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            <title type="main">Letter to a friend</title>
            <author>Browne, Thomas, Sir, 1605-1682</author>
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<note>First published: A letter to a friend, upon the occasion of the death of his intimate friend / by the learned Sir Thomas Brown, knight, doctor of physick, late of Norwich. -- London : Printed for Charles Brome at the Gun at the west-end of S. Paul's church-yard, 1690.</note>
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                  <title type="main">Letter To A Friend.</title>
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            <byline>by 
<docAuthor>Sir Thomas Browne</docAuthor>
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         <div type="main">
            <head>[Letter To A Friend]</head>
            <pb n="159"/>
            <p>Give me leave to wonder that news of this nature should have such 
heavy wings that you should hear so little concerning your dearest 
Friend, and that I must make that unwilling repetition to tell you, 
<hi>ad portam rigidos calces extendit</hi>, that he is dead and 
buried, and by this time no puny among the mighty nations of the 
dead; for though he left this world not very many days past, yet 
every hour you know largely addeth unto that dark society; and 
considering the incessant mortality of mankind, you cannot conceive 
there dieth in the whole earth so few as a thousand an hour. 


</p>
            <p>Although at this distance you had no early account or particular of 
his death, yet your affection may cease to wonder that you had not 
some secret sense or intimation thereof by dreams, thoughtful 
whisperings, mercurisms, airy nuncios, or sympathetical 
insinuations, which many seem to have had at the death of their 
dearest friends: <pb n="160"/>
for since we find in that famous story, <note>In <hi>Plutarch</hi>
his <hi>Defect of Oracles</hi>, wherein he relates that a voice was 
heard crying to mariners at sea, <hi>Great Pan is dead</hi>.</note>
that spirits themselves were fain to tell their fellows at a 
distance that the great <hi>Antonio</hi> was dead, we have a 
sufficient excuse for our ignorance in such particulars, and must 
rest content with the common road, and <hi>Appian</hi> way of 
knowledge by information. Though the uncertainty of the end of this 
world hath confounded all human predictions, yet they who shall 
live to see the sun and moon darkened, and the stars to fall from 
heaven, will hardly be deceived in the advent of the last day 
<gloss>St. Matt. xxiv. 29.</gloss>; and therefore strange it is, 
that the common fallacy of consumptive persons, who feel not 
themselves dying, and therefore still hope to live, should also 
reach their friends in perfect health and judgment: that you should 
be so little acquainted with Plautus his sick complexion, or that 
almost an Hippocratical face should not alarum you to higher fears, 
or rather despair, of his continuation in such an emaciated state, 
wherein medical predictions fail not, as sometimes in acute 
diseases, and wherein 't is as dangerous to be sentenced by a 
Physician as a Judge. 
<pb n="161"/>

            </p>
            <p>Upon my first visit I was bold to tell them who had not let fall 
all hopes of his recovery, that in my sad opinion he was not like 
to behold a grasshopper, much less to pluck another fig; and in no 
long time after, seemed to discover that odd mortal symptom in him 
not mentioned by Hippocrates, that is, to lose his own face, and 
look like some of his near relations: for he maintained not his 
proper countenance, but looked like his uncle, the lines of whose 
face lay deep and invisible in his healthful visage before: for as 
from our beginning we run through variety of looks, before we come 
to consistent and settled faces, so before our end, by sick and 
languishing alterations, we put on new visages, and in our retreat 
to earth we may fall upon such looks, which from community of 
seminal originals were before latent in us. 


</p>
            <p>He was fruitlessly put in hope of advantage by change of air, and 
imbibing the pure aerial nitre of these parts; and therefore, being 
so far spent, he quickly found Sardinia in Tivoli, <note>The 
unwholesome atmosphere of <hi>Sardinia</hi> was as proverbial as the 
salubrity of <hi>Tivoli</hi>. 

