TIs seemingly improbable, yet very true, that the things we are most acquainted with, we least know. Thus Light, than which, nothing in the whole Creati­on is more conspicuous, is as impene­trable to the dim Eyes of our Un­derstanding, as 'tis visible and obvious to those of our Bodies. Thus Time [Page 2] so generally known and discours'd of, is as obscure unto me, if not more, than Eternity it self. What more visible than Colours? Since we see nothing else; yet if I consult for re­solutions sake, Phylosophers, I shall make no more of their most satisfa­ctory Answers, than that they are, (at least to my weak understanding) meer occult qualities, un je ne scay quoy, or I know not what. So far these Great Men, though deservedly reputed not ordinary Wits, fall ne­vertheless short, of the true Orgine, and Mechanism of the most known and visible Objects. The Wind I feel, and am extreamly sensible of, especi­ally when boisterous, and blows hard; what it is, whence it comes, why it is so changeable; and yet in some parts of the World so constant, why it moves sidewise and Horizon­tally (as they speak) and not Perpen­dicularly, or from the Circumference to the Centre on a strait Line, I never yet could reach, and thought [Page 3] always the Laudable Endeavours of such as have undertaken to give us an account of those hidden, though most visible Phinomena's, altogether unsuccessful.

2. What I have said of Light, Time, Colours, &c. and whatever we are most conversant with in the Works of the Creation, I shall with a no less ap­pearance of Reason, apply to our present Subject: For what the La­tines call, Ingenium the French, L'es­prit, the English, Wit, is a thing so generally known, that there are few but pretend to be acquainted with it, and not to want it, or not to have received as great a measure of it, as the very wittiest sort can pretend to; for nothing more true than this common Word, Qui velit ingenio cedere rarus erit. Yet even those, on whom Nature has bestow­ed it most Liberally, are put to a stand, and know not what to an­swer, if you press them to determine what in realty it is. But pretending [Page 4] sometimes to know more than really they do, and being resolved to say any thing rather than nothing, they will endeavour to put you off with great and empty Words, Splendid Descriptions, Tedious Tautologies, affected Metaphors, and whatever may seem a sufficient Veil to their Ig­norance. What is it then we com­monly call Wit? I confess, I never either read or heard any thing on this Subject, that looks like a satisfa­ctory Resolution of this Question: And perhaps what I shall set down here, will prove far short of the thing I aim at. For I am of Opinion, we do so little understand the Na­ture of things, that we cannot confi­dently boast yet of any true Noti­on, or Definition. Yea, I hold that this very Definition of Man, Homo est Animal rationale, so familiar in the Schools, is near as imperfect as this, Homo est Anima rationalis, Man is a rational Soul. My Reason for this as­sertion, is because the latter Propo­sition [Page 5] presents to my Understanding nothing but what is in some Sence true, though not all the Truth: For a man indeed is a rational Soul, tho' something else. The former, besides its obscurity, gives me just grounds to suspect its containing more than the Truth; I mean, that this ratio­nal Soul, which in the Second Pro­position, I conceieve, in a manner free from matter, is really material, as depending on an Organical Body, as to its first being, conservation, and functions. For if you take a­sunder this Notion, and consider it in every respect, you shall find that this reasoning faculty, supposed to be in man, is never exerted without the concurrence of the matter, or of some material Phantasm. The contrary whereof is a prerogative granted only to those perfect Spirits, the antient Phylosophers called Dae­mons, and by the Grecians Angels, who by the priviledge of their most refined Nature, are happily freed [Page 6] from that gross and massie substance, which our Souls, how Spiritual soe­ver they be, are clogg'd with, in this Mortal Life.

3. I cannot then pretend to give you a true and genuine Notion of Wit, but an imperfect, and rude inchoate description thereof, yet so general and comprehensive, that it contains all such Creatures, as without any violence done to the Word, we may truely call Witty. Yet shall I not say with a great Man of this Age, that Wit is, un je ne scay quoy, I know not what: For this would be to say no­thing at all, and an easie answer to all difficulties, and no solution to any. Neither shall I call it a certain Liveliness, or Vivacity of the Mind inbred, or radicated in its Nature, which the Latines seem to insinuate by the word Ingenium; nor the subtlest operation of the Soul above the reach of meer matter, which perhaps is mean't by the French, who concieve Wit to be a Spiritual thing, or a Spi­rit [Page 7] L'esprit. Nor with others, that 'tis a certain acuteness of Undestanding, some men possess in a higher degree, the Life of discourse, as Salt, with­out which nothing is relished, a Ce­lestial Fire, a Spiritual Light, and what not. Such and the like Expressi­ons contain more of Pomp than of Truth, and are fitter to make us talkative on this Subject, than to en­lighten our Understandings. But what then is Wit? To hold you no lon­ger in suspence, Wit is either a senceful discourse, word, or Sentence, or a skilful Action. This Notion, though short, being as you see, disjunctive, is up­on this account the more compre­hensive: Where ever then you shall meet with Sence in discourse, &c. Dexterity and Skill in Actions, there, and no where else you shall meet with Wit. As this is so clear, that it needs no more proof than the Sun needs Light, so I leave it untouch't, and to your own Meditation, as a self-evident Principle, I shall only [Page 8] say, that Sence is so necessary for meriting the Honourable Name of a Virtuoso, and a true Wit; that Men without this advantage are deserved­ly not only reputed not Witty, but meer Fools, and senseless: Yet do I not mean that every kind of Sence in our discourse, allowes our Discourse to be stiled Witty else the number of Wits would be fargrea­ter than we are commonly aware of: Yet certain it is, there are but few true Wits, in comparison of those that have Sence enough, not to be meer Fools. We speak then here not of Sense only, but of Sencefulness, nei­ther of a dead, and down right flat Sence, for nothing more com­mon, but rather of a Lively one, as being animated by a certain Tour not usual to the duller sort. This sort of Sence is not unlike to a bright and polish'd Diamond, the other may be represented to us by a Brute, and unpolish'd one: They are both of the same Substance, not [Page 9] of the same Value, both of the same matter, not of the same form, I mean of the same Light, Splendour and Brightness.

4. As to the other part of this Description, wherein I mention a dexterous or skilful Action as a piece of Wit, I confess ingeniously, I de­sign'd by this Addition to declare, that I am not so great an Admirer of mankind, as to think that no other material Substance, but that which is congenial to my self, may be, and deservedly too, called Witty. Phy­losophers may pretend what they please, unless they prove themselves Semideos, to be more than Men, they shall never convince me that they are otherwise differenced than in Speech and Figure, from those living Creatures, we call commonly Beasts; and which I have always conceived to be in reality, Animalia rationalia, rational Catures, but of a lower Rank, and less perfect than Men. [Page 10] Neither shall any Man laugh me out of this Phylosophy with their innate instinct, which in the judgement of common understanding, is their first inward Mover, and the sole princi­pal of all their Actions. For unless you understand by this Instinct, God himself, which would be no less sur­prising, than Deus e Machina, and be­sides no satisfactory answer, you will I hope confess 'tis nothing else but an obscure and insignificant Word, in­vented only to heighten that too vain conceit we have of our own nature, by depressing that of other inferiour Creatures. For Men considering the wonderful, and most skilful, and ini­mitable Actions of Apes, Elephants, Swallows, Bees, Dogs, &c. were loath to allow them to be endowed with some kind of Reason, as if they should thereby range themselves among the Beasts. Yet being forced to give some account of these undoubted peices of Wit we daily observe in that lower sort of living Creatures, they call'd [Page 11] subtily their most ingenious Actions, the Products not of Reason, but of Instinct; whereby, if they under­stood nothing else, but an inferiour sort of Reason, and in some par­ticulars far below that of the more perfect and rational Creatures, they were only guilty of a wilful and af­fected obscurity: But if they intended by this harsh Word an entire exclusi­on of all true reasoning, they pre­tend more, than ever they did or could well prove, as I could easily de­monstrate, if it had not been done by others. They were in vain afraid alrea­dy that if they granted once the use of Reason to other Inferiour Creatures, they should not be sufficiently distin­guished themselves, and far enough removed from their Condition, as if besides Shape and Speech, the dif­ferent degrees of Reason could not make a separation wide enough between Men and Beasts: For though 'tis most true, that, Simia quicquid agat, simia erit, a Beast at [Page 12] the best will always be but a Beast: Yet I never understood why we should deny some share both of Reason and Wit to several of those inferiour Crea­tures, that do things we can neither imitate, nor account for, without granting them, in some measure, this reasoning faculty, we would feign Monopolize to our selves. I would not then stile him an Extravagant, who should conceive as much Reason and Wit in an Ape, a Dog, Fox and Elephant, as in some Men, though not meer Fools. However no man can deny, what chiefly I here aim at, that Wit is not the Prerogative of Mankind alone. A Spiders Web in my conceit, is no less, if not more ingeniously contrived, than the Wea­ver's. I conceive in a Honey Comb, with Pleasure and Admiration, a ve­ry acurate, and regular piece of For­tification; the wonderful Texture and groundless Foundation of a Swal­lows Nest, do represent to me more art, than ever I could be yet sen­sible [Page 13] of in the structure of the greatest Louvers.

1. WE are taught in the Schools, that all diversity of Wit in Men, does originally spring from [Page 14] that of their Organs. I suck't in this Doctrine in my greener years, and beleived it a while, as many o­thers of greater moment, which I have bid a farewel to since, in a riper Age: For being naturally curious, and not very credulous, I began to shake off by degrees, a certain implicate Faith, I had been for several years too much enslaved to; having more than once in my ordinary solitude, and retired thoughts, Neque enim cum me aut porticus accepit, aut lectu­lus desum mihi, called my self to an account upon what grounds I had so long stood up for such a vulgar Er­ror, I found them all to be movea­ble, unstable, and groundless; and first I thought I was neither confor­mable to reason, nor common Sence, to think that a Soul free from mat­ter and Mortality, as I conceived mine to be, should entirely depend upon a Body, both material and Mor­tal, especially as to its Chief, and most perfect Operarions, as undoubt­edly [Page 15] those of the Wit are. I had another more powerful Inducement not to shake hands with this Opini­on, and bid it adieu, which was that I remembred to have been familiarly acquainted with several, both at home and abroad, who had no visible de­fect in the Organs of their Bodies, and yet were most deficient, as to the endowments of the Mind. And on the contrary, I have known not a few, who, if you regard only their out-side, may look upon Nature as a cruel Step-mother, as having recei­ved from her no sensible marks of a Motherly Benevolence; yet if ta­ing them by another Byass, you con­sider their Abilities, you shall, I am perswaded, instantly confess, that they are more obliged to Nature, or God rather, than most of those who have received in a larger measure, those exteriour Ornaments and Gifts of Beauty. For why may we not reckon the sharpness of their Wit, and other advantages of their Souls to be more [Page 16] a sufficient Compensation for some outward Imperfections of their Bo­dies. Thus it happens sometimes, that Blind Men are clearer sighted than many of those who make use of both their Eyes. I had the luck to to be acquainted with one of this Number in Germany, whom I judged the most extemporary Wit I ever met with. I remember I was once curious to know what he thought of Black, Red, White, and other Co­lours, his answer was, he fram'd to himself the same idea of such things that we frame to our selves of occult qualities.

2. Thus all things impartially weighed on each side, I could not ascribe those differences and manifold degrees of Wit we observe among the genera­lity of Men, to any other Cause with a greater appearance of Truth, than to the different perfections of their Souls: For meditating sometimes upon the grounds of this common Word, quantum homo homini praestat, [Page 17] how much one man surpasseth another in Vivacity, sharpness, penitrancy, and other intellectual Endowments. I was inclined to believe some things among those Imperfect Spirits, for such are the Souls of Men, as being each of them but a part of the whole Man, answerable to what Divinity will needs have us to admit, a­mong those perfect Spirits, we call Angels. I was inclined I say, to think that there are different Species or Hierarchies of Souls, as well as of other created Spirits. For I conceive an Angel, and I believe the School Di­vines will not give me the lye, to be farther distant from the perfection of a Cherubim, or Seraphim, than a Lyon, or any other inferiour Crea­ture is from that of a Man. Now the reason of this great variety in that superiour Spiritual Nature, esta­blisheth the same, or not an unlike one in the Souls of Men. The Divines then say, that if God had created but one sort of things, or one [Page 18] single Species, he had not given us so ve­ry Illustrious Marks of his Power, and Wisdom; and consequently had bin less glorifyed by us. Undoubtedly then a Specifical variety of Spirits, as they speak in the Schools, must needs be a greater manifestation of his Glo­ry, than, to borrow this other Scho­lastick Expression, a meer numerical one. We may discourse after the same manner of our Souls. For as the great diversity of Bodies furnisheth us with a nobler Idea of Gods Power, than if he had created but one kind, or all of one Texture; so if I suppose dif­ferent Species, and Hierarchies of Souls as of Angels, I frame, no doubt, a higher conceit of his perfections. Yet notwithstanding all this, you shall not be allowed hence to infer, that there are different Species of Men: For this Denomination we take from what is most obvious to our Senses, that is from the Bodies. In which we can observe no such difference, as we may easily take notice of between a [Page 19] Horse and a Lion, a Lion, an Ape, and a Bird, &c. this Doctrine will raise in our minds a great Respect and Ve­neration for Men of greater Abilities than we know our selves to be of; for we shall conceive their Souls are in a higher order, as indeed they are, and consequently pay to them a due and proportionable Homage, as An­gels do Honour and Esteem Arch­angels, and Archangels likewise Pow­ers, Thrones, &c. But I must needs here, for your further satisfaction, answer some curious inquiries about this matter.

1. How comes it to pass that a most perfect Soul is sometimes lodg­ed in a most defectuous Body? I an­swer, this happens against the inten­tion of Nature: for Nature delights in proportion, and reason teacheth us, there should be some proportion between the Beauty of the Soul, and that of the Body it lodgeth in, as the Stateliest Pallaces are ordinarily the dwelling places of the greatest [Page 20] Princes. 2. Are not the noblest Souls more ordinarily lodged in beauti­ful Bodies? I answer they are; for the reason above mentioned, and 'tis by accident, if perhaps the contrary happeneth. But these are the solu­tions of a meer Naturalist, or of one that favours too much Nature. I answer then in Second Instance, we must search after the true cause of such surprizing contingencies in the first cause of all things, I mean in God himself, who may do, and does some­times, what, to our weak Judgements, Nature neither seems to desire nor re­quire. 3. Doth it never happen that a Soul of the first or second Order, that is a most perfect one, is so disa­bled, during its stay in a corruptible Body, as never to discover its natu­ral abilities? I answer 'tis not likely that such a case shou'd ever happen, or if it does, this is as I was saying before, against the intention of Nature, tho' not of the Author of Nature, and a meer chance occasion'd by some con­siderable [Page 21] defect of our Organs, which the Soul, how perfect soever, is not able to supply, because it wants a fit and convenient matter to work up­on. But hence some that take notice but of few things, and consequent­ly are easily mistaken, may conclude the contrary of what I intend to assert, that the various degrees of Wit depend on the diversity of our Or­gans; which cannot be Lawfully in­ferred from what I have said, for as if we place the most imperfect Soul, that is one of the Lowest Order, in the most compleat Body can be ima­gined, it shall never for all this, trans­cend its own dull nature, and by consequence shall operate but very imperfectly, so if we conceive the Noblest Soul that ever God created in a Body most imperfect, that is, de­stitute of necessary Organs, or having but the Rudiments of true Organs, it shall never do what otherwise it had been able to perform, because it can­not discover to us its abilities in this [Page 22] Life, but by these material instru­ments, nor operate to any perfection they be wanting, or notably defective Which argued only Imperfection i [...] the Instruments, not in the principa [...] Agent. Thus the defects we observ [...] in a meer fool, are not really in hi [...] Soul, but occasioned by the overthrow of those parts of his Body without which he cannot utter himself rationally. Whensoever then perceive by all the most visible sign of Health, and good Texture, tw [...] Bodies equally Sound, Perfect, an [...] Acomplisht, and yet a notable difference between the two Persons t [...] whom those Bodies belong; a notabl [...] difference I say as to their Intellectuals, I mean Judgement, Sence, Sharpness and Wit, I conclude instantly without further deliberation, an [...] perhaps without Error too, that the one hath a Soul of a Lower Rank, and the other of a Higher.

[Page 23]3. Yet I acknowledge willingly there may be other Inferiour Causes, that contribute not a litle to the in­crease of Wit: For how perfect so­ever we conceive the Soul to be, she requires still the help both of Vital and Animal Spirits. And if these be but too few, or not lively enough, you shall find her slow, dull and heavy. 'Tis not then an unwholsome Advice to all such as are sensible they have received from above, Animam bonam, a not very imperfect Soul; to con­serve with all possible care the ne­cessary Instruments of her most Spi­ritual Operations; I mean not to consume by excessive Venery, exces­sive Drink, or any other kind of Surfeit those Spirits, without which their Souls, though never so perfect, will act but very imperfectly, and far below that degree of perfection God hath allowed them. Upon this ac­count, a sober Dyet, or temperate Life is the best Preserver both of Wit and Health; for nothing more true [Page 24] than this common Word Vinum mo­derate sumptum acuit ingenium, Wine doth not only strengthen the Stomack but likewise quickens the Spirits, if moderately made use of; as on the contrary it weakens the Stomack, and darkens the Understanding, if taken excessively, or beyond a proportio­nable measure.

4. There is as yet another greater Promoter of Wit, we must not for­get, which is to converse often, and keep Company with those that are re­ally Ingenious and Witty: For though your Soul, perhaps, be of the highest Hierarchy, yet it moves not it self easily, unless it be first moved; it must then be rouz'd up, and awakened by the Company of those who can in­sensibly improve those real Talents God has vouchsafed to bestow upon it: For as we may boldly judge of a Mans Temper, or good Humour, of his good or bad Morals, if once we are informed what Company he most frequents; so likewise we may [Page 25] guess at his intellectuals by the Capa­city, and Abilities of such as he is most conversant with. For expe­rience has taught us more than once, that ingenious Men become at length dull and heavy, by frequenting too much the duller sort; whereof I think this account may be given with­out some shew of probability. In­genious Men have need of some con­siderable encouragement to display those Talents they have received from above. Now neither esteeming nor valuing much the Esteem of mean Capacities, they fall in a manner, in a certain Lethargy, and are not able to rouze up their Spirits for want of sufficient inducements. And this often happening, begets in them a habit, they cannot easily be afterwards rid of.

5. On the contrary, nothing im­proves us more than a frequent con­verse with the wittiest sort, as daily Experience sheweth; and the cu­stome of the Ancient Phylosophers, [Page 26] who travelled all the World over, to see and hear the Learnedst Men of their times; which example is followed in this very age we live in by most Nations of Europe, the Scots especially, and the Germans, and by the English of late, who, for the most part, become not only smoother, and more polite by their travelling into Forreign Countries, but sharper too, and Wittier; as eve­ry one may easily observe, who will be at the pains to compare a meer­ly home-bread Gentleman, with one that has either lived abroad, or con­vers'd much with Strangers, especially the ingenious sort at home: I look up­on the former as a meer Clown, de­stitute of that Delicacy of Wit, and discerning Faculty, you shall find upon occasion in the latter. But all this is to be understood cum grano salis, in this supposition that you have not a Soul of the lowest Rank, but one that may hold in the Hierarchy or imperfect Spirits, a place at least of [Page 27] an Archangel, I mean, that is not in the very lowest Order of Souls: for let a Man travel never so far, and converse never so much, he shall at­tempt in vain the attainment of that Wit, which by reason of the innate Imperfection of his Understanding, he is not capable of. If then a Fa­ther minds to send his Son abroad, in Order to improve his Understanding, let him consult first with himself, and others, if he be capable of any con­siderable improvement; for the first and chief Source in us of Wit is the Soul it self, which, all our indeavours shall not be able to quicken, if it be heavy and dull by Nature. For as some rough Stones may be smoothed into a bright Diamond, because they contain already what ever is most valuable in a Diamond; so some others, for a contrary Reason, can never be changed into so Noble Sub­stance. Even so, if our Souls be re­ally capable of a further improve­ment they may be so far improved, [Page 28] as to attain to no ordinary Perfe­ction; but we lose our Time, if we pretend to equalize them at length to those of a higher Order, and Su­periour to them in Nature. For I take the supernatural Order, and the Natural to be proportionably an­swerable to one another. As then there is a certain finite number of Blessings, wherewith we may, if we please, work our Salvation, which being once granted, and infus'd, we can obtain no more; so likewise there is a certain pitch and measure of Na­tural Ability, beyond which, with all our possible endeavours, we can never reach. If then your Soul be of the Lowest Hierarchy, you can no more pretend to the Excellency of a Higher one, than an Angel to be an Archangel, or an Archangel to be a Power, &c.

