. Semper enim quod postremum adjectum est, id rem totam videtur traxisse. For the last stroak to a business seems to draw along with it the performance of the whole action. Many at Rome thought, and would usually say, that the greatest of Scipio's Acts, were in part due to Lelius, whose constant practice it was still to advance, and Shoulder Scipio's Grandeur and Renown, without any care of his own. And Theopompus King of Sparta to him who told him the Republic could not miscarry since he knew so well how to Command. 'Tis rather (answered he) because the people know so well how to Obey. As Women succeeding to Peerages, had notwithstanding their Sex the privilege to assist, and give in their Votes in the Causes that appertained to the Jurisdiction of Peers: So the Ecclesiastical Peers notwithstanding their procession, were obliged to assist our Kings in their Wars, not only with their Friends and Servants, but in their own Persons. As the Bishop of Beauvais did, who being with Philip Augustus at the Battle of Bouvines, had a notable share in that action; but he did not think it fit for him to participate in the Fruit and Glory of that Violent and Bloody Trade. He with his own Hand reduced several of the Enemy that Day to his Mercy, whom he delivered to the first Gentleman he met either to Kill, or receive them to Quarter, referring the execution to another hand. As also did William Earl of Salisbury to Messire Jean de Nesle, with a like subtlety of Conscience to the other we named before, he would Kill, but not wound him, and for that reason never Fought with a Mace. And a certain person of my time, being reproached by the King, that he had laid hands on a Priest, stiffly and positively denied he had done any such thing: the meaning of which was, he had Cudgelled and Kicked him.   

CHAP. XLII.  
Of the Inequality amongst us.  
PLutarch says somewhere, that he does not find so great a difference betwixt Beast and Beast, as he does betwixt Man and Man. Which is said in reference to the internal Qualities and Perfections of the Soul. And, in truth, I find, (according to my poor Judgement,) so vast a distance betwixt Epaminondas, and some that I know, (who are yet Men of common sense,) that I could willingly enhance upon Plutarch, and say, that there is more difference betwixt such and such a Man, than there is betwixt such ● Man and such a Beast:  
Ter. For. Act. 5. Sc. 3.  Him vir viro quid praestat! 
— How much alas,  
One man another doth surpass!  
And that there are as many and innumerable degrees of Wits, as there are Cubits betwixt this and Heaven. But as touching the Estimate of Men, 'tis strange, that, ourselves excepted, no other Creature is esteemed beyond its proper Qualities. We commend a Horse for his Strength, and sureness of Foot, 

Juvenal Sat. 8. — Volucrem  
Sic laudamus equum, facili cui plurima palma  
Fervet, & exultat rauco victoria circo.  
So we commend the Horse for being fleet,  
Who many Palms by Breath and Speed does get,  
And which the Trumpets in the Circle grace,  
With their hoarse Levets for his well run Race.  and not for his Rich Comparisons; a Greyhound for his share of Heels, not for his fine Collar; a Hawk for her Wing, not for her Guesses and Bells. Why, in like manner, do we not value a Man for what is properly his own? He has a great Train, a beautiful Palace, so much Credit, so many Thousand Pounds a Year, and all these are about him, but not in him. You will not buy a Pig in a Poke: if you cheapen a Horse, you will see him stripped of his Housing-cloaths, you will see him naked and open to your Eye; or if he be Clothed, as they anciently were wont to present them to Princes to Sell, 'tis only on the less important parts, that you may not so much consider the beauty of his Colour, or the breadth of his Crupper, as principally to examine his Limbs, Eyes and Feet, which are the Members of greatest use:  

Hor. lib. 1. Sat. 2.  Regibus hic mos est, ubi equos mercantur, opertos  
Suspiciunt, ne si facies, ut saepe, decora  
Molli fulta pede est, emptorem inducat hiantem,  
Quod pulchrae clunes, breve quod caput, ardua cervix.  
When Kings Steeds Clothed, as 'tis their manner, Buy,  
They strait examine very Curiously,  
Lest a short Head, a thin and well raised Crest,  
A broad spread Buttock, and an ample Chest,  
Should all be propped with an old beaten Hoof,  
To gull the Buyer, when they come to proof.  
Why, in giving your Estimate of a Man, do you Prise him wrapped and muffled up in clothes? He than discovers nothing to you, but such parts as are not in the least his own; and conceals those, by which alone one may rightly judge of his Value. 'Tis the price of the Blade that you inquire into, and not of the Scabbard: You would not peradventure bid a Farthing for him, if you saw him stripped. You are to judge him by himself, and not by what he wears. And as one of the Ancients very pleasantly said, Do you know why you repute him Tall? You reckon withal the height of his Chepines, whereas the Pedestal is no part of the Statue. Measure him without his Stilts, let him lay aside his Revenues, and his Titles, let him present himself in his Shirt, then examine if his Body be sound and sprightly, active and disposed to perform its Functions? What Soul has he? Is it Beautiful, capable, and happily provided of all her Faculties? Is she Rich of what is her own, or of what she has Borrowed? Has Fortune no hand in the Affair? Can she, without winking, stand the lightning of Swords; is she indifferent, whether her Life expire by the Mouth, or through the Throat? Is she Settled, Even and Content? This is what is to be examined, and by that you are to judge of the vast differences betwixt Man, and Man. Is he  

H. Lib. 2. Sat. 7. — Sapiens, sibique imperiosus  
Quem neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vincula terrent,  
Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores  
Fortis, & in seipso totus teres atque rotundus,  
Externi nequid valeat per laeve morari,  
In quem manca ruit semper fortuna?  
Wise, and commanding o'er his Appetite,  
One whom, nor Want, nor Death, nor Bonds, can Fright,  
To check his Lusts, and Honour's scorn, so stout,  
And in himself so round and clear throughout,  
That no External thing can stop his course,  
And on whom Fortune vainly tries her force.  
such a Man is raised Five Hundred Fathoms  
above Kingdoms and Dutchies, he is an Absolute  
Monarch in and to himself.  
Plaut. Tri. Act. 2. Sc. 2.  Sapiens Pol ipse fingit fortunam sibi. 
The Wife Man his own Fortune makes.  
What remains for him to Covet, or Desire?  

Luc. l. 2. — Nun videmus  
Nil aliud sibi naturam latrare, nisi ut quoi  
Corpore sejunctus dolor absit, ment fruatur  
Jucundo sensu, cura semotus metuque?  
We see that Nature to no more aspires;  
Nor to herself a greater good requires,  
Than that, whose Body is from Dolours free,  
He should his Mind with more Serenity,  
And a more pleasing Sense enjoy, quite clear  
From those two grand Disturbers, Grief and Fear  
Compare with such a one the common Rubble of Mankind, stupid and mean Spirited, Servile, Instable, and continually floating with the Tempest of various Passions, that tosses and tumbles them to and fro, and all depending upon others, and you will find a greater distance, than betwixt Heaven and Earth; and yet the blindness of common usage is such, that we make little or no account of it. Whereas, if we consider a Peasant, and a King, a Nobleman, and a Villain, a Magistrate, and a private Man, a Rich Man, and a Poor, there appears a vast disparity, though they differ no more, (as a Man may say,) than in their Breeches. In Thrace, the King was distinguished from his People, after a very pleasant manner; He had a Religion by himself, a God of his own, and which his Subjects were not to presume to Adore, which was Mercury, whilst, on the other side, he disdained to have any thing to do with theirs, Mars, Bacchus and Diana. And yet they are no other than Pictures, that make no Essential Dissimilitude; for as you see Actors in a Play, representing the person of a Duke, or an Emperor, upon the Stage, and immediately after, in the Tiring Room, return to their true and original Condition; so the Emperor, whose Pomp and Lustre, does so dazzle you in Public, 

Luc. l. 4.  Silicet, & grandes viridi cum luce smaragdi  
Auro includuntur, teriturque Thalassina vestis  
Assidue, & veneris sudorem exercita petat.  
Great Emeralds richly are in Gold enchased,  
To dart Green Lustre, and the Sea-green vest  
Continually is worn and rubbed to Frets,  
Whilst it Imbibes the Juice that Venus Sweats.  do but peep behind the Curtain, and you'll see nothing more than an ordinary Man, and peradventure, 
Senec. Ep. 115.  more Contemptible than the meanest of his Subjects. Ille beatus introrsum est, istius bracteata felicitas est. True Happiness lies within, the other is but a counterfeit Felicity. Cowardice, Irresolution, Ambition, Spite and Envy, are as Predominant in him, as in another.  

Horace lib. 2. Ode 16.  Non enim gazae, neque consularis  
Summovet lictor, miseros tumultus  
Mentis, & curas laqueata circum  
Tecta volantes.  
For neither Wealth, Honours, nor Offices,  
Can the wild Tumults of the Mind appease,  
Nor chase those Cares, that with unwearied Wings  
Hover about the Palaces of Kings.  
Nay, Solitude and Fear, attack him even in the Centre of his Battalions.  

Lucret. l. 2.  Reveraque metus hominum, curaeque sequaces,  
Nec metuunt sonitus armorum, nec fera tela,  
Audacterque inter Reges, rerumque potentes  
Versantur, neque fulgorem reverentur ab auro.  
For Fears and Cares warring with Humane Hearts;  
Fear not the clash of Arms, nor points of Darts;  
But with great Kings and Potentates makes Bold,  
Maugre their Purple, and their Glittering Gold.  
Do Fevers, Gouts and Apoplexies, spare them any more, than one of us? When Old Age hangs heavy upon a Prince's Shoulders, can the Yeomen of his Guard ease him of the Burden? When he is Astonished with the apprehension of Death, can the Gentlemen of his Bedchamber comfort and assure him? When Jealousy, or any other Capricio swims in his Brain, can our Compliments and Ceremonies restore him to his good Humour? The Canopy Embroidered with Pearl and Gold, he ●ies under, has no Virtue against a violent fit of the Stone or Colic.  

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

Persiu●. Sat. 2. — Puellae  
Hunc rapiant, quidquid culcaverit hic, rosa fiat.  
Though Maids should Ravish him, and where he goes,  
In every step he takes, should spring a Rose.  
what of all that, if he be a Fool and a Sot, even Pleasure and good Fortune, are not relished without Vigour and Understanding.  

Ter. Hea●●. Act. 1. S●●.  Haec perinde sunt, ut illius animus, qui ea possidet,  
Qui uti scit, ei bona, illi, qui non utitur recte, mala.  
Things to the Souls of their Possessors square,  
Goods if well used, if ill, they Evils are.  
Whatever the Benefits of Fortune are, they yet require a Palate fit to relish and taste them: 'Tis Fruition, and not possession, that renders us Happy.  

Horace lib. 1. Epist. 2.  Non domus, & fundus, non aeris acervus & auri,  
Aegroto domini deduxit corpore f●bres,  
Non animo curas, valeat possessor oportet,  
Qui comportatis rebus bene cogitat uti,  
Qui cupit, aut metuit, juvat illum sic domus aut res,  
Ut lippum pictae Tubulae, fomenta podagram.  
Manors, or heaps of Brass and Gold, afford No ease at all to their Febritick Lord; For can they cure his Cares; 'tis requisite The Good's Possessor know the use of it. Who Fears or Covets, these so help him out, As Pictures Blind Folks, Cataplasms the Gout.  
He is a Sot, his Taste is palled and flat; he no more enjoys what he has, than one that has a Cold, relishes the flavour of Canary; or than a Horse is sensible of his Rich Comparison. Plato is in the right, when he tells us, that Health, Beauty, Vigour and Riches, and all the other things called Goods, are equally Evil to the Unjust, as Good to the Just, and the Evil on the contrary the same. And therefore, where either the Body or the Mind, are in disorder, to what use serve these external Conveniences? Considering, that the least prick with a Pin, or the least Passion of the Soul, is sufficient to deprive us of the pleasure of being sole Monarch of the World. At the first twitch of the Gout, it signifies much to be called Sir, and your Majesty; 
Hor. lib. 1. El. 2.  Totus, & argento conflatus, totus & auro. Although his Chests are crammed, whilst they will hold, With immense Sums of Silver Coin and Gold. does he not forget his Palaces and Grandeurs? If he be Angry, can his being a Prince, keep him from looking Red, and looking Pale, and grinding his Teeth, like a Madman? Now if he be a Man of parts, and well descended, Royalty adds very little to his Happiness:  

Hor. lib. 1 Ep. 12.  Si vent●i bene, si lateri est pedibusque tuis, nil  
Divitiae poterant regales addere majus.  
If thou art right and sound from Head to Foot,  
A King's Revenue can add nothing to't.  
He discerns, 'tis nothing but Counterfeit and Gullery. Nay perhaps, he would be of King Seleucus' opinion, That who knew the weight of a Sceptre, would not deign to stoop to take it up; which he said, in reference to the great and painful Duty incumbent upon a good King. Doubtless it can be no easy task to Rule others, when we find it so hard a matter to Govern ourselves. And as to the thing Dominion, that seems so sweet and charming, the frailty of Humane Wisdom, and the difficulty of choice in things that are new and doubtful, to us considered, I am very much of opinion, that it is much more pleasant to follow, than to lead; and that it is a great settlement and satisfaction of Mind, to have only one Path to walk in, and to have none to answer for, but for a Man's self;  

Lucret. lib. 5.  Ut satius multo jam sit, parere quietum,  
Quam regere imperio res velle.  
So that 'tis better Calmly to Obey,  
Than in the Storms of State to Rule and Sway.  
To which we may add that saying of Cyrus, That no Man was fit to Rule, but he who in his own Worth was of greater Value, than all those he was to Govern: But King Hiero in Xenophon, says further, That in the Fruition even of Pleasure itself, they are in a worse condition, than private Men; forasmuch a● the opportunities and facility they have of commanding those things at Will, takes off from the Delight:  

Ovid. Amor. l. 2. Ele. 19  Pinguis amor, nimiumque potens, in taedia nobis  
Vertitur, & Stomacho dulcis ut esca necet.  
Too Potent Love, in Loathing never ends,  
As highest Sauce the Stomach most offends.  
Can we think, that the Singing-Boys of the Choir, take any great delight in their own Music? The Satiety does rather render it troublesome and tedious to them. Feasts, Balls, Masquerades and Tilt, delight such as but rarely see, and desire to be at such Solemnities: But having been frequent at such Entertainments, the relish of them grows flat and insipid: Nay, Women (the greatest Temptation) do not so much delight those who make a common practice of the sport. He who will not give himself leisure to be Thirsty, can never find 〈◊〉 true pleasure of Drinking. Farces and Tumbling Tricks, are pleasant to th● Spectators, but a pain to those by whom they are performed. And that this is effectually so, we see that Princes divert themselves sometimes in disguising their Qualities, a while to depose themselves, and to stoop to the poor and ordinary way of Living of the meanest of their People.  

Hor. car. lib. 3. Ode 29.  Plerumque gratae Principibus vires,  
Mundaeque parvo sub lare pauperum  
Coenae sine aulaeis, & ostro,  
Sollicitum explicuere frontem.  

Even Princes with Variety tempted are,  
Which makes them oft feed on clean homely Fare,   

In a poor Hut, laying aside the State,  
Purple and Pomp, which should on Grandeur wait,   

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

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

'Tis the great Benefit of Kings, that they,  
Who are by Law Subjected to their Sway,   

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

Lucret. l. 5.  Nimirum quia non bene norat quae esset habendi  
Finis, & omnino quoad crescat vera voluptas.  
The end of being Rich he did not know;  
Nor to what pitch Felicity should grow.  
I will conclude with an old Versicle, that I think very pat to the purpose.  
Corn. Nep. in vit. A. Hici.  Moors cuique sui fingunt fortunam. 
Himself, not Fortune, every one must blame, Since Men's own Manners do their Fortune's frame.   