<q>
                     <l>“Nullo fata loco possis excludere: cum mors </l>
                     <l>Venerit, in medio Tibure Sardinia est.” </l>
                     <l>Mart. iv. lx. 5. </l>
                  </q>

cf. Tac. Annual. ii. 85.</note>
and the most healthful air of little effect, where Death had set 
her broad arrow: <pb n="162"/>
               <note>In the Queen's forests the mark of a broad arrow is set upon 
such trees as are to be cut down.</note> for he lived not unto the 
middle of May, and confirmed the observation of Hippocrates of that 
mortal time of the year, when the leaves of the fig-trees resemble 
a daw's claw. He is happily seated who lives in places whose air, 
earth, and water promote not the infirmities of his weaker parts, 
or is early removed into regions that correct them. He that is 
tabidly inclined were unwise to pass his days in Portugal: cholical 
persons will find little comfort in Austria or Vienna: he that is 
weak-legged must not be in love with Rome, nor an infirm head with 
Venice or Paris. Death hath not only particular stars in heaven, 
but malevolent places on earth, which single out our infirmities 
and strike at our weaker parts; in which concern, passager and 
migrant birds have the great advantages, who are naturally 
constituted for distant habitations, whom no seas nor places limit, 
but in their appointed seasons will visit from Greenland and Mount 
Atlas, and as some think, even from the Antipodes. 


</p>
            <p>Though we could not have his life, yet we missed not our desires in 
his soft departure, which was scarce in expiration; and his end not 
unlike his beginning, when the <hi>salient point</hi> scarce affords 
a sensible motion, and his departure so like unto sleep, that he 
scarce needed the civil ceremony of closing his eyes; <pb n="163"/>
contrary unto the common way, wherein death draws up, sleep lets 
fall the eyelids. With what strife and pains we come into the 
world we know not, but 'tis commonly no easy matter to get out of 
it: yet if it could be made out, that such who have easy nativities 
have commonly hard deaths, and contrarily; his departure was so 
easy, that we might justly suspect his birth was of another nature, 
and that some <hi>Juno</hi> sat cross-legged at his nativity 
<gloss>Garden of Cyrus, cap. v.</gloss>. Besides his soft death, 
the incurable state of his disease might somewhat extenuate your 
sorrow, who know that monsters but seldom happen, miracles more 
rarely in Physick. Angelus Victorius gives a serious account of a 
consumptive, hectical, phthisical woman, who was suddenly cured by 
the intercession of Ignatius <gloss>Vide Consultationes</gloss>. We 
read not of any in Scripture who in this case applied unto our 
Saviour, though some may be contained in that large expression, 
that He went about Galilee healing all manner of sicknesses, and 
all manner of diseases <gloss>St. Matt. iv. 23.</gloss>. Amulets, 
spells, sigils, and incantations, practised in other diseases, are 
seldom pretended in this; and we find no sigil in the 
<hi>Archidoxis</hi> of Paracelsus to cure an extreme consumptive or 
marasmus, which, if other diseases fail, will put a period unto 
long livers, and at last makes dust of all. <pb n="164"/>
And therefore the Stoics could not but think that the fiery 
principle would wear out all the rest, and at last make an end of 
the world; which notwithstanding, without such a lingering period, 
the Creator may effect at his pleasure, and to make an end of all 
things on earth, and our planetical system of the world, He need 
but put out the sun <gloss>Religio Medici, xiv.</gloss>. 