1. I Never wondred much at the great variety of Physiog­nomies and Humane Bodies, be­cause I am fully perswaded that a perfect resemblance in every par­ticular, is either impossible, or can be at the most, but a work of meer chance, by a fortuitous Coha­lition of the compounding corpus­cles into the same Texture. But be­lieving no such Composition or Tex­ture [Page 30] in our Spiritual Souls, I ever look't upon them as more deserving pieces of Wonder. I was always then extreamly surprized, and I am yet, that among so many Millions of Rational Souls, God hath created since the first Birth of the World; there are so few, if any at all, resem­bling exactly one another: For tho' they fall not under the reach of our Eyes, yet we cannot but know infal­libly their real discrepancies, by the diversity we observe in their respe­ctive productions, which, as I was lately saying, spring originally from the Soul, though sometimes it may suffer an occasional stop, or chance, by the Temper of the Body. But to be more plain, what I say deser­ved ever my highest admiration, was this, that let mens Bodies resemble never so much one another, their Souls shall never be near of the same temper; by which I mean not only the same humour, but likewise the same degree of Perfection or Wit. [Page 31] Whereof for Methods sake we may consider two sorts: The First I call Habitual, the Second Accidental. An habitual Wit is proper only to all such and only to such as are habitually inclin'd, and disposed to think and speak sensefully, and to the Purpose on all occasions. And this is the true Character of those that are deserved­ly called Witty. Such observe natu­rally St. Bernard's Judicious Precept, Verbum bis Veniat ad Limam quam se­mel ad Linguam, they think twice be­fore they speak once, least their words should forerun their thoughts. They are wise, discreet, humble, peaceable, and the fittest of all Men for the Managment of great Affairs. The accidental Wit is the Product in a manner of a meer chance, and ha­zard, such as that of most, at least of many Women, the most talkative, but neither the most judicious, nor the most thinking part of Mankind. They say sometimes, things that look like Wit, but impetu naturae non judi­cii, [Page 32] meerly by a suddain vehemency of their Nature, or rather a certain volubility of their Tongues, not by Judgement, or a serious reflection, what proportion their discourse may have with the Subject in question, be­cause, they seldom take notice of the Dictates of their discerning Faculty, but follow the sudden motions of a mutable and confu­sed Imagination or Fancy. [...]his is only to be understood of that sort of Women, who are to be accounted Witless rather, than Witty: For this accidental Wit we are now speaking of, holds so much of Chance, that meer Fools may now and then stum­ble upon it. And I am really of opi­nion, as, Nemo omnibus horis sapit, No Man hath always his Wits about him, so likewise, Nemo omnibus horis desi­pit, no mans Brains are so darkn'd, but that he may have on certain occasions some Lucid Intervals. We must not then judge a Man Witty, as some short sighted People do, because of [Page 33] his uttering a Witty word, or two, by chance rather than by judgement. 'Tis not one or two Conversations, nor broken pieces of Discourse, that we are to take our measures by for de­cisions of this nature; but after, at least some days familiar converse with those, whose Reach and Capacity we are curious to know, we may become capable of making such discove­ries.

2. There is a second distinction of Wits worthy our Consideration. Some we may call Ʋniversal Wits, other Singular ones; which Word I take not in the most obvious Sense, as it imports some peculiar pre-eminency, but as it may be determined to imply a limitation of Capacity to some par­ticular Subject. For 'tis most certain that, Non omnia possumus omnes, as there are many things we cannot overcome with the strength of our Bodies, so there are far more beyond the greatest Abilities, and longest reach of our Souls. Thus a Man may [Page 34] prove an able Mathematician, who shall be but an ordinary Divine, and on the contrary you shall meet with most subtle School Divines, that are simple and dull in all other respects. Thus likewise you may meet with some Physitians that can discourse pertinently enough of all Tempers and Distempers, yea, and prescribe in general twenty different Remedies for the same Disease, yet want a cer­tain practical Judgement, so necessa­ry for a due application, that they kill unhappily more than they cure. I have been familiarly acquainted with some excellent Gamesters at the Chess, which is thought to require a great deal of Wit, whom certainly I knew to be of little or no Understanding in all other things. Whereof we can give no rational account, unless we sup­pose, what I hold to be most true, that there are some Characters of Wit inconsistent one with another, be­cause they depend upon different principles; some springing from the [Page 35] Intellect, and some from the Imagi­nation, faculties so opposite one to another, that we can hardly ever ex­cel in them both, because the latter relies much upon meer proportion, combination, shape, and situtation, and the former from all such Materialities. Hence if a man is a most skilful Gamester at the Chess▪ but cannot penetrate the subtile School Difficulties, 'tis an eviden [...] mark that his Imaginative facul­ty hath the advantage above the Intellective. And again, if an able Divine find himself unfit for the Ma­thematicks, Chess, or any other Me­chanical exercise depending much up­on the shape of things proportion, figure, and situation, he may cer­tainly thence conclude, that Nature hath bestowed upon him a penetran­cy of understanding, but no consi­derable quickness of Imagination. As to those Wits I have called Ʋni­versal, I know not, if in the rigour of the Word it may be allowable, [Page 36] that there are any such in the World. But taking the thing in a less rigo­rous sense, we may say, That such as have a general Wit fit for all Sci­ences, Arts, Employs, or at least can discourse ingeniously, and to the purpose, with a certain air of pro­bability of any Subject whatsoever, are to be accounted Ʋniversal Wits. For this Character implies at least, be­sides a not ordinary quickness of Imagination, some general Notions and Ideas of most honourable things.

3. But here is a third distinction, or rather a third sort of Wits: For some are slow, and others extemporary. The latter are Men of a suddain and extemporary sharpness, and much esteemed by the lesser discerning sort, because having always an an­swer at hand to any Question what­soever you may propose to them, they are never surprized. Such sort of Men discover all their abilities in the first converse you have with 'em, [Page 37] because they are not capable to speak to the purpose after premeditation; a witty Word must needs issue out of their Mouths on a suddain, as a Lightning out of a dark Cloud. The Slower Wits, as not being quick in their replies, are often laugh't at by the less understanding sort. They conceive easily enough, but mistru­sting prudently their own Abilities, venture not to utter their Thoughts, till they understand the matter en­tirely, and to the bottom. You may compare them unfitly to the Water, that admits easily of any sort of Figure, or Character you please to frame upon it with your Finger, but shall in a moment lose it again. They resemble Gold rather, or any other Metal hard to be wrought up­on; but withall being tenacious, and a faithful Preserver of whatever you Carve upon it. So they hardly ever let go the Images of things once conceived. They were undoubtedly meant by Aristotle, when [Page 38] he said that the Melancholy are inge­nious and Witty, Ingeniosi Melancho­lici, which is not to be understood of a certain black and terrestrial Me­lancholy, for this is dulness it self, but of that sort which is animated by brisk, lively and vigorous Spirits, and purified by a clear Flame.

4. I doubt it may not be allowed here to make a fourth distinction of Profound, and Superficial Wits: For some have received from above a kind of comprehensive Knowledge of most things. They see in a manner as Angels do the remotest conclusions in their first principles, without any formal consequence. Such Men are not only fit for Humane Society, but to sit at the Helm, and manage the weightiest Affairs of Great Kingdoms and Empires. They are not some­times much admired by the undis­cerning sort, especially in a free and familiar Converse, because they speak little, being naturally more thinking and contriving, than talk­ative, [Page 39] but what they say carries along with it such a Character of good Sence, that you shall instantly discern them to be none of the common sort. Yet as there is nothing in the World Omni ex parte beatum, without a mixture of some imperfection; these Great Men are so taken up sometimes with their own Thoughts, and Designs, that in a familiar con­verse they seem not to talk to the purpose; which gives occasion to the Vulgar, to think that they are really simple. Now these Wits we call Superficial, are not indeed wholly dull, but in the next degree to the dullest sort. You shall not be sensi­ble of their Weakness at their first Complement, their first utterance being commonly senseful enough, Which I have likewise observed in some Fools. But you shall easily dis­cern the heightness of their Brains in a continued discourse; let them but go on, for speak they must, and will shew in a trice their foppish and [Page 40] simple Temper, because they pre­tend commonly to know every thing, though they have but few clear Notions of any thing. They value themselves highly upon the ac­count of a not ordinary Volubility of their Tongues, as being talkative be­yond measure, like most Women, which the less knowing part of Man­kind, take to be a piece of Wit.

1. I Mean not by a Pretender to Wit a meer Fool, but rather one that hath some share in this No­ble Endowment of the Mind. Far less do I understand any of those Learned Societies, that make a pe­culiar profession of promoting real Knowledge: For we must needs confess several of their Mem­bers not to be meer Pretenders to Learning, but eminent Virtu­oso's, [Page 42] and great Wits. I mean then by this somewhat ambiguous Word, all such as foolishly pretend to more Wit than God and Nature have re­ally allowed them. I conceive them to be near a kin to those superficial Wits, we were lately discoursing of, and not very unlike the Nominal Philosophers; because their deepest Knowledge reacheth no farther than to the Etimologies, Derivation, and Nature of Names; upon which account they prefer themselves be­fore Men of more supposed Abili­ties. They are not clear enough sighted to discern what is true Sence, or down right Nonsense in a Dis­course: They are only capable to judge of a polite Expression, of a Word A-la-mode, and other such like Childish niceties. They have, I con­fess, some confused Notions of eve­ry thing, which emboldens them to debate things that are beyond the reaeh of their Capacity. They are the professed Censurers of Mankind, [Page 43] and can speak good of none, them­selves only excepted: I conceive them to be ever without Rest and Repose, yea, and the most miserable of all Men, because most obnoxious, not to be envyed, but to envy others. They are highly offended if you happen to commend any other in their Presence but themselves, or any other Mans Works but their own; if perhaps they have appeared in Publick, wrap't up in a Pamphlet or two. For they make it their whole business to cut deep in the Reputation of those who should, methinks, be a­bove the aspiring, and reach of their Envy. This Man, say they, in a familiar Converse, hath printed such a Book, as you know but containing little Truth in it, they could easily refute the Argu­ments, and Doctrine it offers, if they judged the matter worthy their while; he hath mistaken himself in several material points, and speaks here with little coherency, and there flat untruth, though perhaps they have not so [Page 44] much as seen the Title Page of the Book they talk thus at random of; you shall name no Philosophy, no Poem, no ingenious Piece, that such men have not perused more than once, but you'll do them a piece of service not to question them too much upon any particulars, least you discover their Vanity and Weakness. They are more guilty than the rest of Mankind of that general hatred, that those of one Profession conceive ea­sily one against another: For the common Word is but too true, Figulus figulum odit. They leave no Stone unmov'd to ruine the Repute of such as concur, or share with them in any profitable Employ. I know no People in the World that have less Respect for, and less Knowledge of Antiquity. I have heard some of those Irregular Heads call Aristotle, whom probably they had never read, a meer Fool, only because they had declared themselves Car­thesians. I have always observed [Page 45] this sort of Men to affect extream­ly novelties, but above all new terms and new coin'd Words. Italian Proverbs, Epigrams, Devises, pre­meditated and short Sentences, and sometimes the sharpest both Hebrew, Greek, and Latine Words. 'Tis pleasant to hear some Physitians, especially the greener ones, talking perpetually of Acids and Alcaliis. I dispute not here the Truth of the thing in itself, whether it may be allowed that an acid, as some do think, is the gene­ral cause of all Distempers. But the affections only in speaking of the mat­ter, I justly blame, and look upon it as a mark of little Judgement, and Wit. Who would not laugh to hear a Physitian resolve all his Patients doubts with an Acid and an Al­caly.

2. But nothing shall divert you more, than the familiar use of some conceited Chymists, especially if dis­semblingly admiring them. They [Page 46] will display in a quarter of an hour several great and rare Arcana's, or Secrets, yet without discovering any of them, but only that being taken with the Bait, you may, buy at a high rate, what once known you shall under­value or value but very little. There is no Distemper, but such Physitians will undertake to cure. They speak great things, and promise Wonders, as pretending to do more with a do­zen of drops of some Essence, Oyle, Tincture or Spirit, than the Galenists with a Troop of Simples, and an in­finite variety of loathsome Decocti­ons. They pretend to the great Art of making Gold, and of converting imperfect Metals into perfect. If you understand not their Mysteries, you must submit your Judgement, because you are not perhaps a Ma­ster of the Art, who only is able to comprehend the Frame, and Tex­ture of the Philosophers Stone, of the Alkahest, extraversion, of Mer­cury, &c. I have a great respect for [Page 47] Helmont, that celebrated Chymist, but more upon the Authority of an Eminent Virtuoso of this Nation who esteems him, then by a free de­termination of my own Judgement. For I must beg his pardon, if I say, I conceive, him to speak sometimes like a mad Man, or as if he under­stood, not what he meant: Because as all Men desire naturally to know, Omnis homo naturaliter scire desiderat: so all Men have a desire no less natu­ral and vehement to be known, Om­nis homo naturaliter sciri desiderat; If then we have any important Secret to communicate to the World, the dis­covery whereof may redound to our Honour, and the good of Mankind, I am fully perswaded that no man is so indifferent for the increase of his own Repute, as to publish it immediate­ly, and obscurely, or in such terms, as few or none can comprehend. Thus when Helmont, and other self-conceited Chymists speak so boa­stingly and boisterously of the great [Page 48] Wonders they can do, without dis­covering their Methods, so that they may be understood, I am apt to be­lieve that they have but very confu­sed Idea's, and obscure Notions of those great Arcana's they talk so much of.

3. You shall meet with some other Virtuoso's that pretend not to those high Strains of Wit, but to a certain politeness in their discourse, and Writings; if they meddle sometimes with the Pen. Their chief care is not how to speak sencefully, but how to speak politely, wherein they dis­cover the weakness of their Judge­ment, and the shallowness of their Wit: For men of great Parts are wont to express themselves signifi­cantly, but without any apparent affection of too much Polity. This is the common defect of some young Gentlemen that live upon their Rents in, and about London. They think themselves sufficiently improved by frequenting the Play-House, and tur­ning [Page 49] over Play-Books, which con­tribute more to the tickling of their Imagination, than to the framing their Judgment. I confess, never­theless, they may get some advan­tage by such Lectures, provided they take not so much notice of the Words, and manner of expression, as of the design and management of the intrigue, wherein the grea­test Wit of the piece consists.

Others again make it a part of their business to study the fashionable Art of Complementing: as being ful­ly perswaded, they can give no bet­ter proof of their Sufficiency, than by studyed Complements, which is no­thing else but a piece of French Wit: For 'tis almost become Proverbial among the Vulgar French, c'esi un hom­me d'esprit il fait bien un Complement. Such a one is a Witty Gentleman, be­cause he complementeth well. If the French had no other thing to be proud of but this Complemental mode, the greatest Favour I could [Page 50] do them, would be to reckon them among the Superficial Wits, I have spoken of elsewhere; and I fear all things impartially weighed, they can be hardly allowed any higher Rank. I know they pretend to a certain de­licacy of Wit, which they monopolize to themselves, as if other Nations could not reach it, and which they say is no otherwise accountable for, then that it is, as one of their beaux esprits speaketh, un je ne scay quoy, I know not what. But having lived near Twenty Years among the Learnedst sort of them, I think I may venture to give a clear and distinct notion of What they call delicacy of Wit, that thereby it may appear to be no prerogative of the French, but common enough to all civilized Nations.

4. I have observed then that what they call vn esprit delicat, is chiefly known by a smooth, easie and Na­tural expression, an acurate and ju­dicious comparison, or a senseful [Page 51] Word that may be easily mistaken by a common understanding, or ta­ken in a sense it was not intended for. That this is a near description of a Delicate Wit: I could easily if it were necessary, prove by those very Authors, they allow most of this Character too. I can imagine no other reason why the French mistake themselves so far, as to think that other Nations have little or nothing of this forementioned Delicacy, then because they write Romances, and Love Intrigues, which admit and re­quire this smooth way of writing, more than any of their Neighbours, who generally chosing more solid Subjects, have not so often occasion to give Proofs of their being capable to write delicately. For it would be easie to show this Character in the Authors of all Nations, who have chanc'd to handle Subjects that requi­red it.

I shall add in the last Instance, that those whom we call here Pre­tenders [Page 52] to Wit, are commonly bet­ter Spokes-men, than Writers or Pen-men. They surprize those that have never before convers't with them, with an extempory Eloquence, and an easie Utterance of their Thoughts upon any obvious Subject, by an extraordinary Volubility of their Tongues, besides a vehement incli­nation to be hearkned to in a Pub­lick Conversation, as if they were Oracles; hence it is that they think their repute lessened, if any other in the Company talk more, with grea­ter Authority, or longer than them­selves. But it often happens that those same Men, who seem to the the Vulgar sort, so eloquent in an ex­temporary debate, are at a loss in cold Bloud, and when on occasion, they must recollect themselves to write their own Thoughts. Whereof take this short and rational account: Such men being endow'd with a quick Imagination, which being stirred up in a Debate, furnisheth them with [Page 53] Words enough, and with certain ex­temporary Arguments, fitter to dazle the Vulgar sort, than to perswade a Solid Wit. On the other side, their Intellective Faculty being but weak, and now left to it self, without the help of an unwakened Fancy, gives no more Light.

1. I Take this for no certain sign of Wit to be born under Mer­cury, rather than under Jupiter, Ve­nus or Mars. A Child may prove a witty Man, though in the Critical Minute of his conception or birth, he be not countenanced by the favou­rable Aspect, of any Planet, or Con­stellation; for I am of opinion, that the Influences of Heaven, the vul­gar [Page 55] Heads talk so much of, do not so much affect our Bodies, as the in­conspicuous Effluviums of the Earth, we scarce ever take notice of. Nei­ther do I take it to be a certain mark of Wit, our being born in this Cli­mate rather than in that, in a hot Country rather than in a cold, in the Subpolar Regions, rather than un­der the Equinoctial Line. I cannot but pity and laugh at the simplicity of the Italians, French and Spaniards, who think themselves wittier than the Northern Nations, only because they live in hotter Climats, for at this rate they must acknowledge the Moors, Negroes and Indians far be­yond themselves in Wit, which they will not, I doubt, readily grant. It was in my Judgement no piece of Wit in the famous Du Peron to say of the Jesuite Iretster, that he was ingeni­ous for a German. The occasion of this vulgar Error among Forreigners may be thus rationally accounted for. In the hotter Climats, because the [Page 56] Bodies are weaker, the InhabItants especially, if civiliz'd, are more given to the exercising of the Mind, than of the Body. But the Nor­thern Nations take generally more delight in the exercise of their Bo­dy, than in that of the Mind, as being more allured thereunto by their Natural Courage, good Tem­per, and not ordinary Strength. I see not then what other Influence the coldness of the Air can have up­on us, than to incline us more to the Improvement of the Natural En­dowments of our Bodies, than to the promoting those of our Souls. But in the main here lies the mistake of those self-conceited Forreigners, that seeing perhaps a greater number of Virtuoso's among them, than among us, they conclude very illegally to our disparagement, and to their own advantage, that they have more Wit than we, whereas they can be allow­ed to raise from hence, no other ra­tional Inference, but perhaps this, [Page 57] that they have more Wits, or rather more Writers; for among twenty French, Spanish and Italian, that bu­sie the Press, you shall hardly meet with two, or three that deserve to be stiled Witty. The Inhabitants then of the Northern parts of the World, delighting generally more in Wars, or in Warlike Exploits, than in Writing. No wonder if they trouble not the Press with such a number of useless Books as the hot­ter Climats do: which argues a meer want of Inclination to busie them­selves that way, but not in any innate disposition to write well. For we cannot but know by daily Experience that no People in the World write more wittily than the the Natives of cold Climats, if once they betake themselves to the Muses, which minds me of a Saying of the famous Barklay, a most ingenuous Writer, who speaks with a generous freedom, the known Ill and Good of all Nations, not sparing the Scots, his own Coun­try [Page 58] Men, wherein he thought them defective, or worthy of Reprehen­sion. He hath then, discoursing of their Aptitude for all kind of Lite­rature, these observable Words, Litterae nunquam felicius se habuerunt, quam cum in Scotos inciderunt. I know not how to English this bold Expression. But his meaning, if I mistake it not, was, that the Muses were never happier, than when af­ter all their Travels, they had repai­red unto the Scots; whereby he seems to insinuate that it was not always the Fate of this Nation, no more than of most of the Northern Coun­tries, for the reason above mentio­ned, to have lodged those Honoura­ble, Gentle, profitable Guests, but that when they happened to stay any considerable time among the Scots, they did them as much Ho­nour, if not more than any other People in Europe. Whereof we may instance as sufficient prooffs both Barkleys, Father and Son, the Fa­mous [Page 59] Buchanan the best of Poets since the Primitive Times, their undoubted Countryman, whatever others may pretend to the contrary. Scotus called deservedly in the Schools, Doctor Subtilis, the Subtile Doctor, together with the incomparable Ne­pier, first Inventor of the Logarithmes, and several others. I conceive those with the Generality of the Under­standing sort, to be far beyond any Foreign Writers in the Subject, they handle, whether, French, Spanish, or Italian, but what Barkley saith of the Scots, may likewise be said of the Danes, Germans and Hollanders. Ty­cobrache is a Star of the first Magni­tude, Kepler, Greiier, Clavius, No­stradamus, are matchless. But I think without the offence of any other Nation, we may apply more parti­cularly this Sentence to the English, Literae, nunquam se felicius habue­runt, quam cum in Anglos inciderunt ▪ For the World is obliged to them for the best and newest discoveries i [...] [Page 60] Natural Philosophy, Physick and A­natomy. But the pitty is they write so much in their own Tongue, that the less knowing sort of Forraigners abroad, ask sometimes if there be any Learned Men in England, be­cause, some Eminent Phisitians excep­ted, few or none of them write in Latine, the Universal Language. There are several Excellent English Books that would prove a great in­crease of the publick good, and the Honour of this Nation, if they were translated into Latine by an accurate Polite Pen. Of this number I reck­on the Works of most Divines, and whatever the deservedly renowned Boyle has hitherto published, the Whole Duty of Man, and the Discour­ses of the Reverend Dr. Tillotson, &c.

