GEographers tell us that Alycia was once part of the Continent, and an­nexed to Ampelona by an Isthmus, or narrow neck of land, which the Waves by little and little have worn [Page 2] asunder, and rent it into an Island. Whether this be true or not, I will not enquire, nor take any further no­tice of that famous Country than may contribute some Ornament to this famous History of Eriander.

The Soil is mixt and various, but generally fruitful, abundantly stored with goodly Pastures, Medowes and Cornfields, divers parts adorned with several sorts of Trees, especially Oak, and Forrests of a large compass; here and there you may behold wast and far-extended Plains, which although to a transient observer they seem to import barrenness and poverty, yet they yield no small benefit to the in­dustrious Inhabitants, by maintaining numerous flocks of Sheep, (the grea­test riches of the Nation;) and some of them afford Mines, as of Iron, Tin, and Coal, so that Nature makes a­mends for the seeming barrenness by these Treasures which are locked up in the inner rooms of the earth. The air is mixt, and unconstant (as in all Islands,) but for the most part mild and temperate, not exceeding hot in Summer, nor immoderately cold in Winter.

[Page 7]The Inhabitants are generally well limb'd, of a proportionable stature, and of a comely visage, most of them gray eyed, cheerfull in deportment, free and true hearted in their Treat­ments, not treacherous in their enter­tainments, Courteous above other people to Strangers, respective to old men, and obsequious to their Prince, wherein I hope I have not mis-repre­sented them, the people in generall being ever Renowned for it; nor can the mischievous disloyalty of a few justly disparage a whole Nation. Islan­ders (say some,) have usually such va­riable humors, occasion'd by the chang­ablenesse of the Air, that no condi­tion will please them long, but repi­ning at the present, they are ever li­stening after some new constitution of affairs. I will not take upon me to confute this Observation, because I believe there's much of truth in it; nor were the Alycians altogether free from such a kind of unsettledness, who had sometimes been earnest to destroy themselves, by subverting their Government: but being made sensible of their error by many en­croaching [Page 4] mischeifs, (the only means to make the people either more wise, or at least lesse foolish,) they were at length happily reduced under the Government of Alcidruinus, who by a prudent and dexterous managing of his affairs very much corrected their instability.

Alcidruinus was a Prince so com­plete and absolute, as there wanted nothing to make him a valiant Com­mander in War, and a wise Governor in peace: The times he lived in put him to the tryall in both; the Wars he had occasion to be involved in were upon just and honorable grounds, the rescuing his Dominions from a sedi­tious and turbulent party, which had for many years enthralled them, and dispossest him of his Right, forcing him to seek for refuge in Forreign parts, a sad and dismall fate to the Nation, and as dismall to him; could his enemies have inherited their wishes as they did his Revenues; but God, who miraculously preserves whom he intends to blesse, raised up the dying hopes of the Nations, and by the con­duct of Pisistratus, a valiant and ex­pert [Page 5] Commander in the War, brought Alcidruinus to the Throne: who by this occasion had one advantage to enable him above other Princes, that besides the bountifull endowments of Nature, a stately body, majesticall, Countenance, powerfull Eloquence, and Heroick spirit, which he enjoyed in so high a degree, that whosoever was able truly to observe him, would judge him worthy of an Empire; be­sides his Princely Education, which he enjoyed in his Fathers Court, a pious and judicious (but unhappy) Prince: His prime years were exer­cised in adversity and hard encoun­ters, without which men seldom ar­rive at any eminent degree of virtue, no mans abilities are put to the tryal, or fully discovered, till he hath been proved in the occasions of good and evil: the way to honour lies through the confines of danger, and none is so happy as he that hath survived his miseries.

To give a true character of him is beyond my skill, and no part of my intention, yet meeting in my passage with so illustrious a person, good [Page 6] manners obliges me to afford him this respect. When this noble Prince was invested with his Regall Dignities, when War with many struglings and hard labour had brought forth peace, (A curst mother hath sometimes a quiet child) his care was to procure Alliance and friendship with neighbouring Na­tions, and Enact Laws for the safety of his own, in order to the establishing of these, he had the happiness to en­joy a loyall and true hearted Coun­cil, consisting of men of able parts and liberall education, the Nation had learned, by sad experience, that illiterate and inferiour persons were nimble and skilfull enough in demo­lishing, but very bunglers in erecting or supporting a Government.

I shall not recite either the Laws he made, or the acts he performed, which cannot be comprised in such a compasse as my thoughts have limited out for this whole story. Onely his prudent care and provision for the E­ducation of Children must not be past over in silence, being a thing so re­markable in a Prince. For whereas great persons usually take the least [Page 3] care for this, (though reason obliges them to take the greatest) he vouch­safed to suffer his care to condescend even to those, who though at present but useless, are yet the future hopes of a Nation, and his Successors Sub­jects in reversion, being assured that Education prudently established by Laws would by degrees make them so accustomed to vertuous deport­ments, that there should not need ma­ny Laws to restrain them from Vice: their own inclination would be so efficacious, as to conduct them to good­nesse. It's true, so long as there are men in the World there will be Vices, but where good Laws are established for habituating every one from his Cradle to industry and good manners before they know how to he lazy, or vitious, this is the certainest way to prevent (at least many) mischiefs, which neglected Education inevitably produces.

As for Schools (the Country being sufficiently stored in most places) he did not much increase their number, only he was pleased to commit the Government of them to prudent and [Page 8] virtuous persons, whom he dignified with peculiar favors and priviledges, to incourage them in that most use­full, but tedious) profession; which in other Nations is usually thrust up­on the most trivial and despicable part of men, and these commonly take it only for a shift, to be laid aside when better preferment falls; while those whom a liberall fortune raises to a good opinion of themselves, passe it by in scorn, and aspire at those higher professions, which are attended with more splendour and wealth. First, he provided that every man should bring up his Children to a Profession (only with some exception of Nobles and Gentlemen of ample Estates) so as he might serve his Country either as a Scholar, if he were found fit for any of the Liberall Sciences, or in some other profession usefull to the Nation, and suitable to his extraction and abilities. By this he nipt Idleness in the very bud, which wherever it prevailes is the ringleader of all Vi­ces, and the ruine of Families and Countries, being a great error in the politicks of some Nations, that by not [Page 9] securing and providing for the Edu­cation of their Youth, nor appointing every man to some service and im­ployment, they make them Thieves, or Vagabonds, and then are forced to hang them for being so.

2. Besides, such as were active and industrious (if depressed by poverty) were encouraged and assisted; and on the contrary, such as were able and skilfull, and yet refused to imploy themselves, were as surely punished.

3. And certain daies were appoint­ed for Sports and Recreations, a piece of prudent and cautelous pollicy. It's easie for any man to observe, (who hath not made his observation alrea­dy) that sedentary and melancholick persons, who are either by nature or custom averse from merriments and recreations, are inclined to malice, peevishness, discontent and envy; fit to devise villainy and mischiefe; and that sportive Recreations, with con­venient motion, clear his spirits, dis­sipate his dumpish and sullen humors, make him brisk and sociable, adap­tate him to love and kind heartedness, and therefore Alcidruinus prudently [Page 10] appointed such meetings, as a means to promote peace, procure hospita­lity and good Neighbourhood, beget friendship and alliance among the people, and prevent many mutinous discontents which retired and sullen thoughts might hatch in their work­ing brains.

Fourthly, but every man was not permitted to breed his son to Lear­ning, only such as were tolerated and approved of by Magistrates appoin­ted for that purpose: As to other Professions there was no such restri­ction, but in this, it was thought ne­cessary to prevent some inconveni­ences which the unwariness of former times had procured; as the pestering the Nation with insufficient Parsons, and the excessive number of Scholars, which had been found injurious to the publick. For when there is a grea­ter number than can be conveniently disposed of, some must of necessity misse of their aims, whereby they are oftentimes inclined to forge mischief, promote Factions, and undermine one another in the way to prefer­ment. Every man, he is parts never [Page 11] [...]o mean, after much time and cost [...]pent in a course of study, will grieve [...]o be deprived of some competent [...]eward of his labours, wherein if the [...]tate cannot satisfie his expectation, [...]s it happens where the number is too [...]reat, he may run into some extra­ [...]agant course to the hurt of his Coun­ [...]ry, but where a timely restraint is [...]ut upon men before they be far [...]ngaged in such a course, there's no great distast given; if any be taken, [...]t is better that the humors of a few [...]e crossed, than an inconvenience [...]hould arise to a Nation: Men of this profession, when they keep within [...]he bounds of moderation, being a great Ornament in a Commonwealth, [...]ut the most dangerous incendiaries, if upon any emergent occasion or di­ [...]tast they conspire against it.

5. All manner of laborious persons, whose imployment was remarkably advantageous, and conducible to the publick good, as Husbandmen, Smiths, Clothworkers, Carpenters, and such necessary Tradesmen, were especial­ly encouraged by peculiar immunities and priviledges.

[Page 12]6. Inferiour men, although not arri­ved at a considerable height of wealth, should not aspire to the title and dig­nity of Nobles or Gentlemen without speciall licence.

7. Certain Magistrates much re­sembling the Censors among the an­cient Romans, if they observe any man out of employment, who had not an estate sufficient to maintain him after the rate and degree of a Gen­tleman, had power to cause him ei­ther to betake himself to an agreeable profession, or distribute him to some publick service, as in the exercise of War either by Sea or Land, or the management of businesse in forraign plantations, yet so as it should be an advantage and credit to him, if he were not wanting to himself; not a punishment, as had been used by some cruell Usurpers formerly.

These and divers other Laws were Enacted by Alcidruinus, and not E­nacted only, but effectually and im­partially put in execution by a regu­lar and prudent discipline, without which Laws are as ineffectuall as the fond wishes of idle persons, who wish [Page 13] [...]hemselves at such a place, but through [...]aziness never advance a step forward [...]o come thither. Certain it is, that the Countrey flourished in this Prince his [...]ime, in plenty, peace, and strength of [...]ffection; and so neither had, nor nee­ded the use of such torturing Lawes, [...]s in divided States are altogether in [...]ashion, procured by some peevish, prevailing Faction, out of meer re­venge against their concurrents.