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

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

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

CHAP. XLVI.  
Of Names.  
WHat variety of Herbs soever are shuffled together in the Dish, yet the whole Mass is swallowed up in one name of a Salad. In like manner, under the consideration of Names, I will make a hodgepodge of differ'ng Articles. Every Nation has certain Names, that I know not why, are taken in no good sense, as with us, John, William, and Benoist. In the Genealogy of Princes, also there seems to be certain Names fatally affected, as the Ptolemies of Egypt, the Henry's of England, the Charles of France, the Baldwins of Flandert, and the Williams of our Ancient Aquiraine, from whence, 'tis said, the Name of Guyenne has its derivation; which would seem far fetched, were there not as rude derivations in Plato himself. 'Tis a very frivolous thing in itself, but nevertheless worthy to be recorded for the strangeness of it, which is writ by an Eye-witness; that Henry Duke of Normandy, Son of Henry the Second, King of England, making a great Feast in France, the concourse of Nobility and Gentry, was so great, that being, for Sports sake, divided into Troops, according to their Names, in the first Troop, which consisted of Williams, there were found an Hundred and Ten Knights sitting at the Table of that Name, without reckoning the ordinary Gentlemen, and their Servants. It is as pleasant to distinguish the Tables by the Names of the Guests, as it was in the Emperor Geta, to distinguish the several Courses of his Meat, by the first Letters of the Ments themselves, where those that began with B, were served up together, as Brawn, Beef, Bream, Bustards and Beccaficos, and so of others. Now there is a saying, that it is a good thing to have a good Name, that is to say, Credit, and a good Repute: But besides this, it is really convenient, to have such a Name as is easy of pronunciation, and easy to be remembered; by reason, that Kings, and other great Persons, do by that means the more easily know, and the more hardly forget us; and indeed, of our own Servants, we more frequently call and employ those, whose Names are most ready upon the Tongue. I myself have seen Henry the Second, when he could not for his heart hit of a Gentleman's Name of our Country of Gascony; and moreover was fain to call one of the Queen's Maids of Honour, by the general Name of her Family, her own being so difficult to pronounce or remember. And Socrates thinks it worthy a Father's Care, to give fine Names to his Children. 'Tis said, that the Foundation of Nostre Dame la Grande, at Poitiers, took its original from hence. That a Debauched Young Fellow formerly Living in that place, having got to him a Whore, and at her first coming in, ask her Name, and being answered, that it was Mary, he felt himself so suddenly darted through with the Awe of Religion, and the Reverence to that Sacred Name of the Blessed Virgin, that he not only immediately put his Lewd Mistress away from him, but became a reformed Man, and so continued the remainder of his Life: And that in consideration of this Miracle, there was Erected upon the place, where this Young Man's House stood, first a Chapel Dedicated to our Lady, and afterwards the Church that we now see standing there. This Auricular Reproof wrought upon the Conscience, and that right into the Soul. This that follows, insinuated itself merely by the sense. Pythagoras' being in company with some wild Young Fellows, and perceiving that, heated with the Feast, they complotted to go Violate an Honest House, commanded the Singing Wench to alter her Wanton Airs; and by a Solemn, Grave and Spondaick Music, gently enchanted and laid asleep their Ardour. Will not Posterity say, that our Modern Reformation has been wonderfully exact, in having not only scuffled with, and overcome Errors and Vices, and filled the World with Devotion. Humility, Obedience, Peace, and all sorts of Virtue; but to have proceeded so far, as to quarrel with the Ancient Baptismal Names of Charles, Lewis, and Francis, to fill the World with Methusalems', ezekiel's, and Malachies, of a more Scriptural sound? A Gentleman, a Neighbour of mine, a great Admirer of Antiquity, and who was always preferring the Excellency of preceding Times, in comparison with this present Age of ours, did not (amongst the rest) forget to Magnify the Lofty and Magnificent sound of the Gentleman's Names of those Days, Don Grumedar, Quadregan, Angesilan, etc. which but to hear Named, he perceived to be other kind of Men, than Pierre, Guillot and Michael. I am mightily pleased with Jaques Amiot, for leaving throughout a whole French Oration, the Latin Names entire, without varying and dissecting them, to give them a French termination. It seemed a little harsh and rough at first: But already Custom, by the Authority of Plutarch, (whom he took for his Example) has overcome that Novelty. I have often wished, that such as write Chronicle Histories in Latin, would leave our Names as they find them, and as they are, and aught to be, for in making Vaudemont, Vallemontances, and Metamorphosing Names, to make them suit better with the Greek or Latin, we know not where we are, and with the persons of the Men, lose the benefit of the Story. To conclude, 'tis a scurvy Custom, and of very ill consequence, that we have in our Kingdom of France, to call every one by the Name of his Manor, or Signory, and the thing in the World that does the most prejudice, and confound Families and Descents. A Younger Brother of a good Family, having a Manor left him by his Father, by the Name of which he has been known and honoured, cannot handsomely leave it; Ten Years after his Decease, it falls into the hand of a stranger, who does the same: Do but judge whereabouts we shall be, concerning the knowledge of these Men. We need look no further for Examples, than our own Royal Family, where every Partage creares a new Surname, whilst in the mean time the Original of the Family is totally lost. There is so great liberty taken in these Mutations, that I have not in my time seen any one advanced by Fortune to any extraordinary condition, who has not presently had Genealogick Titles added to him, new, and unknown to his Father, and who has not been inoculated into some illustrious Stem; and by good Luck, the obscurest Families, are the most proper for Falsification. How many Gentlemen have we in France, who, by their own talk, are of Royal Extraction? More I think, than who will confess they are not. Was it not a pleasant passage of a Friend of mine? There were a great many Gentlemen assembled together, about the dispute of one Lord of a Manor, with another; which other had in truth, some pre-eminence of Titles and Alliances, above the ordinary Scheme of Gentry. Upon the Debate of this Priority of Place, every one standing up for himself, to make himself equal to him, alleging one one Extraction, another another, one the near resemblance of Name, another of Arms, another an old wormeaten Patent, and the least of them, Great-Granchild to some Foreign King. When they came to sit down to dinner, my Friend, instead of taking his place amongst them, retiring with most profound Congees, entreated the Company to excuse him, for having hitherto Lived with them at the saucy rate of a Companion: but being now better informed of their Quality, he would begin to pay them the Respect due to their Birth and Grandeur, and that it would ill become him to sit down among so many Princes; and ended the Farce with a Thousand Reproaches. Let us in God's Name satisfy ourselves with what our Fathers were contented, and with what we are: We are great enough, if we rightly understand how to maintain it: Let us not disown the Fortune and Condition of our Ancestors and lay aside these ridiculous pretences, that can never be wanting to any one that has the Impudence to allege them. Arms have no more Security, than Surnames. I bear Azure powdered with Trefoils, Or, with a Lion's Paw of the same armed gules in Fez. What Privilege to continue particularly in my House and Name? A Son-in-Law will transport it into another Family; or some paltry Purchaser will make them his first Arms; there is nothing wherein there is more change and confusion. But this consideration leads me perforce into another subject. Let us pry a little narrowly into, and in God's name examine upon what foundation we erect this Glory and Reputation, for which the World is turned topsy turvy: Wherein do we place this Renown, that we hunt after with so great flagrancy, and through so many impediments, and so much trouble? It is in conclusion, Peter or William that carries it, takes it into his possession, and whom it only concerns. O what a valiant faculty is hope, that in a mortal subject, and in a moment makes nothing of usurping infinity and immensity, and of supplying her Master's Indigence at her pleasure with all things he can imagine, or desire! Nature has given us this passion for a pretty toy to play withal. And this Peter or William, what is it but a sound when all is done? or three or four dashes with a Pen, so easy to be varied, that I would fain know to whom is to be attributed the glory of so many Victories, to Guesquin, to Glesquin, or to Gueaquin? and yet there would be something of greater moment in the case, than in Lucian, that Sigma should serve Tau with a process for, 
Aeneid. lib. 12. — Non levia, aut ludicra petuntur Praemia. 
To do brave acts, who has the noble Spirit,  
Slights mean rewards, as things below his merit.  The chase is there in very good earnest: The question is, which of these Letters is to be rewarded for so many Sieges, battles, Wounds, Imprisonments, and Services done to the Crown of France, by this famous Constable. Nicholas Denisot never concerned himself further than the Letters of his name, of which he has altered the whole Contexture to build up by Anagram the Count of Alsinois, whom he has celebrated with the utmost force and glory of his Poetry, and Painting. And the Historian Suetonius could be satisfied with nothing he Writ, unless it might redound to his own particular honour, which made him cashier his father's Surname Lewis, to leave Tranquillus Successor to the reputation of his writings. Who would believe that Captain Bayard should have no honour, but what he derives from Peter Terrail; and that Antonio Escalin should suffer himself to his face, to be Robbed of the honour of so many Navigations and Commands at Sea and Land by Captain Paulin and the Baron de la garde; These are injuries of the Pen, common to a thousand people. How many are there in every Family of the same Name and Surname? and how many more in several Families, Ages, and Countries? History tells us of three of the name of Socrates, of five Plato's, of eight Aristotle's of seven Xenophons', of twenty Demetrius', and of twenty Theodores; and how many more she was not acquainted with we may imagine. Who hinders my Groom from calling himself Pompey the Great? But after all, by what Virtue, what Authority, or what secret conveyances are there, that fix upon my deceased Groom, or the other Pompey, who had his Head cut off in Egypt, this glorious Renown, and these so much honoured flourishes of the Pen, so as to be of any advantage to them?  
Aevid. lib. 4.  Id cinerem, & manes credis curare sepultos? Can we believe the Dead regard such things? 
What sense have the two Colleagues of the greatest esteem amongst men? Epaminondas of this glorious Verse, that has been so many Age's current in his praise;  Consiliis nostris laus est attrita Laconum: One Sparta by my Counsels is o'erthrown. 
or Africanus of this other?  
A sole exoriente, supra Moeotis Paludes  
Nemo est, qui factis me aequiparare queat.  
From early dawn, unto the setting Sun,  
No one can match the deeds that I have done.  
Survivers indeed tickle themselves with these praises, and by them incited to Jealousy or Desire, inconsiderately, and according to their own fancy, attribute to the Dead those Virtues themselves pretend to most: God knows how vainly flattering themselves, that they shall one day in turn be capable of the same Characters: however  

juvenal. Sat. 10. — Ad haec se  
Romanus, Grajusque & Barbarus, Induperator  
Erexit; causas discriminis, atque laboris  
Ind habuit, tanto major famae sitis est, quam  
Virtutis.  
Greek, Roman and Barbarian Chiefs to these,  
Devote their Valour and Contrivances,  
And to that Greediness of Glory own  
The Dangers and Fatigues they undergo;  
So much more Potent is the Thirst of Fame  
Than that of Virtue.   