</p>
            <p>I was not so curious to entitle the stars unto any concern of his 
death, yet could not but take notice that he died when the moon was 
in motion from the meridian: at which time, an old Italian long ago 
would persuade me, that the greatest part of men died: but herein 
I confess I could never satisfy my curiosity, although from the 
time of tides in places upon or near the sea, there may be 
considerable deductions, and Pliny hath an odd and remarkable 
passage concerning the death of men and animals upon the recess or 
ebb of the sea. <note>Cf. Plin. Hist. Nat. ii. 98. Mead <hi>de 
Imperio Solis atque Lunœ</hi>. Shaks. Henry Vth, ii. 3.</note>
However, certain it is, he died in the dead and deep part of the 
night, when <hi>Nox</hi> might be most apprehensibly said to be the 
daughter of <hi>Chaos</hi>, the mother of <hi>Sleep</hi> and 
<hi>Death</hi>, according to old genealogy <gloss>Hesiod, Theog. 
756.</gloss> and so went out of this world about that hour when our 
blessed Saviour entered it, and about what time many conceive he 
will return again into it. <pb n="165"/>
Cardan hath a peculiar and no hard observation from a man's hand, 
to know whether he was born in the day or night, which I confess 
holdeth in my own; and Scaliger to that purpose hath another from 
the tip of the ear. Most men are begotten in the night, animals in 
the day; but whether more persons have been born in the night or 
the day, were a curiosity undecidable, though more have perished by 
violent deaths in the day, yet in natural dissolutions both times 
may hold an indifferency, at least but contingent inequality. The 
whole course of time runs out in the nativity and death of things; 
which whether they happen by succession or coincidence, are best 
computed by the natural, not artificial, day. 


</p>
            <p>That Charles the Fifth was crowned upon the day of his nativity, it 
being in his own power so to order it, makes no singular 
animadversion; but that he should also take King Francis prisoner 
upon that day was an unexpected coincidence, which made the same 
remarkable. Antipater, who had an anniversary feast every year upon 
his birthday, needed no astrological revolution to know what day he 
should die on. When the fixed stars have made a revolution unto the 
points from whence they first set out, some of the ancients thought 
the world would have an end, <pb n="166"/>
which was a kind of dying upon the day of its nativity. Now the 
disease prevailing and swiftly advancing about the time of his 
nativity, some were of opinion that he would leave the world on the 
day he entered into it: but this being a lingering disease, and 
creeping softly on, nothing critical was found or expected, and he 
died not before fifteen days after. Nothing is more common with 
infants than to die on the day of their nativity, to behold the 
worldly hours, and but the fractions thereof; and even to perish 
before their nativity in the hidden world of the womb, and before 
their good angel is conceived to undertake them. But persons who 
outlive many years, and when there are no less than three hundred 
and sixty-five days to determine their lives every year,—that 
the first day should make the last, that the tail of the snake 
should return into its mouth precisely at that time, and they 
should wind up upon the day of their nativity,—is indeed a 
remarkable coincidence, which, though astrology hath taken witty 
pains to salve, yet hath it been very wary in making predictions of 
it. <note>This remarkable coincidence happened in our author's 
case: he himself died on the seventy-sixth anniversary of his 
birthday.</note> In this consumptive condition, and remarkable 
extenuation, he came to be almost half himself, and left a great 
part behind him which he carried not to the grave. <pb n="167"/>
And though that story of Duke John Ernestus Mansfield be not so 
easily swallowed that at his death his heart was not found to be so 
big as a nut <gloss>Turkish History, p. 1483.</gloss>; yet if the 
bones of a good skeleton weigh little more than twenty pounds, his 
inwards and flesh remaining could make no bouffage, but a light bit 
for the grave. I never more lively beheld the starved characters of 
Dante in any living face; <note>Dante, describing a very emaciated 
countenance, says: 

<q>
                     <l>“Who reads the name </l>
                     <l>Of man upon his forehead, there the M </l>
                     <l>Had traced most plainly.” </l>
                     <l>Purg. c.xxiii. 28. </l>
                  </q>