Eriander was born at Entaphia, an ancient City of the Caloturians in the Eastern part of Alycia; this City is seated in a very pure and delicate air, [...]ut the ground thereabout somewhat [...]nclining to barrenness; It was anci­ently beautified with a very stately Monastery, erected in honour of a Prince of that Province, who had suf­ [...]ered Martyrdom for the vindication of his Countrey and Religion. No­ [...]hing now remains of that but some ruinous walls, two lofty Gate-houses, [...]eading each of them into a spacious square Plat, in one of which there [...]tand two fair Churches, and of a com­petent bigness; from thence the City [...]limbs up a small Hill, with an easie [Page 14] ascent toward the West, whereby it gives a commodious prospect to such as travel over the Champion on the East-side: and here stood the Mansion house of Charinus, Father to Eriander, a House of a considerable bigness and fair, but built rather for use and de­cency than pomp and ostentation. The Furniture competently rich and suitable to the quality of his person; the Rules of Expence agreeable to his Estate, the Oeconomy grave and pru­dent; all things managed with order and decency.

His Mother was Timoclea, a Lady of an ancient and religious Family not far distant, who being dignified with a brave cleer spirit, allayed with a con­venient Modesty, a sound Judgment, sublime Vertue, and incomparable grace in her expressions, was highly valued by all that knew her. Nor did she want those exteriour Ornaments which might partly commend her to Charinus's choice: a rare beauty and becoming presence; her complexion was exactly and equally composed of White and Red; her Visage round, a light brown hair, with a cleer Eye, [Page 15] but fixt and steady. Although in this important affair of Marriage, (where­in he knew there was no redress to be procured by second thoughts; nor can a man erre twice as to the same adventure) I presume he used much circumspection, and prudently made virtue and Wisdom his principal aim, as being assured these would highly conduce to his own particular content, the repute of his Family, the support of his Estate, and (as far as humane prudence can secure men in such a matter) entail Wisdom and Vertue upon his Posterity; yet to say beauty had no share in his desires, were to re­present him either better or worse than Man: especially if we consider the time when he was affianced to Timo­clea, which was about thirty years of age, Timoclea not much less than eighteen.

Charinus (to give a brief, but true Character of him) was a person truly Religious, constant and resolute in the defence of the substantial principles of Religion, wherein all men (at least the wisest) were observed to agree; but lived altogether unconcerned in [Page 16] those vain and nice controversies, toy­ish and Phanatick Opinions, which were now and then devised by some busie and pragmatical brains, and re­commended to the giddy multitude; whose custom is to stare and admire at any thing that is new, soon love and soon dislike: their indiscretion (as ill as it is, yet) herein proves lucky; their beloved novelties, like Childrens Rattles, never please long; that Opi­nion which at one time is so fiercely asserted, that some would (only not) suffer Martyrdom, rather than disa­vow it, perhaps continues not in cre­dit one mans age, and Posterity will scarce vouchsafe to enquire after it. In the mean time a pious and truly-zealous man bestows himself in belie­ving in, and serving God, lives peace­ably and deals justly with all men, wherein the sum of true Religion is comprized, while unquiet spirits are miserably intangled in such endless controversies, as are of no importance to premote Religion, but very de­structive to the peace and charitable conversation of men. It is not impos­sible, but that the most pious and wise [Page 17] may, even in matters of Religion, have some fond erroneous and impertinent thoughts, such as are usually produced in a scattered and uncollected mind; but they are so far Masters of them­selves as to restrain them; they per­mit them not to arrive at any consi­derable growth: whereas men of smal knowledge, but great confidence, not onely give way to absurd Opinions, but (as men in some pestilent distem­pers are observed to do) eagerly at­tempt to propagate their contagion to the great disturbance of Man­kind.

Charinus in his gesture and deport­ment observed a becomming gravity, his garb decent, his countenance set­led and serious, not over sad and lowring, nor petulant and effeminate; the one usually passes for a token of self-conceit, the other of small wise­dom. His addresses as free from af­fected Complements, as rude blunt­ness; neither sneakingly meal-mouth'd, nor over-bold: his discourse was ever profitable and to the purpose, yet modest, and without any affectation of applause. A wise man's discourse [Page 18] is alwaies adorned with three remark-properties, Truth, Conciseness, and perspicuity. Lies and slanders are Vices incident to ignorant, peevish, and cowardly persons, who like que­rulous Curs make a noise at a distance, insult over the absent, and at hand pre­tend to lick them whole by some faint commendation, or shew of pity, mean­ing worst when they speak fairest. Multitude of words was ever suspect­ed as an instance of small wisedom; some that have but a scant stock of knowledge endeavour to dilate them­selves by multiplicity of words, as those that have shrimpish bodies and yet would fain appear proper men, eke them out by some advantagious dress. He that puts men to the trou­ble of guessing and his meaning, be­cause he speaks as if he meant not to be understood, or intended to be mis­taken, is not in this particular a wise man, but either a fool, or as ill.

However his actions and designs were Heroick and Noble, they were managed without any glorious pre­tentions, and his demeanour in the mean time humble: he never spread [Page 19] his sails to receive the gales of popular air, which swell some men into a strain of pride, and make them as big in their own conceits as they are in the eyes of the Vulgar. His beloved de­sign was to acquire Vertue, which is sufficient of its self to ennoble a man among the wisest and most intelligent part of men. Glory is a shadow that follows him who declines it, flees from him that pursues it, and a wise mans minde carries the same relation to it that the body doth to the shaddow, retains its dimension; is not extended into a greater, or cramp'd into a lesser compass, according to the vari­ous alteration of the shaddow.

That he was generally well-beloved you will presently guess, when I have told you that he was free from pride and envy: an humble and curteous man is the World's Darling, whiles a proud man, one meerly enamoured of himself, hath commonly the luck to be troubled with few Rivals: and that he was free from these appeared by his liberal bearing witness to other mens merits; they that have this piece of Ingenuity you may be sure they [Page 20] are furnished with true worth of their own. Some choice and peculiar Friends and Privadoes he had, whose conversation and counsel he found useful in many emergencies, especial­ly in matters of counsel and advice, when one hath occasion to adventure upon some design not usuall and or­dinary to him, in such cases a man's understanding is wonderfully enlight­ned, and his Resolutions quietly sta­ted by the concurrence of other mens counsel: for, though every intelligent man is best able to take the dimension of himself, and no wise man will make himself a Slave to the dictates of o­thers; yet because the Rules which our own thoughts suggest to us in sudden encounters are commonly troubled, it is not amiss to make the lives of other men our Looking-glass, the results of whose adventures in matters of like nature may much en­lighten us, and their counsels guide us; two eyes see more that one, and he that will always be his own Tutor hath a fool to his Scholar.

Whatsoever was commendable in his friends or occasional Companions, [Page 21] he was studious to imitate: what was amiss, (provided it were not impious) he was willing to bear with for quiets sake; if he discovered any impiety, or pernicious error, he forbare not to admonish them of it, avoiding always reproachful language, the usual ingre­dient of some mens reprehensions, who endeavour not so much to amend o­thers, as by vexing them to gratifie their own humor. His friendship was therefore permanent, because well grounded; for in the choice of friends he principally set his thoughts on men that were of known integrity, and his equals. True Friends should resem­ble the fixed stars, alwayes at a like distance; Inferiors with Superiors are upon terms of disadvantage, one is loath to stoop, the other cannot rise.

If frailty or inadvertency had be­trayed him into an error, he thought it no shame to acknowledge it; it's a piece of humane frailty to err, but very unmanly to persist in an error. If slanders and close cavillations (wherewith cowardly and degenerate persons usually endeavour to under­mine [Page 22] the reputation of the bravest men) were at any time raised against him, he neither troubled the quiet state of his mind by a childish impatience, nor betrayd his innocence by a cowardly silence. He alwayes laboured to se­cure his Reputation with men of ap­proved worth and integrity; for o­thers, by a prudent neglect he permit­ed them to weary themselves with an imaginary conceit of subverting his fame, till seeing their error (which they would soon do, when they found their Adversary careless) they learn'd at length to be wise and silent.

As for pleasures, if consistent with reason, they were sometimes admited into his Entertainment as things that give an agreeable relish to vertuous actions: there's no man to be found of so warrented a constancy, that can purely for the love of Vertue persist in well-doing; the pleasure and content that results from thence hath a great energy to secure our perseverance. Vertuous actions, though in the mana­ging of them they be attended with some harshness, yet they end in a most [Page 23] sincere and indisturbed content: but the most exact pleasures without this have a loathing and fastidious nausea­ting immediately subsequent. Those Objects that have most sharp and for­cible impulsions upon our senses at the first, which arrest, and violently captivate our reason, and make us so pertinaciously intent upon the en­joyment of them, terminate in dis­dain: their satiety begets an hatred in us. The most glorious colours and pleasant pictures recommend them­selves to us under the notion of no­velty, we cannot endure to be constant spectators of them. The most ravishing Notes of Musick at last prove tedious. The Tast, the most voluptuous of all the Senses, is affected with sweet things, and these soonest offend it. Indolency and freedom from pain is the greatest pleasure men ordinarily acquire; that active impulsion where­with they find themselves affected in some sensual pleasures, is a kind of restlesness, a pain which they endea­vour to expel or allay, that so they may be at ease. So that a wise man receives more content by not desiring, [Page 24] than any can do in the fruition of them, and placing his happiness in that which is permanent, piety and wis­dom; he is sure to avoid that grand infelicity, which is to have been happy.