2. I shall say nothing of another incomparable advantage, that Eng­land has above most Nations of Eu­rope. I mean that Learned and Roy­al Society, instituted for the promo­ting of Real Knowledge, and the [Page 61] general Good of Mankind. This is one of those Infinite Blessings this Nation received by his late Majesties happy Restauration, who was the Head and first of this Assembly, not only because of his Royal Preroga­tive and independency, but likewise upon the account of his Princely Wit and Wisdom, being not only in the opinion of all Europe, a most wise Prince, but in the Esteem of all such as have the Honour to approach his Sacred Person, a most compleat Gentleman. Likewise His Royal Brother, our present King, be­sides his Princely Virtues, which, as all the World knows, he possesseth in a most High Degree, is likewise deservedly esteemed in other particu­lar respects. 'Twas observed at Edin­burgh, that none gave a more ratio­nal account, than his Majesty of that wonderful Shower of Her­rings, that happened at the South of Scotland. For whereas the most part had recourse to a certain Pan­spermia [Page 62] or universal seed of every thing, spread every where, which other necessary conditions concur­ring together, might be improved into a living Creature; his Ma­jesty solv'd more rationally this Phaenomenon by certain Spouts of Water that happen sometimes at Sea, wherein the small Herring being easily, with the Help of a Whirlwind, tossed up into the Air, and carryed off in a thick Cloud, fell down again not far from the Shoar. As to the other Members of this Royal Socie­ty, I think I do them no wrong, if I say that the famous Boyle is the Chief Pillar thereof: For his Name carries with it such a weight of Au­thority in Forraign Countries, that I have heard some Eminent Men say, that whatever he positively affirms in his Books is sure and evident. Out of all this discourse, we may raise to our pur­pose this self-evident Inference, that Coelum atticum is no more an infallible Cause or Sign of Wit than Caelum Ar­ticum, [Page 63] I mean that Wit is of all Na­tions, though not perhaps of all A­ges, since some have bin extreamly dull, as the Tenth for Instance, and some likewise both fore and after Ages.

3. Yea I think it no Paradox to say that the cold Climats are the fit­test Soils for the producing of great Wits. I conceive but two things ne­cessary for the existency of what ge­nerally we understand by a great Wit, first, a Soul of the first, or at least none of the lowest Hierarchy, I mean one of a not ordinary perfe­ction, whereof I have discours'd at large in the Second Section. Second­ly. A well temper'd Body furnished, besides the necessary Organs, with a great quantity of brisk and lively Spirits. As to the former point, I hope you will grant that 'tis in the Power of the Almighty to create most perfect Souls in cold Climats as well as in hot. Hence then you can pretend no advantage. And for the latter 'tis evident, that [Page 64] that the Bodies in cold Climats are better tempered, of a firmer Tex­ture, and fuller of brisk and lively Spirits, than those of hotter Coun­tries, where men are commonly lan­guishing, faint and exhausted by a sensible dissipation of those few Spi­rits they live and move by. They are then little acquainted with the World, who affirm the purest Air to be the only Element for the sub­tilest Wits; since we know by expe­rience, and 'tis generally confessed by all Forraigners, that the Scotch and the Irish, who breath in no very thin Air, are far subtiler disputants in Di­vinity, Logick, and such like Scho­lastick, and Airy matters, than either the Italians or the French. I would then have Men to cease from gazing upon the Stars, and not look upon the Celestial Influences, as the only cau­ses of those various Characters of Wit, we observe in the World; for there may be some more hidden Sources of acuteness, and less refle­cted [Page 65] on: Such I take to be the invisible Effluviums of the Earth: For as the Famous Boyle acutely proves, 'tis most probable that they are the unheaded Causes of many Epidemi­cal Distempers, so I think it no less conformable to reason, to say that they occasion likewise the good tem­per of the mind, by contributing not a little towards the Health of the Body; for since 'tis most certain by daily experience, that the Inha­bitants of this Northern part of the World, to whatever they apply themselves entirely, become at length most eminent therein, and do far exceed the rest of Mankind, espceial­ly in Learning, Courage, and all o­ther Warlike Exploits, we must needs confess there may be Corpuscles issu­ing out from the coldest Soil, that mixing themselves thorow the Pores of the Body with the bloud, give it such a Texture, as is requisite to make it a fit Instrument for the most Spiritual Functions of the Souls. I [Page 66] am so far from beleiving the vulgar Error, or rather the vain conceit of some ancient Romans, that those who are born in, or near the cold Zones, have few or none of those natural Gifts that make a true Virtuoso; I am so far, I say, from beleiving such a gross and vulgar Error, that I hold such to be the fittest men in the World for penetrating Airy, and Subtile things, and for doing great ones, if they will be but at the pains, when occasion serves to improve their Na­tural Talents. For besides what I have said, are not we beholden to the Northern Nations for the No­blest and best pieces of Art and Wit, I mean those various and ingenious Engins, relating to shipping, lifting, weighing, &c. invented for the Use and Conveniency of Mankind. The Gunpowder, the Guns, and most of the Mathematical Instruments, espe­cially Microscops, Telescops, and Megalescops are the Fruits of their Industry. And either the Germans [Page 67] invented the Art and Mystery of Printing, or the Chineses, who live not in a very hot Country. The Japans live almost as far from the Equinoctial Line as we do, and yet are accounted inferiour to no Nati­on in the World as to Wit, sharp­ness, and Penetrancy of Judge­ment.

1. I Know not well what was his Opinion of Physiognomy, who said that Frons, oculi, vultus, persaepe mentiuntur, Oratio vero saepissime. The Forehead, the Eyes, the Face do [Page 69] do often impose upon us, but oftner yet the Tongue. Nevertheless I conceive clearly by this Expression that he thought it not a vain and quite groundless Science, else he had not made use of this double Restriction, persaepe saepissime. If then we fail sometimes, when we judge of Mens inward Temper by their Physiogno­my, or conspicuous Features of their Bodies, we must acknowledge inge­nuously our want of Skill, and in­sight in the matter. For since the Vi­sible things do manifest the Invisible, there are no doubt some visible Cha­racters of our Inside, writen by the Hand of God in our outward shape. But as every one cannot read Books, and falress yet Men, those Characters, how conspicuous soever to some, and easie to deeypher, ly hidden, and are untelligible misteries to others. Yet as we ma [...] discover Foris, his Satellites, or Jupiters Waiters thorow a good Prospect or Teloscop, tho' not with our naked Eye, so by the [Page 70] help of this curious Art, a vulgar un­derstanding may, to his great satis­faction, see things, he could never before either observe or understand. Though I pretend not to any extra­ordinary Skill in this present Subject, yet I may be allowed to set down here some of my own observations, grounded upon Reason and Experi­ence. Because Physiognomy can no more pretend to any demon­stration, than Judiciary Astrology; what I shall say must be look't upon at the most, as probable conjectures, and not as certain and positive deci­sions, which you may follow as in­fallible Rules, to judge of those you converse, or consider. To proceed then with some order and Method, I conceive the whole Object of this curious Science to be compre­hended in these four Words, Frons, Oculi, Vultus, Oratio. By the first as a Physiognomist, I understand not only the Forehead, but all the neighbouring parts backwards, as [Page 71] the Hair, the Ears, the Hinder part of the Head, or the Nape of the Neck. By the second, Oculi, I mean what it literally sounds, though we may allow a larger Signification to the Word Vultus, and understand there­by not only the whole Frame and Conformation of the Face, but also that of the whole Body. Oratio is not to be taken so much by the Physiognomist, for the discourse it self; as for the adjuncts thereof, as sound stammering Precipitation, &c. I shall then, without loosing the due respects I owe to the Author of the forementioned Sentence, invert it thus to my present design, in lieu of saying Frons, Oculi, vultus, per saepe mentiuuiur Oratio vero saepissime, I do affirm and maintain that, Frons Oculi vultus verum persaepe loquuntur, Oratio vero saepissime. The Front, the Eyes, the Face, speak often the Truth, and discover really what we are, but the Tongue as yet more fre­quently.

[Page 72]2. To begin with the Fore-part and Highest of the Face or Forehead We may consider its Breadth, it Length, its Prominency or Height▪ I take the length thereof, from the distance between the two Temples the Breadth from the Root of th [...] Nose upwards to the Coronal Suture I say then a Forehead both broad long, and somewhat prominent, o [...] not quite flat, is a more than ordi­nary mark of a solid Judgement, and a sharp Wit. Because those Dimen­sions cannot be thus enlarged, but by a most perfect Soul, and able to ex­tend thus the Matter it informs, o [...] which is all alike for my intent, by [...] great number of Animal Spirits, who being brisk, active and lively, make room for themselves. I said Promi­nent, or not flat: For though flat­ness of the Forehead, provided other necessary conditions be not wanting may be often consistent with under­standing and Capacity, yet it shew­eth some natural deficiency either i [...] [Page 73] the Soul or in the Spirits, that could not thrust forward their Work. But I know no greater disadvan­tage, or more ominous of this part we are speaking of, than its nar­rowness, or straitness, whether we take the narrowness thereof from the Root of the Nose upwards, or from the Right Temple to the Left; for this is but a too visible mark of a very imperfect Soul, and of an ex­traordinary want of Spirits: And those few that such puny Heads do lodge, are withal Dormant in a man­ner, and cannot for want of Room either dilate themselves, or give any Light. This you shall believe the more probable, if you take par­ticular notice of those that are na­turally Fools, and silly. For you shall scarce meet with one of them that wants this mark of his In­firmity. What I have said of the Forehead, may be likewise under­stood of the whole Head: The Bulk whereof, generally speaking, if pro­portionable [Page 74] to the Body is no ill mark, and I take the contrary to be a vulgar Error, confuted by daily Experience, and the aforesaid rea­sons. And if one contrary may dis­cover another, I remember to have seen at Amsterdam, in the House near the Temple, wherein the natural Fools are kept, to the number of three or four, whose Heads did not surpass in Bulk an ordinary mans Fist. Now if Nature hath so propor­tionably enlarged a Mans Head, as if it had intended to make two of of one, by giving him a Forehead qualified in the aforesaid manner, and likewise a high and bulky hinder part, you shall hardly fail, if you say, that such a one is not of an ordinary Wit and Capacity. But that you mistake nothing here, I take the hinder part of the Head to be high or bulky, when it it is not cut in a manner even down, but over-reacheth the hollow of the Neck. For the Perpendicular descent of the Head, so that the [Page 75] hinder part and the Neck be upon the same Perpendicular Line, is cal­led 'pleasantly' by the French, Le coup de hach, the Axe-strock, and is gene­rally thought a scarce ever failing sign of a mean Wit: Because I fancy the hinder part of the Head is the Magazine of the Soul, where the Species and Images of things are con­served. This may be the reason why being desirous to recover the memory of a forgotten thing, we turn naturally our hand back thither, as if we intended to awaken our Memorative Spirits. For I doubt not but the Memory is a great help, and Promoter too of Sharpness, Judgement and Knowledge, because it represents faithfully to us all such Circumstances as are necessary for the right framing of our Reflections. It then Nature hath deprived us of this back Room, we may neverthe­less have, perhaps, some no incon­siderable Talents, but none in a ve­ry high degree.

[Page 76]3. As for the Hair, four things may be considered concerning them. 1. Their lying flat on the Head. 2ly. Their curling. 3ly. Their quantity. 4ly. their Colour. The First signifies Dulness, if they be not somewhat curled at the ends, because this shew­eth a want of Heat. The Second some greater sharpness, because it suppo­seth some more heat. The Third, if very considerable, and accompany­ed with thickness, is a sign of too ma­ny Excrementitious Parts, and of a too material Substance of the Brains. Of the Fourth for Methods sake, I shall distinguish but three sorts, the black and the fair Colour, as two extreams, the Chesnut Colour, as a middle between them both. The Fair is a surer mark of Wit, Judgement, and good Sence, than the Black, be­cause 'tis originally occasioned by the movement of brisker, clearer, and more lively Spirits. Whereas the Black, I mean the deepest sort, may sometimes import a Melancholy, hea­vy [Page 77] and dull Temper, as being of an exceeding Compact and close Tex­ture, yet 'tis often produced by the motion of more active Spirits, but which are tempered with Ter­restial ones. And when this happens 'tis no ill Omen: But the Cheasenut Colour is to be preferr'd before the other two, as proceeding not from the Action of meer Terre­strial, or of meer airy Corpuscles but from a just mixture of both.

4. I had almost forgot the Ears, whereof the Bulk only is considera­ble in relation to Physiognomy, be­cause if they be respectively too great, or not proportionable to the Head, they are reckoned common­ly to be a sign of dulness. The rea­son of the Vulgar is, because such People resemble long Ear'd Asses. But 'tis more rational to say, that this is occasioned by the weakness of an Imperfect Soul, who made one part proportionably larger than the other. Because though it aimed indeed, [Page 78] as all things do by the impulse of Na­ture, at the most perfect, yet it could not reach it, as being none of the Highest, or of the first Hierarchy of Souls. But to turn about now from the Ears to the Eyes; they are not only windows through which the Soul looketh out to us, but through which likewise we look into it, and by their Light discover easily its real perfections, and abilities. I know but three things in them worthy a Phy­siognomist's Observation, their Big­ness, their Situation, their Colour. The black eye represents to us a ju­dicious Soul, but none of the shar­pest, because of the too compact Na­ture of the Instruments it makes use of, I mean of the Spirits. The blew grayish is more common, and if some other Conditions be not wanting, may be a good proof of acuteness and soli­dity, because of a proportionable mixture of massie and airy Corpus­cles, subservient to the Functi­ons of the Mind. The largeness is an [Page 79] equivocal Sign, either of Dulness, or Wit, because the great eyes are not commonly sparkling like the Stars in the Firmament, but of a sixt Light, like that of most Planets. The little Eyes then, or of no excessive size, but quick, and constantly sparkling, are reputed to be infallible marks of Sharpness and Wit, because of the brightness, agility, and liveliness of the Spirits they move and shine by. The Situation of the Eye makes but little to our purpose. Yet may not we be allowed to say that the deep eye sheweth as much weakness in the Soul, as vigour in the Sight, or Visi­on it self; and on the other side, that the prominent Eye, which the French call a fleur de peau, may discover its good Temper and Strength. I ex­plain my self thus. Because of the weakness of our visive Faculty, we apply a Tellescop or Prospect close to our Eye, whereas if it were stron­ger and more vigorous, we could see the Objects through the Prospect re­moved, [Page 80] and at some distance from our Eye. Consider then the deep or hollow. Eye, as a Prospect joyning more closely in a manner to the Soul, and the Prominent somewhat more distant; and you shall instantly un­derstand why I take the Prominency of the Eye for a mark of greater vi­gour in the Soul, as likewise wherefore I affirm the contrary of a deep Eye; which supplyeth, in some manner, this imperfection of the Soul; be­cause gathering closely together the visual Beams, it represents to us the Objects at a greater distance, but not so well those, or not at all, that ly at our sides, unless we turn about to them. I know this comparison is lame in some respects, but Omnis com­paratio claudicat, you know else it would change its Nature.

5. As for the other part of the ob­ject of Physiognomy, which the La­tines call Vultus, Visage or Face, and whereby here I understand not only the conformation of the Face, but [Page 81] of the whole Body; I shall only say if we take it by the first Byass, we shall find nothing observable in it but the Colour and the Shape. The Face somewhat inclining to a natural and habitual pale, doo [...] in our Cly­mate promise most; because the Spi­rits seem to be always refining with­in by serious thoughts, attentive spe­culations, or ingenious contrivances. The fair Complection likewise, be­cause of the clearness of their Spi­rits, shews a well disposed Soul, but not always very much acuteness. As to the shape, more length than breadth is to be most commended; for such commonly have the hinder part of the Head very large, which, as we said lately, is a good mark.

Now if we take the word vultus precisely for mans out-side, or out­ward appearance, we may consi­der two things, his Stature, and the accidents thereof. As to the first, the tallest men generally speaking, are not always the Wittiest: because in [Page 82] such, as in High Houses, the upper­most Room is commonly the worst furnished, their Spirits being too much dispersed to produce any considera­ble Effect. The middle size, for the functions of the Mind, as well as for those of the Body, is the most ad­vantagious. I shall say nothing of the adjuncts of the Body, save that 'tis observable that the crooked, lame and blind, are ordinarily possessed of not ordinary endowments of the mind, whereof I can give no other rational account, than by saying that this hap­pens through a peculiar disposition of an universal providence supplying thus abundantly the defects of the Bo­dy, by imparting to the Nobler part, the Soul, a peculiar perfection, and Beauty. Out of all this we may con­clude not without a a show of proba­bility, that, Frons, oculi, vultus, verum persaepe loquuntur, Oratio vero saepissime: The Front, the Eyes, the Face speak often Truth, and discover what re­ally we are, but our Tongue yet [Page 83] more frequently layeth us open to the understanding sort, and per­chance more certainly too, especial­ly if we take it for the very sub­stance of the things we say, for then by the coherency, or incoherency of our discourse, we betray our selves either to be Fools or wise, dull or Witty. But as a Physiognomist pre­cisely, I mean here the out-side only, if I may so speak, and the accidents of our Speech, as the Sound, Precipitati­on, Stammering, Duration, &c. As to the Sound: To speak High and boisterously without any rational oc­casion, is a surer mark of a sharp voice than of a sharp Wit. Precipitation proceeds sometimes, I confess from a too quick apprehension, that con­ceives more things than the Tongue can well utter in a short time; but more often 'tis occasion'd by the con­fused Idea's of the Soul. By the du­ration of our discourse, I mean that excessive one, whereby we become insufferable to those we converse, [Page 84] as being talkative beyond measure, whick I take to be no sign either of Wit or judgement, unless we admit that the talkative sort are the witti­est, and most judicious, which no man of Sence will ever grant, as be­ing sufficiently confuted by obvious reason, and daily experience: For as, Loquaciores avium quae minores, the smal­lest Birds, for Instance, the Sparrows, Nightingales, &c. make more noise than the greater ones do; as the Ea­gle, the Swan, &c. So those petits esprits, shallow Wits, and superficial Understandings are commonly more talkative than the Judicious, and most thinking sort of Mankind.