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

Petrar. Son. 83.  Vince Annibal ', & none seppe usar ' pot  
Ben la vittoriosa sua ventura.  
Hannibal Conquered; but was not Wise  
To make the best use of his Victories.  
Such as would improve this Argument, and condemn the oversight of our Leaders in not pushing home the Victory at Moncontour; or accuse the King of Spain of not knowing how to make his best use of the advantage he had against us at St. Quintin, may conclude these oversights to proceed from a Soul already drunk with success, or from a Courage, which being full, and overgorged with this beginning of good Fortune, had lost the appetite of adding to it, already having enough to do to digest what it had taken in: He has his Arms full, and can embrace no more: unworthy of the benefit conferred upon him, and the advantage she had put into his hands: for what utility does he reap from it, if notwithstanding he give his Enemy respite to rally to recover his astonishment, and to make head against him? What hope is there that he will dare at another time to attack an Enemy reunited, and recomposed, and armed anew with Spite and Revenge, who did not dare to pursue him when routed, and unmanned by fear?  
Lucret. l. 7.  Dum fortuna calet, dum conficit omnia terror. 
Whilst Fortune's in the heat, and Terror does  
More than their Sharpest Swords subdue their Foes.  
But withal, what better opportunity can he expect, than that he has lost? 'Tis not here, as in Fencing, where the most hits gain the Prize: For so long as the Enemy is on foot, the Game is new to begin, and that is not to be called a Victory, that puts not an end to the War. In the encounter where Caesar had the worse, near to the City of Oricum, he reproached Pompey's Soldiers, that he had been lost, had their General known how to overcome; and afterwards clawed him away in turn. But why may not a man also argue on the contrary, that it is the effect of a precipitous, and insatiate Spirit, not to know how to bond, and restrain its ardour: that it is to abuse the favours of God to exceed the measure he has prescribed them: and that again to throw a Man's self into danger, after a Victory obtained, is again to expose himself to the mercy of Fortune: and that it is one of the greatest discretions in the Rule of War, not to drive an Enemy to despair. Sylla and Marius in the Associate War having defeated the Marsians; seeing yet a Body of Reserve, that prompted by Despair, was coming on like enraged Brutes to charge in upon them, thought it not convenient to stand their charge. Had not Monsieur de Foix his ardour transported him so precipitously to pursue the remains of the Victory of Ravenna, he had not obscured it by his own Death. And yet the recent memory of his Example served to preserve Monsieur d' Anguien from the same misfortune at the Battle of Serisoles. 'Tis dangerous to attack a Man you have deprived of all means to escape, but by his Arms: for necessity teaches violent resolutions: 
Port. Latin Decla.  Gravissimi sunt morsus irritatae necessitatis, enraged necessity bites deep.  
Luc lib. 4. M●yes Luc.  Vincitur haud gratis jugulo qui provocat hostem. The Foe that meets the Sword ne'er gratis Dies. 
This was it that made Pharax withhold the King of Lacedaemon, who had won a Battle of the Matineans, from going to Charge a Thousand Argians, who were escaped in an entire Body from the defeat; but rather let them steal off at liberty, that he might not encounter Valour whetted and enraged by mischance, Clodomire King of Aquitaine, after his Victory pursuing Gondemar, King of Burgundy, beaten, and making off as fast as he could for safety, compelled him to face about, and make head, wherein his obstinacy deprived him of the fruit of his Conquest, for he there lost his Life.  
In like manner, if a Man were to choose, whether he would have his Soldiers Ainquant, and richly accoutred with Damaskt Arms, or armed only for necessary defence; this argument would step in, in favour of the first (of which Opinion was Sertorius, Philopoemen, Brutus, Caesar, and others) that it is to a Soldier an enflaming of Courage, and a spur to Glory, to see himself brave, and withal an imitation to be more obstinate in Fight, having his Arms, which are in a manner his Estate, and whole Inheritance to defend, which is the reason (says Xenophon) why those of Asia, carried there Wives, Concubines, with their choicest Jewels, and greatest Wealth along with them to the Wars. But then these arguments would be as ready to stand up for the other side, that a General ought rather to render his Men careless and desperate, than to increase their solicitude of preserving themselves: That by this means they will be in a double fear of hazarding their persons; as it will be a double temptation to the Enemy, to fight with greater Resolution, where so great booty and so rich spoils are to be obtained: And this very thing has been observed in former times, notably to encourage the Romans against the Samnites. Antiochus showing Hannibal the Army he had raised wonderfully splendid, and Rich in all sorts of Equipage, asked him, if the Romans would be satisfied with that Army? Satisfied? replied the other, yes doubtless were their Avarice never so great. Lycurgus not only forbade his Soldiers all manner of Bravery in their Equipage, but moreover to strip their Conquered Enemies, because he would (as he said) that Poverty, and Frugality should shine with the rest of the Battle.  
At Sieges, and elsewhere, where occasion draws us near to the Enemy, we willingly suffer our Men to Brave, Rate, and Affront the Enemy with all sorts of injurious Language; and not without some colour of reason: For it is of no little consequence, to take from them all hopes of Mercy, and Composition, in representing to them, that there is no fair Quarter to be expected from an Enemy, they have incensed to that degree, nor other Remedy remaining, but in the victory. And yet Vitellius found himself deceived in this way of proceeding; for having to do with Otho, weaker in the valour of his Soldiers, long unaccustomed to war, and effeminated with the delights of the City; he so nettled them at last with injurious Language, reproaching them with Cowardice, and the regret of the Mistresses, and entertainments they had left behind at Rome, that by this means he inspired them with such resolution, as no exhortation had had the power to have done; and himself made them fall upon him, with whom their own Captains before could by no means prevail. And indeed when they are Injuries that touch to the quick, it may very well fall out, that he who went but ill-favouredly to work in the behalf of his Prince, will fall to't with another sort of Mettle, when the quarrel is his own.  
To consider of how great importance is the preservation of the General of an Army, and that the Universal aim of an Enemy is levelled directly at the head, upon which all the others depend; the advice seems to admit of no dispute, which we know has been taken by so many great Captains of changing their habit, and disguising their persons upon the point of going to engage. Nevertheless the inconvenience a Man by so doing runs into, is not less than that he thinks to avoid: For the Captain by this means being concealed from the knowledge of his own Men, the Courage they should derive from his Presence and Example, happens by degrees to cool and to decay; and not seeing the wont 
* As at the Battle of jury, in the person of Henry the Great.  Marks, and Ensigns of their Leader, they presently conclude him either Dead, or that, despairing of the business, he is gone to shift for himself; and experience shows us that both these ways have been both successful, and otherwise. What befell Pyrrbus in the Battle he fought against the Consul Levinus in Italy, will serve us to both purposes: For though by shrouding his person under the Arms of Demogacles, and making him wear his own, he undoubtedly preserved his own Life, yet by that very means he was withal very near running into the other mischief of losing the Battle. Alexander, Caesar, and Lucullus, loved to make themselves known in a Battle, by Rich Furnitures, and Arms of a particular Lustre and Colour: Agis, Agesilaus, and that great Gilippus on the contrary used to Fight obscurely Armed, and without any imperial attendance, or distinction.  
Amongst other oversights Pompey is charged withal, at the Battle of Pharsalia, he is condemned for making his Army stand still to receive the Enemies Charge; by reason that (I shall here steal Plutarch's own words, that are better than mine) he by so doing, deprived himself of the violent impression, the motion of running adds to the first shock of Arms, and hindered the justle of the Combatants (who were wont to give great impetuosity, and fury to the first Encounter; especially when this came to rush in with their utmost Vigour, their Courages increasing by the Shouts and the Career) rendering the Soldiers Animosity, and Ardour, as a Man may say, more reserved, and cold. This is what he says: But if Caesar had come by the worse, why might it not as well have been urged by another, that, on the contrary the strongest, and most steady posture of Fight, is that wherein a Man stands planted firm without motion; and that who makes a halt upon their march, closing up, and reserving their force within themselves for the push of the business, have a great advantage against those who are disordered, and who have already spent half their breath in running on precipitously to the charge? Besides, that an Army being a Body made up of so many individual Members, it is impossible for it to move in this fury with so exact a motion, as not to break the order of Battle, and that the best of Foot are not engaged, before their Fellows can come in to relieve them. In that unnatural Battle betwixt the two Persian Brothers, the Lacedaemonian Clearchus, who commanded the Greeks of Cyrus' party, led them on softly, and without precipitation, to the Charge; but coming within fifty paces hurried them on full speed, hoping in so short a Career, both to look to their order, to husband their breath, and at the same time to give an advantage of violence, and impression both to their persons, and their missile Arms: Others have regulated this question in charging thus; if your Enemy come running upon you, stand firm to receive him; if he stand to receive you, run full drive upon him.  
In the Expedition of the Emperor Charles the Fifth into Provence, King Francis was put to choose either to go meet him in Italy, or to expect him in his own Dominions; wherein though he very well considered of how great advantage it was, to preserve his own Territories entire, and clear from the troubles, and inconveniences of the war, to the end that being unexhausted of her stores, it might continually supply Men, and Money at need, that the necessity of War requires at every turn to spoil, and lay waste the Country before them, which cannot very well be done upon ones own; to which may be added that the Country people do not so easily digest such a havoc by those of their own party, as from an Enemy, so that Seditions and Commotions might by such means be kindled amongst us; that the Licence of Pillage and Plunder (which are not to be tolerated at home) is a great ease and refreshment against the fatigues, and sufferings of War; and that he who has no other prospect of gain, than his bare pay, will hardly be kept from running home, being but two steps from his Wife, and his own House: That he who lays the Cloth, is ever at the charge of the Feast: That there is more Alacrity in assaulting than defending, and that the shock of a Battles loss in our own Bowels, is so violent as to endanger the disjointing of the whole Body, there being no passion so contagious as that of fear; that is so easily believed, or that so suddenly diffuses its Poison; and that the Cities that should hear the Rattle of this Tempest, that should take in their Captains, and Soldiers yet trembling and out of breath, would be in danger in this heat and hurry, to precipitate themselves upon some untoward resolution: Notwithstanding all this, so it was, that he chose to recall the Forces he had beyond the Mountains, and to suffer the Enemy to come to him. For he might on the other side imagine, that being at home and amongst his Friends he could not fail of plenty of all manner of conveniences; the Rivers, and Passes he had at his Devotion, would bring him in both Provisions and Money in all security, and without the trouble of Convoy; that he should find his subjects by so much the more affectionate to him, by how much their danger was more near and pressing; that having so many Cities and stops to secure him, it would be in his power to give the Law of Battle at his own opportunity and best advantage; and if it pleased him to delay the time, that under covert, and at his own ease, he might see his Enemy founder, and defeat himself with the difficulties he was certain to encounter, being engaged in an Enemy's Country, where before, behind, and on every side War would be made upon him; no means to refresh himself or to enlarge his Quarters, should Diseases infest them, or to lodge his wounded Men in safety: No Money, no Victuals, but all at the point of the Lance; no leisure to repose and take breath, no knowledge of the ways, or Country to secure him from Ambushes and Surprises: And in case of losing a Battle, no possible means of saving the remains. Neither is there want of Example in both these cases. Scipio thought it much better to go attack his Enemy's Territories in afric, than to stay at home to defend his own, and to Fight him in Italy, and it succeeded well with him: But on the contrary, Hannibal in the same War ruined himself, by abandoning the Conquest of a strange Country, to go defend his own. The Athenians having left the Enemy in their own Dominions, to go over into Sicily, were not savoured by Fortune in their design; but Agathocles King of Syracuse, found her favourable to him, when he went over into afric, and left the War at home. By which Examples, and divers others, we are wont to conclude, and with some reason, that events, especially in War, do for the most part depend upon Fortune, who will not be governed by, nor submit unto humane prudence; according to the Poet. 

Manil. Astron. lib. 4.  Et male consult is praetium est, prudentia fallax,  
Nec fortuna probat causas, sequitur que merentes:  
Sed vaga per cunctos nullo discrimine f●rtur.  
Scilicet est aliud quod nos cogatque, regatque  
Majus, & in proprias ducat mortalia leges.  
Prudence deceitful and uncertain is,  
Ill Counsels sometimes hit, where good ones miss;  
Nor yet does Fortune the best Cause approve,  
But wildly does without distinction Rove.  
So that some greater and more constant Cause,  
Rules and Subjects us to more powerful Laws:  But if things hit right, it should seem that our Counsels and Deliberations depend as much upon Fortune, as any things else we do, and that she engages our very Reason and Arguments, in her uncertainty and confusion. We Argue rashly and adventurously, says Timaeus in Plato, by reason that, as well as ourselves, our Discourses have great participation with the Temerity of Chance.   

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

Virg. Aeneid. lib. 10. — Cedebant pariter, pariterque ruebant  
Victores victique, neque his fuga nota, neque illis.  
They charged together, and did so retreat  
The Victors, and the vanquished; nor yet  
The knack of running was unto the one,  
Or to the other of the Parties known.  Their Battles were much better disputed: Now adays there are nothing but Routs: primus clamour, atque impetus rem decernit. The first shout or the first charge puts an end to the business: And the Arms we choose to make use of in so great a hazard, should be as much as possible at our own command: Wherefore I should advise to choose them of the shortest sort, and such of which we are able to give the best account. A man may repose more confidence in a Sword he holds in his Hand, than in a Bullet he discharges out of a Pistol, wherein there must be a concurrence of several executions, to make it perform its office, the Powder, the Stone, and the Wheel, if any of which fail, it at lest endangers your Fortune: A Man strikes much surer than the Air directs him. 

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

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

Virg. Aenid. 9 — Magnum stridens contorta Phalarica venit,  
Fulminis acta modo.—  
The Comet like Phalarica does fly,  
With a huge noise like lightning through the Sky,  They had moreover other devices which custom made them perfect in (which will seem incredible to us who have not seen them) by which they supplied the effects of our powder and 〈◊〉 They darted their Piles with so great violence, as ofttimes transfixed two Targets, and two Armed Men at once, and pinned them together. Neither was the effect of their slings less certain of execution, or of shorter carriage: Saxis globosis funda, 
Liv. l. 38.  mare apartum incessantes: coronas modici circuli magno ex intervallo loci assueti trajicere: non capita modo hostium vulnerabant, sed quem locum destinassent. Culling round stones from the shore for their slings: and with them practising at a great distance to throw through a Circle of very small circumference, they would not only wound an Enemy in the head; but hit any other part at pleasure. Their pieces of Battery had not only the Execution, 
Id. Ibid.  but the thunder of our Cannon also: ad ictus moenium cum terribili sonitu editos, pavor, & trepidatio coepit. At the Battery of the Walls, which is performed with a dreadful noise, the defendants began to fear and tremble within. The Gauls our Kinsmen in Asia, abominated these treacherous missile Arms, it being their use to fight with greater Bravery Hand to Hand. Non tam patentibus plagis moventur, 
Id. Ibid.  ubi latior, quam alitor plaga est, etiam gloriosius se pugnare putant: iidem quum aculeus sagittae aut glandis abditae introrsus tenui vulnere in speciem urit: tum in rabiem & pudorem tam parva perire pestes versi, prosternunt corpora humi: They are not so much concerned at large wounds; when a wound is wider than deep, they think they have fought with greater glory: But when they find themselves tormented within, under the aspect of a slight wound, with the point of a Dart, or some concealed glandulous Body, then transported with fury and shame, to perish by so small, and contemptible an Officer of death, they fall to the ground; an expression of something very like a harquebuse shot. The ten thousand Greeks in their long and famous retreat, met with a Nation who very much galled them with great and strong Bows, carrying Arrows so long, that taking them up one might return them back like a Dart, and with them pierce a Buckler, and an Armed Man through and through. The Engines of Dionysius his invention at Syracuse, to shoot, vast massy Darts, and Stones of a prodigious greatness with so great impetuosity, and at so great a distance, came very near to our modern inventions. But in this discourse of Horses and Horsemanship, we are not to forget the pleasant posture of one Maistre Pierre Pol, a Doctor of Divinity, upon his Mule, whom Menstrelet reports always to have rid aside through the streets of Paris like a Woman. He says also elsewhere, that the Gascons had terrible Horses, that would wheel, and make the Pirovette in their full speed, which the French, Picards, Dutch, and Brabanters looked upon as a Miracle, having never seen the like before; which are his very words. Caesar speaking of the Swedes; in the charges they make on Horseback, says he, they often throw themselves off to fight on foot, having taught their Horses not to stir in the mean time from the place, to which they presently run again upon occasion; and according to their custom, nothing is so unmanly, and so base as to use Saddles, or Pads, and they 〈◊〉 spise such as make use of those convenienc●● Insomuch that being but a very few in number, they fear not to attack a great many. That which I have formerly wondered at, to see a Horse made to perform all his Aris with a Switches only, and the Reins upon his Neck, w●s common with the Massilians, who rid their Horses without Saddle or Bridle. 