If we look upon Charinus in rela­tion to his Diet, we find him a con­stant Observer of temperance, a sure Pillar to preserve and support the Fa­brick of the body; but he never in­slaved and confined himself to any precise and fantastical Diet, which some men affecting more out of osten­tation than reason, make their bodies unapt for such mutations and digres­sions, as one must of necessity encoun­ter withal. He never used to eat till his stomach craved, consulting rather to relieve the necessities of Nature, than indulge voluptuousness. At his meals although he was not a nice Observer of order, yet usually he eat moist and laxative meats in the first place, more firm and solid afterwards: nourish­ments extream hot and of a biting quality (which without great caution devour the spirits) he usually avoided. At great banquets which are frequent [Page 25] among the people of that countrey, and those set forth with great variety of dishes; he usually considered what was agreeable to his constitution, and the rules of temperance, which in­vites a man to denie his own desires, and fortifie himself against the impor­tunity of affections, rather than com­plied with the custom of the people, who being generally Lovers of good cheer, think themselves at their mee­tings obliged to some kind of excess, upon pain of being accounted uncivil. Hereupon he so ordered the matter, that by pleasant discourse, and sea­sonable table-talk, his company was ever acceptable, and redeemed him both from Intemperance, and the im­putation of incivility or singula­rity.

He used moderate Exercise, which very much conduced to the clearing of his spirits, and maintaining the healthful constitution of his body, by discussing such noughty humours as sedentariness causeth to reside in un­active bodies. Those wherein he principally delighted were walking, riding, leaping, and shooting with the [Page 26] long-bow, in which the Alycians were generally expert. If happily he some­times deviated from these good Rules of health, and contracted any distem­per, he used abstinence and rest in the first assault of it; Reason in­structed him, that Nature had then enough to do to wrastle with the en­croaching disease, and could neither so vigorously labour about concoction, nor assist him in accustomed exercises, which at such a time would exhaust the spirits and enfeeble the body.

He was look'd upon as a thriving man, one that encreased his Estate; but still by honest sincere and generous courses; he knew well enough that Goods ill gotten soon decay; Iron breeds its own Consumption, rust; Brass ingenders its Canker, and Wood corroding Worms, which without any outward violence, or impression, cause them to decay: and Goods scraped up by sacriledge, robbery, and op­pression, though some endeavour not to believe it, consume away no body knowes how, notwith­standing all the provident care, indu­stry, and penurious sparing of the [Page 27] pretended professors. In all times, and among all Nations honesty hath been attended with a Blessing, either of prosperous adventure, or some coun­tervailing content. Villainy and In­justice have been made exemplary by some remarkable vengeance, and sooner or later come to ruine.

His estate though plentifull did not transport him beyond the bounds of aequanimity; ordinary calamities he alwayes entertained with a generous and sedate spirit, prosperous adven­tures with a gratefull recognition of divine providence; nor did it raise him to so fond a conceit as to esteem himselfe above the cognizance of Lawes and Justice; if therefore he had occasioned or procured any inju­ry and trespass to his neighbours, (which at one time or other will hap­pen among such as have any dealings in the World) he willingly afforded them such recompence as was equi­valent to the wrong sustained, and the same dealings he accepted of from others if occasion were offered. By this means he avoided all peevish quarrels and tedious Law-suits, where­unto [Page 28] the people of those parts were exceedingly addicted, insomuch that many times for a very small matter they would eagerly pursue these con­tentions, till one or both of them were reduced to beggery.

Charinus, though derived from a noble stock, whose many branches for a long tract of time had been renown­ed for valour and wisdom, was never observed to boast of his Pedegree, as some will do with a supercilious often­tation; he esteemed that only to be true Nobility which proceeded from a mans own worthy actions. It seem'd to him a matter of small commenda­tion (as he was often heard to say) for one to boast of a fair Coat of Arms, and to relate how his great Grandfa­ther acquitted himself valiantly in such a battel, when himself is of a cowardly and ignoble spirit, not ad­venturing upon any brave act for the renown and protection of his Coun­trey. No less folly he esteemed it for another to relate how his Progenitors were wise States-men, served their Prince and Countrey with much ho­nour and sincerity, who hath nothing [Page 29] to distinguish him from the ordinary sort of men, but an imperious dialect and fantastical garb, or some skill in hawking and hunting, things very commendable nevertheless when they are not the All of a man: with as lit­tle credit doth another boast of great Mannors, and ample Possessions which his Ancestors purchased, if he consume them in pleasures and riot: such men, like Cyphers in books of accompt, are nothing of themselves, but derive their value from some figure going be­fore.

To speak what is right concerning these exterior appendages; Nobility, Wealth, Honour, ancient Families, great Relations, they are like rich Drapery in a Picture, which is an Or­nament to an handsom Countenance, an ugly visage deforms it: they add Confidence and Resolution to a man, whereas Poverty duls the courage, frustrates many a noble design, and proves a clog to ingenious mindes. They acquire observance, authority, and respect, while Poverty renders men contemptible. The Vulgar pay respect to a man, not for his Wisdom, [Page 30] (which they cannot judge of) but according to the rate of his outward Lustre and Magnificence. These, or the like considerations so inflamed the generous minde of Charinus, that he thought himself peculiarly obliged so to acquit himself, that his Family and his Estate should not be so great Ornaments to him, as he to them.

He never was ambitious in seeking after great places, to say the truth he did not affect them; wisely consider­ing, that men of high aims, mounting to the top of honour are like such as stand upon a Precipice with the Sun in their faces, the dangerousness of their station and splendor of their greatness conspire together to over­throw them. Yet his known wisdom and Integrity had so deservedly re­commended him to Alcidruinus, that he alwaies had a special respect to him, and used him in the managing of ma­ny considerable affairs. So that he did not like that austere and sullen Roman,Cato apud Mart. lib. 1. Epig. 3. Senec. Ep. 97. only come into the Theatre and so go out again, pass away his time without any remarkable exploits, his whole life was a series and reitera­tion [Page 31] of famous and worthy Actions, (too many to be related here, and too good to be defaced by an imperfect and overbrief recital, therefore whol­ly omitted) which made him gene­rally beloved in his life, and honora­ble after his death.

But as the most exquisite beauty may have a mole, and the most exact piece of limning an overdeep shadow, whereof one may seem to disparage Nature, and the other Art; both serve but as a foil to set off the other parts with the greater lustre: so the most absolute and exact man is not without his passions and distempers. It's possible to frame an Idea of an ab­solute happy Common-wealth, mana­ged with such decency, such an even distribution, that every man shall re­ceive full content, and none be ever annoyed with the least grievance: To set forth the pattern of a com­pleat Prince, such a one as should give full content and satisfaction to all his Subjects; to contrive the mo­del of an exact man, of a golden temper, an unwearied champion in the lists of Virtue and honour: Art [Page 32] will prescribe a platform for all these, give punctuall rules how they may be atchieved, because it considers the design its self apart from all remora's, but he that attempts to put these in practice, shall finde his endeavours check'd and controlled by variety of passions and distempers, divers inter­vening circumstances of persons, times, and places, the strange obliquity of mens manners, the unobserved con­tingency of humane things commonly called Fortune, (which is ever obser­ved to raise some countermine against the best endeavours) these all, or some of them interposing in his way, cannot but interrupt his proceeding, and dis­inherit him of his expectation. It is honour enough for a wise man that he never loses all, but couragiously op­posing himself against these Adversa­ries, arrives at so much perfection as is attainable by humane industry. While I have briefly recorded the ver­tues of renowned Charinus, nothing hath been said concerning his passions, and vitious inclinations: I mean not to abuse the Reader into a belief that he was free from these; certainly he [Page 33] was free from these, certainly he was not unconcerned in the ordinary fail­ings and miscariages of men, but have­ing omitted the particular recitation of his best actions, it were unhand­some to goe about to gratifie you with a relation of his worst: I shall therefore omit them; and, as a more lovely and useful advertisement, tell you by what meanes he rescued himself from the tyranny of disorde­red passions, and though I cannot say they were so forcible as totally to subdue them, yet they preserved him from being subdued by them.

It will be easily granted that the cer­tainest preservative against vice is not to be acquainted with it, not so much as know the very name of it too soon, to have the mind habituated to piety in the youth, which Charinus's was; and besides, being of a brave & couragious spirit (and such are generally most free from base vices) he considered the dignity and prerogative of his soul, which he scorned to debase by putting it under the wardship of usur­ping vices. Without doubt a serious and solid consideration of our selves, [Page 34] as it would elevate our thoughts to a due contemplation of our Maker, the main end of our being, so would it intice the mind to much resolution i [...] vertuous actions, and retract our de­sires from pursuing such trivial de­lights, as result from things inferior to our natures; but this must not be an idle and carelesse meditation, such as men ordinarily entertain, when re­ceiving some sublime dictates of rea­son, suggested to them by their own thoughts, or the writings or discour­ses of learned men, they write them in the sand; give them a short ap­plause in their thoughts: whereas if they were entertained with serious resolutions to act according to them, they might leave a deep impression upon their judgement and will, and by practice become as it were natural to them, were the mind so industri­ous as to improve them to their ut­most extent and latitude. Besides this, a serious converse with our selves would contribute no small assistance to the discovery of real and solid truth, refined from the superfluities of so many distinctions, formalities, [Page 35] and nice criticismes, as rather obscure than illustrate it. We need not suffer our thoughts to range into such ex­travagancies as usually we do, especi­ally in such sciences as may be digest­ed into axioms and aphorisms, a few clear principles naturally deduced from reason, would state our mindes in the handling and managing of them; without that multitude of curious questions and vain niceties, which like to brambles, intricately perplex us, but afford no fruit.

In the next place we must take notice that he was not indulgent to (or ina­mored of) his own passions, but desired and resolved to subdue them; without [Page 36] a prejudice against them all faint in­deavours are ineffectual. He avoided the company of such men as were sub­ject to those passions: he attempted to subdue, and abstracted himself from the interview of provoking objects. Objects that tempt & incite our affecti­ons resemble an eccho, the further one drawes himselfe from them, the lesse repercussion they make. If we expose them to our view, and behold them with content, the reflection which the present object darts, as it were, upon us insnares our mind presently, but vanisheth and loseth its self by a little absence, and though at first to absent our selves from a beloved object, be a perplexing torment, if we have but patience and resolve to endure, the time will come when it will be a plea­sure.