1 TIs a common saying, Scientia Inflat; but I doubt if it be [Page 86] not likewise a vulgar Error: For I am so far from believing that true Knowledge does puff up a Man, and swell him with Pride, that I can con­ceive nothing fitter to make us truly humble without either Hypocrisie or Dissimulation. 'Tis easie to conje­cture upon what grounds I run thus contrary to the Stream, and the ge­neral Opinion of most men, because methinks 'tis evident that the chief Source of true Humility, & Humiliati­on too, is a perfect knowledge of our own Weakness and Imperfections, of our Incapacity, and little Insight in most things, which I take to be pro­per to those only, who are the most knowing sort of Mankind. I look upon such as true Scepticks in this Sense, That whatever is not laid open to their Eyes, either by the Light of an undeniable demonstration, or by some sort of self-evidence, they just­ly doubt of. Because they under­stand perfectly the difficulties on both sides, which holding their Judgement [Page 87] in aequilibrio, equally in the middle, and in suspence, hinder them from joyning closely with either of the ex­treams. Hence it appears that as the greatest Wits have most Doubts, so the Dullish are commonly those that doubt almost of nothing. I speak not here in matters of Faith, for as Christians, we are meer Believers, not Phylosophers, but of Nature and Natural things, of the World, and what it contains, or whatever is within us, or without us: whereof we have so little Knowledge, that the self-evident principles excepted, we know nothing evidently, or at least by demonstration. We know in­deed certainly that we are, as having some sensible Foundation both in Es­sence and Existency, That there is in us a certain internal principle, whereby we move, subsist, and under­stand, which we call the Soul. But how it performs all these things, what it is, whether Spiritual or Cor­poral we know not: I believe my [Page 88] Soul to be both Immortal and Spiri­tual. And I have read several Trea­tises pretending to a clear demon­stration of its Spiritual Nature, which I cou'd never yet see, nor any Im­partial judge, I am afraid, shall ever be sensible of, because we can have no certitude from the light of Reason that she hath either being, or opera­tion, not depending upon matter, or some Material Phantasma; and what in the other Life shall be her way of acting, we shall not know so long as we remain in this. I am not altogether unacquainted with the chief Prerogatives of our Souls, which are to conceeive, and frame general Notions, to prescind, or ra­ther divide by her sharp Edge the matter, into various parts severally intellegible, to raise Influences from the general to the particular, and from the particular, though more Illegally to the general, to remem­ber things past, envisage the present, and frame not unlikely conjectures of [Page 89] what is to come. But all this amoun­ting to no more than to some de­grees of probability, offers nothing like a demonstration of the Spiritu­ality of our Souls. For I conceive no reason why God, who made all things of nothing, may not likewise make what he pleaseth of some­thing. Where is there then any con­tradiction, if we say that God, who created the Matter of nothing, may change the same into a being capable to do, and in a more perfect man­ner to whatever our Soul performs. For I conceive it to be but a meer prejudice, and not reason that leads us to say, that whatever thinks, or reasons, is of a Spiritual Nature. 'Tis observable then, whensoever we pre­tend to reveal by demonstration such hidden Mysteries, we always suppose what in first Instance we should prove, I mean that God is nei­ther so powerful to elevate the mat­ter to what he pleaseth, nor so skilful as to change it into a form capable [Page 90] of most perfect operations, or at least of those that we allow to our Souls supposed to be Spiritual. But if we understand not the nature of ou [...] Souls, we can conceive almost a [...] little of the Fabrick of our Bodies Here we are Admirers, and not Phi­losophers, since we can give but a very imperfect, and a scarce rationa [...] account of what we behold in our selves, and know not neither how we live, how we grow, how we move, nor from what part of the Bo­dy the Bloud begins to circulate, or in what part of the eye the visi­on is made, or whether the Child breath's in the Womb or not, &c. In one word, the whol [...] Texture of our Body is such a piece of wonde [...] to the understanding sort, that i [...] seems to some to be no less beyond the reach of our capacity, than the very Nature of a meer Spi­rit.

2. I do firmly believe what all true Christians believe; but this fun­damental [Page 91] article of all Religon, that there is a God, though I were no Christian, I could prove to my self, and perhaps to others too, by a con­vincing demonstration: Yet such is the weakness, or rather the darkness of Humane Understanding, that the clearest demonstrations of this im­portant Truth are refuted by some one or other, whose obstinacy they cannot conquer. And Vasques, if I misremember not, a subtile Romish Divine, after a large confutation of whatever had been said before his time, in order to prove the Ex­istency of a Soveraign being, admits at length but a meer moral demon­stration of this Fundamental point, though so evident indeed, that it cuts away all pretence, and excuses to infidelity. As to the other mysteries, for Instance the Trinity, and Gods contingent degrees, which our rea­son reacheth not; 'tis a piece of madness and folly for us to endeavour their discovery by the [Page 92] light of reason. Yet they may be in­culcated to the People, though infi­nitely above their comprehensive fa­culty, as being Articles of meer Be­lief, and not at all within the reach of humane Understanding. I could not but smile to hear a certain Mini­ster once preach on this Subject, be­cause he very confidently assured his Auditory, that he would prove the existence of the Trinity with no less evidence than the subtilest Philoso­pher could demonstrate the being o [...] God in Nature, and his Unity. How far he performed this, 'tis neither worth your while to hear, nor mine to relate. I shall only say, that he shewed himself all along a very ill Philosopher, and a worse Divine.

3. But what wonder if men are so short sighted in things so far above the reach of their Capacity, since they know not the Nature and Na­tural properties of the most familiar and obvious Objects. I do in vain make my Application either to the [Page 93] Old or New Philosophy for the in­telligence of the most common things. I am for Instance as little sa­tisfied, when I am told, that what­ever I see under so many different figures, shapes and sizes, is only oc­casioned by a various Texture and co­alition of Corpuscles, I am, I say, as little satisfied with this, as with Aristotle's matter and form united to­gether, I know not how: For to say a thing belongs to this or that Species or kind, because it hath a certain texture that we can give no further account of, is a Notion almost as ob­scure unto my dim Understanding, as if you had instanced for Answer, A matter informed by a certain specifical form. On each side you see by the very word certain we insinuate e­nough our doubtfulness and un­certainty of the thing. What more known than the History of the eb­bing and flowing of the Sea: The dullest Mariner can give you a satis­factory relation thereof; but you [Page 94] may expect in vain a rational account of the same from the ablest Phylo­sopher. To attribute with the grea­test number of Philosophers this wonderful Phaenomenon to the Stars, or more particularly to the Moon, is but an ingenuous confession of their ignorance, and despair of a bet­ter answer. For it being certain that when the Moon is in the upper Quadrant of our Meridian, the Wa­ters are not only swelled here, but likewise in the opposite part of the Earth towards our Antipodes; I can­not conceive how the Moon pierceth through such a thick and massie Bo­dy as the Earth, so as to heighten the Waters beneath. I'm sure she acts not at such a distance, either by heat or by light, for her heat is not strong, and her light is but very weak, and neither of them can penetrate above ten foot within the superficies of the Earth. Her occult and secret Influ­ences, I neither understand, nor look upon as an answer capable to satisfie [Page 95] a curious enquirer. The movement of the Earth, by which some en­deavour to give an account of this regular movement, we observe in the Seas, besides the uncertainty of this principle contributes but little or no­thing towards the solution of this in­superable difficulty; and Maurus, his Angel moving thus orderly this great and vast Body, is but a guess, and at most but an ill grounded Opinion.

4. If we come now ashoar, and travel over the habitable Tracts of the Continent, what an infinite num­ber of obvious, but most hidden Mysteries shall we discover every where. I shall offer but two at pre­sent to your consideration, the Load­stone, and Quicksilver, or Mercury. The former is an unpolish'd piece of Work, and looks like an excremen­titious part of Nature: But Who can give us a tolerable account of its at­tractive faculty, why it draws, and holds closely Iron, rather than any other Metal; why it thrusts from it [Page 96] the Needle with one Pole, and at­tracts it again with the other; and why it declines more or less, or no at all in several parts of the World &c. Philosophers are commendable for doing their utmost endeavours and squeezing their brains to answe [...] such difficulties; but I fear after al [...] their Sweats, and laborious Specu­lations, they shall never satisfie either themselves on this subject, or others Mercury is clearer indeed to the Ey [...] than the Loadstone, but as obscur [...] if not more, to our darkned Un­derstanding. 'Tis the very riddle of Nature, Aenigma naturae, 'tis a Mon­ster compounded of meer contrarie­ties, as being round and sharp, cold, and in the opinion of some hot too light and heavy, moist and dry, cor­ruptible and incorruptible, alway [...] the same, and yet most changeable, invisible, and by an easie recovery of it self visible again: I ever admired above all this, its compactness and close texture; for it admits not the [Page 97] Subtilest Air, and giving no access to the points of Fire, it flyeth from be­fore it.

5. But I need not have recourse to the confest Prodigies of Nature, to show how far we are from understan­ding any thing to the bottom. The very Sciences themselves are not such to us, if narrowly look't into. I have reason to examine the Truth of Eu­clides demonstrations, since I see the Impossibility of a common Segment, as they speak, demonstrated to my Weak Judgement by Proclus, and again contradicted with no less evi­dence by other able Mathematicians. To say nothing of the duplication of the Cub, the Squaring of the Circle, and other Gordian lenots of this Nature; I doubted always of the very Foundation of Geometry, I mean of the true Notion of a point. For when I hear this stranger de­scription, Punctum est cujus pars nullae est, I begin to wonder what that can be, that though not a Spirit, has no [Page 98] Imaginable parts: and then conclu­ding there's no such thing in being. I take the true Object of Geometry as a Line that is made of Points, and a Superficies compounded of Lines, to have no other Foundation in Essence or Existency, but my own Conceit and Fancy. I am moreover so little satisfied with the groundless grounds, and Principles of judiciary Astrology, that I fancy it the most vain, and most uncertain of all Sci­ences, and those that admire it to be none of the judicious sort. I confess, the Heavens are great Volumes, wherein we may read the wonderful effects of Gods infinite Power and Wisdom; but you shall see no Cha­racters there that express the Con­tingency of things to come, and the occasional determinations of our free Wills. For what connexion can any rational man imagine between the Aspects of the Stars, and a Childs being one day either a King or an Emperour, or to dye such a [Page 99] death. We know neither the Na­ture, Properties, nor Influences of the Celestial Bodies; how can then a man, not a meer Fool, presume to determine their contingent Effects. Astronomy indeed is somewhat bet­ter grounded. But how many things are we yet here ignorant of, the quantity of the natural year shall never be exactly determined, because we can never know the critical Mi­nute of the Suns first step backward from one Tropick towards the other. The new Kalender is not as yet perfect, and may one day stand in need to be corrected a second time: We can give but a very uncertain account of the Nature of Comets, and debate often about their hight, periods, movement and bulk; whether the light of the fixed Stars be innate, or only borrowed from the Sun, we are not as yet certain. We do but guess at their real distance from us and among themselves. We speak rashly, and perhaps, upon not very [Page 100] good grounds, of their wonder­ful Rapidity and Swiftness. I shall say nothing of an infinite number of other things, that we can give no rational account of, as for In­stance, of Antipathy, Sympathy, Poisons, and of that sort of Re­medies, we call Specificks. If I chance to meet with two men I never saw before, I find my self more inclin'd to serve the one than the other, but why, I am to seek. As soon as the Lamb cometh into the World, it flyeth from before the Woolf, as from a known Enemy: Now by what kind of Impulse or Impression, it be­haves it self so rationally, I shall wil­lingly learn from any of the Modern, or Antient Philosophers. The strange effects of Poysons are but too well known, whereof some are quick, some are slow, some cold, and others hot. But they all agree in this, that they destroy at length the structure of our Bodies. I remember to have been present at the overture [Page 101] of a Lady, that had certainly been poyson'd, which nevertheless we could not affirm by any visible Im­pressions made upon her inward Parts, the alteration made by this subtile Poyson being quite insensible. I am of opinion that in this Life we shall never reach to a perfect know­ledge of such odd pieces of Won­der. Let us then acknowledge that there is no true Philosophy in the World but Sceptisism; not that I take Scepticks here for men that doubt of every thing, yea, and of their own Existency too, for 'tis, perhaps, a vulgar Error to believe that there were ever any such in the World, and withall not meer Fools: I mean then by Scepticks those that are come to such a pitch of Knowledge, as to doubt rationally of every disputa­ble matter, because seeing nothing under one light only, and looking narrowly into the reasons of both sides, they discover but some few, or [Page 102] more degrees of probability without the very Twilight of Evidence.

1. I Doubt, if I may not say of great Wits, what Cicero says some­where of great Orators, that scarce one was seen in an Age: For as Aristotle [Page 103] calls little men comely, but not beau­tiful, so likewise I take the most part of those that the World ad­mires most, to be but jolly Wits, des esprits jolly, as not throughly deser­ving, because of some considerable deficiency, a more honourable Title, or rather not filling in all sense what is in rigour meant by a great Wit: For I conceive none to be such, who has received but one Ta­lent, though in a just measure: Thus a man may be an excellent Poet, a skilful Astronomer, a good Geoma­trician, a subtile Logician, and yet unfit for all other Sciences; such an one then can be reckoned but a­mong the jolly Wits, and that is Ho­nour enough for him. I do far less judge those to be great Wits, who understand nothing, but what is be­yond common Sense and Understan­ding, as these Metaphysical Whym­sies, abstracted Idea's, and Airy Notions, that fill the empty heads of some speculative Virtuoso's. Nei­ther [Page 104] could I ever have a great Opi­nion of such, as preferring them­seves before the rest of the World, condemn whatever flows not from their own Pen, or whatever is be­yond the reach of their short Capa­city. For this is no more than what the duller sort are equally capable of. I am likewise somewhat out of conceit with most of our Modern Philosophers, who will have none to be really Witty and Ingenious, but such as understand perfectly Mecha­nism, or the Texture and Structure of things, or how to knit, weave and knead one Corpuscle with ano­ther. For at this rate Apothecaries, Smiths and Bakers, and the rest of the Mechanical Tribe, are to be ac­counted true Philosophers. Yet I ever conceived Philosophy to be something beyond the reach of this common sort, and would be very loath to become either a Smith or a Baker, in order to gain the Honou­rable Name of a true Philosopher. [Page 105] I have a great respect, and I am for­ced to it by the very name, for what we call in England Divines, yet I look not upon them as great Wits, because if they be good Chri­stians, they must renounce the use of their Wit, and believe the most inconceivable Mysteries of Religion upon no better ground, than the Simplest sort, that is upon the surest of all, the Authority of a Divine, tho' obscure Revelation. I conceive then to be short, no other Notion of a great Wit, than what Sceptisism af­fords me: Not that I mean a man that doubts of every thing, but ra­ther one that can show demonstra­tively the incertitude of all disputable matters, those of Faith, with which we meddle not, laid aside. The doubts of such men are not meer Negative ones, for those are ground­less, but rational, positive, and grounded upon such reasons as may demonstrate our little Capaci­ty, and Insight into most disputa­ble [Page 106] things. So as the greatest Wit of Angels, consists in knowing; the great­est Wit in Men consists in doubting: whoever than after a due considera­tion of any difficulty in what Sub­ject soever seeth the Pro and the Con, or whatever may be find for main­taining either part of the contra­diction so clearly, that he is forced to ballance his understanding in the middle by an almost equal Weight of counterpoizing Reasons: This Man I say, and no other may assume to himself without Usurpation, the Name of a great Wit: You shall easily know him either by his dis­course, or by his Writings. He is not of the Humour of certain Dog­matical Heads, who because they see things but under one light, undertake boldly to determine the greatest diffi­culties at the very first hearing of them. But the Man we are speak­ing of being wary and cautious, re­quires time to consult with himself about the matter, before he ventures [Page 107] to give a positive answer, which some­times occasions the less understan­ding sort to take him to be none of the sharpest; and when he is come to a resolution upon the case propo­sed, his Decisions are so moderate, so prudent, and so far from being too daring and bold, that they scarce ever amount to more than to the determination of some degrees of probability, if the thing be real­ly doubtful. I have always admir'd this Character in the Honourable Ro­bert Boyle: 'Tis to be met with every where in his Writings, and is obser­vable likewise in his discourse, if he be required an answer to any con­siderable difficulty. Yet if it chance that some Eminent Virtuosi express themselves sometimes in doubtful matters, as if they judged them evi­dent, this is not to be wondred at, because as some Men cannot express well their Thoughts, others have such an easie utterance, that through the Heat of dispute, or quickness of [Page 108] [...]magination, they do often make use of Words signifying more, than really they intend. But generally speaking when you hear a man say, he can give an evident account for instance of the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, of the fits of the Ague, of the attractive faculty in the Load-stone, of the nature of Poisons, and Specificks whether exteriour or inte­riour, of the Origine of the Winds, of the solution of Gold by Aqua Re­gia, and not by Aqua fortis, of the solution of Silver by Aqua fortis, and not by Aqua Regia, and a thousand other abstruse difficulties of that na­ture; you may be sure that his in­sufficiency is nothing inferiour to his vanity and presumption. I fall much short upon this account of the great Esteem some have for Discartes, be­cause he pretends too much to evi­dent Truths, and will have us before we are fit for his Philosophy, to make our Understanding Tabulamra­sam, as a smooth board, capable of [Page 109] any Character by scraping out of it the Pictures of all things it was fraught with from our greener years, as if none had ever spoken Truth but himself, or as if our intellective fa­culty being thus naked, was not e­qually disposed to be wrought upon by error, as well as by Truth. Some of his Followers betray themselves to be but half witted, when they de­ny a thing, because Aristotle, whom they are not acquainted with, affir­med it, and pretended it to be an evident Truth, because forsooth Dis­cartes held it.

2. To do both these Philosophers right, though with the learnedst part of the World, I apprehend Aristotle to be far beyond Discartes, as to sharpness, depth, and penetrancy of Wit: They have spoken both many things to the purpose, and probable enough, and many others likewise with a greater appearance of false­hood than Truth. The main difference I find between them both only con­sists [Page 110] in this, that Aristotle undertook to debate and discuss matters beyond the reach of Humane Capacity. Such I reckon to be the Infinite, whether in number, or matter, the Divisibili­ty and Composition both of the fluent and permanent continuum. Discartes speaketh of Matter and Motion, and things indeed less subtile, but more intelligible; yet I conceive his con­clusions drawn from thence to be no demonstrations; and if any of his Disciples look upon them as such, I fear he is either prejudic'd, or sees things but under one light: I have so good opinion of Discartes his Judge­ment, that I believe he intended not to give us a true demonstration of God in his Metaphisical Meditations, though grounded, if I misremember not, upon these two principles, first, that whatever we have, a clear and distinct Idea of, exists, or may exist. Secondly, that we have a clear and di­stinct Idea that God is in Nature. For I know not why I may not have a [Page 111] clear and distinct Idea of any impossi­ble thing, since our Knowledge re­ceiveth not so much its qualificati­ons from its Object, as from the man­ner of its tendency towards the Object, which may be clear, tho' the Object be confused. Again, no man of good sense will take this pro­position, Deus est, God exists, for one of those we call Notas per se, known immediately by their own self-evi­dence, without a Medium or reason to prove them. Nevertheless this must happen in our case, if we have a clear and distinct Idea of Gods being really existent in nature, or of his being possible: For if I conceive an infinite good possible, 'tis consequen­tial that he really exists, since in this very notion the actual existency is in­cluded, as being a most material per­fection.

3. Let us not then impose upon our selves, and take for demonstra­tion by a certain Precipitation of judgement, what at the utmost bea­reth [Page 112] but a fair show of probability. I may methinks be allowable to mis­trust a Mans Capacity, when he pre­tends to know all things to the bot­tom, or to say nothing, what is not either in it self, or by consequence clear and evident. I have always been a great admirer of Thomas Aquinas, the Angelical Doctor, and do look upon him as a transcending Wit, but meerly upon this account, that he seems to be certain of nothing, though in Corpore articuli, he stands at length stiffly to one part of the contradiction, and answers the Ar­guments for the other. But you may easily gather both from the difficul­ties he proposeth to himself, and his answers that he pretended no more than to doubt rationally of disputa­ble matters; and more than this can­not be expected from the capacity of Man, who has no comprehensive knowledge of natural things, as An­gels have. I take then an ingenuous Ignorant to be of the most ingenious [Page 113] or knowing sort: I mean one that professeth sincerely he knoweth no­thing certainly, but who withal, be­cause of his penetrancy, and great Wit, can give a rational, though not a demonstrative account of every thing. Such an one I conceive ca­pable to defend probably, and no further, whatever you may propose to him. For few things are to a man of this Character self-evident. He doubts not only of the possibility of ever doubling the Cub, or squaring the Circle, of fixing of Mercury, of making malleable Glass, &c. But he discovers without Telescops, Stains, and Spots in the very Stars themselves, I mean Obscurity, False­hood, uncertainty in the clearest and most approved Notions, Errors, Mistakes, and sometimes flat Devia­tions from the Truth in the most ac­curate Authors. He neither admires the old Philosophy, nor dotes upon the New, but takes up the Cudgels indifferently for either, as it serves his [Page 114] turn, or his fancy. He is not always satisfied with what we call Mathe­matical Demonstrations, and dis­covers them often to be but false ap­paritions, imposing easily upon a weak understanding. He scrupleth at the vulgar Opinions, and values them no more than vulgar Errors. This is the Sentiment of an honoura­ble Gentleman, whom I respect as a great Wit; I have heard him say more than once, that he found by experi­ence the most vulgar Opinions to be flat untruths, which he has inge­niously proved to conviction in seve­ral of his most learned Books. Ne­vertheless, though such Men seem to be satisfied with nothing, not through Pride, for they are of the Humblest sort, but through Know­ledge, yet they are desirous to learn from the meanest Capacities, as well knowing that their Understanding, how vast soever, is but of a limited ex­tent, and not Omniscient. Tho' they be sparing of their Elogiums, as admi­ring [Page 115] nothing, yet they are seldom guil­ty of detraction, of too much bla­ming, or rashly condemning other mens labours; and if Books receive their Fates from the Capacity of the Readers, 'tis a good Fortune for a well penn'd Piece to fall into such mens hands: for being great Artists themselves, they are the best Judges of Arts, and do praise moderately what they judge to deserve it, or say nothing at all of what they either cannot, or will not commend.