Aeneid l. 4.  Et gens quae nudo residens Massilia dorso,  
Ora levi flectit, froenorum nescia virga,  
Et numidae infraeni cingunt.  
Massilians who on the bare Backs do ride,  
And with a Switches, not knowing Bridles, guide  
The managed Steed, and fierce Numidians too  
That use no Reign, begird us round.  Equi sine froenis deformis ipse cursus, 
Livia, l. 35.  rigida cervice, & extento capite currentium. The Career of a Horse without a Bridle must needs be ungrateful, his Neck being extended stiff, and his Nose thrust out. King Alphonso, he who first instituted the Order des Chevaliers de la Band, or de l' Escherpe in Spain, amongst other rules of the Order gave them this, That they should never ride Mule or Mulet, upon penalty of a Mark of Silver; which I had lately out of Gueuara's Letters, which whoever gave them the title of Golden Epistles, had another kind of opinion of them than I have, and perhaps saw more in them than I do. The courtier says, that till his time it was a disgrace to a Gentleman to ride one of these Creatures: But the Abyssines on the contrary, as they are nearer advanced to the person of Prester John, do affect to be mounted upon large Mules, for the greater dignity and grarideur. Xenophon tells us, that the Assyrians were fain to keep their Horses fettered in the Stable, they were so fierce and vicious: and that it required so much time to lose and harness them, that to avoid any disorder this tedious preparation might bring upon them, in case of surprise, they never sat down in their Camp, till it was first well fortified with Ditches and Rampires. His Cyrus, who was so great a Master in all manner of Horse Service, kept his Horses to their ordinary, and never suffered them to have any thing to eat till first they had earned it by the sweat of some kind of exercise. The Scythians when in the Field, and in scarcity of provisions, used to let their Horse's blood, which they drank, and sustained themselves by that diet. 
Ma●t. l. 2.  Venit & epoto Sarmata pastus equo. 
The Scythian also comes without remorse,  
Having before quaffed up his bleeding Horse.  Those of Crotta being besieged by Metellus, were in so great necessity for drink, that they were fain to quench their thirst with their Horse's Urine: and to show how much better cheap the Turkish Armies support themselves than our European Forces, 'tis said, that besides that the Soldiers drink nothing but Water, and eat nothing but Rice and Salt Flesh pulverised (of which every one may easily carry about with him a month's provision) they know how to feed upon the Blood of their Horses, as well as the Moscovite and Tartar, and salt it for their use. These new discovered people of the Indies, When the Spaniards first landed amongst them, had so great an opinion both of the Men and Horses, that they looked upon the first as Gods, and the other Animals ennobled above their nature. Insomuch that after they were subdued, coming to sue for Peace, and to bring them Gold and Provisions, they failed not to present of the same to the Horses, with the same kind of harangue to them, they had made to the other; interpreting their neighing for a language of Truce and Friendship. In these nearer Indieses, to ride upon an Elephant was the first place of Honour, the second to ride in a Coach with four Horses, the third to ride upon a Camel, and the last to be carried, or drawn by own Horse only. Some one of our late Writers tells us, that he has been in a Country in those parts, where they ride upon Oxen with Pads, Stirrups, and Bridles, and very much at their ease. Quintas Fabius Maximus Rutilianus in a Battle with the Samnites seeing his Horse, after three or four Charges, had failed of breaking into the Enemy's battalion, took his course, to make them unbridle all their Horses, so that having nothing to check their Career, they might through Weapons and Men, open the way to his foot, 
Liv. l. 40.  who by that means gave them a bloody defeat. The same command was given by Quintus Fulvius Flaccus against the Celtiberians: Id cum majore vi equorum facietis, si effroenatos in hosts equos immittatis: quod saepe Romanos equites cum laude fecisse memoriae proditum est. Detractisque froenis his ultro citreque cum magna strage hostium, infractis omnibus hastis, transcurrerunt. You will do your business with greater advantage of your Horse's strength, if you spur them anbridled upon the Enemy, as it is recorded the Roman Horse to their great Glory have often done. And their Bits being pulled off without breaking a Lance, to have charged through and through, with greater Slaughter of the Enemy: The Duke of Muscovie was anciently obliged to pay this reverence to the Tartars, that when they sent any one Embassy to him, he went out to meet them on foot, and presented them with a Mazer, or Goblet of Mare's Milk (a beverage of greatest esteem amongst them) and so great, that if in Drinking, a drop fell by chance upon the Horse's Main, they thought themselves indispensably bound to lick it off with their Tongue: The Army that Bajazet had sent into Russia, was overwhelmed with so dreadful a Tempest of Snow, that to shelter, and preserve themselves from starving, many ripped up, and Embowelled their Horses, to creep into their Bellies, and enjoy the benefit of that Vital heat. Bajazet, after that furious Battle wherein he was overthrown by Tamerlain, was in a hopeful way of securing his own person by the fleetness of an Arabian Mare he had under him, had he not been constrained to let her drink her fill at the ford of a River in his way, which rendered her so heavy and indisposed, that he was afterwards easily overtaken by those that pursued him: They say indeed that to let a Horse stolen takes him off his mettle, but I should rather have thought that drinking would have refreshed her, and revived her spirits: Croesus marching his Army through certain furs near Sardis, met with an infinite number of Serpents, which the Horses devoured with great appetite, and which Herodotus says was a prodigy of ominous portent to his Affairs. We call a Horse Cheval entier, that has his Main, Ears, and other parts entire, and no other will pass muster. The Lacedæmonians having defeated the Athenians in Sicily, returning triumphant from the victory into the City of Syracuse, amongst other insolences, caused all the Horses they had taken to be shorn, and led in triumph. Alexander fought with a Nation called Daae; a people whose Discipline it was to march two and two together, Armed on Horseback to the War, and being in Fight one always alighted, and so they fought one while on Horseback and another on Foot, one after another by turns. I do not think that for graceful riding, any Nation in the World excels the French; though a good Horseman, according to our way of speaking, seems rather to respect the Courage of the Man than his Horsemanship and address in riding. Of all that ever I saw the most knowing in that Art, that had the best seat, and the best method in breaking Horses, was Monsieur de Carnevalet who served our King Henry the Second: I have seen a Man ride with both his feet upon the Saddle, take off his Saddle, and at his return take it up again, refit, and remount it, riding all the while full speed: having Galloped over a Bonnet, make at it very good shoots, backwards with his Bow, take up any thing from the ground, setting one foot down and the other in the Stirrup; with twenty other Apes-tricks, which he got his living by. There has been seen in my time at Constantinople two Men upon an Horse, who in the height of his speed would throw themselves off, and into the Saddle again by turn, and one who Bridled and Saddled his Horse with nothing but his Teeth. Another who betwixt two Horses, one foot upon one Saddle, and another upon the other, carrying another upon his Shoulders; would ride full career, the other standing bolt upright upon him, making very good shoots with his Bow. Several who would ride full speed with their heels upwards, and their Hands upon the Saddle betwixt several Scymiters, with the points upward fixed in the Harness. When I was a Boy, the Prince of Salmona, riding a rough Horse at Naples to all his Airs, held Reals under his Knees and Toes; as if they had been nailed there, to show the firmness of his Seat.   

CHAP. XLIX.  
Of Ancient Customs.  
I Should willingly pardon our people for admitting no other pattern, or rule of perfection, than their own peculiar manners and customs. It being a common Vice, not of the vulgar only, but almost of all Men, to walk in the Beaten Road, their Ancestors have trod before them: I am content when they see Fabritius or Lelius, that they look upon their Countenance and Behaviour as Barbarous, seeing they are neither Clothed no● Fashioned according to our Mode. But I find fault with their singularity, when it arrives to that degree of indiscretion, as to suffer themselves to be imposed upon by authority of the present Usance, as every Month to alter their Opinion, if Custom so require, and that they should so vary their judgement in their own particular concern: When they wore the Belly-pieces of their Doublets up as high as their Breasts, they stiffly maintained that they were in their proper place: Some Years after they were slipped down between their Thighs, and then they could laugh at the former fashion as uneasy and intolerable. The fashion now in use, makes them absolutely condemn the other two, with so great indignation, and so universal contempt, that a Man would think, there was a certain kind of Madness crept in amongst them, that infatuates their Understandings, to this strange degree. Now seeing that our change of Fashions is so prompt and sudden, that the inventions of all the Tailors in the World, cannot furnish out new Whim-whams enough to feed our vanity withal; there will often be a necessity, that the despised ones must again come in vogue, and even those immediately after fall into the same contempt, and that the same judgement must in the space of Fifteen or Twenty Years, take up not only different, but contrary Opinions, with an incredible lightness and inconstancy: There is not any of us so cautelous and discreet, that suffers not himself to be gulled with this contradiction, and both in external and internal sight to be insensibly blinded. I will here muster up some old Customs, that I have in memory, some of them the same with ours, the others different, to the end, that bearing in mind this continual variation of humane things, we may have our judgements clearer, and more firmly settled: The thing in use amongst us of fight with Rapier and Cloak, was in practice amongst the Romans also, Sinistris sagos involvant, 
Caesar de bello civili, lib. 1.  gladiosque distringunt. They wrapped their Cloaks upon the Left Arm, and handled the Sword with the Right, says Caesar; And I observe an old Vicious Custom of our Nation, which continues yet amongst us, which is to stop passengers we meet upon the Road, to compel them to give an account who they are; and to take it for an Injury, and just cause of quarrel. if they refuse to do it: At the Baths, which the Ancients made use of every Day before they went to Dinner, and as frequently as we wash our Hands, they at first only bathed their Arms and Legs; but afterwards, and by a Custom that has continued for many Ages in most Nations of the World, they bathed stark Naked in mixed and perfumed Waters, looking upon it as a great simplicity to bathe in mee● Water: The most delicate and affected, perfumed themselves all over Three or Four times a Day. They often caused their Hair to be pinched off; as the Women of France have some time since, taken up a Custom to do their Foreheads. 
Mat. lib. 2. Epig. 62.  Quod pectus, quod crura tibi, quod brachia vellis. How dost thou twitch thy Breast, thy Arms and Thighs. though they had Ointments proper for that purpose.  
Ll. lib. 6. Epi. 93.  Psiloiro nitet, aut arida latet abdita oreta. 
This in Wild-vine shines, or else doth calk  
Her rank po●es up in a dry Crust of Chalk.  
they delighted to lie soft, and pretended it for a great testimony of hardiness, to lie upon a Matrice. They did Eat lying upon Beds, much after the manner of the Turks in this Age.  
Aeneid. l. 2.  Ind thoro pater Aeneas sic orsus ab alto. 
Then thus Aeneas from his Bed of State,  
Begun Troy's Woeful Story to relate.  
And 'tis said of the younger Cato, that after the Battle of Pharsalia, being entered into a Melancholic Disposition, at the ill posture of the Public Affairs, he took his repose always sitting, assuming a strict and severe course of Life. It was also their Custom to kiss the Hands of great Persons; the more and better to Honour, and Caress them: And meeting with their equals, they always Kissed in salutation, as do the Venetians.  
Ovid. de pont. li. 4. Eleg. 9  Gratatusque darem cum dulcibus oscula verbis. And kindest words I would with Kisses mix. 
In petitioning, or saluting any great Man, they used to lay their Hands upon his Knees. Fasicles the Philosopher and Brother of Crates, instead of laying his Hand upon the Knee, laid it upon his Private Parts, and being rudely repulsed by him to whom he made that indecent Compliment; What, said he, is not that part your own as well as the other? They used to Eat their Fruits as we do after Dinner. They wiped their Arses (let the Ladies if they please mince it smaller) with a Sponge; which is the reason that Spongia is a smutty Word in Latin; Which Sponge was also fastened to the end of a stick, as appears by the Story of him, who as he was led along to be thrown to the wild Beasts in the sight of the people, ask leave to do his business, and having no other ways to dispatch himself, forced the Sponge and Stick down his own Throat and choked himself. They used to Terge after Coition with perfumed Wool.  

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

Lucret. l. 4.  Pueri saepe lacum propter, se ac dolia curta,  
Somno devincti credunt, extollere vestem.  
Boys Dream of Pissing in the Tub and Lake,  
And find themselves bepissed when they awake.  
They used to Collation betwixt Meals, and had in Summer Sellars of Snow to cool their Wine; and some there were who made use of Snow in Winter, not thinking their Wine cool enough at that Cold Season of the Year. The Men of Quality had their Cupbearers, and Carvers, and their Buffoons to make them sport: They had their Meat served up in Winter, upon a sort of Chafing-Dishes; which were set upon the Table, and had portable Kitchens (of which I myself have seen some) wherein all their service was carried after them.  

Mart. l. 7. Epig. 47.  Has vobis epulas habete lauti.  
Nos offendimus ambulante Coena.  
Those Feasts by you indeed are highly prized  
At walking Suppers we are scandalised.  
In Summer they had a contrivance, to bring fresh and clear Rills through their lower Rooms, wherein were great store of living Fish, which the Guests took out with their own Hands to be dressed; every Man according to his own liking. Fish has ever had this preeminence, and keeps it still, that the great ones all pretend to be Cooks in their favour, and indeed the taste is more delicate, than that of Flesh, at least to me. But in all sorts of Magnificence, Debaunchery, and voluptuous Inventions of Effeminacy and Expense, we do in truth all we can to parallel them, for our Wills are as corrupt as theirs: But we want power to reach them; and our force is no more able to reach them in their Vicious, than in their Virtuous Qualities; for both the one and the other, proceed from a vigour of Soul, which was without comparison greater in them, than in us: And Souls by how much the weaker they are, by so much have they less power to do, or very well, or very ill: The highest place of honour amongst them was the middle; the name going before, and that following after, either in writing or speaking; had no signification of Grandeur, as is evident by their writings, they will sooner say Opius and Caesar, than Caesar and Opius, and me, and thee, than thee, and me, which is the reason that made me formerly take notice in the Life of Flaminius, in our French Plutarch, of one passage, where it seems as if the Author, speaking of the jealousy of honour, betwixt the AEtolians and Romans, about the winning of a Battle, they had with their joint Forces obtained, made it of some importance, that in the Greek Songs, they had put the Aetolians before the Romans: If there be no Amphibology, or double dealing in the words of the French Translation, an instance of which I present you out of Plutarch, though Monsieur de Montaigne did not think it worth repeating.  

Plut. vit. Tit. Quint. Flaminius.  Here (Friendly Passenger,) we Buried lie,  
Without Friends, Tears, or Funeral Obsequy,  
Full Thirty Thousand Men in Battle Slain,  
By the Aetolians, on Thessalian Plain,  
And Latins, whom Flaminius led on,  
And brought from Italy to Macedon.  
With his fierce Valour, when faint Philip fled  
With greater speed to save his timorous Head,  
Than Hart or Hind, when Dogs upon the Trace,  
Through Woods pursue them with a full Cry Chace.  
The Ladies in their Baths, made no scruple of admitting Men amongst them, and moreover made use of their Servingmen to Rub and Anoint them:  

Mart. lib. Epig. 34.  Inguina succinctus nigra tibi servus alluta▪  
Stat, quoties calidis nuda foveris aquis.  
They all Powdered themselves with a certain Powder, to moderate their Sweats. The Ancient Gauls, says Sidonius Apollinaris, wore their Hair long before, and the hinder part of the Head cut short, a Fashion that gins to be revived in this Vicious and Effeminate Age. The Romans used to pay the Watermen their Fare, at their first steeping into the Boat, which we never do till after Landing.  

H●●. lib. 1. Sat. 5.  Dum as exigitur, dum mula ligatur,  
Tota abit hora.  
Whilst the Fares paying, and the Mule is tied,  
A whole Hours time at least away doth slide.  
The Women used to lie on that side the Bed, next the Wall: And for that reason, they called Caesar, Spondam Regis Nicomedis, one of the greatest Blemishes in his Life, and that gave occasion to his Soldiers to sing to his Face,  
Suet. in vita Cas.  Gallias Caesar subegit, Nicomedes Caesarem. 
Caesar the Gauls subdued, 'tis true,  
But Nicomedes Caesar did subdue.  

Id. e●d not quoted by M●●taigne.  Ecce Caesar nunc triumphant, qui subegit Gallias,  
Nicomedes non triumphant, qui subegit Caesarem.  
See Caesar Triumphs now for Conquering Gaul,  
For Conquering him King Nicomede at all  
No Triumph has.  
They took Breath in their Drinking, and dashed their Wine,  

Hor. lib. 7. Ode 11. — Quis puer ocius  
Restinguet ardentis falerni  
Pocula praetereunte lympha?  
What pretty Boy's at leisure to come in,  
And cool the heat of the Falernian Wine,  
With the clear gliding Stream?  
And the Roguish Looks and Gestutes of our Lacqueys was also in use amongst them.  
O jane, à tergo quem nulla ciconia pinsit,  
Nec manus auriculas imitata est mobilis albas,  
Nec linguae quantum sitiet canis Apula tantum.  

Persius, Sat. 1.  O janus, who both ways a Spy dost wear,  
So that no Scoffer, though behind thee, dare▪  
Make a Stork's-Bill, Ass Ears, or far more long,  
Than thirsty panting Curs, shoot out his Tongue.  
The Argian and Roman Ladies, always Mourned in White, as ours did formerly here; and should do still, were I to Govern in this point. But there are whole Books of this Argument.   

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

javen. Sat. 10. — Alter  
Ridebat quoties à limine moverat unum  
Protuleratque pedem, flebat contrarius alter.  
One always, when he o'er his Threshold stepped,  
Laughed at the World, the other always Wept.  
I am clearly for the first Humour; not because it is more pleasant to Laugh, than to Weep; but because it is Ruder, and expresses more Contempt, than the other; because I think we can never be sufficiently despised to our desert. Compassion and Bewailing, seem to employ some Esteem of, and Value for the thing Bemoaned: Whereas the things we Laugh at, are by that expressed to be of no Moment or Repute. I do not think that we are so Unhappy, as we are Vain, or have in us so much Malice, as Folly; we are not so full of Mischief, as Inanity: Nor so Miserable, as we are Vile and Mean. And therefore Diegenes, who passed away his time in rolling himself in his Tub, and made nothing of the Great Alexander, esteeming us no better than Flies, or Bladders pu●t up with Wind, was a sharper, and more penetrating, and consequently in my opinion, a Juster Judge, than Timon Surnamed the Man●●●ter; for what a Man Hates he lays to Heart: This last was an Enemy to all Mankind, did positively desire our Ruin, and avoided our Conversation as dangerous, proceeding from Wicked and Depraved Natures: The other valued us so little, that we could neither trouble, nor infect him by our Contagion; and left us to Herd with one another, not out of Fear, but Contempt of our Society: Concluding us as incapable of doing good, as ill. Of the same strain was Sta●●lius his Answer, when Brut●s Courted him into the Conspiracy against Caesar: He was satisfied that the Enterprise was Just; but he did not think Menkind so considerable, as to deserve a Wise M●n's Concern: According to the Doctrine of Hegesias; who said, That a Wise Man ought to 〈◊〉 nothing but for himself, foramuch as he only was worthy of it: And to the saying of T●●●dorus, That it was not reasonable a Wise Man should hazard himself for his Country, and ●●●danger Wisdom, for a company of Fools. Ou● Condition is as Ridiculous, as Risible.   