To prevent anger, he was alwaies cautelous lest he should by any means make other men his enemies, he would not willingly disoblige the meanest person lest he should provoke them to offer indignities, and so he might be provoked to revenge: he also avoided much earnest businesse, and excessive [Page 37] study, wherein if one be interrupted, that usually procureth some vexati­on; curiosity also and costly things, the one as it may now and then find out somewhat that pleases, so it often encounters with discontents, the losse of the other ordinarily procures vex­ation. If he were at any time surpri­zed by this churlish passion, he did not undertake of a sudden totally to suppresse it, but by degrees averted his thoughts from that which displea­sed him, till time gently allaid the commotion which was raised in the blood and spirits.

Drunkennesse (the bane of many a man of great parts and prodigious wits) which as they have an advantage for the attainment of vertue, so are they inclined to the greatest vices, he avoided by sometimes changing his seat, binding himself by a solemn vow and resolution for a short time at first, and afterwards for a longer, setting himselfe to perform some task, and till that were finished, resolved upon a retired course: by these honest cheats he defrauded his appetite of that bewitching thing called compa­ny-keeping, [Page 38] and for his paines found a most sincere pleasure in abstinence, to the utter disparagement of volup­tuousnesse.

There is a restlesse and lingring passion called love, I never heard he was surprized (at least not baffled) by it, but to such as were, he princi­pally disswaded them from solitude and reclusenesse, which cause ones thoughts to be pertinaciously fixt up­on that he loves; advised them to frequent and visit their friends, and be sure to impart their thoughts, and open their distemper to some prudent and discreet person, whose counsel and perswasion they should find mar­vellously efficatious in such an occa­sion.

Sadnesse, Melencholy, and dejecti­on of spirit are very incident to ver­tuous and ingenious men, who at the emergency of crosse accidents more earnestly ruminate upon their sor­rowes, use a kind of skill in tormenting themselves, and though company, im­ployment and such divertisments may somewhat allay the distemper for a time, yet their minds are very [Page 39] acute in retriving their grievances, and amplifying their sorrowes by a tedious and irksome remembrance. To such men he recommended (what he had with good success experimen­ted,) such directions as these, to avoid solitarinesse, vigorously to snatch their thoughts from that which trou­bled them, and fix them upon some other thing, never to let their thoughts be too closly confined, but as it were scattered and at liberty, by which means they would not receive so con­siderable annoyance: if their calami­ty were the product of their own er­rour or wickednesse, no remedy (he told them) but repentance, and a wa­ry resolution against the like miscar­riage for the future; if it proceeded from poverty, exile, losse of freedom, and the like, whereunto they were not conscious that any remarkable mis­carriage of their own contributed oc­casion; he conceived it expedient for them to put off their present grievan­ces, with the hope of better adven­tures, though hope it selfe be but a kind of pain, yet it's more gentle than despair. It is not impossible for a [Page 40] man so to model and order his will, that it shall buckle and comply with any condition, the will can of its self act either way, will, or refuse; chuse, or reject; without the impulsion of exterior objects. A man (if he will labour about it) may curb his appetite with a repetition of past delights, or antedate and forestal future pleasures and what felicity his condition de­nies, frame it for himself. It's confest, this may seem but a pittiful shift, to be put off with an immaginary de­light, a feigned and supposed con­tentment, yet it may serve to avocate the minde at the present from worse meditations, and prevent despair. He that will take the pains to observe, may find that the mind is sometimes willing to deceive its self, by framing a false and fantastical subject, though against its own conceit, rather than not be busy at all. The Architect contrives an house, the Lutanist tunes his Instrument, and orders the notes in his brain, when the one is not build­ing, nor the other playing on a Lute: Some talk & discourse about matters of importance, travel into strange [Page 41] countries, go to war, and return victo­rious: marry rich and beautiful Wives, dispose of lands and great revenues, manage estates which they never had, nor do they themselves ever think to have them, they build stately houses, make pleasant Gardens, and entertain their friends at delicious banquets, a thousand such fancies and wakeing dreames will accompany men even a­gainst their wills; and if so, what hurt is it if the mind and will it self makes some use thereof, by catching an opportunity of present content? and since such thoughts will be stir­ring to solace themselves with the pleasantnesse of them. I fore-see the Reader will smile at this narrative of Charinus's imaginary and conceited happinesse, I have told him it is so; but in good earnest joy and sorrow are but artificial devices, and atchei­vable by industry, they are the pro­ducts of our will; it is not prosperity alone can make men joyful, and hap­py; but a confidence to believe that they are so. Nor can adversity alone make a man miserable; misery its self is no misery, but a man imagins it to [Page 42] be so. There's neither infelicity no felicity in things, but only as we entertain them with a misguided or rectified opinion. But besides this Stoical resolutenesse, let a man in adversity, assure himself of the undoubted good successe which will at last result from honest indea­vours, and further consider that ad­versity tries him as the furnace tries mettals, not to consune but refine and clear. It makes men look into themselves, puts them upon action, unfolds many clandestine distempers, which in a firme and setled condition lurked and were not noted, like tem­pestuous weather it clears and purges the aire, and as the Sun is most wel­come, after it hath broke through the clouds and mists that smothered his beauty from the world, so is that joy most welcom, which succeeds a tedi­ous infelicity. And the recollection of sorrowes amplifies the present joy; nothing is here permanent, not on­ly particular men, but families, Cities and Countries have their vicissitudes and returns of prospe­rity and adversity, sicknesse and [Page 43] health, peace and war. Some turbu­ [...]ent fellow after a long peace, being designed for the scourge and plague of the age he lives in, puts all into a combustion for a time, kindles a whole Nation into a flame; offers up the lives and estates of many thou­sands to the Idol of his own ambiti­on; in which grand commotions the several humors and tempers of men reveal themselves with much perspi­cuity, some vex & torment themselves for the miseries they see ready to be­fal themselves and the country: some wast and pine away through a tedious consideration of their loss, some storm and rage like bedlams, others run along with the croud, and right or wrong side with the prevailing party: some curse & execrate their enemies; others cry up every hasty and mad­brain design as a pure zealous and re­ligious work; others flout and jeer at them for their egredious mistakes. In the mean time a wise man is grei­ved indeed for the miseries of his country and friends, but waites with patience till these mad disturbances be sedated, gathers usefull notions and observations to improve his wis­dom, [Page 44] assures himself that peace when it comes will be most welcome after the miseries of War.

Joy is that which every one seeks and aims at, and thinks he can never have too much of it, yet at some times there is need of more prudence in the managing of it than men conjecture; for, if it be excessive and sudden, it transports a man beyond himself; a man is rather oppressed than relieved by a sudden encounter of felicity, as the fire is often extinguished for want of fewell, so is it stifled and choaked by too much; the heart is not onely oppressed by grief when the bloud and spirits are chill and stagnant, and flow not freely to it, but also by the impetuous agitations of joy, when they flow with such violence, that the heart is not able to transmit them so fast into the Arteries, so that they choak and damp its natural heat, which they would preserve if they flowed in a convenient quantity. In such a case as this, he found it condu­cible to meditate on the inconstancy of humane felicity, and that Adver­sity may suddenly happen; to skir­mish [Page 45] and exercise himself with a veli­ [...]ation with sorrow, with lusory and rebated hardship.

He easily removed that restless self-tormenting passion, Envy; by consi­dering how many thousands were in­feriour to him: Poor men, Slaves, Va­gabonds, Exiles, Prisoners, despicable creatures; and not suffering the Po­tentates, Grandees, and Nobles to stand in his light. There is hardly a man to be found so wretched, but his condition may administer some matter of content: and that of his superi­ours is not so absolute, as to be excu­sed from all inconveniencies; the scale of Providence stands at a more even counter-poise than the querulous World would set it; we cannot be all Great, Honour is distributed to one, Riches to another, Wisdome to another: to some all these, and to others none at all; who yet in respect of their secure sedate, and peaceable condition, may be happier than the greatest; the skill is to know their own good, and not other mens so in­quisitively.

Fear, a treacherous passion, which [Page 46] betraies a man to danger, assists his e­nemies, and deprives him of those suc­cours Reason would afford: Jelousie, a kinde of inquisitive envy,Sap. 17.12. which is ever busie in searching what it is loath to finde; with all the rabble of com­motions of Pride, Pusillanimity, Dis­dain; he cleared himself of them all, by a prudent disregarding idle Re­ports, popular Rumors and Stories; good Counsel and Employment: with­out doubt, Business, Example, Dis­course, good Counsel, Musick, good Company, Books of Divines and Phi­losophers, contrived on purpose for the regulating of mens Mindes, are of excellent use to moderate and allay a­ny passion or perturbation of minde whatsoever; provided men be (as Charinus was) willing, and come to them pre-disposed to be cured: but when one is pievish and froward, cold, dull, and negligent, delighted with his foolery, and in love with his cap­tivity; no wonder if they prove weak Obstacles, infirm Diversions, suspend­ing or mittigating the Paroxisme for a time, not curing the Disease. The most brave and generous way to curb [Page 47] them all, is a noble resolution not to yeild to them: but for a man to con­quer himself, deny his own desires in despight of contrary inclinations, to fortifie his minde against all the im­portunity of Pleasure, Profit, Honor, Self-conceit, that would almost force his consent, and extort a compliance. If this seem too difficult to be done on a sudden, all at once; a man may ac­complish it by degrees, binde him­self by a resolution to avoid all occa­sions for a short time at first, and af­terward for a longer space. By cu­stome bruit beasts are many times taught to forget their natural incli­nations; by custom the hardest things become easie: A Spaniel by nature is carried on with an eager and furious pursuit after a Partridge, and quests at the springing of it; yet is ordi­narily taught to disobey this forcible command of nature, and to couch quietly down at the finding of it. What a tedious thing is it for a Childe at first to frame a Letter? to manage the cu­rious Flourishes, cursory and intricate knots in writing? or for a man to bring his tough and stiff fingers to [Page 48] bend and reach the Stops or Frets in a Lute? which by practice close in with them of their own accord: the repe­tition of the action produces a facility in working, renders it familiar to the Organs, imprints an habit, a kinde of remembrance (as some call it) in the hand, without our perception or de­signation. It's true, we have a design for the principal Action, writing, or playing on the Instrument; the vari­ous strokes and touches are managed oft-times, we not adverting them, yet regularly and with certainty, because the imagination readily moves and directs the Organs. Nor is it other­wise in the exercises of the Minde, in the actions of Vertue; the entrance presents some difficulty, use will make them easie: It will be worth our pains to persevere in them, for where en­deavours bring advantage, it's a brave refreshment to have been wearied.