Alluding to the conceit that the letters O M O may be traced in the 
human face. Cf. Hydriotaphia, cap. 3.</note>
an <hi>aruspex</hi> might have read a lecture upon him without 
exenteration, his flesh being so consumed, that he might in a 
manner have discerned his bowels without opening of him: so that to 
be carried, <hi>sextâ cervice</hi>, to the grave, was but a 
civil unnecessity; and the complements of the coffin might outweigh 
the subject of it. Omnibus Ferrarius, in mortal dysenteries of 
children, looks for a spot behind the ear <gloss>De arte medica 
infantium.</gloss>; in consumptive diseases some eye the complexion 
or moles; Cardan eagerly views the nails, some the lines of the 
hand, the <hi>thenar</hi> of muscle of the thumb; some are so curious 
as to observe the depth of the throat-pit, how the proportion 
varieth of the small legs unto the calf, or the compass of the neck 
unto the circumference of the head: <pb n="168"/>
but all these, with many more, were so drowned in a mortal visage, 
and last face of Hippocrates, that a weak physiognomist might say 
at first eye, this was a face of earth, and that <hi>Morta</hi> had 
set her hard seal upon his temples <gloss>Aul. Gell. iii. 
36.</gloss>, easily perceiving what <hi>caricatura</hi> draughts 
Death makes upon pined faces, and unto what an unknown degree a man 
may live backward. 


</p>
            <p>Though the beard be only made a distinction of sex, and sign of 
masculine heat by Ulmus, yet the precocity and early growth thereof 
in him was not to be liked in reference unto long life 
<gloss>Physiologia barbæ humanæ.</gloss>. Lewis, that 
virtuous but unfortunate King of Hungary, who lost his life at the 
battle of Mohacz, was said to be born without a skin, to have 
bearded at fifteen, and to have shown some gray hairs about twenty; 
from whence the diviners conjectured, that he would be spoiled of 
his kingdom and have but a short life: but hairs make infallible 
predictions, and many temples early gray have outlived the 
Psalmist's period <gloss>Ps. xc. 10.</gloss>. Hairs which have most 
amused me have not been in the face or head, but on the back, and 
not in men but children, as I long ago observed in that endemial 
distemper of little children in Languedoc, called the 
<hi>Morgellons</hi>, wherein they critically break out with harsh 
hairs on their backs, which takes off the unquiet symptoms of the 
disease, and delivers them from coughs and convulsions <gloss>See 
Picotus de Rheumatismo.</gloss>. 
<pb n="169"/>

            </p>
            <p>The Egyptian mummies that I have seen have had their mouths open, 
and somewhat gaping, which affordeth a good opportunity to view and 
observe their teeth, wherein 'tis not easy to find any wanting or 
decayed; and therefore in Egypt, where one man practised but one 
operation, or the diseases but of single parts, it must needs be a 
barren profession to confine unto that of drawing of teeth, and 
little better than to have been tooth-drawer into King Pyrrhus, who 
had but two in his head. <note> “Pyrrhus had an air of majesty 
rather terrible than august. Instead of teeth in his upper jaw he 
had one continued bone, marked with small lines resembling the 
divisions of a row of teeth.”——Plutarch.</note> How the 
Bannyans of India maintain the integrity of those parts, I find not 
particularly observed; who notwithstanding have an advantage of 
their preservation by abstaining from all flesh, and employing 
their teeth in such food unto which they may seem at first framed, 
from their figure and conformation: but sharp and corroding rheums 
had so early mouldered those rocks and hardest parts of his fabric, 
that a man might well conceive that his years were never like to 
double, or twice tell over his teeth. <pb n="170"/>
Corruption had dealt more severely with them than sepulchral fires 
and smart flames with those of burnt bodies of old; for in the 
burnt fragments of urns which I have enquired into, although I seem 
to find few incisors or shearers, yet the dog teeth and grinders do 
notably resist fires. In the years of his childhood he had 
languished under the disease of his country, the <hi>rickets;</hi>
after which notwithstanding, many have become strong and active 
men; but whether any have attained unto very great years, the 
disease is scarce so old as to afford good observation. Whether the 
children of the English plantations be subject unto the same 
infirmity, may be worth the observing. Whether lameness and halting 
do still increase among the inhabitants of Rovigno in Istria, I 
know not; yet scarce twenty years ago Monsieur du Loyr observed, 
that a third part of that people halted: but too certain it is that 
the rickets increaseth among us; the small-pox grows more 
pernicious than the great; the king's purse knows that the king's 
evil grows more common. Quartan agues are become no strangers in 
Ireland, more common and mortal in England: and though the ancients 
gave that disease very good words, 
<note>
                  <foreign xml:lang="gre">asfale`sta tos de` pa`ntwn kai` 
rh´i¨stos kai` makro´tatos o 
tetartsios.</foreign> Hippoc.  Epidem. i. 86.</note>
yet now that bell makes no strange sound which rings out for the 
effects thereof. 
<pb n="171"/>