1. ADam was not only the first man in the World, but the first Wit: for as being the King of all other inferiour Creatures, I do rationally fancy he was fitted to such an eminent Dignity, with proporti­onable Gifts, and Talents. This be­ing [Page 117] Gods usual way of providing for his Creatures whensoever he minds to exalt them. I conceive then, first Adam's Understanding fraught with clear and distinct Idea's of all natural things. He was, I doubt not, a good Alchimist, and an ingenious Astro­nomer, an accurate Geometer, a sub­tile Logician, and a very acute Phi­losopher. But yet I cannot say that he was a very witty Husband, because of his too simple and blind compla­cency to his Wife, which occasioned his ruine, and that of his Posterity. We must not think nevertheless that his Fall darkned his Understanding, though it corrupted his will: For I suppose he was not unlike to the An­gels, as to this point: of whom the Divines affirm, non sunt vulnerati in Naturalibus, after their Sin commit­ted, they retained yet all their na­tural endowments, as not being wounded in their Intellectuals. He could then I fancy, and did really propagate to Posterity a part of his [Page 118] Wit and Knowledge: Not that I think Wit to be hereditary, since we know certainly by daily experience, that the most ingenious men beget sometimes the dullest Children. My meaning only is, that he taught his Sons and Daughters, what he him­self never learned but from God im­mediately, so they became in a short time by his Instructions well vers'd in most Sciences, and skilful in all Arts, which they invented first for necessi­ty's sake, and then for conveniency. Thus Wit flourished in the World as by a lineal descent, till the days of Noah: When all Flesh had corrup­ted their way, that is their Wit; Om­nis caro corruperat viam suam. It was confin'd then in the Ark to a little number, and if the Ark had split, it had intirely perished. The Aegyptians after the retreat of the Waters from above the Face of the Earth, claimed more right to it for several hundred years, than any other Nation of the World. Every Crea­ture [Page 119] was to them a piece of Divini­ty, and what signifyed nothing to other Nations, represented to them profound Mysteries. Their Hierogli­phicks are evident proofs of their in­genious meditations. To them, as much as to the Arabians, we owe the knowledge of Astronomy, and of most other Sciences: Yet as men are obnoxious to various changes, this most ingenious Nation became at length so dull, as to acknowledge, and worship Cats, Dogs and Rats for its Gods. But the Grecians succeeding in their Room, took upon them to be the great Instructers of the World, and were never equal'd but by the Romans. I know not what to make of Plato, whether we should call him a God or a Man: I shall only say, he justly deserves to be stiled Divine, Divinus Plato, because of his high Sentiments of God, and those Notable pieces of Divinity he has left to Posterity. Anacharsis, Anax­agoras, Pythagoras, Euclides, are re­ally [Page 120] Stars of the first magnitude, and were the greatest Wits of their times: But the Romans at length subduing the Grecians, became their Masters, not only by the happy success of their Arms, but also by their Wit, Learning and Eloquence: For if we reflect but a moment upon the present condition of the Grecians, we shall instantly con­clude, that whensoever the body is enslaved, the mind is commonly sub­dued, or at least loseth much of its natural vigour and sharpness, because of its dependency upon the body. The Athenians under the Roman Yoke were no more called then, as before, Scientiarum Omnium Inrentrices Athe­nae, the Inventors of all Arts and Sciences. The Muses had now de­serted Athens to follow the Roman Conquerours, to the Imperial Seat of the World then, Rome. The Ro­mans now on the other side began to propagate, together with their own Authority, Wit, and Knowledge, through the rest of the World; yet [Page 121] the Gymnosophists flourish'd before them, as some fancy in the East In­es. I know not what sort of Men they were, but if we believe the relations of some not unlearned Tra­vellours, they taught not very im­pertinent Doctrines concerning a­nother life, a Rewarder, and Punish­er of Crimes, of the Existency, Om­nisciency, Goodness and Immensity of God. 'Tis reported that they delighted much in that pleasant fan­cy of Transmigration of their Souls; which Doctrine I take to be most true in this Sense, that Men in all ages do arise so like unto those that have gone before them, as to Wit, Sharp­ness and Learning; that we must not quarrel much with such as admit a certain representative Metempsycosis, or Transmigration of Souls from one Body into another: Which I fancy was the Opinion of the First Trans­migrators, and is conceived to have been the meaning of the Indian Gymnosophists. The Druides like­wise, [Page 122] before ever the Roman Eagles appeared on this side of the Alps, were look't upon as great Wits a­mong the Gauls. Yet I could learn almost nothing of this Tribe abroad, though I have been very inquisitive after their Doctrine, Discipline, and Manners, but that they lived in re­mote places, as upon Mountains, where I have seen some of their Mo­numents, and in Woods much resor­ted to, by the generality of the People that consulted them upon all occasi­ons, and doubtful Cases, as Oracles. Yet I was inform'd that they held the World eternal, and thought it a self-evident Contradiction that any thing should be made of nothing. They could not admit in God any foresight of contingent effects, as al­together inconsistent in their Fancy with their Contingency. Neverthe­less the Gauls were but a blunt and dull sort of People, under these self-conceited and speculative Masters. Yet no sooner the Romans had pos­sessed [Page 123] themselves of the greatest part of the World, but the Gauls and most other Nations began to improve more particularly their Natural Ta­lents.

2. Nevertheless I believe, I shall not be contradicted, if I say that since the Roman Empire was torn a­sunder by its own divisions, and in­testine Broyls, Wit and Learning made a greater Progress in the World than ever they had done during the pros­perous Days of the Roman great­ness. For not to speak of Gunnery, Printing, Sailing, whereof either the Romans knew nothing at all, or never came neer the skill of after Ages, they can pretend to no insight in Chymistry, and had made but few discoveries in Natural Philosophy, in compare to what the Wits of our Age have made in both, to the great benefit of Mankind. Yea I am of Opinion, that if Cicero came now into the World again, he would be forced to study afresh his own Tongue, and [Page 124] learn from us the new significations of many Latine Words, which we either borrow, or invent to express new things, and that were perhaps quite unknown to him: Such I reckon to be most Chymical terms, as Precipi­tation, Solution, Stratification, Volati­sation, &c. Some of the Antients I confess, were Eminent Mathemati­cians, as Ptolemy, Euclides, &c. But Methinks we have no reason to yield to them in this point; since besides many new things we have discovered that they never dreamt of; we may justly boast of the renowned Napers Divine Invention, I mean his admi­rable Logarithmes, whose Properties and Nature the more you study, the greater Wonders you shall meet with. I take this Divine Art, for I know no Elogium below it, to be the very Key of Mathematicks. Since what for­merly could not be done without long and tedious Multiplications and Divisi­ons, may now be perform'd by a simple Addition and Substraction, Operati­ons [Page 125] so easie, that a Man but of a mean Capacity may become capable in less than a days time, to teach them.

3. I shall not forget here another no less curious, and more necessary piece of Wit, or regarding more nearly the common good. I have seen in France, Holland, Germany, many sad effects of what we call Her­niam or Rupture: And being curi­ous to know the best Methods of cu­ring it, I converst the renowneds [...] Artists, upon this account, in mos [...] parts of Europe: But could never be satisfied with what I either could in­vent my self, or learn from others▪ concerning the main Instruments made use of in this important cure, I mean the Trusses, whether Ʋmbilical, o [...] others. But all my doubts were full [...] cleared, and my curiosity entirely sa­tisfied, since I met with Mr. Smith [...] Scotch Gentleman, living in the Black-Fryers, in London. To do him ju­stice, without the least design of e [...] ­ther [Page 126] interest or concern, I never met with any either at home or abroad comparable to him in the Art and Skill of curing this sad Distemper. I conceive his chief Secret to consist in two things. First, in making Trusses so light and easie to carry, that whereas others sometimes weigh several Pounds, whereof I have seen one in his own House, his exceed not nine or ten Ounces. Secondly, so fit­ted to the Body, that they follow ex­exactly its movement whether vio­lent or natural, as if they were in­corporated in a manner to the Person that wears them. He designs to pub­lish at conveneniency his Method, which undoubtedly will prove a great common Good. But I should wea­ry out your patience, would I be at the pains to set down here all the great advantages of this Age we live in, above the foregoing Centuries. Though the Antient Romans may just­ly pretend to have been greater Ma­sters of the Latine Tongue than we [Page 127] are now: Yet I can instance three Linguists near our times, that may justly be reckoned among the purests of the Polite Age of Augustus, I mean Buchanan, Petavius, Maffeius. The first is well known, and is most natural and smooth, whether he writes Verse or Prose: upon his ac­count it was said, that

His Translation of the Psalms is as far beyond that of Father Mag­net's, the Jesuite, as a Master-piece is before the meer Rudiment of a Prentice. Petavius and Maffeius, so well known all the Learned World over, may be ranged with those of the Primitive times for the Purity of their Style: But however, though we may yield to the Romans in this point, and grant that they knew their own Tongue better then For­reigners, yet we shall ever pretend [Page 128] the Advantage in several other things, of great Wit. Our Warlike Engines, our Artificial Fireworks, as Bombs, Carcasses, Grenads; Our Telescops, Microscops, &c. and a thousand o­ther obvious pieces of Art to be met with in every corner of Europe, do manifestly show that our times are improved, if not perhaps in Virtue, at least in real Knowledge, far be­yond all the foregoing Ages.

1. WE do often make an ill use of the best things, as also sometime a good use of the worst. Thus that great Overthrow­er of the Texture of Humane Bo­dies, [Page 130] Poyson, we turn into wholsome Remedies, and Powerful Antidotes. I know nothing worse than Sin, which nevertheless has proved an occasion of Salvation to many through Hu­mility and Humiliation, its ordinary Effects. St. Peter was never truly humble, till by a flat denyal of his Saviour, he became experimentally sensible of his own Weakness. St. Thomas's Incredulity, or misbelief, wrought not only in him an increase of Faith, but likewise in the rest of the Christian World. For I look up­on it as a most powerful inductive to believe the Mystery of the Resur­rection, because it occasion'd the Conviction of those that then doubt­ed of this Important truth, or might perhaps in after times doubt of it. For who can hereafter mi­strust this point, if he reflects but a moment with what evidence Christ proved to St. Thomas the Realty of his Body: But now 'tis as true on the other side, as I was saying a little [Page 131] before, that we misuse sometimes the best things, as a sickly and disor­derly constitution turns the best Food not into a good Substance, but into pernicious Venom. Thus Wit, the Noblest of Natural Gifts, is made often an Instrument of all kind of Wickedness. I conceive it was not said of the Devil only, Circuit tan­quam Leo rugens querens quam devores, That he runs to and fro like a roaring Lyon, to prey upon, and devour the first he meets with. This is likewise the chief and ordinary business of most Men in this corrupted age we live in. Some indeed like Roaring Lyons hold the World in a perpetual Stir, and Fear, by claiming right to whatever they can reach by their Arms. Others again make not an open War like Lyons, but more craf­ty like Foxes, lay secret Ambushes to their unthinking Neighbours. I would wish there were no Trades­men in the World, if Men could live as well without them. I know [Page 132] indeed they are thought necessary for the Good and Benefit of Man­kind; but the unjust measures they use sometimes for their own private ends, under pretence of promoting the Common Good, makes me speak thus, and wish we could want them. For I am of Opinion, that to trade with many, and to Cheat, are much about one. I shall not except that Noble, and necessary Art I do pro­fess my self, wherein I wish the num­ber of able, and Conscientious Men, did equal that of meer Pretenders, and bold Adventurers. I doubt not but there are Good Men of all Trades as of all Religions; yet I have known some Godly Tradesmen, as to their out-side, prove at length the grea­test Cheats under Heaven. They had no doubt read in Scripture this pas­sage, Ʋtilis ad omnia pietas, that Pi­ety is useful for everything: Whence they concluded, that it might be use­ful for the gaining of Money too, the best of things in their Conceit: and [Page 133] accordingly thought it a piece of Fol­ly and not of Wit, to adventure the cutting of a Purse in the High-way, since they could do it with greater security, and certainly by long Prayers, reformed Looks, or by what­ever they might gain the esteem of those they deal't withal, and could expect any thing from.

2. I shall say nothing of the Di­vers and manifold tricks of Lawyers, who become often on a suddain very rich, though by the Law, yet very unlawfully. If men were not mad, they would undoubtedly agree a­mong themselves, and give them less to do: It was not the only sad effect of Original Sin, that our Bodies should be obnoxious to the cruel handling of some Physitians, and our Souls to the interess'd decisions of fanciful Casuists, but likewise that our Goods, Substance and Riches, should be plunder'd and pillag'd, by those very Men who pretend to secure them to us by: certain [Page 134] Methods of equity and Justice: But this disorder, I mean this perpetual reflex upon our own private concerns, is not only to be met with in Atrio, in the outer Court, but 'tis got into the very Sanctuary it self, into the Church, and Pulpit, where no such thing should be expected. I doubt not but if we could see into the Breasts of several Preachers, we shou'd there discover that their greatest Zeal aims either at some Preferment, if they have none, or a fatter one then that they are possessed of. Neither do I fear the guilt of a rash Judgement, by speaking thus freely my mind, since 'tis commonly said, though per­haps it be but a meer calumny, that Church-Men discourse more toge­ther of their Livings, than of the means how to amend their own, per­haps, or other Mens irregular lives. Yet I will charitably suppose that this is but the defect of some few particular Men, and not of the Ge­nerality: For I do less wonder to [Page 135] see a debauch't Clergy-Man, than a Judas amongst Christ's Apostles. Ne­vertheless I pretend not that Clergy-Men, as well as others, may not make use of their Wit for their peculi­ar ends: I allow them then to preach either for a Benefice, or for a bet­ter Benefice, provided this be but their Secondary Motive, and not the first mover of all their Actions, or provided perhaps, by being inabled to do more good, they pretend to glorifie God more in a Higher Condition, than in a lower: In all this I conceive nothing Irregular: Neither do I deny but that an inge­nious Tradesman may, and ought to gain by his Ingenuity, cheating only, and the Art of Circumventing one another, I condemn; which I ob­serve to be but too usual among 'em: For if they have to do with a man that either understands not their Tricks, or ingeniously relies upon their Word, and Honesty, 'tis odds but consulting their dearly beloved [Page 136] Interest, more than what Justice re­quires of them, they will pretend to have used him kindly, as they speak, when they have really put a Cheat upon him. But as the eclip­ses of some Stars argue not a general darkness in all the rest, what I lately said of Church-Men, may likewise be understood of Mechanicks, and all Tradesmen, whereof several are Conscientious, and well meaning Men, so well grounded in the Max­ims of true Honour and Honesty, that they would not for all the World have done a base thing.

3. I am satisfyed that men misuse not only these ingenious faculties they have received from God to the Corruption of their Morals, but likewise to the intangling and depra­ving of their Intellectuals. I laugh more at, than I do pity the unsuccess­ful attemps of such as pretend to give us a true Notion of the Infinite, that is of a thing infinitely above the reach of our conceiving Faculty, or to [Page 137] inform the World with Aristotle, what or how many parts either time or matter is compounded of. Des­cartes, if not so subtile as Aristotle, is in my Judgement more prudent, for having left untouch't such insolvable, and useless Difficulties. The Pom­pous Notions of Eternity, as a perpe­tuum nunc, a perpetual Instant, instans infinitum, an infinite Instant, Instans immobile, an immoveable moment, Vitae interminabilis tota simul ac perfecta possessio, a perfect and whole possessi­on all at once of an interminable life, are but vain and airy Conceits, fitter to embroyl our Understandings, than to give them any New, or real Light towards the discovery of the Object they propose. We may tru­ly say of Eternity what an antient Philosopher said of God, the more we think on it, the less we know what it is; which may be like­wise applyed to many other things, commonly thought less inconcei­vable, as to time, place, motion [Page 138] and matter, whereof as I have never read any satisfactory Notions, so I think it not worth my while to make any new attempts about a Subject which I humbly conceive to be some degrees beyond the reach of my weak Abilities. What a strange conceit is it in some to consume whole years, and the greatest part of their days in searching a perpetual movement, & at the same time wholly artificial: A French Jesuite spent unsuccessfully a part of his Life, and a considerable Sum of Money in this vain attempt, and coming at length without have­ing found out the eternal move­ment, to his last end, and eternal rest, reaped no other thing by the continual, and long Labours of his Life, but this pleasant Epitaph after his Death, Patri quaerenti motum per­petuum requies aeterna.

4. I take it likewise to be a loss of time, which I would not value, if it proved not also sometimes the loss of Mens Fortunes, to search after, [Page 139] though perhaps it may be found out what they call commonly the Philo­sophers Stone. A Man of a great Estate, who dyed at length in an Hospital, said, a little before his Death, he could wish his most im­placable Enemy no greater misfor­fortune than to become an Alchi­mist, or a Chrysopeian, I mean one that endeavours to find out the Tex­ture necessary for the constitution of a true Gold: This Texture I fancy is known to the Angels, whether good or bad, because they have an intutive and comprehensive Know­ledge too, in some degrees, of the whole Creation: But I have just rea­son to doubt if any Man has as yet stumbled upon it: And which makes equally for my purpose, though we were certain to find out at length this wonderful Art, all would be in vain and lost labour, yea, and of a dange­rous consequence too. Because Prin­ces being justly jealous of such in­dustrious Artists, would either use [Page 140] them hardly, or keep them in per­petual Prison, least they should fur­nish their Enemies, or their subject [...] with an easie Method of Heaping up Treasures; which would render them less considerable, by dividing thus into many hands, and in great quan­tities, the things they are most courted, and respected for by the vulgar sort, Gold and Silver. But I conceive no worse use of Wit, than to be busie about acquiring too much insight in Judiciary Astrology, which a man cannot be intirely addicted to, without being already come to the Years of Dotage in the Opinion of the Wiser sort. I often do wonder how rational Men are not deterr'd from the Study of this vain Science, by the very weakness of its imaginary Principles, and suffer not themselves to be laught out of it, by the notori­ously false predictions of such as have pretended to the greatest insight in this matter. The Great Duke's Mule is a known Story; whose Horoscop [Page 141] being enquired for under the Notion of a Bastard from those that were then esteemed most eminent in Judi­ciary Astrology; the import of their answer was not only what really was not to come to pass, but what could never happen: For some promis'd to this pretended Bastard the Empire, others the Triple Crown, some would needs have him to become one day a great Lawyer, others a great Cap­tain, and others again a Saint. So extream was the folly of those Irre­gular Heads, who deserved not only to be pointed at for their insufferable Vanity, but likewise to be severely punish't for daring to thrust upon the World at this rate these flat un­truths, and presuming to play the Prophets, without the least proof of their being inspired, or so much as of a sufficient Capacity for the Fra­ming of probable conjectures.

4. 'Tis not only in my Judgement a Sin which we should chiefly fear, to consult with Magicians and Witches, [Page 142] if there be any, concerning contingen [...] effects and contingencies; especially such as depend upon the free deter­mination of our wills, which the An­gels, of whatsoever colour, if I may so say, know no more than I do. Though because of their natural a­cuteness, they guess a great deal nea­rer what we are to determine our selves to, by the present Temper and Disposition of our Bodies. I know indeed that the innate perfection o [...] the Angelical Nature, as all Divines generally teach, requireth a perfect Knowledge of our free Determi­nations, as well as of our necessary ones. But I am told likewise by the greatest Masters of Divinity, that God never concurs with them to such a Knowledge, because he is re­solved to maintain the priviledge o [...] Mankind, whose Prerogative it is, as of other Commonwealths, to have all Freedom, either of concealing from, or communicating to For­reigners their Secrets. Thus if I ad­dress [Page 143] my Thoughts to the Devil, or to an Angel, I do not improbably think, that God being now free by my consent, and yielding up my right from that Obligation he has put upon himself, the Angel really knows, and understands what I think; but if I do not direct after this manner my Thoughts, or will not discover them to any other Crea­ture: God has put a tye upon him­self, grounded upon the Priviledge of a Free Commonwealth, as that of Mankind is, not to lend a helping hand to the Discovery of my secret Thoughts. Since then the Devil can­not at the utmost frame but very weak conjectures of things to come, espe­cially if they be contingent: It is not only useless, but a not ordinary piece of madness, to take advice from, and consult with them, who in all appearance have first consulted him.