Looking upon Charinus as a Schol­lar, (for he was not a stranger to the Muses) we might finde him often in his Study conversing with the dead, and frequently in company, conver­sing with learned men living, but with [Page 49] [...]uch caution, that his Studies inter­ [...]upted not his Imployments; such [...]ue proportion of time he allotted [...]or both, that he intermitted neither [...]bruptly; his Studies and Imploy­ments by natural returns advanced [...]ne another; his reading was chiefly [...]n History and Philosophy, wherein [...]e read not all Authors promiscuous­ [...]y, as if he should have no other aime [...]ut to be able to relate what such an Authors opinion is; but the most ap­proved and exact: and whatsoever [...]e read, he would be sure to offer as [...]he subject of his discourse, when he had the hap to meet with other learn­ed men; and with such he often con­versed, being perswaded that Know­ [...]edge is not attained only by plodding Studdy, musing and trafficking with a mans own Thoughts; but that Con­ference addeth much to a man, clear­eth and satisfieth the Minde in any dubious matter, and while every one contributes his proportion (as it were) to the common stock of Learning: somwhat may be learned from a mean Schollar.

Charinus as he was improved by, [Page 48] [...] [Page 49] [...] [Page 50] (and did himself improve) others in matter of Learning; so was he very serviceable to his Country through his Dexterity, in managing those Im­ployments in which he was conver­sant. Some very knowing and able men for want of Imployment, sink in­to themselves, converse meerly with their own Thoughts, either their dis­harmony with the humour of the Times they live in, multitudes of men of the same profession; Poverty, (the usual clog to brave Actions) or their over-much modesty, (the usual pro­perty of a wise man) retard their pro­ceedings, and afford them not any Stage to act upon. But no such Ob­stacles were offered to Charinus's Proceedings, for besides that he lived in peaceable Times, the civil Dissen­tions being sedated; and under a re­ligious and prudent Prince: he also wanted not Wealth, Opportunities, Materials, wherewith to maintain his Enterprises: and without which, no man (though of an unhappy Wit and Ingenuity) can raise himself up to any considerable esteem.

In his old Age he was not morose [Page 51] and untractable, but commonly quiet and cheerful; his care was to trans­mit to future Ages a Pattern worthy of imitation: he was pious himself. and earnestly invited others to be so. Piety resembles the fire, which not only hath heat in itsself, but a power and inclination also to communicate heat to other Bodies: the efficacy of his Piety, and pious Instructions, were evidently seen in Eriander, as shall be shewed, who lived Charinus's life o­ver again, and made the World to see that his Vertues were not dead, but transplanted: good Counsel operates on a resolved Minde, as the Light on a close compacted Body, which by u­niting and reflecting the visive Rayes becomes luminous; whereas slight and thin bodies (wherein the rayes are absorpt and lose themselves) scat­ter, or transmit them, so as they evade the eye, or become obscure.

He died in the sixty third year of his Age, which is the great Climacte­rical year, resulting from the multipli­cation of Seven, and Nine; for where­as every seventh and nineth year, men sustain some remarkable alteration in [Page 52] their bodies, either through the com­motion and agitation of Humours, which in such a period of time gain a considerable augmentation; or from the peculiar influence of the Planets, especially Saturn, which every se­venth year is said to exercise domini­on over mens bodies: So especially when these Climacterical years con­cur, the effects do more powerfully discover themselves, that he died in much tranquility and quietness of minde, is without all dispute: having secured himself of that only content and peace of minde which this world affords, that is, the content which flows from doing good; and also by his Piety forestalled Eternity, and gained such an assurance (as is here attainable) of that Happiness which is compleat hereafter. That his death was lamented, and his Name renown­ed after death; though I should not relate it, every man may therein be his own Intelligencer: for it is very well known, that he who lives pious­ly, cannot but die honourably: whilst a man lives, Flattery may over-much enhaunce, or Envy may debate the [Page 53] rate of his Worth, but after death these are silent; and Posterity (which is least concerned in mens actions) is willing to do right to Illustrious Per­sons, whose Vertues are ever most re­splendent after their Funerals.

The Estate descended to Eriander according to the Laws of the Nation, but a plentiful provision was made for a Daughter which he left, as also for Timoclea, of whom I cannot pre­sent so large and exact a Character, as her Merits call for, but am forced to transcribe the Painters way, who being to draw a vast Gyant in a small Table, presented only one of his fin­gers, whereby the Spectators might guess at the proportion of his body. This may not be omitted, That she was a Lady sincere in her Devotions, charitable in her Actions, peaceable in her Carriage, and temperate in her Diet; a loving and loyal Wife, a ser­viceable Neighbour, and a prudent Governess in her Family. It was ob­served that while Charinus and she li­ved together in a Conjugal state, pru­dent and moderate Gravity hath such influence upon all that were related [Page 54] to them, as domestick Servants; that they were sufficiently instructed as in the discreet and frugal ordering of business, so in piety and sober demea­nure. They alwaies made choice of such Retirements as were free from re­markable Vices, especially Riot, Dis­sention, and Idleness, the disgrace and ruine of a Family: of such as were honest and sparing; such as took de­light in Frugallity, not to say penu­rious; presuming that these would be provident and careful in their trust. If happily they had entertained such as were otherwise, they laboured to make them so; to which purpose they treated them so indifferently with mildeness and severity, and the one should not make them desperate, nor the other remiss: above all, their ex­ample hath such powerful influence upon them, as they accounted it a shame not to be good, having such precedents. Neither did Charinus or Timoclea so look upon their conditi­on of Servitude, as to forget their condition of Nature; the considera­tion of the first caused them to keep them strictly to convenient Employ­ment, [Page 55] and the latter to be tender of their Welfare, and afford them such respect and accommodations, as are due to people of their condition.

And now it is time to come to Eri­ander, the subject of this History; from which a great part of the former Narrative may seem to have been a digression, which yet I conceive hath not been impertinent, considering of what importance it is to the compleat institution of a man, that he be born in a Country where commendable Edu­cation is observed, under the Govern­ment of a noble Prince, and of pious and worthy Parents. And that I may here prepare an Apology for somwhat that shall immediatly ensue, I hope the Laws of Method will allow me to proceed as neer as I can from the in­stant of his Conception, which was a­bout the Month of May, (for he was born in February) which Season Na­ture seems to design more peculiarly for the production of Creatures. To the evidencing of this, we are to un­derstand, that as the perpetual dura­tion and continuance of things de­pends upon (and is guided by the [Page 56] motion of the Sun from East to West; so Generation and Corruption are promoted by the oblique courses of the Sun and other heavenly bodies, through the Zodiack, which alter the affections and qualities of inferiour things, according to their scituation and Aspects, the access or recess of their Rayes: when the Sun draws neer its vertical Point, and the Rayes are received by the Earth in more di­rect and right Angles, it dilates and rarifies the Aire, recludes the pores of the Earth, draws out the Seeds of things into a greater latitude, sum­mons forth the lurking Spirits and ex­cites the prolifical Vertue. The con­trary is seen when the Earth admits its Sun-beams in oblique Angles, for then the Aire becomes cold, the superficies and body of the Earth close compact­ed; bodies are shrunk into a closer consistency, and all active Faculties are more benummed: That heat doth agitate the parts, rarifie and dilate bodies that are capable of relaxion, appears by the Seeds of Plants cast in­to the Earth, as into their proper Womb, where having convenient moi­sture, [Page 57] (for moisture makes a body apt to receive the vigorous impression of heat, and yeild it self obedient to that design Nature is about to work upon it) Tumefy, break the outward Rinde, and disclose with an Orifice; whereby the seminal Neb, or Bud, shoots its self upward, and being by little and little dilated, it branched at length into a perfect Vegetable; and the heat still sublimes up moisture through certain fibrous strings, for the nourishing of every part. In that ar­tificial device of making Malt, we see that Barley macerated with water to make it more capable of relaxation, and layd into a Couch, the superfluity of water that would choak it, being removed, Nature presently advances her self to Generation, the parts by their contiguity gather heat, this heat dilates every several Grain, excites and puts in action the generative spi­rit, and labours after a production of more individuals: But the Artist, (who hath no further intention than only to excite and advance the spirits of his Malt) deludes Nature all this while, and to frustrate her intentions, [Page 58] turns and tumbles about the Barley, lest having a fixt scituation, and being inclosed in a Congeries, (which might serve instead of a womb for Nature to work in) the whole pitch should branch forth into a Plant, and at last by help of fire, he removes the moi­sture that might help to promote the generation. In the production of Mi­nerals, a concrete or coagulated juyce (which as a Seed of the metal is wrapt up in the womb of the earth) rarified and extended by a certain heat (ei­ther inbred, or peradventure derived from the Sun, and darted through the Earths pores into the Mine) and when it is augmented by superaddition of new matter, this heat concocts and converts it into the substance of such a Mineral, whose form and essence it is apt to receive; and thus it is brought from its loose principles, into a per­fect consistency.