            </p>
            <p>Some think there were few consumptions in the old world, when men 
lived much upon milk; and that the ancient inhabitants of this 
island were less troubled with coughs when they went naked and 
slept in caves and woods, than men now in chambers and 
feather-beds. Plato will tell us that there was no such disease as 
a catarrh in Homer's time, and that it was but new in Greece in his 
age. Polydore Virgil delivereth that pleurisies were rare in 
England, who lived in the days of Henry the Eighth. Some will allow 
no diseases to be new, others think that many old ones are ceased, 
and that such which are esteemed new, will have but their time: 
however, the mercy of God hath scattered the great heap of 
diseases, and not loaded any one country with all: some may be new 
in one country which have been old in another: new discoveries of 
the earth discover new diseases: for besides the common swarm, 
there are endemial and local infirmities proper unto certain 
regions, which in the whole earth make no small number: and if 
Asia, Africa, and America should bring in their list, 
<hi>Pandora's</hi> box would swell, and there must be a strange 
Pathology. 

</p>
            <p>Most men expected to find a consumed kell, empty and bladder-like 
guts, livid and marbled lungs, and a withered pericardium in this 
exsuccous corpse: <pb n="172"/>
but some seemed too much to wonder that two lobes of his lungs 
adhered unto his side: for the like I have often found in bodies of 
no suspected consumptions or difficulty of respiration. And the 
same more often happeneth in man than other animals, and some think 
in women than in men; but the most remarkable I have met with was 
in a man, after a cough of almost fifty years, in whom all the 
lobes adhered unto the Pleura, and each lobe unto another; who 
having also been much troubled with the gout, brake the rule of 
Cardan, and died of the stone in the bladder. <note>
                  <hi>Cardan</hi>
in his <hi>Encomium Podagrœ</hi> reckoneth this among the <hi>dona 
Podagrœ</hi>, that they are delivered thereby from Phthisis and 
Calculus.</note> Aristotle makes a query, why some animals cough, 
as man; some not, as oxen. If coughing be taken as it consisteth of 
a natural and voluntary motion, including expectoration and 
spitting out, it may be as proper unto man as bleeding at the nose; 
otherwise we find that Vegetius and rural writers have not left so 
many medicines in vain against the coughs of cattle; and men who 
perish by coughs die the death of sheep, cats, and lions: and 
though birds have no midriff, yet we meet with divers remedies in 
Arrianus against the cough of hawks. <pb n="173"/>
And though it might be thought that all animals who have lungs do 
cough, yet in cetaceous fishes, who have large and strong lungs, 
the same is not observed, nor yet in oviparous quadrupeds: and in 
the greatest thereof, the crocodile, although we read much of their 
tears, we find nothing of that motion. 