5. There are other things of great Moment, wherein we may misapply [Page 144] our Wit, and spend our time not on­ly to no purpose, but likewise to our great damage too. I am for in­stance but a private Man, and a ve­ry inconsiderable Member of the Commonwealth too, so as it never was my Lot, nor in all appearance ever will be, to share with others that de­serve it better in the Government of State Affairs; yet if I am as the Tray­tor Holloway said of himself, a too pub­lick Spirited Man, pretending to meddle with things that I am not an­swerable for, as not being entrusted to my Charge, I neither do in this case behave my self, as if I were ei­ther Witty, or wise. What a piece of folly is it then to censure the Acti­ons of our Lord and Soveraign, be­cause perhaps they square not to the fanciful conceits of our irregular Heads. For since we can never in reason suppose but that he aims at nothing more than the Peace, Hap­piness, and common good of the Nation, as being inseparable from [Page 145] his own concerns, and wellfare: if you perhaps through a criminal mi­stake chance to be of another Opi­nion; you may certainly conclude from thence that you understand not the Publick concerns so well as he does, who sits at the Helm, and is by Gods special command to watch over us all, as a Flock committed to his vigilancy and trust.

As the Stones cut by the prescript of an Archytect into Triangles, Squares, Cubes, Pyramids, know not why they are thus shaped: For this being the business of the Archi­tect, or Master Mason, who has con­ceived a clear and distinct Idea of the whole Building, he orders ac­cordingly whatever he thinks fit­ting for the compleating thereof. Should then those Stones to follow out this comparison, complain of their being cut after this, or that manner, or of their not being set in the Frontespiece, rather than in some inconsiderable corner of the Building: [Page 146] Would this in your opinion, be ei­ther rational or sufferable, since they know nothing of the Underta­kers design. We run yet much more counter to reason, and the Subor­dination that God has established in this World, when we presume to set up for Judges of our Soveraign, or dare to question upon what ac­count he does this or that, issue out this or that Order, as if we under­stood better than he, the Publick In­terest, which God has entrusted to him, not to us. We shall never then be useful Members to the Common­wealth we make a part of, unless we keep within the bounds of our Respective Stations. 'Tis then safe and a greater piece of Wit in a Tradesman for instance, to mind his business, and Domestick con [...] erns, rather than to asperse th [...] Government by his malicious reflections, or which is yet worse, to writ seditious Pamphlets, and calumniatory Libels in opposition to his Superiours. [Page 147] Such Men have a great ac­count to render one day to God for this disorderly use of their Wit. I conceive the Devil himself with his Hellish Tribe, to be but in one point worse than those troublesom Spirits; that he is not capable of Repentance. But I need not enlarge on this Subject, since to the great advantage of the established Govern­ment, 'tis daily handled with so much accuracy by that very ingenious, and truly Loyal Gentleman, Sir Ro­ger L' Estrange.

1. IT may be a Paradox, though no untruth, that Wit is the worst of Gods Gifts bestowed upon Man­kind, if we Judge a thing bad, that either is the occasion or cause of evil, and mischief: For it is not only the Headwel of Rebellion, Sedition, and Heresie, which we may easily discover, whether we reflect upon our times, or by a start backwards take a view of the foregoing Ages; but 'tis also the Inventer of those in­numerable Engins made use of by men for the Ruine of Mankind, un­der pretence either of a necessary defence, or just attack: Yet as by Malice, or misapplication, it may be a fit Instrument for evil; so if we [Page 150] turn it once the right way, it may prove the most useful, as undoubted­ly it is the most shining participation of the Divine Nature. And I know not why Aristotle said, that a Man who can live in a retired solitude, must be either a God, or a Beast: Since for this I conceive nothing else requisite but a not too narrow Wit: For Spi­ritualis homo omnia judicat, the Spiritu­al Man, that's the Witty, discerns, and makes use of every thing. Of such an one 'tis truly said, Nunquam minus solus quam cum solus, that he is never in better company, than when he is with no body; for then in his retired Thoughts he calls him­self to an account, and examines se­verely all his own actions, thoughts and Words. I know not then where­upon 'tis grounded, that a Man is a sociable Animal, and loves to live to­gether with his like in Nature and Shape. For I have always observed the wittyest sort of men to delight more in their retired Solitudes, than [Page 151] in the greatest Crouds. If this com­mon Maxim be not a vulgar Error, as I believe 'tis none, it cannot be understood but of the duller Sort, who being once alone, are in all sense alone, and with no body, because they are no Company to themselves; I mean they know not how to play the time away, with what either is within or without themselves: But such as can act the Philosophers part with whatever they see, feel, or touch, do neither need, or incline much to converse except perhaps those that are of a no less, or rather of greater Abilities than themselves. Nay Books to such men are not necessary Com­panions in their Retirements: For they can want their Company too, though not so well as that of Men. One of these three they are always conversant with, themselves, God, or the Obvious Works of his Power, that are without us. I conceive not, 'tis true, what God is; for how should he be what he is, if I could compre­hend [Page 152] him, yet I may apprehend him to be a being infinitely perfect: that is to say, whose perfections are num­berless. I need not then, if I please, want a Subject to think on when alone, if considering apart those per­fections one after another; I mea­sure, as far as I can reach, their di­mensions, their length, their breadth, and their depth. So I shall now me­ditate upon his Power, and then con­template the strange effects thereof in the works of the Creation, which I shall always conceive infinitely be­low what he could have done, or may yet do. I shall again represent to my self, though very imperfectly, the brightness of his Glory in the Sun, Moon and Stars, his constancy in the Earth▪ his activity in the Fire, the depth of his Essence in the bot­tomless Seas, and the least of his Creatures shall be unto me a fair Co­py of his Wisdom, Goodness, and other Perfections.

[Page 153]2. But if I make no other use of my Wit than this, I am but a meer Moralist, and not a Christian; for as such I must lay aside my Philoso­phy, and believe what I conceive not upon the infallible Authority of an ob­scure Revelation. Nevertheless, tho' my Religion forbids me to play the Philosopher, yet if I pretend to a rational belief, I presume nothing a­gainst its true Maxims. As I look then upon the meer light of Faith to be somewhat dark, so I know the light of reason to be somewhat clearer: May not I then joyn those two Lights together, and make perhaps a grea­ter one of them both? I believe the mystery of the Trinity, though I comprehend it not; I think it not unlawful to slatter my own Weakness with the discovery of some Rudi­ments thereof in my Soul, as being one in Nature, and threefold in Ope­ration, I mean, as having three di­stinct Faculties, the Memory, Under­standing and Will. The Incarnati­on [Page 154] is above the reach of an Angelical Understanding: The Angels them­selves by the meer light of Nature could not but judge it impossible. 'Tis a strange Metamorphosis, that faith only teacheth me to be real. Stile me not nevertheless quite imperti­nent, if for my own satisfaction I en­deavour to perswade to my self the possibility thereof, by what I see daily in Nature, in the grafting of one Tree upon another, so that two Natures become now but one by union, and one almost individual Principle of their Common Producti­ons. The resurrection of our Bo­dies, or that after so many Changes, and different Shapes of Worms, Ser­pents, Birds, Fishes, or whatever may feed upon us, we shall be at length our numerical selves again, is a thing that I incline to believe upon experi­ence, when I observe some Liquors or Waters, perfectly corrupted, to recover themselves, though neither this, nor the foregoing Motives, could [Page 155] ever make me a Christian without the Authority of Divine Revelation, which I neither take from the Ro­mish, English, nor Greek, but from the Catholick and Universal Church, conceiv'd by the Unbyass'd and Un­derstanding sort to be compounded of all such, and the like particular true Christian Assemblies. Thus what all true Christians grant, and never debated, this and no other I take to be an article of Divine Faith, necessary to Salvation, if sufficiently proposed. I look upon the rest as Supernumerary, or at the utmost as probable opinions, that may be dis­puted to and fro amongst School­men, but ought not to be impos'd upon Christians, as Articles of Divine Faith, without the belief of which, their Names are rased out of the Book of Life. I believe then not only that there is a Catholick Church, Credo Ecclesiam Catholicam, but likewise, Credo Ecclesiae Catholicae, I believe whatever it unamiously decides: [Page 156] for, Audi Ecclesiam, hearken to the Church, is a true obligation, but the Romanist is extreamly prejudic'd, when he means always the Romish Church, as if it were, as it now stands, truly universal; whereas 'tis but a Member, and a very unsound one too of that great Body, we must all submit to. I have observed another common mistake of the less discerning Sort of Romanists, which is this, They pretend to a considerable advantage over Protestants from Antiquity, but reflect not that their Church is no otherwise distinguish'd from the reformed part of the World, than by meer Novelties, and Myste­ries unheard of in the first three Cen­turies: For I know no other mate­rial difference between a Protestant and a Romanist, but that the former adheres closely to the Doctrine of the Primitive times, whereas the latter takes for an articie of Divine Faith, not only what the universal Church held from all times, but whatever the parti­cular [Page 157] Church of Rome hath declar'd since to be reveal'd. Yet because I was ever of opinion that every man must stand, or fall by the verdict of his own Conscience; I think it neither fit, nor a good use of Wit to quarrel with any man upon the account of his Religion.

3. I shall therefore do better per­haps, to clear in this point those of my own Profession, I mean the Phi­sitians, from a foul and too general aspersion of the vulgar sort, alledg­ing that they are not much concern'd with what we call Religion. For 'tis commonly, to our great scandal said, Ex tribus medicis duo Athei, that of three Physitians there are but two Atheists. I am without Prejudice, of a quite contrary opinion, and think it no Paradox to say, that none are so Religious as Physitians, or at least, that none have greater opportunities to raise their Souls to the highest De­gree of Perfection: Which if I prove to conviction, nothing more can ra­tionally be required for the taking [Page 158] away this general scandal of our Profession. What I shall say of Phy­sitians must needs be understood of their near Relations, the natural Philosophers, who likewise, if we credit the bigotted part of Mankind, are no great Patrons of either Virtue or Religion.

Would one think that two con­trary Causes could have the same Influence, or the same effect, yet no­thing more conformable to Truth. Thus I hold that as ignorance is com­monly the Mother of Devotion in most men, I mean in the duller sort of Mankind; so Knowledge, the opposite extream, begets undoubt­edly Piety and Religion, in such as have eyes to discover God in the Works of his Power. But who has a greater conveniency for making of such useful Discoveries than Physiti­ans, whether we consider the Object of their Art, or the Subject thereof. The former I take to be, whatever is contained in the three Kingdoms, as [Page 159] they speak, in the Animal, Vegetative and Mineral: where they cannot but admire that Soveraign being, Fa­therly Providence over Mankind, in the production of whatever may prove instrumental to the conserva­tion of our Health and Life. The latter I apprehend to be no other than that wonderful Engine of our Body, whose wonderful Structure may furnish them with higher Senti­ments of God, than that of the Uni­verse it self. Thus a Phisitian consi­dering this most ingenious Fabrick, cannot but raise his thoughts towards the Maker thereof. For no man in his Wits will take the Coition, or ra­ther Cohalition of all the parts of our Body into such a comely and propor­tionable texture, to be meer fortui­tous, and not the real effect of Art and Wisdom. I know not then whereon is grounded the general prejudice against this noble and ne­cessary Science, which the Divines themselves, especially those of the [Page 160] Romish perswasion seem to be more concerned in than Physitians. For he was not perhaps guilty of a very flat untruth, who inverting thus the common word said, Ex tribus Theolo­gici duo Athei, That of three Divines its odds but two are Atheists, or in my less severe judgment perhaps, meer Deists; because pretending sometimes to circumscribe our Mysteries with­in the Circumference of their narrow Understandings; they often fall from believing, what by their Weak Reason they cannot reach, and so turning Christianism into Deism, they cease to be in their Hearts what for interest sake they make an out­ward Profession of. The Romish Di­vines, to the great Scandal of the World, busie themselves in their Schools, in laying open the Argu­ments that humane acuteness may frame against the possibility of Christ's Incarnation; as if their answers grounded upon these obscure princi­ples of Faith, could prove evident [Page 161] confutations of such Objections, as seem to us to rely upon Evidence. I know no shorter way than this to De­ism, and thence by degrees to A­theism; when they teach that the most illuminate Angel could not by the meer light of Nature fall into the least suspicion of the possibility of an Hypostatical Union; do they not give occasion to the weaker sort to think that this Mystery is not only above, but against reason? Yet I was scandaliz'd at nothing more than neither to hear, nor propose any de­monstration of the existency of God, which they pretend not to confute with a show of probability, as if A­theism were a probable opinion, which seems to be the consequence of their Doctrine; for though each one claims to a demonstration of Gods being actually in nature, yet no two do ever agree upon the same: what the one affirms, the other denies with equal grounds, as he pretends, from Reason: So that by their principles [Page 162] they must hold it probable that there is no demonstration of a Soveraign Being, which I look upon as a dan­gerous, and a too bold Assertion.

4. The only then profitable use of Wit in such matters of Religion as over-reach our weak Capacity, con­sists in captivating our Understanding by an humble submission to the be­lief of the Universal Church.

As to other inferiour Subjects, I know nothing fitter to improve our Intellectuals, than the Study of natu­ral Philosophy: For it filleth not our Heads with vain and airy Notions, with insignificant School Terms, and Pedantick Niceties, but aims at the promoting in us of real Knowledge: Yet I am not so much out of conceit with the School Doctrine, as to put no value upon it at all. That part of it they call artificial Logick, I ap­prehend not only to be useful, but necessary for the quickning of our dis­coursing Faculty: for I have always observed such as understand not the [Page 163] Art of a Syllogism, or the Aristotalian Method of drawing Coherent Con­clusions, to raise often very illegal Inferences, which you can scarce make them sensible of, because be­ing not acquainted with the general, and particular Laws of a formal dis­course; they seldom distinguish be­tween what is concluded vi formae, as they speak, and what is only con­cluded vi materiae. I mean when a proposition is essentially true, and because of its dependancy upon a­nother, and only accidentally, or be­cause of the Subject it expresseth. Yet I am of opinion that the Analy­tick Method is to be preferr'd before the Syllogistick, because, besides that the former, mean of analysie and reso­lution contains, if well manag'd, the Substance of the latter; it bringeth a­long with it more Ornaments than is consistent with naked Enthimema's, & harsh Syllogysms. I know not neverthe­less if any of these Methods be fit for young Beginners; for I incline much [Page 164] to think, that our Imagination, tho' generally stronger in our greener years, than our Judgement, yet be­ing more various and changeable than in our Riper Days, must needs first of all be brought to some degree of consistency: which may easily be done by following the custom of some Antient Masters, who would have their Scholars to learn first the Mathematicks, as the easiest Princi­ples and Demonstrations both of practical and speculative Geometry; Not so much upon the account of the great Evidence of such Sciences, as chiefly because they depend upon Figure and Proportion, two things necessary and sufficient for the fixing of our inconstant Imaginations.

5. I have no more to say of the use of Wit at present, except what may regard our familiar and daily Conversations: We are then to re­flect with whom we have to do: For if they be really our Masters in all sense, or judged generally beyond [Page 165] the common reach; whatever abi­lities we find our selves gifted with, we must rather keep them close than display them vainly in their presence, least we seem either to think too much of our selves, or not enough of them: To whom, as occasion serves, we ought to pay without flat­tery, the Homage due to their grand Genius's. If perchance we converse with those that we judge not superi­our to our selves, we may take more Freedom, but if we are in Company of the duller sort, we must conform our Discourses to their Capacity, and not to our own. For to behave our selves otherwise, I mean to endea­vour in our Converse with such men, to say nothing but what carryeth a­long with it a certain Character of Wit, and Sharpness, would be a no less piece of Folly then, as they com­monly say, Projicere Margaritas ante porcos, to cast Pearls before Swine because they could neither digest, nor be sensible of such a Spiritual Food. [Page 166] I remember upon this occasion a pas­sage of two Gentlemen, who hearing a third say, that an Embassadour was an Honourable Spy, opposed warmly this expression, as carrying in its Front an apparent Contradiction, and that an honourable Spy could amount to nothing more than an Honourable Rogue. Though they seem'd to be ingenious enough, yet they could not be made sensible of their mistake, nor conceive somewhat of Wit in this reflecting way of speaking, and more Sense too than every mean Capaci­ty is aware of.

1. AS I conceive nothing to be of a long continuance that may have an end, so I think nothing in rigour perfect, that contains not all Imaginable perfections; I know [Page 168] not then why we should call any man perfect, and not rather in com­pare to others less Imperfect; since the imperfection of Mankind consists not only in the real want of several perfections, but likewise in this, that men are not always capable of ma­king use of these great Abilities, that God perhaps has bestowed liberally upon them, which may, and does frequently happen upon several ac­counts.

First, because the perfectest Soul in the World is but of a limited Ca­pacity, and consequently cannot at all moments apply it self to every Object with an equal attention: For Pluribus intentus minor est ad singula Sensus, the more objects we consi­der of at once, the less notice we take of each one in particular. And if it be true that some of the Antients, as Caesar, if I misremember not, could write, speak, and dictate at the same time; sure I am, he could perform neither of the three, with that acuracy, [Page 169] had he done either of them several­ly. 'Tis then the prerogative of a Soveraign being only to understand all things equally; the perpetual contemplation of his own essence not hindring him from looking into the Secrets of our Hearts, and weighing the least of our Thoughts: Men then even the Wittyest sort, by reason of their limited abilities, when too much applyed to one object, seem to for­get all others: And thus discovering their own Weakness, become some­times a Subject of laughter and sport to those they chance to con­verse with. St. Thomas, deservedly called the Angel of the School, was look't upon as very dull and simple, when at the Emperors Table he broke out on a suddain into these words, Con­clusum est contra Manacheos, the Con­viction of the Manichees! Or its con­cluded against the Minachees, which though reported by some as a sign of his profound Wit, and great Capa­city; I take in the quite contrary, [Page 117] to be an infallible mark of a very li­mited Genius, as not being capable of performing two things at the same time: But the most observable de­ficiency of those Men, we esteem great Wits, lies here, that they are not only not equally capable of ma­ny things at once, but what some­times they can do to admiration, they are again within a short time intirely unfit for. Thus a mans converse will be often charmingly pleasant, and witty, whom you shall find at other times dull and heavy. Which I may in Second Instance suppose to proceed from a certain necessary, or voluntary Wearyness of the Soul: For I see no cause why it may not fall weary, as well as the Body. The difference only is that the latter becomes weary because of the loss of its most lively parts, the Spirits; the former because of its limited nature, and weak faculties, or rather through a natural desire of change and va­riety. Thirdly, we are not our selves [Page] upon all occasions, because of our too green and domineering passions: whether they be of sorrow, envy, hatred or anger, which turn all our natural sharpness and Vivacity into malicious contrivances, and fits of Fury. When we have conceived an extream aversion from any per­son, by inveighing against him upon all occasions, we show no more Wit than can be expected from a scolding Woman: No wonder then if we cease sometimes to be ingenious, since we are often over-ruled by our undaun­ted passions, which overthrow yet more the inward temper of our Souls, than the outward Texture of our Bodies. Nevertheless we must confess that it is not always in our Power, either to speak or write wittily at all times, or with that ac­curacy we are really capable of. The Great Homer is not always himself, but sometimes of a dull and sleepy Humour, Quandoque bonus dormitàt Homerus; but I understand Man­kind [Page 172] better than to wonder at such accidental deficiencies in the greatest Men, because I am sensible of this common, but most true Word, Nemo omnibus horis sapit, No man has always his Wits about him. For as the very change of Weather changeth some­times the Temper of our Bodies, so it does alter that of our Souls: We shall then at some Hours of the day both write, and speak easily, and wittily too, good sense: At some o­thers, we may scratch our heads long enough before we awaken, and re­vive again our almost dead Spirits. Which gives me occasion sometimes to think, though no just grounds, that our Soul is really material, and of a very changeable Texture too, since it passeth so easily, and in such a short time from one extream to ano­ther: For I would conceive in its suppos'd Spiritual Nature, a more constant and durable Temper. Yet I apprehend that several things may occasion in us this accidental dulness: [Page 173] And first, the very Company we converse with, either we esteem not enough, or too much. In the for­mer case we want encouragement to endeavour to show our Wit, because we think not those we speak to worth our while, or deserving our peculiar application: In the latter we are kept in awe by a prudent fear of the Censure, and inward slight of such as we have a high Esteem, and Veneration for. But as I know no­thing more prejudicial to Wit, than Want and Poverty; so I conceive those common Sentences, Ingenii lar­gitor venter, vexatio dat intellectum, &c. that Hunger, Vexation and Trouble do make men witty, to be but meer illusions, and vulgar Errors grounded only upon this, that the very dullest of Men in great Straits will make odd shifts to rid them­selves of the present Necessity. We must needs then confess, Virtutibus Obstat res augusta domi, That a light Purse, as the Scots say, makes a hea­vy [Page 174] Heart, and very unfit to exert those not ordinary Abilities we are perhaps gifted with. Besides, such is the Nature of Mankind, that with­out some encouragement, or pros­pect of reward, 'tis not in our Pow­er to do our utmost endeavours in any enterprize whatsoever.