In the generation of living Crea­tures of all sorts, Nature proceeds in such a kinde of method, though with much more curiosity and stateliness: but as there, so here; she requires three principal things: A Matter qua­lified [Page 59] with convenient moisture, a due degree of heat, and a womb to work in: As in man, Ʋterus humanus sperma (quod a testibus nixu quodam & pal­pitatione, quasi jam tum vivendi pri­mordia exercens penis ejaculatur) im­bibit, imbibitum in sinu recondit, & occluso orificio arcte amplexatur; Ip­sum vero semen in utero non diu adeo mor as ducit: quin quam primum efflu­viis quibusdam subtilissimis plasticam ei virtutem indiderit, contagio seu fermentatione impraegnaverit; illico vel evanescit, vel in vas a uteri semi­nalia abripitur, unde brevi spatio vel ipsum semen, vel humor quidam albu­gineus in uterum transudat, & in mas­sam quandam liquidam coagulatur; in cujus ipsissimo centro, punctum quoddam sanguineum sen bullula sa­liens conspicitur, quod calore nativo sensim anctum & dilatatum, Juxta CI. V. Guil. Harvaeum. instar vermiculi seu pusillae teredinis se mo­titat. Divers smal Filaments or Strings, which are appointed for the Veins, stream from that red spot, and at the end of some of them a knot of liquid matter, being the rude or original draught of the head: and out of that [Page 60] again three distinct Orbicular parts bubble forth, designed to be the Brain and Eyes: all these by the power of heat are still rarified and dilated; af­terward the main Trunk, or Fabrick of the Body, in which the Ribs and other Bones appear at first, but as small white lines; next to these the Inward parts, the Heart, Lungs, Liver, Spleen, and Bowels: these at first appear but as small Protuberancies or Excrescen­cies of the Veins, and, as it were, hang out of the Body not yet covered with skin; but at last are drawn into (and rest in) their particular Regions or Receptacles, appointed for them by Nature: The last which appear, are such parts as serve only for Ornament or Defence; as Skin, Nails, Hair, and the rest. The gross and less useful part of that liquid matter is thrust out­ward by the plastick Vertue, and constitutes the Membranes, wherein the Embroy is inwrapped: within these Membranes is contained a certain hu­mour (transmitted into them by the umbilical Arteries of the Mother) not excrementitious, but nutritive; for the Umbilical, or Navil-veins of the [Page 61] Infant, convey it into the hollow vein, by the branches whereof it is distribu­ted into every part of the body. Now when the Infant is exactly shaped, there is produced a lump of glandu­lous flesh, which serves to prepare and concoct Nutriment for him; which in all probability he sucks in at his mouth, as may be conjectured by his being so exact at sucking as soon as he is born.

When the Members and Parts of the Infant become somwhat stiff and solid, when the Brain, Nerves, and Organs of the Sences are finished, he begins to move and tumble with some perceptible strength (and then Wo­men say they are quickned) whereas before he enjoyed only a trepidation or little frisking, not discernable, and waxing by degrees great and strong, advances himself to seek a larger Room. Cujus gratia, mira divini numinis providentia ossium commissu­rae, nempe coxendicis & ossis sacri synchondrosis, item coccygis synneuro­sis, ad recludendum ampliandumque uteri orificium relaxantur. The In­fant by calcitration and strangling, [Page 62] many times pulls asunder the Mem­branes which infetter him: but Eri­ander was found involved in them firm and entire; which I record not as a Foundation whereon to build any superstitious prediction of his future Fortune; but as an Argument of vi­vacity, conceiving that such a kinde of Birth is most mature and agreeable to Natures Intention, which having given maturity to her Works, causes them (not to be torn away, but) to drop off with ease from their Stem or Mother; as we see in the Fruits of Trees, but is often defeated by the weakness of the Mother, not corres­pondent to the strength of the Child, the confirmation of the parts, or the like reasons: and not seldome by the over-much expedition of busie Mid­wives, who to accelerate (as they pre­tend) the Birth, and put an end to the Torments they perceive the Mo­ther to endure, use some indecent vi­olence that proves noxious to both; the ordinary period to perfect the formation of the Infant, is about for­ty dayes, the usual time of bringing forth is about forty weeks, or ten [Page 63] months, notwithstanding the strength or weakness of the Mother or Childe, may either accelerate or prolong the birth, and fix an exception to this ge­neral Rule.

And now let the Reader allow him­self a little leisure to consider upon how slender a foundation the wonder­ful Fabrick of this little World is e­rected; from how pitiful (yet admi­rable) Original, the greatest Gran­dees of the World, (that swell so big in their own, and other mens estima­tion) are extracted the wonderful­ness of it, rebates the sharpness of all Eloquence, and puts it beyond the a­bility of expression: and this may partly be the cause of that vain care­lesness whereof we all have a spice; we seldome take the pains to look in­to our selves, nothing earnestly affects us, but what comes under the notion of Novelty, Custome and Familiarity with things blunts the edge of our Ad­miration: The intricate and curious contrivance of our own Bodies, is a work surpassing all the Mechanical In­ventions in the world; yet either be­cause we are lazy and dull in our spe­culations, [Page 64] or because they are not of­fered to us under the notion of Novel­ty, we take no great notice of them, but are more affected with a pretty piece of Clock-work, Carving, Pain­ting, or the like; we are transported with wonder at the sight of a strange Beast, and are the greatest strangers to our selves.

The scope of this story (as I have designed it,) obliges me to say some­what concerning this subject, before I proceed any further; because many things which are to follow cannot o­therwise be well understood by Vul­gar Readers, to the Learned I shall not need to write any thing concern­ing Man, who are ordinarily no such strangers to themselves.

Man consists of a Body and a Soul, an Invisible part, and a Visible; by the purity and energy of the Soul he is enabled to discern and know him­self, and things different from him­self: the gross composure of the body renders him an object of Sense; and both together make him socia­ble. So he fals under a three-fold consideration, viz. that of the body [Page 65] alone, the Soul alone, and both toge­ther. The first is managed by Philo­sophers and Physicians; the second by Divines and Philosophers; and the third by Moralists, Divines, Histo­ryans, & Writers of policy; in whose elaborate writings may be found am­ple discoveryes of what I shall only glance at.

The body consists of parts, either contayned, which being tenuious and fluid, are therefore bounded and kept in by such as are more tough & com­pacted, such are all the humors of the body, Blood, Choler, Melancholy and Flegme with the spirits, which are nothing else but the purer part of the blood, as the other humors are the grosse and sedimentary part of it; so as the various humors in the body are no more but blood diversifyed; or somewhat percolated from the blood as Urine, Sweat, Choler, Melancholy, and all serose humors. The parts contayning, which limit and confine others, are either similar, of like na­ture and composure, as flesh, veins, nerves, arteries, and bones: or dissi­milar, made up of other particles of [Page 66] a different nature, such are the Brain, Heart, Liver, Lungs, Kidneys, Spleen, &c. and all Muscles: for in these there is a mixture of flesh, Veins, Arteries, Blood, and spirits, (or thin agile par­ticles) according as the office of every member requires.

The Soul as it resides in the body, (for in that state alone it shall be con­sidered here,) exercises divers fa­culties, as Vegetation, whereby the body lives, is nourished and augmen­ted, and the species propagated by generation; to accomplish which, the meat and drink we receive, being ma­sticated and reduced into small parts in the mouth, is conveyed downe in­to the stomach, where a certain sharp and hot humor piercing into it, redu­ces it into smaller parts, and makes it slippery; so that it may easily slide into the small whitish veines, (called from their colour Lacteal,) these lac­teal veins intercepting the purest and juicyest part of it, convey it into the hollow vein, in which passage it receives much transmutation; the excrementitious and lesse useful parts (by vertue of certain glandulous sub­stances [Page 67] which make an attrition upon it, and sever the purest part from the lesse pure,) are conveyed to their pro­per receptacles; For that which we call Choler is conveyed into a little bag called the Gall, hanging at the Liver; Urine is conveyed by the Kid­neyes to the Bladder, the grosser ex­cremements slip through the entrals or Guts; That which passeth through the veins staies not till it arrive at the heart; where it receives a more perfect concoction and purifying; and from the heart part of it is carried from the right Ventricle of the heart, (through a vein called the arterial vain,) to the Lungs; whence it re­turnes through the venal Artery into the left Ventricle of the heart, thence with the rest of the blood, (for so it is by this time) it flowes into a great Artery called by Anatomists Aorta. This Artery spreading it self into ma­ny branches, distributs it to every part of the body, that it may nourish, en­liven & move every member. Testiculi interim (nesi omissi, & quasi castrati, e nostra microcrosmi historiola exulent) partem dicti alimenti allicientes, in [Page 68] spumosum semen digerunt, & in usum peculiarem recondunt. The blood by its motion through the Arteries is rarified, made more hot, subtil, and vivid; for it doth not rest or stag­nate in the arteries; but emptyed out of the utmost twigs of the Arteries in­to the veines, returnes by a circular motion to the heart in its passage communicating influence, vigor, acti­vity & nourishment to every member: and augmentation too, so long as there is need; but that bears date no longer than till such time as the body arrives at its Aime, and consistence, which is when the bones (the main supporters of and rules of dimension for it) are grown so hard that they are not ca­pable of any further extention; for then the rest of the parts refuse the superaddition of new matter, more than what serves to repair that that decayes by continual motion, and is requisite to assist them in their moti­ons and operations.