</p>
            <p>From the thoughts of sleep, when the soul was conceived nearest 
unto divinity, that ancients erected an art of divination, wherein 
while they too widely expatiated in loose and inconsequent 
conjectures, Hippocrates wisely considered dreams as they presaged 
alterations of the body, and so offered hints toward the 
preservation of health and prevention of diseases <gloss>De 
Insomniis.</gloss>: and therein was so serious as to advise 
alteration of diet, exercise, sweating, bathing, and vomiting; and 
also so religious, as to order prayers and supplications unto 
respective deities; in good dreams unto <hi>Sol</hi>, <hi>Jupiter 
cœlestis</hi>, <hi>Jupiter opulentus</hi>, <hi>Minerva</hi>, 
<hi>Mercurius</hi>, and <hi>Apollo:</hi> in bad, unto <hi>Tellus</hi>, 
and the Heroes. And therefore I could not but take notice how his 
female friends were irrationally curious so strictly to examine his 
dreams, and in this low state to hope for the phantasms of health. 
He was now past the healthful dreams of the sun, moon, and stars, 
in their clarity and proper courses. <pb n="174"/>
'Twas too late to dream of flying, of limpid fountains, smooth 
waters, white vestments, and fruitful green trees, which are the 
visions of healthful sleeps, and at good distance from the grave. 

</p>
            <p>And they were also deeply dejected that he should dream of his dead 
friends, inconsequently divining, that he would not be long from 
them; for strange it was not that he should sometimes dream of the 
dead, whose thoughts run always upon death; besides, to dream of 
the dead, so they appear not in dark habits, and take nothing away 
from us, in Hippocrates his sense, was of good signification: for 
we live by the dead, and everything is or must be so before it 
becomes our nourishment. And Cardan, who dreamed that he discoursed 
with his dead Father in the moon, made thereof no mortal 
interpretations: and even to drama that we are dead, was no 
condemnable phantasm in old <hi>Oneirocriticism</hi>, as having a 
signification of liberty, vacuity from cares, exemption and freedom 
from troubles unknown unto the dead. 


</p>
            <p>Some dreams I confess may admit of easy and feminine exposition; he 
who dreamed that he could not see his right shoulder, might easily 
fear to lose the sight of his right eye; he that before a journey 
dreamed that his feet were cut off, had a plain warning not to 
undertake his intended journey. <pb n="175"/>
But why to dream of lettuce should presage some ensuing disease, 
why to eat figs should signify foolish talk, why to eat eggs great 
trouble, and to dream of blindness should be so highly commended, 
according to the oneirocritical verses of Astrampsychus and 
Nicephorus, I shall leave unto your divination. 


</p>
            <p>He was willing to quit the world alone and altogether, leaving no 
earnest behind him for corruption or after-grave, having small 
content in that common satisfaction to survive or live in another, 
but amply satisfied that his disease should die with himself, nor 
revive in a posterity to puzzle physic, and make sad mementos of 
their parent hereditary. Leprosy awakes not sometimes before forty, 
the gout and stone often later; but consumptive and tabid roots 
sprout more early, and at the fairest make seventeen years of our 
life doubtful before that age. They that enter the world with 
original diseases as well as sin, have not only common mortality, 
but sick traductions, to destroy them, make commonly short courses, 
and live not at length but in figures: so that a sound 
<hi>cæsarean</hi> nativity may outlast a natural birth, and a 
knife may sometimes make way for a more lasting fruit than a 
midwife; which makes so few infants now able to endure the old test 
of the river, 

<q>
                  <l>“Durum ab stirpe genus, natos ad flumina primum </l>
                  <l>Deferimus, sævoque gelu duramus et undis.” </l>
                  <l>Virg. Æn. ix. 603.</l>
               </q>
               <pb n="176"/>
and may to have feeble children who could scarce have been married 
at Sparta, and those provident states who studied strong and 
healthful generations; which happen but contingently in mere 
pecuniary matches, or marriages made by the candle, wherein 
notwithstanding there is little redress to be hoped from an 
Astrologer or a Lawyer, and a good discerning Physician were like 
to prove the most successful counsellor. 


</p>
            <p>Julius Scaliger, who in a sleepless fit of the gout could make two 
hundred verses in a night, would have but five plain words upon his 
tomb. <note>IVLII CÆSARIS SCALIGERI QVOD FVIT.</note> And this 
serious person, though no minor wit, left the poetry of his epitaph 
unto others, either unwilling to commend himself, or to be judged 
by a distich, and perhaps considering how unhappy great Poets have 
been in versifying their epitaphs: wherein Petrarcha, Dante, and 
Ariosto have so unhappily failed, that if their tombs should 
outlast their words, posterity would find so little of Apollo on 
them, as to mistake them for <hi>Ciceronian</hi> Poets. 