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

juven. Sat. 5. — Nec minimo sane discrimine refert  
Quo gestu lepores, & quo gallina secetur.  
Nor with less Criticism did Observe  
How we a Hare, and how a Hen should Carve.  
And all this set out with lofty and magnific Words; the very same we make use of, when we discourse of the Regiment of an Empire. Which Learned Lecture of my Man, brought this of Terence into my Memory.  

Ter. Adelp.  Hoc salsum est, hoc adustum est, hoc lautum est  

Act. 3.  Illud recte iterum sic memento, sedulo  

Scae. 5.  Monco quae possum pro mea sapientia.  
Postremo tanquam in speculum, in patinas, Demea,  
Inspicere jubeo, & moneo quid facto usus sit.  
This is too Salt, this Burnt, this is too plain,  
That's well, remember to do so again.  
Thus do I still advise to have things fit,  
According to the Ta●ent of my Wit.  
And then my (Demea) I command my Cook,  
Tha● into every Dish he pry and look,  
As if it were a Mirrer, and go on  
To order all things, as they should be done.  
And yet even the Greeks themselves did very much admire, and highly applaud the order and disposition that Paulus Aemilius observed in the Feast he made them at his return from Macedon: But I do not here speak of effects, I speak of words only. I do not know whether it may have the same operation upon other Men, that it has upon me: But when I hear our Atchitects thunder out their Bombast words of Pilasters, Architraves and Cornices, of the Corinthian and Doric Orders, and such like stuff, my imagination is presently possessed with the Palace of Apollidonius in Amadis de Gaul; when after all, I find them but the paltry pieces of my own Kitchen Door. And to hear Men talk of Metonymies, Metaphors and Allegories, and other Grammar words, would not a Man think they signified some rare and exotic form of speaking? And this other is a Gullery of the same stamp, to call the Offices of our Kingdom by the lofty Titles of the Romans, though they have no similitude of Function, and yet less Authority and Power. And this also, which I doubt will one Day turn to the Reproach of this Age of ours, unworthily and indifferently to confer upon any we think fit, the most glorious Surnames with which Antiquity Honoured but one or two persons in several Ages. Plato carried away the Surname of Divine, by so universal a consent, that never any one repined at it, or attempted to take it from him: And yet the Italians who pretend, and with good reason, to more sprightly Wits, and sounder Discourses, than the other Nations of their time, have lately Honoured Aretine with the same Title; in whose Writings, save a tumid Phrase, set out with smart Periods, ingenious indeed, but far fetched, and Fantastic, and the Eloquence (be it what it will) I see nothing in him above the ordinary Writers of his time, so far is he from approaching the Ancient Divinity. And we make nothing of giving the Sir name of Great to Princes, that have nothing in them above a Popular Grandeur.   

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

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

Lucret. l. 3. — Dum abest quod avemus, id exuperare videtur,  
Caetera, post aliud cum contigit illud avemus,  
Et sit is aequa tenet.  
The absent thing we covet best doth seem, The next that comes captivates our Esteem At the same rate.  
Whatever it is that falls into our knowledge and possession, we find that it satisfies not, and still pant after things to come, and unknown: By reason the present do not satiate and glut us: not that, in my judgement, they have not in them wherewith to do it, but because we seize them with an unruly and immoderate haste.  

Eucret.  Nam cum vidit hic ad victum quae flagitat usus,  
Et per quae possent vitam consistere tutam,  
Omnia jam firme mortalibus esse parata:  
Divitiis homines, & honore & laude potentes  
Affluere, atque bona natorum excellere fama,  
Nec minus esse domi cuiquam tamen anxia corda,  
Atque animum infestis cogi servire querelis:  
Intellexit ibi vitium vas facere ipsum,  
Omniaque illius vitio corrumpitur intus  
Quae collata foris, & commoda quaeque venirent.  
For when he saw all things that had regard  
To Life's subsistence for Mankind prepared,  
That Men in Wealth and Honours did abound,  
Had hopeful Issue set their Tables round;  
And yet had Hearts as Anxious as before,  
Murmuring amidst their Happiness and Store:  
He than perceived the Vessel was to blame,  
And gave a smatch to all into it came,  
That thither from without him was conveyed,  
To have him Happy and Contented made.  
Our Appetite is irresolute and fickle, it can neither keep nor enjoy any thing gracefully, and as it should: And Man concluding it to be the fault of the things he is possessed of, fills himself with, and feeds himself upon: the Idea of things he neither knows, nor understands, to which he devotes his hopes, and his desires, paying them all Reverence and Honour, according to the saying of Caesar, Communi fit vitio naturae, ut invisis latitantiba▪ atque incognitis rebus magis confidamus, vehement iusque exterreamur. 'Tis the common Vice of Nature, that we repose most confidence, and receive the greatest apprehensions, from things unseen, concealed and unknown.   

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

CHAP. LV.  
Of Smells.  
IT has been reported of others, as well as of Alexander the Great, that their Sweat exhaled an Odoriferous Smell, occasioned by some rare and extraordinary constitution, of which Plutarch, and others, have been inquisitive into the cause. But the ordinary constitution of Humane Bodies is quite otherwise, and their best and chiefest Excellency, is to be exempt from Smells: Nay, the sweetness even of the purest Breathes, has nothing in it of greater perfection, than to be without any offensive Smell, like those of heathful Children: which made Plautus, say,  
Plaut. Molest. Art. 1. Sce. 3.  Mulier tum bene olet, ubi nihil olet. 
That Woman we a sweet one call,  
Whose Body breathes no Scent at all.  
And such as make use of these exotic Perfumes, are with good reason to be suspected of some Natural Imperfection, which they endeavour by these Odours to conceal, according to that of Mr. Johnson, which, without offence to Monsieur de Montaigne, I will here presume to insert, it being at least as well said, as any of those he quotes out of the Ancient Poets,  

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

Mart. lib. 6. Epig. 55.  Rides nos, Coracine, nil olente●:  
Malo quam bene olere, nil olere.  
Because thou Coracinus still dost go  
With Musk and Ambergrease perfumed so,  
We under thy Contempt, forsooth, must fall▪  
I'd rather than smell sweet, not smell at all;  
And elsewhere,  

Id. lib. a. Ep. 1●.  Posthume, non bene olet, qui bene semper olet.  
He does not Naturally Smell well,  
Who always of Perfumes does Smell.  
I am nevertheless a strange lover of good Smells, and as much abominate the ill one▪ which also I reach at a greater distance; I think, than other Men:  

Ho●. Ep. 1●.  Namque sagacius unus odoror,  
Polypus, an●gravis hirsutis cubet hircus in alis▪  
Quam canis ace● ubi lateat sus.  
For I can Smell a Putrid Polypus,  
Or the Rank Armpits of a Redhaired Fuss,  
As soon as best Nosed Hound the stinking S●●e,  
Where the Wild Boar does in the Forest Lie.  
Of Smells, the simple and natural seem to be most pleasing. Let the Ladies look to that, for 'tis chief their concern. In the wildest parts of Barbary, the Scythian Women, after Bathing, were wont to Powder and Crust their Faces, and whole Bodies, with a certain Odoriferous Drug, growing in their own Territories; which being cleansed off, when they came to have familiarity with Men, they were found Perfumed and Sleek: 'Tis not to be believed, how strangely all sorts of Odours cleave to me, and how apt my Skin is to imbibe them. He that complains of Nature, that she has not furnished Mankind with a Vehicle to convey Smells to the Nose, had no reason; for they will do it themselves; especially to me: My very Mustachio's perform that Office; for if I struck them but with my Gloves, or Handkerchief, the Smell will not out a whole Day: They will Reproach me where I have been; the close, luscious, devouring and melting Kisses of Youthful Ardour would in my Wanton Age have left a Sweetness upon my Lips for several Hours after. And yet I have ever found myself very little subject to Epidemic Diseases, that are caught, either by conversing with the Sick, or bred by the contagion of the Air; I have very well escaped from those of my time, of which there has been several Virulent sorts in our Cities and Armies. We Read of Socrates, that though he never departed from Athens, during the frequent Plagues that infested that City, he only was never Infected. Physicians might (I believe,) if they would extract greater Utility from Odours, than they do; for I have often observed, that they cause an alteration in me, and work upon my Spirits according to their several Virtues; which makes me approve of what is said, namely, that the use of Incense and Perfumes in Churches, so Ancient, and so universally received in all Nations, and Religions, was intended to cheer us, and to ●ouse and purify the Senses, the better to fit us for Contemplation. I could have been glad, the better to judge of it, to have tasted the Cu●nary Art of those Cooks, who had so rare 〈◊〉 way of Seasoning Exotic Odours with the relish of Meats; As it was particularly observed in the Service of the King of Tu●is, who in our Days Landed at Naples, to have an interview with Charles the Emperor, where his Dishes were farced with Odoriferous Drugs, to that Degree of Expense, that the Cookery of one Peacock, and two Pheasants, amounted to a Hundred Ducats, to dress them after their Fashion. And when the Carve● came to break them up, not only the Dining room, but all the Apartments of his Palace, and the adjoining Streets were filled with an Aromatic Vapour, which did not presently vanish. My chiefest care in choosing my Lodgings, is always to avoid a thick and stinking▪ Air and those Beautiful Cities of Venice and Paris, have very much lessened the Kindness I had for them, the one by the offensive Smell of her Marshes, and the other of her Dirt.   