As all parts of our body partici­pate of this kind and active influence of the blood, so the Brain seemes to ingrosse the purest portion of it, the [Page 69] thicker part cannot arrive there by reason of the narrow passages through which it is percolated; the Brain di­gests it into a thin substance called animal spirits, which are dispersed in the nerves, contributing sense and motion to the whole body. The most remarkable motion, and of most absolute necessity, is respiration, and is thus accomplished; The animal spirits which take their way to the Muscles of the Brest through the nerves that are branched thither, move and dilate the great Muscle called Diaphragma, which by consequence extends the parts of the Brest, where­upon the Lungs (which accomodate themselves to the motion of the brest) are also dilated, as a pair of bellowes; so is also the sharp Artery, and the contagious aire (which is ready to fill any concave or fistular body that hath nothing else to fill it) is pro­truded, one part rejecting the other, till that next to the mouth and Nose enters; but after a little pause the Lungs contracting themselves, when the Diaphragma is erected in a con­vex figure and presses upon them, [Page 70] send it forth and instantly receive a new supply. This alternate motion is of manifold use, for the intromission of cool and fresh aire, and it serves to refresh the heart, Lungs, and Sto­mach, in case they be too hot: so e­specially it contributes to the pro­duction of vital spirits, which parti­cipate of an aiery nature, and may probaly somewhat assist the heart in that motion whereby it conveyes the blood into the Arteries, and in this respect is of absolute necessity of pre­serve life.

The emission of it serves, as to ex­press our several passions, so likewise to frame our speech, when we sigh thereby giving a hint of some close grief, we emit our breath through the artery being open, not resisting or g [...]ving any collision to it, with a deep and laborious breathing. When we would cry loud, we cause it to break forth with a smart violence and vociferation: when we laugh, the [...]od j [...]rking nimbly from the H [...]a [...] to the lungs, huffe them up [...] [...]nly and by turns, so as they [...] the aire to go forth at the sharp [Page 71] artery with a kind of trepidation, or interrupted motion, and with all twitch the Muscles of the Diaphrag­ma, Brest, and Face, which causeth a quavering motion discernible in the countenance, and a warbling inarti­culate sound. But in speaking there are more little engines set on work, the sharp Artery alternately dilates & contracts its self, the larynx or upper part or lid of it intercepts, or gives free passage to the aire, the parts that constitute the orb of the mouth, the Tongue, Teeth, Palat, and Lips make various stops, dashes and callisions upon it, the various extention of the sharp Artery contributes to the diver­sifying of our voice into shrill or low, acute or flat: for if the artery be much streightned and compressed, the voice becomes flat; if freely dila­ted, it proves accute; the larynx by its motion serves to make the stops or distances between our words, the or­gans of the mouth make it articulate and significative. For as in a Pipe, the sound extending its self in a right line, would be uniform and of one tone, did not the artist intercept it, [Page 72] so would our breath cause an uniform and uselesse noise, if it should freely convey its self in a direct progresse, but encountering the Mouthes cavity it is obliged to assume various figures, and conform its self to the configura­tion of the mouth. The five vowels a, e, i, o, u seem to be made only by the different emission of the breath; and require not any observeable acti­on of the parts of the mouth, but seem to be accomplished by the different extentions of the sharp Artery; for as in a pipe so in our artery, the same proportion of aire may yeeld a vari­ous sound, according as the passage is either widened or compressed, still, or quavering; But the Consonants are formed with more extant and dis­cernably motion, when the Lips en­deavour to stop and intercept the aire in its passage, b and p are for­med; when the basis of the tongue strikes at the palate, c and g are pro­nounced, when the point of the tongue strikes at the teeth, and dashes the emergent aire against them, you may hear the sound of t and d; If the Lips be shut and the breath mount [Page 73] upward toward the nose, the letter m is framed; when the tongue stops the breath by clapping it selfe to the Pa­late, this motion gives being to the letter n; If the breath so stopped makes an escape by the side of the Cheekes, then it appears in the sound of l; somtimes the breath is as it were pressed, either through the teeth a­lone, and s is squeezed out, or be­tween the tongue or Palate, and thence r comes snarling forth: or be­tween the tongue and fore-teeth, and so we pronounce z and jod. When a soft puffe is emitted between the fore-teeth & lips almost compressed, if we be troubled with a deafness, yet we may see f and vau pronounced. Such variety of motions ars requisite to speech, but they are managed with so much nimblenesse and dexterity as they evade our observation.

In spontaneous or progressive mo­tion, the animal spirits in the Brain being excited, shake and dash for­ward the next, which are in the nerves; and by consequence the very nerves themselves, the nerves dilate the muscles, into which the branches of [Page 74] them are inserted, the muscles expan­ded in bredth, become shorter, and draw in the tendinesse, (instruments of motion made up of the coalescence of smal nerves, Ligaments, and Fibres) being contracted in breath, and so ex­tended in length, they relaxe the ten­diness; which while they are con­tracted draw the joints as it were up­ward toward the brain, the fountain of motion; and whilst they are relax­ed remit them: and thus the members drawne up and extended by turnes, execute the motions and gestures which we require.

The sensitive faculty, whereby we apprehend exteriour objects, acts by the help of the animal spirits too; which being resident in the very out­most parts of our bodies, in the small or capillary nerves, are capable of the least percussion or jog that is made at them, and instantly communicate it to the Brain; For there be in all or most bodies minute effluvia's, or exhalations, which (like little emissa­ries and intelligences) are continual­ly frisking up and down between those bodies and our senses, dash at the or­gans [Page 75] of our senses, when we have first put our selves into a fit posture, and [...]ause an agitation and vibration upon [...]hese tender and tenuious spirits which speedily traject it to the Brain. The Nerves which assist our sense of feel­ing when they receive a light percus­sion from any palpable object, such a pression or percussion is also made upon the Brain, one part of the nerve pressing on the other till the motion arrives there, as if one move a Lute-string at one end, the motion in an im­perceptable moment is conveyed to the other end. A visible object in­stantly conveyes a representation of its self through the clear or Chrystal­like humor in the very centre of the eye, to the retina, or utmost branches of the optick nerve, and so up­ward.

When we hear a sound, the ayre is beaten by a continued motion, one part rejects that which is contiguous to it, this the next; till it arrive at the anfractuous windings of the ear, the auditory nerve, and so onward. In the Nose there are found nerves which terminate in the top of the thrils, and [Page 76] these suffer a light impression from warme and moist emanations, which steame from odoriferous bodies, and are exhalted through the Nostrils, and by those processes or branches of the nerves are sublimed up to the Brain. In tasting, our meat, as it slides over the tongue and parts adjoyning, con­veyes a thin exhalation to the nerves, which give notice of it to the foun­tain of sense.

The next faculty whereby we judge of objects, and entertain them under the notion of pleasing or displeasing, nigh or remote, great or small, usual or unusual, we may call estimation. That whereby we retein and preserve these impressions, is the Memory. But the Phantasie excites, variously orders, and marshals them, joins or severs, compounds or divides them, and frames several conceptions or appre­hensions of them.

When the spirits in the brain are agitated by (and receive impressions from either) outward objects, as in sen­sation, or from the body its self, as in hunger, thirst, the apetites of excreti­on, and the like, (which have alwaies [Page 77] [...] stimulation or acrimony accompa­ [...]ying them, by which they agitate [...]he nerves, and consequently the brain, [...] the concourse of these impressions [...]etermine the spirits in the brain to va­ [...]ious motions, even when the objects [...]re absent, and many times when the [...]enses are obstructed too, as in sleep: Now the Phantasy setting these noti­ons before us, & the estimative faculty presenting them to us, as pleasant or distastfull, although the things them­selves that caused such impressions in us be absent, yet we have often times as quick and lively apprehensions of them, as vigorous and active motions toward them, as if they were not ab­sent, but present; and such motions are the operations of that faculty which we call the will; and may be divi­ded into apetite and aversion, for I omit those other acts of the will, sus­pence, doubting, hope, fear, joy, sor­row, and the rest; partly for brevities sake, because I relate these things cursorily; and partly because they are easily reduced to these. In ap­petition the spirits dilate and axpand themselves to welcome a pleasing ob­ject [Page 78] object, which if present, produceth Joy; if absent, Hope. In aversion they contract and retire themselves, and lurk in a kinde of fixation, upon the apprehension of a displeasing Ob­ject, which, if it be present, causeth Grief; if absent, Fear.

But I am not yet arrived at that su­pream faculty, whereby Man is di­stinguished from Bruit beasts; those which have been hitherto recited, are most of them as eminent (some more exact) in them, than in Man: that they have life, motion, and sense, the most ignorant are able to observe; that they have estimation of things appears by their choice of Meats, seeking of subterfuges, and cautelous avoiding of dangers. That they have a natural Dialect, or way of communicating and imparting their Designs, or Thoughts, one to another sufficient for them, and proportionable to their necessities, is discovered by their various tones, actions, and gestures, which they use according to the several occasions they encounter with, their nutations and caresses wherewith they salute one a­nother at their meeting. Their Me­mory [Page 79] is discovered by their certain and ready finding out their usual haunts, their starting and shrinking from any thing wherein they have found inconvenience, and their impe­tuous pursuing of that wherein they have found content. Their Phantasie appears by their quick and lively ap­prehensions, their docility, their pre­saging of future events; their speedy recourse many times to such remedies as have power to ease their distem­pers. How admirably is their Will guided, their appetite and aversion, by an ingenuous foresight, in mana­ging their designs, their sleights and subtilties, their regular choice of means to avoyd that which they fear? Though the story of the Dog seems to have too much of the Fable in it, which to get the drink out of a deep pot cast stones into it, till it advanced to the top: yet the stratagems of a Fox, which he uses to surprize his prey, or contrive his escape, are un­questionable. Historyes and Expe­rience afford variety of Instances. To say that these acute contrivances and subtilties proceed from a natural In­stinct, [Page 80] or an apish imitation of Rea­son, is to multiply words, which upon the matter signifie nothing. When the actions are of like nature, and the or­gans by which they are performed not at all different, the faculties surely are the same. But herein Beasts do fall short of Man, in that they cannot but reflect upon their own knowledge; they know not that they know a thing, they understand not the particular reasons of things, so as from thence to deduce an universal conclusion. They have single conceptions of things, as appears by their prompt and ready taking notice of them; they modifie, compound, and divide single appre­hensions, judge of them as pleasant or distastful, which appears by their inclinations to, and aversions from di­vers objects, and that in the absence of the objects, and when their senses are obstructed, as is evident by their dreams, in which they will by their alacrity express their content; and their fear, by shivering and trem­bling. Thus far they proceed in the contexture of Discourse; but they give us no Instance of their skill in the [Page 81] last action, which is to draw conse­quences from antecedents, to argue from Causes to Effects, to proceed from signes to things signified. Al­though a Dog, in quest of his game, or pursuit of his Master, seems to use a Logical trick, a kind of arguing, (and other beasts seem to do the like upon several occasions;) for, having scented first one way, then another, he seems to make two Negative Propositions concerning two Pathes, because he findes not the Tract; and earnestly pursues the third: which hath passed for a piece of Cynical Logick among some superficial Wits; yet if we ad­vert it well, in this Action, the Dog draws not any conclusion by regular discourse, but pursues the third Tract, only because some habituous steam (familiar to him) strikes upon the olfactive Nerve, which in the other Tracts did not.