</p>
            <p>In this deliberate and creeping progress unto the grave, he was 
somewhat too young, and of too noble a mind, to fall upon that 
stupid symptom observable in divers persons near their journey's 
end, and which may be reckoned among the moral symptoms of their 
last disease: <pb n="177"/>
that is, to become more narrow-minded, miserable, and tenacious, 
unready to part with anything, when they are ready to part with 
all, and afraid to want when they have no time to spend; meanwhile 
Physicians, who know that many are mad but in a single depraved 
imagination, and one prevalent decipiency, and that beside and out 
of such single deliriums a man may meet with sober actions and good 
sense in Bedlam, cannot but smile to see the heirs and concerned 
relations gratulating themselves on the sober departure of their 
friends; and though they behold such mad covetous passages, content 
to think they die in good understanding, and in their sober senses. 


</p>
            <p>Avarice, which is not only infidelity, but idolatry <gloss>Coloss. 
iii. 5.</gloss> either from covetous progeny or questuary 
education, had no root in his breast, who made good works the 
expression of his faith, and was big with desires unto public and 
lasting charities; and surely where good wishes and charitable 
intentions exceed ability, theorical beneficency may be more than 
a dream <gloss>Rel. Med Pt. ii. c. xiii.</gloss>. They build not 
castles in the air who would build churches on earth; and though 
they leave no such structures here, may lay good foundations in 
Heaven. <note>So Wordsworth (Eccles. Sonnet, Kin's Coll. Chapel): 
“They dreamt not of a perishable home 
Who thus could build.”</note>
               <pb n="178"/>
In brief, his life and death were such, that I could not blame them 
who wished the like, and almost, to have been himself; almost, I 
say, for though we may wish the prosperous appurtenances of others, 
or to be another in his happy accidents, yet so intrinsical is 
every man unto himself, that some doubt may be made, whether any 
would exchange his being, or substantially become another man. 

</p>
            <p>He had wisely seen the world at home and abroad, and thereby 
observed under what variety men are deluded in the pursuit of that 
which is not here to be found. And although he had no opinion of 
reputed felicities below, and apprehended men widely out in the 
estimate of such happiness, yet his sober contempt of the world 
wrought no <hi>Democritism</hi> or <hi>Cynicism</hi>, no laughing or 
snarling at it, as well understanding there are not felicities in 
this world to satisfy a serious mind; and therefore to soften the 
stream of our lives, we are fain to take in the reputed 
contentations of this world, to unite with the crowd in their 
beatitudes, and to make ourselves happy by consortion, opinion, or 
co-existimation: <pb n="179"/>
for strictly to separate from received and customary felicities, 
and to confine unto the rigour of realities, were to contract the 
consolation of our beings unto too comfortable circumscriptions. 


</p>
            <p>Not to fear death, nor desire it, was short of his resolution: to 
be dissolved, and be with Christ, was his dying ditty <gloss>2 Cor. 
v. 1. Phil. i. 23.</gloss>. He conceived his thread too long, in no 
long course of years, and when he had scarce outlived the second 
life of Lazarus; <note>S. Epiphanius mentions a tradition that 
Lazarus had died at the age of thirty when he was raised from the 
dead by our Lord, and that he lived thirty years afterwards. 
Epiphan. Hæres. lxvi. c. 39.</note> esteeming it enough to 
approach the years of his Saviour, who so ordered his own human 
state, as not to be old upon the earth. But to be content with 
death may be better than to desire it: a miserable life may make us 
wish for death, but a virtuous one to rest in it; which is the 
advantage of those resolved Christians, who looking on death not 
only as the sting, but the period and end of sin, the horizon and 
isthmus between this life and a better, and the death of this world 
but as a nativity of another, do contentedly submit unto the common 
necessity, and envy not Enoch or Elias <gloss>Gen. v. 24. Heb. xi. 
5. 2 Kings ii.</gloss>. 