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

Juven. Sat. 8. — Si Nocturnus adulter  
Tempora Sanctonico velas adoperta Cucullo.  
With Night-Adulteries, if being foul,  
Thou shad'st thy guilty Forehead with a Cowl.  
And the Practice of a Man, that mixes Devotion with an Execrable Life, seems in some sort more to be Condemned, than that of a Man conformable to his own Propension, and Dissolute throughout: And for that Reason, 〈◊〉 is, that our Church denies Admittance to, and Communion with Men. Obstinate and Incorrigible in any kind of Impiety. We Pray only by custom, and for fashion's sake, or rather, we read and pronounce our Prayers aloud which is no better than an Hypocritical show of Devotion: And I am scandalised, to see a Man Cross himself Thrice at the Benedi●●●● and as often, at another's saying Grace, (and the more, because it is a Sign I have in great Veneration, and constant use upon solemn occasions,) and to Dedicate all the other Hour● of the Day to Acts of Malice, Avarice and Injustice. One Hour to God, the rest to th● Devil, as if by Commutation and Consent▪ 'Tis a wonder to me, Actions so various in themselves, succeed one another with such 〈◊〉 Uniformity of Method, as not to interfere; no● suffer any alteration, even upon the very Confines and Passes from the one to the other what a Prodigious Conscience must that be that can be at Quiet within itself, whilst it harbours under the same Roof, with so agreeing and so calm a Society, both the Crime and the Judge? A Man whose whole Meditation is continually working upon nothing but Impurity, which he knows to be so Odious to Almighty God, what can he say, when he comes to speak to him? He Reforms, but immediately falls into a Relapse. If the Object of the Divine Justice, and the Presence of his Maker, did as he pretends, Strike and Chastise his Soul, how short soever the Repentance might be, the very fear of offending that Infinite Majesty, would so often present itself to his imagination, that he would soon see himself Master of those Vices, that are most Natural and Habitual in him. But what shall we say of those, who settle their whole course of Life, upon the Profit and Emolument of Sins, which they know to be Mortal? How many Trades of Vocations have we admitted and countenanced amongst us, whose very Essence is Vicious? And he that confessing himself to me, voluntarily told me, that he had all his Life time professed and practised a Religion, in his Opinion Damnable, and contrary to that he had in his Heart, only to preserve his Credit, and the Honour of his Employments, how could his Courage suffer so Infamous a Confession? What can Men say to the Divine Justice upon this subject? Their Repentance consisting in a visible and manifest Reformation and Restitution, they lose the colour of alleging it both to God and Man. Are they so Impudent, as to sue for Remission, without Satisfaction, and without Penitency, or Remorse? I look upon these as in the same condition with the first: But the Obstinacy is not there so easy to be overcome. This contrariety and volubility of Opinion, so sudden and violent as they pretend, is a kind of Miracle to me. They present us with the state of an indigestible Anxiety, and doubtfulness of Mind. It seemed to me a Fantastic and Ridiculous Imagination in those, who these late Years past, were wont to Reproach every Man they knew to be of any extraordinary Parts, and made profession of the Roman Catholic Religion, that it was but outwardly, maintaining moreover, to do him Honour for sooth, that whatever he might pretend to the contrary, he could not but in his Heart, be of their Reformed Opinion. An untoward Disease, that a Man should be so Riveted to his own Belief, as to fancy, that others cannot believe otherwise, than as he does: and yet worse in this, that they should entertain so Vicious an Opinion of such parts as to think any Man so Qualified, should prefer any present advantage of Fortune, before the promises of Eternal Life, and the means of Eternal Damnation. They may believe me: Can any thing have tempted my Youth, the Ambition of the danger and difficulties in the late Commotions, had not been the least Motives.  
It is not without very good Reason, in my Opinion, that the Church Interdicts the Promiscuous, Indiscreet and Irreverent use of the Holy and Divine Psalms, with which the Holy Ghost Inspired King David. We ought not to mix God in our Actions, but with the highest Reverence and Caution. That Poesy is too Sacred, to be put to no other use, than to exercise the Lungs, and to delight our Ears. It ought to come from the Soul, and not from the Tongue. It is not fit that a Apprentice in his Shop, amongst his vain and frivolous Thoughts, should be permitted to pass away his time, and divert himself, with such Sacred things. Neither is it decent to see the Holy Bible, the Rule of our Worship and Belief, tumbled up and down a Hall, or a Kitchin. They were formerly Mysteries, but are now become Sports and Recreations. 'Tis a Book too Serious, and too Venerable, to be cursorily or slightly turned over. The Reading of the Scripture ought to be a temperate and premediatt●d Act, and to which Men should always add this Devout Preface, Sursum Corda, preparing even the Body to so humble and composed a Gesture and Countenance, as shall evidence their Veneration and Attention. Neither is it a Book for every one to fist, but the Study of Select Men set apart for that purpose, and whom Almighty God has been pleased to call to that Office, and Sacred Function: The Wicked and Ignorant, Blemish and Deprave it. 'Tis not a Story to tell, but a History to fear and adore. Are not they then pleasant Men, who think they have rendered this fit for the People's handling, by Translating it into the Vulgar Tongue? Does the Understanding of all therein contained, only stick at Words? Shall I venture to say further, that by coming so near to understand a little, they are much wider of the whole scope than before. A total Ignorance and wholly depending upon the Exposition of other Qualified Persons, was more knowing and salutiferous, than this vain and verbal knowledge, which has only proved the Nurse of Temerity and Presumption. And I do further believe, that the liberty every one has taken, to disperse the Sacred Writ into so many Idioms, carries with it a great deal more of Danger, than Utility. The 〈◊〉 Mahometans, and almost all others, have Espoused and Reverence the Language wherein their Laws and Mysteries were first conceived, and have expressly, and not without colour of reason, forbidden the aversion or alteration of them, into any other. Are we assured, that in Biscay, and in Britain, there are enough competent Judges of this affair, to Establish this Translation into their own Language? Why, the Universal Church has not a more difficult and solemn Judgement to make. One of our Greek Historians does justly accuse the Age he Lived in, for that the Secrets of Christian Religion were dispersed into the Hands of every Mechanic, to Expound and Argue upon, according to his own Fancy; and that we ought to be much ashamed, we who by God's especial favour, enjoy the purest Mysteries of Piety, to suffer them to be: Profaned by the ignorant Rabble▪ considering, that the Gentiles expressly forbade Socrates, Pluto, and the other Sages, to inquire into, or so much as to mention the things committed only to the Priests of Delphos; saying moreover, that the Factions of Princes, upon Theological accounts, are not Armed with Zeal, but Fury; that Zeal springs from the Divine Wisdom and Justice, and governs itself with Prudence and Moderation; but degenerates into Hatred and Envy, producing Tares and Nettles, instead of Corn and Wine, when conducted by Humane Passions. And it was truly said of another, who advising the Emperor Theodosius, and told him, that Disputes did not so much Rock the Schisms of the Church asleep, as it Roused and Animated Heresies. That therefore all Contentions, and Logical Disputations, were to be avoided, and Men absolutely to Acquiess in the Prescriptions and Formula's of Faith, Established by the Ancients. And the Emperor Andronicus, having overheard some great Men at high words in his Palace with Lapodius, about a Point of ours of great Importance, gave them so severe a Check, as to threaten to cause them to be thrown into the River, if they did not desist. The very Women and Children now adays, take upon them to document the Oldest and most Experienced Men about the Ecclesiastical Laws: Whereas the first of those of Plato, forbids them to inquire so much as into the Civil Laws; which were to stand instead of Divine Ordinances▪ And allowing the Old M●n to confer amongst themselves, or with the Magistrate, about those things, he adds, provided it be not in the presence of Young or Profane Persons. A 〈◊〉 has left in Writing, that at the other end 〈◊〉 the World, there is an Isle, by the Ancient called Dioscorides, abundantly Fertile in 〈◊〉 sorts of Trees and Fruits, and of an exceeding Healthful Air: The Inhabitants of whi●● are Christians, having Churches and Alta●●▪ only adorned with Crucifixes, without any other Images, great Observers of Fasts and Feasts: Exact payers of their Tithes to the Priests, and so chaste, that none of them 〈◊〉 permitted to have to do with more than 〈◊〉 Woman in his Life. As to the nest, so content with their condition, that environed wi●● the Sea, they know nothing of Navigation and so simple, that they understand not 〈◊〉 Syllable of the Religion they profess, 〈◊〉 wherein they are so Devout. A thing incredible to such as do not know, that the ●gans, who are so Zealous Idolaters, know nothing more of their Gods, than their 〈◊〉 Names and their Statues. The Ancient beginning of Menalippus, a Tragedy of Euriped●▪ ran thus,  
Jupiter, for that Name alone,  
Of what thou art, to me is known.  
I have also known in my time some Men's Writings found fault with, for being purely▪ Humane and Philosophical, without any mixture of Divinity; and yet whoever should on the contrary say, that Divine Doctrine, 〈◊〉 Queen and Regent of the rest, better, an● with greater Decency, Keeps her State apart: What, she ought to be Sovereign, throughout, not Subsidiary and Suffragan: And that peradventure, Grammatical, Rhetorical and Logical Examples, may elsewhere be more suitably chosen, as also the Arguments for the Stage, and Public Entertainments, than from so Sacred a matter: That Divine Reasons, are considered with greater Veneration and Attention, when by themselves, and in their own proper Style, than when mixed with, and adapted to Humane Discourses. That it is a fault much more often observed, that the Divines Writ too Humanely, than that the Humanists Writ not Theologically, enough: Philosophy, says St. chrysostom, has long been Banishned the Holy Schools, as an Handmaid, altogether useless, and thought unworthy to 〈◊〉, so much as in passing by the Door, into the Sacrifice of the Divine Doctrine. And that the Humane way of speaking is of a much lower form, and ought not to serve herself with the Dignity and Majesty of Divine Eloquence. I say, whoever on the contrary should Object all this, would not be without reason on his ●ide. Let who will Verbis Indisciplinatis, talk of Fortune, Destiny, Accident, Good and Evil Hap, and other such like Phrases, according to his own-Humour; I for my part, propose Fancies merely Humane, and merely my own, and that simply, as Humane Fancies, and 〈◊〉 considered, not as determined by any Arrest from Heaven; or incapable of 〈◊〉, or Dispute. Matter of Opinion, not matter of Faith. Things which I discourse 〈◊〉 according to my own Capacity, not what I believe according to God; which also I do after a Laical, not Clerical, and yet always after a very Religious manner. And it were as Rational to affirm, that an Edict, enjoining 〈◊〉 People, but such as are Public Professors of Divinity, to be very reserved in Writing of Religion, would carry with it a very good colour of Utility and Justice▪ and me, amongst the rest, to hold my prating. I have been told, that even those who are not of 〈◊〉 Church, do nevertheless amongst themselv●●, expressly forbidden the Name of God to be 〈◊〉 in common Discourse: Not so much as by way of Interjection, Exclamation▪ Assertion of a Truth, or Comparison, and I think the● in the right. And upon what occasion soever we call upon God, to accompany and assist us it ought always to be done with the greatest Reverence and Devotion. There is, as I remember, a passage in Xenophon, where he tells us, that we ought so much the more seldom to call upon God, by how much it is hard to compose our Souls to such a degree of Calmness, Penitency and Devotion, as it ought to be in at such time, otherwise our Prayers are not only vain and fruitless, but Vicious in themselves, Forgive us (we say) our Trespasses, as we forgive them that Trespass against us. What do we mean by this Petition but th●● we present him a Soul free from all Rancour and Revenge? And yet we make nothing of Invoking God's Assistance in our Vices, and inviting him into our unjust Designs.  
Pers. Sat. 2.  Quae nisi seductis nequeas committere divis. 
Which only to the God's apart,  
Thou hast the Impudence to impart.  
The Covetous Man Prays for the conservation of his superfluous, and peradventure, ill got Riches; The Ambitious for Victory, and the Conduct of his Fortune; the Thief calls God to his Assistance, to deliver him from the Dangers and Difficulties that obstruct his Wicked Designs: Or returns him thanks for the Facility he has met with in Robbing a poor Peasant. At the Door of the House they are going to Storm, or break into by force of a Petard, they fall to Prayers for success, having their instruction and Hopes full of Cruelty, Avarice and Lust.  

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

Lucan. l. 5. — Tacito mala vota susurro  
Concipimus.  
In Whispers we do guilty Prayers make.  
There are few Men who durst Publish to the  
World the Prayers they make to Almighty God.  

Persius, Sat. 2.  Haud cuivis promptum est, murmurque humilesque susurro●  
Tollere de Templis, & aperto vivere voto.  
'Tis not convenient for every one  
To bring the Prayer he mutters over there,  
Out of the Temple to the public Ear.  
And this is the reason why the Pythagor●●●s would have them always Public, to be heard by every one, to the end they might not prefer indecent or unjust Petitions, as he did, who having  

Hor. l. 1. Epist. 10. — Clare cum dixit, Apollo,  
Labra movet metuens audiri: pulebra Laverna,  
Da mihi fallere, da justum, sanctiumque videri.  
Noctem peccatis & fraudibus objice nubem.  
Apollo's Name pronounced aloud: for fear  
Any his Orisons should overhear,  
Muttered betwixt his Teeth, Laverna great,  
Grant me the Talon to Deceive and Cheat  
All I shall have to do with every where,  
Yet all the while, Holy and Just appear,  
And from the sight of Men be pleased to Shroud,  
My Sins with Night, Frauds with a Sable Cloud.  
The God did severely punish the Wicked Prayers of Oedipus, in granting them: He had Prayed, that his Children might amongst themselves Determine the Succession to his Throne by Arms; and was so miserable, as to see himself taken at his word. We are not to Pray, that all things may go as we would have them, but as most conducing to the good of the World; and we are not in our Prayers to Obey our Wills, but Prudence. We seem, in truth, to make use of our Prayers, as of a kind of Gibberish, and as those do who employ Holy Words about Sorceries and Magical Operations: And as if we made account, the benefit we are to reap from them, depended upon the contexture, sound and jingle of Words, or upon the composing of the Countenance. For having the Soul contaminated with Concupiscence, not touched with Repentance, or comforted by any late Reconciliation with Almighty God, we go to present him such Words as the Memory suggests to the Tongue, and hope from thence to obtain the Remission of our Sins. There is nothing so easy, so sweet, and so favourable, as the Divine Law: She calls and invites us to her, Guilty and Abominable as we are: Extends her Arms, and receives us into her Bosom▪ as foul and polluted as we at present are, and are for the future to be. But then in return, we are to look upon her with a respective, and a graceful Eye, we are to receive this Pardon with all imaginable gratitude and submission, and, for that instant at least, wherein we address ourselves to her, to have the Soul sensible of the ills we have committed, and at defiance with those Passions that seduced her to offend, for neither the Gods, nor Good Men (says Plato) will accept the present of a Wicked Man.  

Hor. l. 3. Ode 23.  Immunis aram si tetigit manus,  
Non sumptuos● blandior hostia  
Mollivit aversos Penates,  
Fare pio, & saliente mica  
The pious Off ring of a piece of Bread,  
If by a pure Hand on the Altar laid,  
Than Costly Hecatombs, will better please  
Th' offended Gods, and their just Wrath appease.   

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

Lucret. l. 3. — Ubi jam validis quassatum est aevi viribus  
Corpus, & obtusis ceciderunt viribus artus,  
Claudicat ingenium, delirat linguaque mensque.  
When once the Body's shaken by Time's Rage,  
The Blood and Vigour Ebbing into Age,  
The Judgement than Halts upon either Hip,  
The Mind does Dote, Tongue into Nonsense Trip.  
Sometimes the Body first submits to Age, sometimes the Soul, and I have seen enough, who have got a Weakness in their Brains, before either in their Hams, or Stomach: And by how much the more, it is a Disease of no great pain to the infected Party, and of obscure Symptoms, so much greater the danger is. And for this reason it is, that I complain of our Laws, not that they keep us too long to our Work, but that they set us to work too late. For the Frailty of Life considered, and to how many Natural and Accidental Rubs it is Obnoxious and Exposed: Birth, though Noble, ought not to share so large a Vacancy, and so tedious a course of Education.  
The End of the First Book.   

Books Printed for, and Sold by MATTHEW GILLYFLOWER, at the Spread-Eagle, in Westminster-Hall.  

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FINIS.   

A Complete INDEX Of the most Remarkable Matters contained in this First Book.  

A  
ABundance distastiful and disappointing. 451  
Acquaintance. 301  
Actions of former Ages. 361  
Actions, that Men should not cover to perform. 413  
Actions Virtuous now unknown. 360  
Affectation unbecoming a Courtier. 266  
Affection of a Father towards his Children. 212  
Age, and its last effects. 551  
Age fit for managing an Estate. 553  
Age dispensing the Knights from the fatigues of the War. Ibid.  
Age of Adult. Ibid.  
Age capable of great Actions. 554  
Agesilaus' Battle against the Boeotians. 466  
Albigeois burned alive 408  
Alcibiades' Constitution. 257  
Alexander the Son of Jupiter. 446  
Alexander's Cruelty. 6  
Alexander blamed by Philip his Father for singing at a Feast. 394  
Alexander's deep Sleep. 461  
Alexander's Horse. 489  
Alexander's Sweat. 531  
Ambassadors may sometimes conceal from their Master▪ what they think fit. ●80  
Ambassadors of Samos. 2●●  
Ambassador's Employment not confined 81  
Ambition Enemy to Society. 37●  
Ambition of Cicero and Pliny. 39●  
Ambition unworthy. 390  
Answer of the Duke of Florence his Fool. 355  
Antigonus the Son of the Sun. 446  
Appetites of several Sorts. 5●●  
Appetites of Men irresolute. 525  
Arcesilaus Gold and Silver Vessels. 383  
Aretine despised by Montaigne. 521  
Arms of Value inflame the Soldiers Courage. 479  
Arms of Value increase the Enemy's resolution with 〈◊〉 hope of a Rich Spoil. 4●●  
Army expecting an Enemy. 484  
Armies of the Turks support themselves cheap. 497  
Arses wiped with a Sponge. 5●●  
Art of Physic despised. 179  
Atlantis Island. 31●   

B  
BArbarians who are those that are to be called to that Name. 3●●  
Barbarians' Country, their Buildings, Beds, etc. 3●5  
Barbarians' Love towards their Wives, and 〈◊〉 towards their Enemies. 3●6  
Barbarians believing the Immortality of the Soul. 327  
Barbarians Priests and Prophets. 〈◊〉  
Barbarians Weapons. 32●  
Barbarians Obstinacy in their Battles. Ibid.  
Barbarians noble War. 331  
Barbarian King's power. 338  
Barbarians Love Song. 337  
Barbarians Language. Ibid.  
Barbarity against Men's Lives. 329  
Bargaining hated by Mountaigne. 425  
Battle lost by Antonius. 280  
Battle of Botidaea obtained by the Greeks. 361  
Battle of Auroy. 366  
Battle of Dreux, remarkable for several Accidents. 465  
Battle of St. Quentio. 477  
Battle fought on foot by Cavalry. 491  
Battle at Sea gained against the Turks. 341  
Baths used by the Ancients before Dinner. 504  
Bawdy-houses of several sorts. 152  
Beyard Captain of greas Courage. 21  
Beauty sought after by Women to the contempt of Rain. 419  
Beds made use of, to lie on at Meals. 504  
Beggars in Shirt in the depth of Winter. 355  
Behaviour. 353  
Believe. 276  
Betis' Silence and Obstinacy. 7  
Bodies perfumed. 504  
Bodies when young ought to be bend. 256  
Bo●tians's voluntary servitude. 236  
Book employment painful. 386  
Borromaeus' austere way of Living. 423  
Bows carrying long Arrows. 495  
〈◊〉 handling a Halberd with the wriggling of his Neck. 148.  
●●●vity agreeable to Men of Understanding. 236  
●●●thers Name. 287  
Brotherly Love neglected. Ibid.  
Brutus' subject to the force of Imagination. 137  
Bucanan. 269  
Buffoons jesting an the very moment of Death. 404  
Buffoons to make Sport at Meals. 506  
Burial much recommended. 25   