2. I pretend to no extraordinary Skill in Physick, yet I know no cu­rable distemper; but methinks I could cure, provided I want not the necessary encouragements from my Patient, which if you look upon as a piece of Covetousness, you disco­ver more of a censuring, than of a sharp and considering Genius: For as it is highly my concern, that you recover your Health by my care. So I cannot but desire your recove­ry most earnestly, tho' I expected no just salary for my laudable endea­vours: Whereby I intend only to give this wholsom advice to the Pa­tient, as much for his concern, as for the Physitians interest, that if [Page 174] he fail to do his duty, 'tis odds if the o­ther, how conscientious and skilful so­ever perform successfully his part, not designedly, nor through Malice, but be­cause such is the natural constitution of Men, that they cannot serve God himself but upon the account of some proportionable reward. So if you would have your Physitian take notice of every particular circum­stance of your distemper, to apply usefully his Skill for your recovery, it will be a piece of Wit in you not to let him want too long his due. For else it will not be in his Power to make use, to your advantage, of that Wit God has given him, because you encourage him not, by doing what he justly expects, and may lawfully require. I doubt not but more Pa­tients have perished through their own narrowness, than by either the Ignorance, or wilful neglect of their Physitians.

[Page 176]3. I know not why some Nations now, as the Grecians, and others, produce scarce a Wit in an Age, which formerly were in so great repute through­out the whole World, but because they are not awakened out of their Lethargy by that powerful inductive to do great things, a proportiona­ble reward, which may quicken them into life again those, whose Wits seem to be buryed in their Bo­dies. So those Princes that are great promoters of Learning, and Lear­ned Men deserve from them an Apo­theosis, a sort of Divine Honour, be­cause they hold of them the very Life of their Souls, their Wit, by the daily encouragements of their Prince­ly Liberalities.

I must in this place remember you, that the greatest Wits cease sometimes to give light before the years of Dotage, either because the Organs without which the perfectest Soul cannot make us sensible of its Abili­ties, are corrupted by our irregulari­ties, [Page 177] or perhaps because of the Na­tural limitation of Humane Capaci­ty, which could reach no further.

4. As to the wittyest Authors, there is not only a difference among them, such as is between different Stars: But the fame Author is sometimes so unlike unto himself, that one would take him to be another. I admire the First Six Books of the Aenead, and the Sixth above all. I meet with nothing in all the rest that deserves my admiration. Ovid's Love-Letters are incompara­bly well done, they are penn'd most smoothly and wittily; but he negle­cted himself too much in those he wrote in the place of his banishment. There are some excellent pieces in his Metamorphosis; such I always fancied his description of the Old Chaos, and the Rudiments of the World, P [...]a [...] ­ton's journey to his Father the Sun, the debate between Ajax and Ʋlis­ses, &c. I admire nothing more in Lucan than the unevenness of his Style, he flies high, and on a suddain low [Page 178] again in the same Page, and some­times in the same Verse; you shall read none so elevated, upon some occasions, and none so flat on other rencounters: Claudian and he are near of a Temper. Livy by his long and Minute narratives wears out his own Wit, and the Readers patience. His best pieces in my Judgement are his Harangues, or those senseful Speaches he puts in the Mouths of Statesmen, and great Captains. I have had also a great Veneration for Cice­ro, yet I am very sensible that he is not himself upon all occasions. I find few of his Plea's so well penn'd, as that he made in defence of Milo. He knows not what he would be at in his Book de Natura Deorum, and his best Interpreters, I fancy, as Es­ [...]al [...]pier, &c. and others, do but guess at his meaning. As to the Ac­curacy, and Politeness of Expressi­on, he's every where the same, and the best Master of the Latine Tongue Aristotle is beyond envy it self, tho [Page 179] not every where beyond reach: the new Philosophers speak more distinct­ly, and give more sensible Notions of most things. His best Pieces I take to be his artificial Logic, or Art of arguing conformably to certain infal­lible Rules, his Politicks, his Poetry, his Rethorick and his Morals. He is a very Obscure Metaphysitian, be­cause he handled such matters as are beyond the reach of Humane Under­standing, and thought it not enough to say that every thing was this or that by a various Texture, but would needs further enquire into the Pro­perties of the compounding parts, whether they were Finite, or Infinite, obnoxious to an endless division, or not, &c. Thus he proposeth to us palpable, and intelligible difficulties, but very obstruse, mysterious, and unsatisfactory solutions.

What I have said of the Antients, I may likewise say of our Modern Wits. For there are but few of 'em eminent in every thing, and most of [Page 180] them eminent in nothing. But I must not end this Section without gi­ving you some rational account of this unevenness observable in most may Authors. First then we have re­course to that common answer to all such difficulties, the limitation of humane Capacity; but because this is too general, I shall say something no less to the purpose, and more particular. I may be allowed then to say in Second Instance, that our own indiscretion is commonly the cause of this disorder: For as we never write wittily, but when our Imagination is exalted to a certain degree of heat, destructive to our cold dulness; so when our Spirits are spent by a long and serious ap­plication, it would then prove a piece of prudence in us to lay aside our Pen, and meditate no more on the Subject till we recover our lost Spirits, and first vigour. I believe Vigil kept this Precept, since he spent neer Thirty years in the com­posure [Page 181] of his Poem; but our Folly is such, that black paper we must, though our Soul be not able to act its part, because of the supposed want of Necessary Instruments, furnishing us with as lively Idea's as before. Which fancyful Humour I appre­hend to be the true Cause, why we write not always so well as really we could have done, if we had bro­ken off our work till the return of our better temper and disposition. Whereof I find a not unfit Analogy in a Subject somewhat like to that we now treat of. I see no other cause of the great difference as to Wit among Children of the same Pa­rents, but because the latter observe not the fittest times for the act of ge­neration, coming together, when their Seeds are either yet raw, or not so elaborated and spirituous, as is requisite. So if marryed People un­derstood the critical, and fittest Mi­nute for this duty of Marriage, or would contain themselves so long as [Page 182] they were not fit for it, they would undoubtedly be more satisfied with their Children, than some of them have reason to be; because I fancy the former would not be so unlike one another, as to the endowments of the Mind. We may proportiona­bly discourse at the same rate of our Spiritual Children, our Writings: They may all resemble one another in not unlike stains of Wit, if we manage our selves aright in conceiving of them.

1. IT may be thought not out of purpose to enquire in this place [Page 184] why some do speak ill and write well, and on the contrary, why o­thers speak well, and write ill. The difficulty I confess is considerable, and I am not fully resolved in the case. Yet it may be said that this proceeds from some of the different Characters of Wit we have spoken of elsewhere. For some are slow in conceiving, because, perhaps they have a too weak Understanding, and fear too much to be mistaken; so their utterance upon this account is very uneasie: and such speak their Thoughts so imperfectly, that one would think they had but a very su­perficial Understanding. Neverthe­less they are sometimes excellent Pen-Men, and the fittest Men in the World to appear in Print; because the uneasiness of their utterance comes rather from a certain wariness, and Weakness perhaps too of the Imagination, than from any real de­fect of Judgement. But as for those that speak well, and write ill; if by [Page 185] this expression we mean that some do speak great Sense, who cannot write sensefully; I think I may be allowed to say, that there is no such thing possible. For whosoever can speak Sence, I know not why he may not likewise couch it upon Paper, if he please. But if perchance we understand by speaking well and wittily, a certain facility, easiness of expression, the Volubility of the Tongue, or a certain show of Elo­quence without either great Sence, or acuteness, there are I confess, many half-witted Men, and more yet of the Weaker Sex that speak well, though they write not wittily, because of the shallowness of their Judgement, which is rather a help than a hindrance to their talkative humour; especially if they have, as commonly they want it not, any quickness of Fancy. For such Peo­ple, 'tis no less useless to prescribe Rules of writing wittily, than to teach Fools how to speak to the pur­pose.

[Page 186]2. The first Precept then of this art, I conceive to be no other but the consideration of the Subject we are to treat of. We must in the first instance consider if it be not perhaps, beyond the reach of our Abilities: For, Non omnia possumus omnes, Nec om­nis fertomnia tellus, there are but very few equally capable of every thing; Was not Cicero the Prince of Orators, but had no inclination towards Po­etry, wherein Ovid was eminent; who again had no other considera­ble Talent we know of. The latter had proved, I fancy, a very ordina­ry, and less perhaps than an ordina­ry Writer of Plea's, and the former but a dull, uneasie and constrained Poet. Our first Study then must be of our selves, and of our Genius, to know, Quid valeant Humeri, quid ferre recusant, what we are really ca­pable of. If then perhaps we are sen­sible of our fitness for any Science whatsoever, we may be the more daring to write our thoughts indif­ferently [Page 187] upon any Subject: But this we cannot certainly know without a frequent Tryal of our Capacity. How­ever, 'tis most certain there is still one thing we are fitter for, than for any other, and to this we must ap­ply our selves more particularly: but it may be here enquired, how shall we know what Nature has made us chiefly for? I answer, First, almost after the same manner that we know our Vocation, or Call to any State of life, as to a marryed, or single life; by the very inclination we find in us to this, or that kind of Study, which not being given to us in vain, must needs be a sign of our fitness to suc­ceed therein. I answer Secondly, whatever we do with greatest faci­lity, that undoubtedly we are born to. Thus if I conceive more easily whatever depends upon Figure, shape and Proportion; or if I can make a Mathematical Demonstration with less difficulty than a Verse, or a Poem; I shall rather apply my self to Mathe­maticks than to Poetry.

[Page 188]3. Now having found out by the foregoing Method what I may with best success undertake, I must then follow these particular Rules, and Precepts that regard the Subject I write of. But my chief care shall be to peruse often those that I know certainly to be eminent in that Art, or Science I apply my self to: Thus if I mind to write natural Philosophy, I shall consult the English Philosopher, Boyle, or the Famous Verulam. Yet without any design to plunder or pillage them, for I know nothing more destructive to the improve­ment of Wit, than the stealing hu­mour of some Writers, who some­times make great Volumes of other Mens Labours; which is not so much always a sign of their incapacity, as of their Lazyness, and mistrust of their own Abilities; if we can be at the pains but to think by our selves, and to write nothing but our own thoughts, we may perhaps become at length sensible by experience, that [Page 189] we are nothing inferiour to those, whose borrowed Wit we had made our own. 'Tis a great Commenda­tion of an Author, when it may be truly said, that what he writes is not borrowed, which is not so to be understood, as if he should write always things never any dreamt of before him; for this is impossible, since the Beaux Esprits must needs sometimes jump together by chance, as to the Substance, though not as to the Tour, and manner of Wri­ting. My meaning is, that an ingenious Man ought not to copy out any mans Works, but write his own Thoughts and Meditations, as if he were alone in the World without the help of Books. I know no Author in this Age so much searcht into as the Fa­mous Robert Boyle, and by such as enrich their works with his ingeni­ous contrivances though they are neither so civil, nor so grateful, as to make an Honourable mention of him. Takenius has been more guilty [Page 191] of this fault than any other that I know of. But to return to what I was saying, how can we ever improve that Wit God perhaps has bestow­ed upon us in a larger measure than we are aware of, if we never make use of it, or exercise it, which we do not, though we write every year a Volume, so long as we are meer Transcribers, and not true Authors. As the French do frequently reproach this to the Germans, so they say com­monly, Qu'un livre d' Allman, cest un livre on il n'y a rien de l' autheur, That there is nothing in a Germans Book, of the Author, but his Name. Which I confess ingenuously not a few of that Nation to be guilty of. But yet whilst they put other Mens pro­ductions in room of their own, which perhaps would prove as good, if not better then theirs, they are so just as to name the Authors with proportionable Elogiums; upon which account I look upon them as publick and profest Robbers, ra­ther [Page 190] than subtile Thieves, which I take to be the Character of the French Writers, who steal wherever they meet with any thing that may serve their turn, and returning no ac­knowledgement to the Author from whom they take they will cunningly, & wittily too, pretend they have some reason not to acknowledge the theft, as being moulded now into another frame and shape; which some of them do to the very deceiving of the Author himself at the first view: and this I reckon to be the height of the French Wit, as scarce reaching to the invention of any thing, but perhaps of new modes: For this Nation is now so us'd to plunder, and pillage their Neighbours, that if they lay aside what they have stoln out of Spanish, Italian, German and English Books, what is properly their own, would not make a very large Volume.

4. Being then fully resolved to be Authors, rather than either Rob­bers with the Germans, or Thieves [Page 192] with the French; we shall conceive first a general design, whereunto all the particulars of the piece must be either directly, or indirectly related: But though I esteem a mean Author more than either a German Robber, or a French Thief; yet I do allow those following uses of other Mens Labours: First I may, and ought to peruse them for the quickning of my fancy, and for the acquiring of what we call, a Style, or an accurate and polite elocution; not that we ought to borrow their witty Words, Leurs bons mots: For 'tis better to utter our selves in our own language, than to speak in other Mens terms: But my meaning is, that the perusal of what they have written, whether it regard our Subject or not, may by heightning our Imagination, hinder us from a too flat way of writing. Thus if I mind to write an Elegy, I [...]hall first run over some choice piece [...]f Ovid, or one of his more polite [...]etters. It will be useful to read [Page 193] some Passages of Cicero, Virgil, Livy, &c. before I undertake to write a Latine Oration, an History, or Poem. The same advice is to be fol­lowed, what Language soever we write in, whether it be French or En­glish. If the Authors we peruse have written upon the same Subject, we must endeavour to improve what they have said, or confute their Er­rors that deserve to be taken notice of: wherein we are to take heed a­bove all things not to be too posi­tive, as if we pretended to demon­strate every thing we say; for this would betray us to be none of the most knowing sort: For I think it no Paradox to say, that the very things we are sure of, and hold for undoubted Truths, we can no more prove by the Light of an undeniable Demonstration, than what we look upon as meer Opinions, and uncer­tain Conjectures. For since I know nothing but by the help of my falli­ble, and often failing Senses; how [Page 194] do I know but I am impos'd upon by the very things I think, I touch, I feel, I hear. This affirmative way of debating may be allowed in the Schools, where the conceived infalli­bility of the Masters is necessary, both for gaining and conserving their Credit among their Scholars; but it must be avoided, cane pejus & angue, above all things by a sober, witty and judicious Writer. This necessary mo­deration is observable every where in the Works of the renowned Boyle: I do certainly believe he thinks more before he says, such a thing perhaps is, than others do before they positive­ly affirm, it is undoubtedly so.

5. Obscurity is another defect we must be careful to shun, since, prima virtus orationis perspicuitas est, the chief and most necessary Ornament of any discourse, is it perspicuity and clearness. I have a very ill opinion of a mans Capacity, when whatever he writes is a mistery to the Under­standing sort: Yet I shall be so far [Page 195] favourable to the Chymists, as to think there may be some real secrets, and Mysteries known only to them­selves, which they will not reveal to others. But I must beg their Par­don, if I incline more to believe their affected Obscurity to be nothing else but a Childish vanity, or rather a specious Nonsence, proposed to the World in obscure Terms, in order to gain Credit among the ig­norant sort of Men, who commonly admire nothing more than what they least understand. This defect is just­ly reproacht by the New Philoso­phers to the Peripateticians, and to A­ristotle himself, especially in his defi­nitions where perspicuity is most ex­pected, and is most necessary.

I shall instance some few examples for proof of what I say. If then you ask Aristotle the nature of what we call a quality, he shall give you in­stantly this misterious definition, Qualitas est aqua quales quidam dicun­tur. I know not how either to En­glish, [Page 196] or make sense of this obscure Notion; but 'tis all one as if you had defin'd white to be that whereby we are made white. I am sure every ration­al Man understands better what move­ment is, than its definition given by Aristotle, Actus entis in potentia qua­tenus in p [...]tentia, which besides its ob­scurity, far beyond that of the thing it intends to clear, is, First, such a piece of Nonsence, that I defie any man in the World to make intelligible English of it, without a large Comment; and Secondly, it contains an evident con­tradiction in adjecto, as they speak, in the very terms: Since the former words, astus entis in potentia, are al­together inconsistent with the latter, Quatenus in potentia. Locus, or place, we undoubtedly conceive better, than what Aristotle saith, in order to furnish us with a clear Notion there­of: For I thought always I under­stood in some measure what it was, till I heard Aristotle call it, Superficies prima acris ambientis immobilis, the [Page 197] immoveable surface of the ambient Air. Now my weak head is full of endless doubts, and I understand no more what I understood some thing of before, by its own self-evidence; for first I understand not how the sur­face of the Air is immoveable: Se­condly, I know not why a Body a Stone, for instance, in vacuo, should be no where, because it is not sur­rounded with Air. I apprehend Thirdly, the Natural place of every thing to be nothing else but the Ima­ginary and immoveable space that it fills with its three Dimensions, depth, breadth and length, which Aristo­tle's definition makes no mention of.

I shall say nothing of that other Notion of his relating to Time, which he calls, Motus secundum prius & po­sterius, that is literally, and verba­tim, a movement according to what is before, and according to what is behind, what more clear? Auditum admissi risum teneatis amici. But to speak ingenuously; all this argues [Page 198] no defect of Capacity in Aristotle, but only betrays him to be guilty of attempting I shall not say preten­ding to give us exact definitions of things that are above the reach of Humane Capacity; such as Time, Place, Movement, &c. because they are primary Principles, whereof we may give perhaps, some imperfect Descriptions, but no true Noti­ons.

We are not only to shun obscurity in our definitions, which ought to be always self-evident to any man, understanding the terms they are conceived in, but likewise in every particular Word, and Sentence, if it can be avoided. For I take it to be a vulgar, and a silly error, that great Wits are commonly obscure, miste­rious and cloudy; because, as I am fully perswaded that perspicuity is the chief, and most necessary Orna­ment of our Discourse, so I conceive it to be the best Character of a true Wit. We must then give to what­ever [Page 199] we write, all the Evidence, and plainess the Subject can bear, which we shall perform the more easily, if we shun with all possible care a too great multitude of superfluous Repe­titions, as likewise Subjects, that are not only hard to be understood, but which no Humane Capacity can compass. A too great affectation of harsh and hard Words, of far fetcht Expressions is justly condemned by the Polite and wittiest sort of Writers: For since Words are the Images of our thoughts, we must make choice of those that are their best represen­tatives. Whatever then is made use of in common discourse by such as speak well, and naturally, that is fittest for us to make choice of. Thus our Style shall be smooth, natural and easie, without either obscurity, or that misterious Nonsense that some weak Heads naturally incline to; and is termed by the French, du Ga­limathias. But I know nothing that may contribute more towards the [Page 200] clearness, and smoothing of our dis­course, then a fit and ingenious com­parison, not more insisted on than is necessary, nor too frequent. The English Philosopher, I mean the Fa­mous Boyle, understands better than any I ever yet read, the art of illu­strating, and proving too, what he affirms by witty and natural compa­risons. As his Style is every where smooth and clear; I know no better Master of natural Philosophy, not only upon the account of his Doctrine and ingenious Solutions of the grea­test difficulties, but likewise for his extraordinary perspicuity and clear­ness.

1. SOme, who make it their whole business to inveigh against Women, though perhaps they be not quite out of conceit with them, may be apt to think that they are rather [Page 202] naturally wilful, than Witty; be­cause, perhaps, they were made of one of Adams Bones, and not of his Brains; yet 'tis certain they may claim a just right to it as well as Men, and sometimes to wisdom too; The coldness of their Temper is no argu­ment to me of their stupidity or dul­ness; for besides, that the melancholly, though cold, are commonly ingeni­ous, This suppos'd coldness of their temper is often corrected by such a degree of heat, as may improve them into real Wits. Their Bodies, I confess, are not of so close a texture as those of Men, as being both sof­ter, and more moist: But in all this I see nothing inconsistent with their being really witty. And if we are not convinced as yet of this self-evi­dent truth by reason, daily experi­ence may easily clear all our doubts. Speak they not to the purpose in a familiar converse, and as good Sense as most Men; yea, some of them can act the Philosophers part, com­pose [Page 203] Books, and write Verses too, not very impertinently. And if we will speak our mind impartially, they have somewhat more of a suddain, and extemporary▪ Wit than Men themselves, who can speak Sence, but after Meditation; whereas they talk sometimes to the purpose, without being at the pains of much thinking. Shall we doubt of their acuteness, if we reflect but a moment upon their quick Reparties, in certain Rencounters, where in Men are like Equus, & Asinus quibus non est intel­lectus, as dumb as Beasts: And if the beauty of the Soul be proportiona­ble to that of the Body; we have reason to think that as they exceed our Sex in the former, so they have some considerable advantage over us in the latter too, whereof they give sometimes but too certain proofs by circumventing, and imposing up­on the Greatest Head pieces amongst Men; which is nothing else but an ill use of a very good thing, their [Page 204] Wit. Sampson could neither be over­come, nor out-witted by the Philistins, but subtiler Dalila put a cheat upon him, that cost him at last his life. Solomon was the wisest Man of the Age he lived in, yet he was prevai­led upon by the forcible perswasions of his Concubines to adore false Gods. Abigail with a short Harrangue triumph'd over David's warlike re­solutions. And Adam himself could not resist the Rethorick of his Wife Eve, but submitted to her as to his Master. So true it is that Women have out-witted the greatest men in all ages, and for ought I know, the World turns yet round at their dis­cretion. But nothing sheweth more their Wit, than their subtile man­agement of intrigues, whether of Love or Revenge; for they can dis­semble better than Hypocrisie it self, and put what Face they please upon their Secret, and real Designs. I shall set down here on this occasion what happened in France not many years [Page 205] ago, as being a true Fact, and no Romance; though because of the oddness of the thing, it looks some­what like one.