</p>
            <p>Not to be content with life is the unsatisfactory state of those 
who destroy themselves; who being afraid to live, run blindly upon 
their own death, which no man fears by experience; <pb n="180"/>
and the Stoics had a notable doctrine to take away the fear 
thereof, that is, in such extremities, to desire that which is not 
to be avoided, and wish what might be feared, and so made evils 
voluntary, and to suit with their own desires, which took off the 
terror of them <gloss>Rel. Med. xliv.</gloss>. But the ancient 
martyrs were not encouraged by such fallacies; who, though they 
feared not death, were afraid to be their own executioners, and 
therefore thought it more wisdom to crucify their lusts than their 
bodies, to circumcise than stab their hearts, and to mortify than 
kill themselves. 


</p>
            <p>His willingness to leave this world about that age when most men 
think they may best enjoy it, though paradoxical unto worldly ears, 
was not strange unto mine, who have so often observed that many, 
though old, oft stick fast unto the world, and seem to be drawn 
like Cacus his oxen, backward, with great struggling and 
reluctancy, unto the grave. <note>
                  <hi>Cacus</hi> was a robber, who 
having stolen Hercules his oxen on Mount Aventine, dragged them 
backwards into his cave, that their tracks might not be discovered. 
Livy, i. 7. Virg. Æn. viii. 209.</note> The long habit of living 
makes meer men more hardly to part with life, and all to be nothing 
but what is to come. To live at the rate of the old world, when 
some could scarce remember themselves young, may afford no better 
digested death than a more moderate period. <pb n="181"/>
Many would have thought it an happiness to have had their lot of 
life in some notable conjunctures of ages past: but the uncertainty 
of future times hath tempted few to make a part in ages to come. 
And surely, he that hath taken the true altitude of things, and 
rightly calculated the degenerate state of this age, is not like to 
envy those that shall live to the next, much less three or four 
hundred years hence, when no man can comfortably imagine what face 
this world will carry: and therefore, since every age makes a step 
unto the end of all things and the Scripture affords so hard a 
character of the last times, quiet minds will be content with their 
generations, and rather bless ages past, than be ambitious of those 
to come. 


</p>
            <p>Though Age had set no seal upon his face, yet a dim eye might 
clearly discover fifty in his actions; and therefore, since wisdom 
is the gray hair, and an unspotted life old age, although his years 
came short, he might have been said to have held up with longer 
livers, and to have been Solomon's old man. And surely if we deduct 
all those days of our life which we might wish unlived, and which 
abate the comfort of those we now live, if we reckon up only those 
days which God hath accepted of our lives, a life full of good 
years will hardly be a span long, the son in this sense may outlive 
the father, and none be climacterically old <gloss>Wisd. v. 
7–14.</gloss>. <pb n="182"/>
He that early arriveth unto the parts and prudence of age, is 
happily old without the uncomfortable attendants of it: and 'tis 
superfluous to live unto gray hairs, when in a precocious temper we 
anticipate the virtues of them. In brief, he cannot be accounted 
young who outliveth the old man. He that hath early arrived unto 
the measure of a perfect stature in Christ, hath already fulfilled 
the prime and longest intention of his being <gloss>Ephes. iv. 
13.</gloss>: and one day lived after the perfect rule of piety is 
to be preferred before sinning immortality. Although he attained 
not unto the years of his predecessors, yet he wanted not those 
preserving virtues which confirm the thread of weaker 
constitutions. Cautelous Chastity and crafty Sobriety were far from 
him; those jewels were paragon, without flaw, hair, ice, or cloud 
in him: which affords me a hint to proceed in these good wishes, 
and few <hi>mementos</hi> unto you. 

</p>
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