C  
CAesar and Pompey good Horsemen. 489  
Caesar's Horse. Ibid.  
Calisthenes, how he lost the favour of Alexander. 256  
Cannibals mar●y many Wives. 336  
Canon shot unavoidable. 67  
Canopy of State allowed, but in Palaces and Taverns. 527  
Care and foresight of the future. 15  
Cato the younger his Death. 362  
Cato a true Pattern of humane Virtue. 363  
Cato's Praise. 364  
Cato's sound Sleep. 362  
Cato's Parsimony. 522  
Cato his Age when he Killed himself. 551  
Ceremony used at the Interview of Princes. 71  
Ceremony of the Lacedæmonians at the Interment of their Kings. 17  
Chabrias lost the Fruits of a Victory, to take care of the Dead bodies of his Friends. 26  
Change to be Feared. 460  
Chastity valued in Marriage 151  
Chastity, a true Virtue. 161  
Cheerfulness, Sign of Wisdom. 244  
Chess Idle and Childish Game. 513  
Children Whipped to Death. 418  
Children in France Pretty. 251  
Children spoiled with Delicacy. 254  
Children ought not to be Suddenly awaked from their Sleep. 270  
Chivalry amongst the Lacedæmonians. 259  
Chrysippus ' s Writings. 215  
Cicero's Eloquence. 262  
Cicero's affected Eloquence. 397  
clothes unknown to many Nations. 354  
Collation betwixt Meals. 506  
College of Guienne, where Montaigne was sent at Six Years of Age. 271  
Company of ill Men dangerous 373  
Commotions, how are to be appeased 186  
Composers of Cento's. 217  
Compositions that Smell of Oil and Lamp. 56  
Confidence gains the Heart. 185  
Confidence of another Man's Virtue. 432  
Conspiracy against Augustus. 175  
Constancy of some Old Men, Women, and Children. 315  
Constancy in Affliction 377  
Constitutions of several Sorts. 255  
Contempt of Riches. 432  
Continency of the Capuchins. 359  
Continency in Marriage. 31●  
Conversation. 237  
Conversing with Men. 230  
Copulation of a Husband with his Wife already with Child, forbidden. 310  
Correction of the Male Children designed to the Fathers, and to the Mothers that of the Females. 155  
Covetousness, from whence proceeds. 424  
Counsel of Livia to Augustus, concerning Cinna's Conspiracy. 176  
Counsels depend upon Fortune. 487  
Courage, Reputation and Glory as magnificent in a Closet, as a Camp. 184  
Courtesy and Manners. 71  
Cowardice, how to be punished in a Soldier. 74  
Cowardice punished by Shame and Disgrace. 75  
Cowardice of Seigneur Franget, how punished. 7●  
Creatures esteemed by their proper Qualities. 440  
Cruelty's horrid Examples. 315  
Cruelty of the Portugueses. 329  
Cruelty of Dionysius the Tyrant. 5  
Cruelty of Nero towards his Mother. 369  
Cuckoldry not frightful. 423  
Custom Stupifies our Senses. 145  
Custom of several Nations in Marriages. 151  
Custom's Power. 158  
Custom veils the true Aspect of things. 160  
Custom, fundamental Reason for many things. 161  
Custom of wearing clothes. 353  
Custom and Manners of the French. 502  
Cyrus great Master of Horse service. 497  
Cyrus' Reverence to Religion. 22   

D  
DEath discharges Men of all Obligations. 39  
Death, the Day that judges of all the foregoing Years. 90  
Death of three most Execrable Persons. 91  
Death unavoidable 95  
Death, End of our Race. 96  
Death a harsh word to the Romans. 97  
Death has many ways to surprise Men. 98  
Death's Remembrance profitable to Men. 102  
Death's Image presented by the Egyptians to the Company after their Feasts. 108  
Death's contempt, certain foundation of Religion. 112  
Death, part of the Order of the Universe. 113  
Death cannot concern us either Living or Dead. 117  
Death's Image less dreadful in War than at home. 121  
Death preferred to a continual Trouble, 190  
Death of Arius and his Pope Leo. 341  
Death of Heliogabalus. Ibid.  
Death of Irenaeus. Ibid.  
Death of Ignatius and his Son both proscribed. 350  
Death of Lilius Giraldus and Costalin. 351  
Death, what is, several Opinions concerning the same. 402  
Death prevented or hastened. 403  
Death Shameful endured with great Courage. Ibid.  
Death constantly looked on the Face, or Voluntarily sought after. 409  
Death Frightful to some People. Ibid.  
Death of Otho the Emperor. 462  
Death how felt. 411  
Dead Men dealt with as being Alive. 19  
Dead bodies Boiled, Pounded and Drunk with Wine. 153  
Deceit and cunning in War hated by the Achaians. 32  
Deceit and Cunning allowed in War. 36  
Deceit ought to be corrected in the greenest Years. 146  
Defeat of Leonidas. 333  
Democracy. 159  
Democritus his Face. 514  
Dependence upon Princes. 233  
Deserters punished with Death by the Romans. 75  
Desires of gathering Riches has no Limits. 429  
Devotion mixed with an execrable Life. 538  
Devotion of the Heathen. 544  
Dexterity of a Man throwing a grain of Millet through the Eye of a Needle. 526  
Diogenes his Opinion concerning Men. 515  
Difference betwixt Man and Man. 439  
Dioclesian retired to a private Life. 456  
Dioscorides Island, the Inhabitants thereof Christians.  
544  
Discipline of the Lacedæmonians. 208  
Discourse Pleasant and Witty. 301  
Disease of the Mind 376  
Diseases of the Mind and Body, cured with Pain and Grief.  
313  
Disputes rouse Heresies. 543  
Diversion allowed to Youth. 255  
Diviners punished, when found false 328  
Divinity and Philosophy have a saying to every thing. 310  
Divinity Queen and Regent. 544  
Dionysius, his way of discovering Conspiracies made against him. 188  
Doublets, Belly pieces, as high as the Breast. 502  
Duty of Man, to know himself. 15  
Dying Resolution how aught to be digested. 109  
Dying time. 342  
Dying voluntary Resolution. 405  
Dying of Old Age, very scarce. 552   

E  
EDict of January famous by the Civil Wars. 285  
Education of Children the greatest difficulty of Human Science. 219  
Edward the black Prince. 1  
Emperors obnoxious to Passions. 444  
Empire of Constantinople. 347  
Employments for a sedentary Life. 384  
Employments for a retired Life. 385  
Engines of Dionysius' Invention. 495  
Engines made by Archimedes. 194  
Enquiry's Office projected. 351  
Erterprises Military. 181  
Errors of Opinions. 529  
Essays of Language. 394  
Events in War, for the most part depend upon Fortune.  
486  
Evil, what is, how enters Men. 402  
Exercises fit for Youth. 253  
Exercises wherein Men are to proceed to the utmost limits of Pleasure. 388  
Extremity hurtful to Virtue. 309   

F  
FAintness from Frigidity. 527  
Faith of Military Men very uncertain. 36  
Family of obscure Extraction, the most proper for Falsification. 471  
Farting and Organised Farts. 134  
Fashion of some Nations of going Naked. 353  
Fashion Inconstancy. 503  
Fashion of the French Court rules the whole Kingdom.  
459  
Fathers not concerned at the Death of their Children  
422  
Fear, the strongest of all Passions. 83  
Fear of an Ensign. Ibid.  
Fear of a Gentleman. 84  
Fear nails and fetters Men. Ibid.  
Fear throws men upon Valiant despair. 85  
Fear in its trouble, exceeds all other Accidents. Ibid.  
Fear is more insupportable than Death itself. 86  
Feast of Paulus Aemilius. 520  
Feeding upon human Flesh. 156  
Feet performing the Service of Hands. 148  
Felicity of Men's lives, depends upon the Tranquillity of their Spirits. 9●  
Fight with Rapier and Cloak. 503  
Fire sent for a new-year's gift. 154  
Firmness of a Prince riding a rough Horse. 501  
Fish kept in lower Rooms. 507  
Fish's pre-eminence, over Flesh. Ibid.  
Flight in War granted by several Nations. 66  
Fondness and pernicious Education of Mothers. 228  
Flood's strange alterations. 318  
Formularies of Faith established by the Ancients. 543  
Fortitude, what is 66  
Fortune has a great share in many Arts. 180  
Fortune's Inconstancy. 345  
Fortune often meets with Reason. Ibid.  
Fortune sometimes seems to play upon Men. Ibid.  
Fortune playing the Physician. 348  
Fortune doth, what Art can't do. Ibid.  
Fortune corrects the counsels of Men. Ibid.  
Fortune surpasses the rules of Prudence. 345  
Fortune's benefits how aught to be Relished. 44●  
Foundtaion of Notre Dam la grande de Boitiers. 469  
Francisco Taverna, pumped up by King Franci●  
51  
France Antarctic, where Veleguignon landed. 317  
French wisdom early, but of no continuance. 251  
Friendship of several kinds. 286  
Friendship begot by voluntary Liberty. 287  
Friendship, its true Idea. 294  
Friendship true and perfect. 295  
Friendship common and ordinary. 296  
Friendship allows community of Goods. 297  
Friendship's rare Example. 298  
Friendship perfect admits no Division. 299  
Friendship disunites all obligations. Ibid.  
Friendship are scarce. 302  
Frost hard at the mouth of the Lake Maeotis. 357  
Fruits eaten after Dinner. 505   

G  
gaul's had Missible arms in abomination. 494  
Generals changing their habit upon the point of an Engagement. 481  
Generals richly clothed in the Battle. 482  
Generals obscurely armed in War. Ibid.  
gentlemen's Duty towards those that come to visit them.  
69  
Gifts interdicted betwixt Man and Wife. 297  
Gipsies wash their Children, so soon as they are born.  
417  
Glory and Curiosity, Scourges of the Soul. 283  
Glory and repose inconsistent. 389  
God ought to be called upon, but seldom. 24  
Golden Age. 324  
Good and Evil. 50  
Good one of a Thousand. 372  
Good Men free from all injuries. 378  
Goods of Fortune despised. 382  
Goods equally Evil to the unjust. 448  
Government of Anacharsis. 456  
Governor of a place how ought to behave himself in the time of a Siege. 33  
Governor of a besieged place may go out to parley. 34  
Great men ought to hid their Faults. 451  
Greatness of the King of Mexico. 315  
Greek and Latin may be bought cheaper than 'tis commonly.  
268  
Greek taught by tricks. 270  
Green-sickness. 420   

H  
hairs pulled off in great Sorrow. 29  
Hairs suffered to grow on one side, and shaved on the other. 155  
Hairs pinched off. 504  
Happiness of Men, not to be counted before they are dead. 87  
Head uncovered in the presence of God. 356  
Heads naked in all Seasons. 355  
Heads of the Egyptians, harder than those of the Persians.  
335  
Heraclitus his Face. 514  
History of Livy. 235  
Honour and Glory are not communicable. 436  
Honour of a Victory. 437  
Hope a Valiant faculty. 489  
Horse of Artibius. 488  
Horse of King Charles. 489  
Horses of Massilians. 496  
Horses of Service, called Destriers. 487  
Horses trained up to help their Riders. 488  
Horses of Mamalukes. 489  
Horses and Arms taken from conquered Nations. 490  
Horsemen, when aught to alight. Ibid.  
Horsemen Fight. 491  
Horses fettered in the Stable. 497  
Horses of Scythia. Ibid.  
Horses of Sweden. 495  
Horses valued as much at Men. 498  
Horses of the Gascons. 495  
Horses unbridled in a Battle. Ibid.  
Horses embowled to creep into their Bellies. 499  
Horses feeding upon Serpents, 500  
Horses led in Triumph. Ibid.  
Horsemanship. Ibid.  
Houses where all things lay open. 155  
Humour contrary. 352  
Humours congregation in Men's Bodies. 368  
Husbandry a Servile Employment. 384   

I  
JEst of a Man that was going to be Hanged. 403  
Jews afflicted to make them change their Religion. 406  
Ignorance of several Sorts. 528  
Imagination occasions diseases and Death. 123  
Imagination occasions Ecstasies. 125  
Imagination of Women, big with Child. 138  
Imagination of Beasts, in the time of Copulation. Ibid.  
Immortality refused by Chiron. 120  
Impiety of Diagoras. 64  
Impostures Subject, things unknown. 339  
Impotencies of Lovers. 12  
Impurity odious to God. 539  
Incense and perfumes used in Churches. 534  
Inconstancy of Men. 6  
Indians Worshipping the Sun. 340  
Indians eating dead Bodies. 160  
Indians riding upon Oxen. 498  
Indigence accompanies Riches as well as Poverty. 429  
Enquiring into Manners and things useful to know. 23●  
Insolence Hereditary. 157  
Intention judges of Men's Actions. 4●  
Interview of two Kings. 70  
Invocation of the Name of God in all our Actions. 536  
Joy excessive occasions Death. 12  
Island discovered by the Carthaginians. 320  
Judgement proper for all Subjects. 511  
Julius Caesar his way of Speaking. 265  
Julius Caesar his way of winning Men. 180  
Justice ought not to be bought. 162   

K  
KIng of Persia his Eldest Son, how brought up. 207  
King mistrusting, thrust his Life into his Enemy's hands. 185  
King of Poland, his Clothing. 356  
Kings painful Duty. 449  
Kings in a worse condition, than Private Men in the fruition of Pleasure. 450  
Kings Prisoners to the limits of their Dominions. 452  
Kings of a worse condition than Asses. 453  
Kings stripped of all Friendship, and natural Society. 453  
Kisses of Youth. 533  
Kissing a Mark of Respect. 505  
Kitchens portable. 506  
Knowing confists in present Knowledge. 197  
Knowing by rote, no Knowledge. 227  
Knowledge of what shall come to pass. 57  
Knowledge much commended. 196  
Knowledge of Great Men, in the Head of those that attend them, and in their Libraries. 198  
Knowledge must be our own. 199  
Knowledge without Judgement defective. 204  
Knowledge's effect. 209  
Knowledge how gotten. 278  
Knowledge of ourselves. 514  
Knowledge of the Stairs. 242   

L  
LAdies holding their hands to receive their King's Spittle.  
150  
Ladies in the Baths. 508  
Laughing and crying at the same time. 386  
Laws of Conscience from whence derived. 158  
Laws received ought not to be altered. 165  
Laws changed in urging Necessity. 172  
Lawyers the fourth State in a Government. 163  
Leagues and Confederations. 300  
Learning made Lacullus a great Captain. 199  
Learning must be incorporated into the Soul. 204  
Learning not much required in Women. 205  
Learning desired for profit Sake. 206  
Learning despised by the Lacedaemonian Youth. 208  
Learning fit for Children. 210  
Learnings chief Aim. 222  
Led Horse to change in a Battle. 488  
Lesson ought to be measured to the Scholars Capacity. 223  
Lesson repeated in Actions. 258  
Letters published by Cicero and Pliny to what end. 392  
Letters of Ceremony. 398  
Letters of offer of Service. 399  
Letters of favour and recommendation. Ibid.  
Letters, Qualities and Titles. 400  
Letters Italian. Ibid.  
Letters of this Age. Ibid.  
Liberal Sciences. 24●  
Lice cracked with the Teeth. 155  
Life in its self, neither good nor bad. 115  
Life of Men, compared to the Assembly of the Olympic Games. 239  
Life more precious than Riches. 343  
Ligatures wherewith Men are fettered and prevented from Sport. 126  
Live from hand to mouth. 431  
Love in the State of Marriage. 〈◊〉  
Love Conjugal attended with respect. 312  
Love for want of a Legitimate object, creates to himself a Frivolous and false one. 28  
Love unnatural, how to be Cured. 160  
Love's Definition. 292  
Love to Women. 288  
Love ends in Friendship. 292  
Love restrained by Theology. 309  
Lords of France called Roytelets, by Caesar. 453  
Lie, what is. 48  
Lying, an accursed Vice. 49  
Lying and Stubbornness. 50   