2. When the French King invaded Holland in the year 72. if I misremem­ber not, the Nobility, as 'tis usual on such occasions, followed him by his express Comand from all parts of the Kingdom: A Gentleman of a mean Fortune, but of Good Paren­tage, in obedience to his Soveraign, and besides incouraged by a promise of some considerable Preferment, resolved to leave his Lady, being marryed but Three Months before, and to hazard his life for the increase of his small Fortune. But whether he was not very Ʋxorious, or which I am more apt to believe, had bin wholly taken up with Military Af­fairs, he never in the space of Five years absence inform'd her once what condition he was in. She began then to suspect him killed in some rencounter. But all her doubts [Page 206] were at length cleared by a Letter she received from one of his intimate Friends, who was very well infor­med of his continual Silence all the while of this long absence. He as­sured her then by his Letter of her Husbands death, because he judged his recovery out of a Distemper he was then in, impossible. He added, that he was coming to present her with her Husbands Diamond Ring, as a part of his last Will, and a mark of his most sincere Love and Affection to­wards her: And accordingly not thinking that his Friend could reco­ver▪ sets forward for France. He failed not at his arrival to present the Lady with the Ring, and at the same time with his Sevice, if perchance she dislik't him not, as he profest he did not dislike her. She seem'd, as Women commonly do upon such oc­casions, to be somewhat shy at first, and surprized at his unexpected offer. But weary now of a solitary Life, and fearing she should not meet with [Page 207] so good an opportunity again, she thought it a piece of Prudence to lay hold on it; and so being at her Li­berty, as she thought, she engaged within a few days to this Second Hus­band; who not using her near so kindly, as the first, though, as it shall appear hereafter, she never really lo­ved him neither; she began to wish for a change, and that it would please God to rid her of this Husband as he had already delivered her of the First when he recovering unexpe­ctedly out of that Distemper, his Friend, but now his Rival, had left him in without any hopes of recove­ry, comes on a suddain home, not knowing any thing of his wifes se­cond Marriage. Being soon infor­med of the whole matter, and how innocently it had happened on her side, he appeared to be somewhat satisfied, and told her that he wa [...] ready to live with her again, if sh [...] was willing to part with her presen [...] Husband, and however that the Law [Page 208] would right him in this case. It was accordingly ordered that she should leave her second Husband, and re­turn to the first again, wherewith she appeared to be well satisfied, be­cause of her hard usage from her se­cond Husband: They liv'd then a­while together very contentedly, and he doted on her more than ever he did when he was first marryed: She failed not to use him likewise with all imaginable kindness, which so gain'd his heart, that he could not cross her in any thing; yea, not in such things as were neither lawful nor allowa­ble. As he was still highly concer­ned if any thing should displease her, or put her in a melancholly temper, he inquired of her one day why she appeared to be somewhat dejected; how can I be other, replyed she, since I know certainly that you are in a greater danger then ever you was in the Holland Wars, because my second pretended Husband, as I am credibly inform'd, is resolved to [Page 209] murther you, that he may enjoy me again. I hear indeed he is going for Burgundy, but I know he will make but a short stay there. So you may easily judge, that loving you as tenderly as I do, I shall never have a moment of Rest either by Night or Day, till I be rid of my too well grounded fear, by preventing some­way this designed blow, which at once would kill two, and be the occasion of a deserved, though shameful death to a third, the Exe­cutioner himself, your Rival: Her Husband being extreamly surprised at this discourse, knew not what to re­solve upon; but being near concern'd in the case, and loving her more than his life, he took a suddain resolution to do whatever she would put him upon. This subtile Lady taking no­tice of this yielding humour he was in, spoke to him thus again, or to this effect; you seem to be in doubt what you have to do: You must then re­solve, for I know your Rivals Hu­mour, [Page 210] and there is no middle, either to kill or be killed, and all wise men, methinks, will prefer the former be­fore the latter: Now because I cannot suffer you to expose your self to the least hazard, I shall furnish you this Night with the fittest Opportunity that can be devised of doing your self, and me too, a most important piece of Service. Your Rival then will come about Six of the Clock, as he hath given me notice by a Letter, to take his leave of me be­fore his departure for Burgundy; which civility I shall not only admit, but invite him likewise in your pre­sence to Supper, under pretence of a pretended Reconciliation to be made up between him and you. The Gen­tleman comes as he had promis'd, and yielded with all his heart to their Ci­vil offers, being now almost fully perswaded, that as in Holland, and Flanders he had had all things in Common with his Friend, this jun­cture would furnish him with an [Page 211] overture to the like privacy at home, which was all that he either aim'd at, or car'd for. Before the Gentleman came to take his leave of the Lady, they had contrived, and agreed upon the manner of his Death, which was to press upon him several Healths, and when he should be almost insen­sible of what was doing about him, to dissolve some Strong and Heady Soporifick in his Wine, that so they might the more easily strangle him, the Servants being first dispatcht out of doors upon pretended Errants. The murther thus executed without resistance or noise; the Lady took after this manner her measures for concealing this horrid fact, and hi­ding the Body from the eyes of the World. She desired her Husband to take it upon his shoulders, while she would bear up the Legs upon hers for his greater ease in carrying it. Thus they went quietly along toge­ther about Midnight by a back door through the Garden, straight to the [Page 212] River that wash't the very walls thereof: But as they were thus in their March, the Lady tyed dexte­rously in more than one part, the dead Mans Cloaths with those of her living Husbands, which he, as being intent upon the compleating of the business, could neither mistrust, nor be sensible of. They were come near to the River, when she told him to go as near as he could, and being now upon the very brink of the precipice, she most un­mercifully thrust him over, and so both headlong down together into the River. Thus she got her self rid of both her Husbands at once, whom it seems she had equally dis­lik't. It may be yet somewhat to my purpose to tell you, that being returned home, she made a great stir among her Servants, as if she had known nothing of the matter, and ask't them often if they had not met with her Husband and the other Gen­tleman, for that she fear'd they had [Page 213] challenged one another, and had gone to some remote place agreed upon, to put an end by the Sword to their old Quarrels: But though this was for a while the general opi­nion of the Town, the two Bodies being found two Months after by some Fisher-men bound together, and the Lady being upon suspicion ap­prehended, and according to the Laws of that Country, in such doubt­ful cases, threatned with extraordi­nary Tortures, if she would not confess her crime: She made at length a full discovery of the whole matter: And suffered by the order of the Ju­stice what she had well deserved an, infamous Death.

3. Let us make here but this one reflection: Could there be a greater wickedness than this, and at the same time a greater abuse of Wit; where­by we see clearly that this weaker Sex has nothing of real Weakness when they resolve upon a design, whether bad, as this was, or good, as that [Page 214] of Judith, who in my judgement cheated not Holofernes so subtilely out of his life, as this Woman did her two Husbands out of theirs.

I pretend not by this discourse to puff Women up with Pride, for they are but too proud already; my de­sign only is to show that they ought not to be undervalued by Men, as if they were little better than Fools, and had no kind of real Wit; since their very Malice and Tricks do de­monstrate the contrary. But never­theless, though it may be allowable to call some Women fine Wits, because of some peculiar vivaci­ty they are gifted with; yet few of them can pretend to be great Wits, such a Character requir­ing a constant temper of the Soul, which they, because of their changeable humour, are not capable of. I shall not perhaps be justly sty­led impertinent, if I say, that since Wit depends most upon the perfecti­on of our Souls, they have not received [Page 215] from God so perfect Souls as Men, be­cause by Gods special appointment they are to obey, and Men to com­mand; they are to be Servants, and Men their Masters: Now 'tis conformable to the Wisdom of that all wise being, that as they are inferiour to us by the condition of their State, so they should be likewise far short of Men, as to the innate endowments of the Mind. Yet I deny not but that God may, and does sometimes lodge a Soul of the First Hierarchy, I mean a most perfect one in a Womans body; but this is not usual, and seldom hap­pens, but when he pleases to make choice of Women to rule over great Empires, and whole Nations, which hinders not the generality of them, from falling far short of those emi­nent abilities that men are deserved­ly esteemed for. I conceive the French to be more sensible of the truth of this Doctrine than most o­ther Nations, because by their Salick Law, Women can claim no right a­mong [Page 216] them to the Soveraign com­mand. I shall not say, it would per­haps, prove to our great advantage, to put the same affront upon them by giving place to this Law amongst us; but sure I am that England would be no more a Purgatory for Men, as it is commonly said to be, and would not cease neither to be a Paradise for Women, if the Salick Law were once established in every private House and Family of this Kingdom.

I Conceive no Art so hard to compass, as that which makes [...] true Physitian; Divinity it self [...]ompared to it is but a Play: For one may be a not insufficient Divine, if [...]e can but discourse probably of that may be understood in our my­mysteries, [Page 218] and confess by an humble belief his ignorance of whatever is beyond the reach of his Capacity, whereby I mean that the most intri­cate difficulties and misteries of the Cristian Religion may be easily sur­mounted by a blind submission of our Understandings unto Gods ob­scure Revelation. But whether I consider the Speculative, or practi­cal part of Physick, I meet everywhere with insupe [...]ble difficulties. I represent first to my self whatever is contained in the Three Kingdoms, not of England, Scotland and Ire­land only, but of Three of a far larger extent, the Mineral, the Ve­getative, and the Animal: And on a suddain I fall into despair of ever understanding to the botttom the least thing they contain: I can scarce fiv in my dull head the very names of Metals, Minerals, Plants and A­nimals; and far less their infinite Poperties, and Medicinal uses. Re­flecting again upon our corruptibel [Page 219] Bodies, my Thoughts are put to a stand, when I am prest to give a rational account either of their tem­pers, or distempers. Yet if I pretend to be but an ordinary Physitian, I must have a sort of comprehensive Knowledge of this Engine, our Soul moves, and of all its particular Mo­tions; which being upon several ac­counts an insuperable difficulty, what wonder if the ablest Physitians mistake not only sometimes a mans distemper, but which is of a worse consequence, take sometimes one for another: Because two different Di­seases may have such an affinity in their Symptoms, that they can pre­tend to no infallibility in distingui­shing them. On the other side, when I consider the obscure Origine of most Distempers, I am quite out of hu­mour with the Practice of Physick. I may but too easily mistake that, without the Knowledge of which I cannot cure my Patient, the true cause of his disease; yea, I wonder [Page 220] how any Man dare venture to study Physick, if he peruse but a moment Hypocrates his first Aphorism, Vita longa, ars brevis, occasio celeris, experi­mentum difficile, judicium periculosum, Our life is too short, and the Art is of an infinite extent, the occasion gives us easily the slip; the Experi­ence is hard, doubtful and dange­rous, and it is not easie to discern well, either the Remedies, or the Distempers: We can have then but little certainty of the Cure, especi­ally if we take notice of what fol­lows in the same Aphorism, Oportet autem non modo seipsum exhibere quae oportet facientem, sed etiam aegrum ac praesentes, & externa, that the Pati­ents Recovery depends not only up­on the Physitians care and skill, but no less upon the Patient himself, who must contribute towards his own cure by an exact submission, and scrupulous performance of what he is order'd to do, take, or observe. And besides, all our endeavours are [Page 221] useless, if those that wait upon him do not their Duty, or if perchance those things that the Old Man calls external, and are without us, as whol­som food, good air, &c. be wan­ting. Out of all this discourse I raise the same inference that made my first proposition in the begin­ning of this Section, That there is no small difficulty to become a good Physitian; yet on the other part, one would think that there is no­thing more easie, because of the great number of Physitians to be met with every where, whom we know in all other respects to be but meer Blockheads. If the Knowledge of Physick were a thing so hard to at­tain to, and beyond the common reach, could either a Taylor, or a Shoemaker, and the rest of the un­learned Tribe practice Physick, as able and Famous Doctors. I confess if there were no more required to be a Physitian than what the less un­derstanding sort, or the Mobile con­ceives [Page 222] to be necessary, the whole World might soon be turn'd into a Colledge of Physitians: It is not then the Knowledge of a Receit, or two not unsuccessful on some, or several occasions that give us right to this honourable Tittle, nor the art of making up this or that Physical Composition, unless we will foolishly reckon up old doting Wives, and Apothecaries Prentices, with the ablest Doctors. Yea, I maintain it to be no Paradox to say, that a man may comprehend perfectly the whole Materia medica, and an hundred good Remedies against every parti­cular Distemper, and yet prove a very insignificant, and ignorant Physitian too. Because the chief Se­cret of Physick consists not in the goodness of the Remedy, but in the due application thereof, with regard to time, place, the Temper of the Patient, and other Circum­stances. Who understands this, and no other, is a true Physitian, as be­ing [Page 223] capable to cure the worst di­stempers, by not very odd, nor far fetcht Remedies. Whether there be any Panicea's, or universal Re­medies against all sort of distempers, I shall not here examine; but sure I am that Opium perhaps for diminish­ing of pain excepted; there are no such found as yet: and though there were any of this Latitude, I would still look upon them as meer Instruments that may miscarry by the unskilfulness of those that handle them. I am then sensible that seve­ral are quite mistaken, when they complain that such a Remedy did wrong their Bodies, or increase their Distempers, whereas the Physitian only is to be blamed; who, tho' he prescribed a thing in it self very good, neither understood the criti­cal Minute it was to be given in, nor his Patients constitution, nor other Circumstances which we must needs take notice of, else we may prescribe the best remedies to no [Page 224] purpose. A Physitians Wit then ly­eth not in framing modish Receits, and prescribing a numberless num­ber of Remedies, whether Chimi­cal, or Galenical, but in a certain pra­ctical judgement, which is not got in the Universities, of applying what is fittest for the cure of the Distem­per, with regard to time, place, the strength of the Patient, and o­ther Circumstances. I look there­fore upon such as sell Secrets against all sorts of distempers, to be meer Cheats; because if their Remedies be indeed Panacea's, or Universal, this Character I allow not to be in­trinsecal to them, but meerly extrin­secal, as derived from the practical Judgement of such as prescribe them successfully, which as they cannot sell, nor communicate, neither can they either sell, or communicate their Secret: Hence we may con­clude what a piece of imprudence, or rather madness it is, to take Re­medies from the hands of meer Em­pricks, [Page 225] without the advice of some Judicious Physitian; because, as I was saying lately, our recovery de­pends not so much upon the good­ness of the Remedy, as upon a due application thereof. For we are taught both by reason, and experi­ence, that we may either kill or cure with the same Remedy diffe­rently applyed, and to different Subjects, or not in the same Circum­stances.

1. ONe would think that there is no great Wit, nor no very much art neither, in making of a good Translation; but how far they are deceived, we may easily conjecture by the infinite number of [Page 227] bad Translations done in this City: For as an Ingenious Gentleman did lately observe, some of the Transla­tors understand not the Language they Translate from, others under­stand not the Language they Tran­slate into, and others again under­stand not the Subject they translate: What wonder then if they fall not only often very short of the Origi­nal, but besides furnish the World with such imperfect Copies, as may ruine the repute of the Authors, in the judgement of those that know them not. I conceive then, and re­quire in a ingenious Translator such parts, as I fear we shall meet with but in a very small Number. We must not then think that a man is qualified to make, for Instance, a good En­glish Version out of French, because he has stayed a year or two, or if you please, some years in France, unless he understand the very Cri­ticisim, and Tour of the Language, which can scarce be attained to [Page 228] but by those who have been bred up from their greener years among the Politest sort of that Na­tion; and besides, have made good use of their time by writing, spea­king, conversing, reading, and all such exercises as are the fittest for acquiring the perfect Knowledge of any Language. 'Tis then a piece of Simplicity in some Booksellers to make their application for the Tran­slating of French Books, to such as have been but a year or two in France, or which is yet worse, have never stirr [...]d from home; tho' I grant they may by their private Study understand in some mea­sure the French Tongue, yet I am sure that they never conceive aright the whole Energy, Pith and Delicacy of the Phrase; the know­ledge whereof is so necessary, that without it, the version cannot but be very imperfect, and to the disadvan­tage of the Author. Most of those [...]hat translate Novels being sensible [Page 229] of their insufficiency as to this part, pass by, and supply what they un­derstand not by some irregular Fancy of their own, and sometimes not very much fitted for the pur­pose. I conceive then the Art of Translating to be like unto that of Portraying. He is a very mean Painter, who can but represent the meer Lineaments, and external Shape of a Mans Face. The chief Secret of this Art consists in draw­ing to life the very Soul it self; I mean, in representing the very Air, Temper, Humour and Complection. For a Man is not drawn to Life, un­less the most habitual indisposition of his Soul shine in the Piece. So I may proportionably say, to turn French into flat English precisely, is not beyond the reach of the meanest Capacity; but it is a piece of harder work than the unexperienc'd are a­ware of, to represent the Original to life: This requires, besides a ripe Judgement, an extraordinary quick­ness [Page 230] of the Imagination, with an easie and ingenious utterance. And here I think it is not amiss to enquire in which of the two languages the Translator ought to excel, whether in that he translates from, or in that he translates into. I think it then no paradox to assert a perfect Knowledge of the former to be more necessary than that of the lat­ter: my reason is, because if I under­stand never so well the Tour, for instance, of the English; this will a­vail me but little, if I comprehend not that of the French likewise toge­ther with its whole Energy and Pith, for without this foresaid Knowledge I shall never be able to make a true and Natural Copy of the Original, how Politely soever I do write in English. For a good English Ver­sion consists not in the goodness of the Language, absolutely considered in it self, but respectively to the O­riginal, which it must represent and equal, if possible, in all Sense. On [Page 231] the other side, though I understand not so eminently the Language the Version is done into, yet if I be Ma­ster of the Language the Orignal is written in, I shall be capable of tran­slating it exactly and well. For in this case I shall be sensible of the least expression that shall fall short of my Author, and so with a little more application I may reach him at length by changing the Phrase or Ex­pression, which is not very uneasie to do, till comparing the Original with the Copy, I find them nothing inferiour to each other, or rather as near as possibly they can be. A good Translator then may in so me respect be as much esteemed, as the Author himself: For sure I am that sometimes the ingenious sort find it a harder Task to translate, than to write, or to invent themselves; be­cause it is easier, no doubt, to ex­press our own thoughts, then those of other Mens, which are often none of the clearest. Their obscurity [Page 232] sometimes prove a lawful excuse for our mistakes, but we can, un­der no pretence, shun a just and de­served confusion, if through our own ignorance we quite abuse and misre­present our Authors. I fear he was of this number who translated, Le pont Euxine, the Euxine Bridge, in lieu of the Euxine or Black Sea, be­tween Moeotis and Tenedos, as also that other, who translates thus the receit of an eminent Physitian, Re­pulveris panonici Rubri, &c. take of the Powder of Red Cloath Two Ounces, as if Panonicus was derived from the Latine Word Pannus, Cloath, and not from Pannonia, the name of a Country.

3. I shall in this place take notice of what but few perhaps reflect up­on, that as the living Languages of Europe are but Jargons compared to the Latine, so all Books done out of French, Spanish, Italian, &c. in­to Latine by an accurate, and Polite Pen, and in a true and Natural Style, [Page 23] are always far beyond the Origi­nal: because this Language carry­eth along with it a certain Energy that no other reacheth. I shall give you a proof of what I say by transla­ting these ensuing Verses to demon­strate to you the wide difference be­tween those two Languages. The Four first were penn'd by a Man more esteemed by some than he deserves. The Answer was made by an Emi­minent Virtuoso, and a Famous Phi­losopher, of whom I have spoken several times in this Treatise.

[Page 236]Now compare the Original with the Version, and if you understand the one as well as the other, you shall, I doubt not, confess, that the latter as being more expressive than the former, offers to your thoughts a ful­ler Idea of the Authors meaning than they themselves could express in this inferiour Dialect.

I apprehend then Horace, Virgil, Ovid, and other Primitive Masters of the Latine Tongue to be wrong'd and weakned by the very best Translators, because they appear now in a Disguise, and under a borrowed Apparrel, and not so Majestical neither as they first appeared in. Yet if we undertake for the Common Good, such sort of Translations, we are to observe exact­ly this one Precept above all others, to express the full Sence of the Author, wit [...]out a too scrupulous regard to every particular Word and particle, unless it be judged material to the expressing of his intent, and meaning.