M  
MAdam, Title given to Women of great Quality  
527  
Magistracy of Marseilles. 165  
Magnanimity in Adversity. 4  
Maid living upon Spiders. 144  
Man tied from Sport, how cured. 128  
Man's Yard, indocile liberty. 132  
Man's Yard, how animated. 133  
Marius' sound Sleep. 464  
Marriage a Bargain. 289  
Married People how ought to behave themselves the Wedding night. 131  
Meats served up by course according to the first letter of the Meats themselves: 464  
Members of Generation. 423  
Memory a Goddess. 45  
Memory coupled within firm judgement. Ibid.  
Men when aught to be counted happy. 18  
Men going naked upon the account of Devotion.  
354  
Men extend their concerns, beyond the limits of their Lives. 19  
Men had rather prate of another's Province, than of their own. 77  
Men most miserable Creatures. 312  
Men-eaters. 328  
Men ought to be esteemed by what is their own.  
440  
Men absolute Monarches of themselves, 443  
Mercy of a Prince towards a Conspirator. 175  
Mercy of Augustus towards Cinna. 178  
Milk of Mares, esteemed an excellent Drink amongst the Tartars. 499  
Method of Aristotle of instructing Alexander. 249  
Mind pliable of itself. 378  
Modesty of Maximilian. 22  
Monarchy. 159  
Money kept with more trouble than got. 429  
Moneyed men Covetous. 430  
Montaigne's Modesty. 213  
Montaigne's Education. 268  
Montaigne's Fathers Oeconomical government. 352  
Montaigne's Poesy. 364  
Montaigne's Style in Letters. 39●  
Montaigne's Letters. 400  
Montaigne's Arms. 472  
Montaigne's way of Speaking. 265  
Mourning in White. 510  
Mule or Mulet much valued. 497  
Muretus, great Orator. 269  
Music of the Spheres. 145  
Mysteries of Christian Religion. 54●   

N  
NAme of God ought not to be used in common Discourse.  
546  
Names taken in bad Sense. 467  
Names fatally affected to the Genealogy of Princes.  
Ibid.  
Names of an easy pronounciation. 468  
Names of the Ancient Nobility. 470  
Names of Land and Lordship. Ibid.  
Names and Surnames severally altered. 474  
Names going before, without Signification of Grandeur.  
507  
Nature her Image. 238  
Nature's preeminence. 322  
Nature her course. 551  
Necessity's limits. 383  
Necessity teaches violent resolutions. 478  
Nimbleness of two Men at Constantinople. 501  
Nob●●●lity and Blood. 193  
Novelty beggars ruin. 165  
Novelty of a pestiferous consequence to young Men.  
460   

O  
OBedience due to the King. 16  
Obedience dearer to a Superior, than any Utility whatsoever. 81  
Obedience to the Magistracy. 168  
Obsequies of King Philip. 28  
Observation of Graces and Fashions. 234  
Obstinacy. 233  
Odours with the Relish of Meats. 534  
Oeconomy lies heavy. 432  
Oil distributed by Hannibal to his Soldiers in frosty weather.  
357  
Opinion espoused to the expense of Life. 406  
Opinion gives value to things. 424  
Opinion of Pain. 434  
Opinions concerning good and Evil. 401  
Oracles ceased before the coming of Jesus Christ.  
57  
Osorius Historian. 407  
Over study spoils good Humour. 387  
Ovid's Metamorphosis. 272   

P  
PAin the last Evil. 410  
Pain principally feared in Death. 412  
Pain, the worst accident of our being. 413  
Pain suffered with impatience. 414  
Pain of child bearing. 417  
Pain endured at the expense of Life. Ibid.  
Pain endured with obstinacy. 418  
Pain voluntarily endured to get Credit. 420  
Painting. 180  
Palate Science. 519  
Parly's time dangerous. 37  
Part acted by the Author in a Play. 274  
Parthians perform all they have to do on Horseback.  
490  
Passions of the Soul, steal the Pleasure of external conveniences.  
448  
Peasants and Philosophers. 530  
Pedants despised. 193  
Pedant's pleasant answer. 260  
Pedantry contemptible. 191  
Peers Ecclesiastical obliged to assist the King in War.  
438  
Penitence requires Penance. 41  
People going always barefoot. 356  
Perfumes Exotic. 531  
Person beloved, preferred to the Lover. 292  
Perturbations how far allowed by the Stoics to their Philosophers. 68  
Phalarica, what sort of Arms. 493  
Philosophers despised. 192  
Philosophy consists in Practice. 258  
Philosophy and her Study. 92  
Philosophy, what is, according to Plato. 227  
Philosophy rules humane actions. 239  
Philosophy despised with Men of understanding.  
243.  
Philosophy instructs Infancy. 248  
Philosophy formatrix of judgement and Manners.  
252  
Philosophy banished out of the Holy Schools. 445  
Philosophical Qualities in Youth. 233  
Pity reputed a vice amongst the Stoics. 3  
Place not tenible by the rules of War. 72  
Place of honour, amongst the Ancients. 507  
Plato true Philosopher. 258  
Plato Surnamed Divine. 521  
Plato's belief injurious to the Gods. 537  
Plays acted by Princes. 275  
Plays of Children. 147  
Pleasures of Matrimony. 310  
Pleasure's wheedle and caress to Strangle. 387  
Plenty and Indigence depend upon Opinion. 443  
Pliny's Judgement. 280  
Plutarch's Lives. 235  
Plutarch's Elegy. 236  
Poesy and its effects. 213  
Poesy recommended to Youth. 255  
Poesy above Rules and Reason. 364  
Poesy of the Ancients. 526  
Poesy of several Sor●●. 530  
Poesy Gay. 307  
Poets and Rhimers. 263  
Poets Lyrics. 249  
Poets in greater number, than Judges of Poesy. 363  
Poetic Raptures. 180  
Politics of Lypsius. 218  
Pompey pardons a whole City, on the acount of Zeno's Virtue. 6  
Pompey's Head presented to Caesar. 366  
Pompey's engagement with Caesar. 482  
Poor in the midst of Riches. 427  
Possession, what it is. 428  
Poverty to be feared. 413  
Poverty sought after. 4●4  
Praises of great Men. 394  
Praises rejected. 437  
Prayer dictated to us, from the mouth of God, how to be used by us. 536  
Prayers in Secret. 548  
Prayers vain. 546  
Prayers Religious reconciling of ourselves to God; can't enter into an impure Soul. Ibid.  
Prayers and Supplications overcome Men. 4  
Preparation to Death Necessary. 105  
Presumption 279  
Prince's advantage, as common with Men of mean condition.  
456  
Princes ought to despise Silks and Gold. 458  
Prisoners how used by the Barbarians. 328  
Prisoners constant resolution. 335  
Production of all things. 323  
Profit of one Man, a loss to another. 142  
Prognostications vain and superstitious. 60  
Prognostications abolished by Christian Religion. 58  
Prophets and Priests punished for their false Saying.  
327  
Psalms of David, indiscreet use of them Interdicted.  
540  
Pyrrhus' Head presented to Antigonus. 366  
Pyrrhus' Ambition. 456  
Python's great Courage. 5   

Q  
QValities required in an Historian. 321  
Qualities misbecoming Merit and Condition.  
393   

R  
RAshness in Judgement. 277  
Reading of History. 235  
Reason Human. 151  
Recommendation from whence proceeds. 526  
Recreation fit for Youth. 253  
Regulus ' s Parsimony. 522  
Relics of St. Hilary. 28  
Relics of Gervase and Protasius. Ibid.  
Religion Christian needs not the Authority of Events. 340  
Repartee of a French Gentleman. 150  
Repentance. 539  
Reproaches against the enemy allowed in a Siege.  
480  
Reputation forsaken. 436  
Respects due to the Royalty, not to the King. 454  
Resolution and Constancy. 65  
Revenge against inanimated Creatures. 29  
Revenge of a King against God. Ibid.  
Revenge of Augustus against Neptunus. 30  
Revenge of Thrace's against Heaven. Ibid.  
Revenge desired. 47  
Rhetrick a Lying and deceitful Art. 517  
Rhetrick useless and pernicious. 517  
Rich Man, who is that. 424  
Riches contempt. 157  
Riches Illuminated by Prudence. 430  
Riding good for the Stomach. 490  
Rivers obnoxious to changes. 319  
Romances. 272   

S  
SAbinus ' s Life. 417  
Sacrifices of Human Bodies. 315  
Saddles or Pads. 496  
Salads according to their Seasons. 519  
Sancho King of Navarre Surnamed Trembling.  
527  
Savages. 322  
Savage ' s Policy. 324  
Sauces. 519  
Scanderbag Prince of Epirus, 2  
Scaevola ' s Constancy. 418  
Sceptre, heavy Burden. 449  
Schools and Classes. 254  
Schoolmasters, how ought to behave themselves in Teaching their Scholars. 222  
Science softens the Courage. 211  
Science of a marvellous use. 220  
Science Sterile. 388  
Scipio's confidence to a Barbarian. 184  
Scipio's great Acts, due in part to Laelius. 438  
Scythians declining a Battle. 66  
Secret faithfully kept. 41  
Self murder. 314  
Senses judge of Pain. 411  
Sentiments of Beasts free and natural. 415  
Servitude voluntary. 284  
Severity of the Colleges. 254  
Severity enemy to Education. 253  
Severus spoke best ex Tempore. 56  
Shame causes Death. 12  
Shrine of St. Stephen. 281  
Silence and Modesty. 230  
Silk ou● of Fashion in France. 454  
Sire, what Title. 527  
Surnames glorious amongst the Ancients. 521  
Surname of Great to Princes. 522  
Slings. 494  
Smell Good and Bad. 532  
Smell simple and natural. 533  
Snows storms in Armenia. 358  
Snow used to cool Wine. 506  
Society of bad Men unfortunate. 372  
Socrates his Daemon. 64  
Solicitude of Reputation and Glory. 435  
Solitude what is. 376  
Solitary Life preferred to a voluptu●s way of Living.  
343  
Solitude has the best pretence in those that have employed their flourishing Age in the World● Service.  
380  
Solitude sought after on the Account of Devotion. 385  
Solitude obnoxious to Miscarriages. 391  
Sorrow called by the Italians Malignity. 8  
Sorrow hurtful to Men. Ibid.  
Sorrow Silences Men. 9  
Sorrow proceeding from Love can't be Represented. 10  
Sorrow strikes Men dumb and Dead. 11  
Sovereign 524  
Soul has not Settled limits. 43  
Soul looking upon things several ways. 370  
Soul is, where she is busied. 374  
Souls fit for solitude and Retirement. 381  
Soul variable into all sorts of Forms. 415  
Soul the sole cause of her Condition. 433  
Soul discovered in all Motion. 512  
Soul colours things as she pleases. 313  
Soul ought to be pure at Prayer time. 537  
Sounding from whence proceeds. 125  
Spanish Body. 420  
Speaking fine. 267  
Spectacles profitable to the Society. 275  
Speech fit for Pleaders. 54  
Speech fit for Preachers. Ibid.  
Stoic ' s State. 69  
Stoick's did allow to feed upon Carcases. 330  
Stories. 396  
Stratagems in War, contrary to the Eldest Senator● Practice. 31  
Study excessive hinders the Action of the Mind. 192  
Study and its advantages. 226  
Subjection Real and Effectual. 454  
Submission mollifies the Heart. 1  
Subtleties of Logic abuse. 249  
Suit of Arms under a Religious habit. 421  
Surprises in War. 33  
Suspicion breeds jealously. 183  
Sweetness of Breath. 531  
Swisser Woman. 417  
Swords the best Weapons. 492   

T  
TAble talk. 301  
Tables distinguished by the Names of the Guests.  
468  
Teachers how should be paid. 201  
Temerity in the understanding. 282  
Terence ' s Comedies. 393  
Terror Panic. 87  
Testimony of Adrianus Turnebus. 203  
Things present don't satiate Men. 524  
Thirst immoderate after Knowledge Brutifies, 25  
Thracian King how distinguished from his People. 444  
Threaten of an approaching Death. 332  
Timoleon ' s Tears. 371  
Timon Manhater. 515  
Title of Books. 401  
Travailing very instructive to Youth. 227  
Troubles of this Life. 374  
Trees buried in Winter. 358  
Turks make themselves scars in honour of their Mistresses.  
420  
Tutor. 222  
Tyrant. 452   

V  
VAlour of three French Gentlemen. 2  
Valour and its Bounds. 72  
Value of a Man consists in the Heart. 333  
Virtue aims at Pleasure. 93  
Virtue enabled by difficulties. Ibid.  
virtue's great Benefit. 94  
Virtue taught by the Persians, as Letters by other Nations  
207  
Virtue seated in a Plain. 245  
Virtue Enemy to Anxiety and Sorrow. 246  
virtue's Value. 247  
Virtue the nursing Mother of all Human Pleasures. Ibid.  
Virtue satisfied with herself. 378  
Virtue her proper and peculiar office. 248  
Virtue embraced with two violent desire becomes Vicious.  
308  
Virtue greedy of Danger. 413  
Virtue of the Loadstone. 364  
Vices derive their Propensity from Infancy. 146  
Victory ought not to be Stolen. 38  
Victory obtained by the Lacedæmonians Flying. 66  
Victory chief aim of a General, and of every private  
Soldier. 465  
Victory puts an End to the War. 477  
Victory not allowed to him that did ask for a Dead Body. 19  
Victory in what consists. 332  
Victories fairly gotten. 333  
Virgins forced to their Husbands Bed. 368  
Uncertainty and Immutability of Humane Things.  
88  
Uncertainty of this Life, 426  
Understanding rules and Reigns. 226  
Understandings of severel Sorts. 529  
Urine of Horse drunk. 497  
Use of the understanding. 410   

W  
War's of Sylla and Marius. 478  
Wars amongst the Barbarians. 32  
Wars proclaimed by the Tolling of a Bell. 33  
Warlike Women. 156  
Watermen's Faro. 509  
Way of speaking of the Athenians, Lacedæmonians, and retians 267  
Weapons formerly used in War. 493  
Will our, the effects thereof not always in our Power  
40  
Will Irregular and disobedient. 134  
Will judges of Actions. 361  
Wine cut with Hatchets in Winter time. 357  
Wine dashed. 510  
Writings of the Counts of Foix. 221  
Wise man's Country. 237  
Wise man may live every where content. 373  
Wise men ought to do every thing for themselves. 516  
Wisdom's Acquiescency. 15  
Wisdom and Brutality. 528  
Wits ought not to be idle. 41  
Wits of several degrees. 440  
Wool perfumed made use of. 506  
Woman turned into a Man. 124  
Woman that goes to Bed to a Man, must put off her Modesty with her Petticoat. 131  
Woman fancying she had Swallowed a Pin. 136  
Woman causes her Face to be flayed. 419  
Women bitten by Lice. 154  
Women uncapable of a perfect Love. 290  
Women buried alive with the Corpse of their Husbands.  
405  
Women Succeeding to Peerages. 438  
Women masked and Painted. 517  
Women and Children excluded from enquiring into the Laws. 543  
Words the only Tie of Men. 49  
Words obliging. 398  
Words finely Spoken. 264  
Words affected. 266  
World a Looking-Glass and a Book. 238   

X  
XEnophon a great Captain and a Philosopher.  
37  
Xerxes considering his Forces, was siezed with joy and Sorrow. 370   

Y  
YOuth must be accustomed to labour. 229  
Youth's debauchery and Excess. 256   

Z  
ZEal of the Jews to their Belief. 408  
Zeal immoderate. 308  
Zeal governed with Moderation and Prudence. 543  
Ze eu●us's Laws against Woman's Sumptuousness. 459  
Zeno's Disciples. 267