For the operations of the rational Faculty, they are these: First, Simply and barely to apprehend an Object. Secondly, To frame in our mindes a notion of it, distinct from the notion we have of other things, to compound, [Page 82] or sever. And thirdly, To derive a Consequence or conclusion from what the first Actions suggested to us. Let the instance be a Tree: First, We ap­prehend in our mindes a real thing. Secondly, We frame in our mindes an Idea, or notion of a Tree, different from the notion we have of other things; we frame in our mindes a no­tion of a Tree, different from that no­tion we have of a Bird, and by a suc­cession, or orderly introduction of Thoughts, we compound or sever our Notions, wherein consists truth or fal­sity; for Truth is a connexion of things whose nature and essence a­grees, or a severing of things which dif­fer: Falshood a connexion of things inconsistent, or a severing of things in­separable; there being no falsity in things themselves, nor in our notions of them singly: when I consider these notions singly and apart in my minde; A Bird, a Tree, to fly in the Ayre, to bear Fruit: here's no errour, nor fal­sity. But when I joyn two agreeing notions together, and think, or say thus; A Tree beareth Fruit, or a Bird flyeth in the Ayre: there is truth in [Page 83] this Composition and Connexion of the terms: but if I say, a Tree flyeth in the Ayre, I joyn things inconsistent, and frame a false Proposition. Upon this second Act of the Understanding, the imposition of Names seems to have been grounded; for a Name is nothing else but a note of distinction, an ar­bitrary sign whereby we intend no more, than only to impart to another man a notion which we have of a thing named, different from the notions we have of other things. Proceeding on another step, we arrive at the third Operation of the rational Faculty: we finde that somthing will follow from what we gathered before; as thus: If a Tree beareth Fruit then it grows, and this we call discursion.

Some assistance may be afforded us in searching out the nature of the Understanding, or rational Faculty, if we reflect upon the notions we had of things when we were Children, and by what steps and assistances our knowledge advanced its self. A Childe when he hears of a Tree, he under­stands the word, because it hath been (as we take it for granted) often in­culcated [Page 84] to him, the thing signified by it pointed at, and shewed to him; and because it is a generally received word, whereby all men (so far as he knows) mean such a thing. But he cannot frame in his minde any Philo­sophical conception of it, only he fan­cies some particular Tree which he hath seen and remembers. But after a competent observing of several Trees, which he observes all of them to be erected with a full and strong stem, to be stretched and severed in­to divers branches, to bear Leaves and Fruit in their season; he lets slip the notion of a particular Tree, and frames an universal notion of it in such like thoughts: A solid bo­dy growing out of the earth, with boughs and branches stretched out, and bearing Fruit. So after he hath view­ed divers particular men, perceives them all to be of an erect body, and to talk one with another, he abstracts (or considers not) their individual properties, or appurtenances, their complexion, temper, cloathing, height of body, or the like; and when he thinks of a man, he frames in his minde [Page 85] such a description of him, a living Creature of an erect body, and that can tell others what he means. So this reiteration of Sense, called by some the speculation of Phantasms, is one step whereby we creep on to knowledge.

But for incorporeal things, which we observe not to make any vibration, or pression upon the Organs of Sense; or (as some expess it) have no Species wasted over from their utmost Orbe to our Senses, in these it is a great while before we can advance our thoughts any further, than the bare importance of the words by which they are expressed. God, Angels, Spirits, and our souls, we have very unsatisfying notions of them, the ef­fects and remarkable operations which all men necessarily attribute to them, satisfie us that they are; but when we go about to conceive what they are, we are lost, and content our selves to say they are incorporeal, immortal, in­visible; as much as to say, we know what they are not, we know not what they are.

[Page 86]Generally received Axioms, and clear fundamental Propositions, con­trived already to our hand, common­ly finde easie admission into our Un­derstandings, yet with some diffe­rence; for that truth which to one man seems very cleer, another cannot perswade himself to believe it: and to the same man some propositions seem credible, others not. Many times he suspends his consent, and then he is sayd to doubt; if he con­sents warily and weakly, he is sayd to have an opinion: or firmly, and then he is sayd to believe. If this belief be procured by the evidence of the thing its self, then it is called demon­stration; if by rational arguing, con­viction; if by humane testimonies, we may term it perswasion: if by in­fallible and divine authority, Faith. Which degrees of Knowledge (if we consider rightly) proceed not from any difference in the things, but from our Understandings, which look up­on them with a different aspect. And so much concerning a second step or help to our Understandings, which is a borrowing of assistance from others.

[Page 87]When any thing is offered to a mans disquisition, a single Notion, a Proposition, or dubious Question, what does he then do? but (as the usual phrase is) cast about in his minde, rally his Thoughts, and put his Understanding into such a posture that it may finde it, and irradiate it: for the Understanding is of the nature of Light, the more or less it illumi­nates a thing, the clearer or obscurer is the reflection and representation of it to us. Then if the Truth be of such a nature, that it correspond with that in-bred Light, those innate Notions which Nature (by which I mean, the power and working of God in his Creatures) hath imprinted in his minde, which in several men are very various, of different degrees and qua­lities; how soon does he own it? he cannot perswade himself but that he had some labouring apprehensions of it before, and wonders he should be so long before he should finde it out: and so here seems to be discovered a third means of procuring and advan­cing our Knowledge, which (to a­voyd new fangled terms) may be [Page 88] called the light of Reason. That there is such a thing as this, will be easily granted; if we consider, how that the first Inventer of any Science, [...]eived not instructions from others, b [...]t wrought out all by the meer a­ [...]e force of his Understanding, and that he which learns a Science, is usu­ally prae-possest with some general Notions of what he addresses himself to learn: and therefore the fundamen­tal Axioms or Principles of Arts are not undertaken to be proved, because they are supposed to be evident to mens Understandings, which com­plies with them as soon as they are de­livered. Education and Institution infuse not any new quality into the Soul, but only excite and draw forth the latent Notions; as the Sun by its influence draws forth the Earth to its utmost fertility. There is in our Souls a natural harmony or consent to the Principles of Sciences, but yet with a difference; for one man is more incli­nable to this, or that Science, than an­other; not from any real difference in the nature and substance of the Soul its self; but from the various as­pects [Page 89] it carries with things; and the several postures men put themselves into to pursue their ends.

By these admirable faculties and opperations through which we have traced the soul, it will appear, that it is. To apprehend exactly what it is, and where it peculiarly resides, is a matter of great obscurity; yet to procure some satisfaction to our cu­curiosity, let us suppose that there is in every living creature a pure and agile substance, composed of (or at least resembling) aire and fire; such a substance as this will be capa­ble of projecting, and expanding its self, will have an active quick motion, and easie penetrability, especially through the Veines, Arteries, and Nerves, into every part of the body: and withall be capable of perceiving any vibration or pression made upon the parts of the body to which it is expanded; and such a substance is the soul of a beast: Again, suppose such a substance dignified with a su­peraddition of power from God, and a command to exercise such faculties as have been recited, and so we have [Page 90] a tolerable and convenient account of the soul of man.

But to reassume my method, Timo­clea (as alwaies so especially) du­ring the time she was with child, ob­served good order in her diet, which was of meats of good nourishment, but sparing and moderate, and in ex­ercise, without which no body can enjoy a convenient state of health, no not that of Infants unborn; sedenta­riness in the Mother begets a dull un­activenesse in the Babe, moderate walking prevents it: Nor was she less sedulous to avoid all disordered pas­sions, and perturbations of the mind; which, as they excite some unbecom­ing symptomes in the Mother, so they operate upon the Child; of so great importnance is it to the framing of a well shaped and well tempered babe, to prevent annoyances before he be born; many perturbations of mind and indecent gestures of the body may probably owe their original to some indiligences of their Mothers before they were born.

Being born they administred unto him a small quantity of refined Sugar, [Page 91] to clear the bowels of such slimy hu­mors as usually reside there, and cree­ping into the veins might produce convulsions, or other dangerous symp­toms; they wash'd him in clear fountain water with a small quantity of salt, thereby to dry & consolidate the flesh, and strengthen the sinewes. After they had first carefully cut the umbilical vein, lest the parts thereabout should prove ill proportioned and irregular. Vracus enim (ut perhibent) nimis co­arctatus, & constrictus, genitalia mem­bra comprimit et sterilitatem plenumque inducit, idem praeter justum laxatus, & distentus, vesicam ei annexam quasi poudere quodam iisdem partibus in­cumbere sinit; unde penis in masculo, uterusve in foemina supra modum au­getur & cafesit, non sine priapismi & immodicae salacitatis periculo. Nor were they less sedulous in wrapping and swathing his little body to fortifie it against the cold, and keep the parts from wringing and swerving aside, and retain the hot exhalations from breaking out of the body.

But neither did they swath him too streight, nor immure him up too warm; [Page 92] the first by crushing in the breast and ribs (which are then but cartilagine­ous and flexible) hinders the free pas­sage of humors, and may beget dan­gerous obstructions: the other may contract a weak and effeminate tem­per, unfit to encounter with variety of air and weather, to which he must afterward of necessity be exposed. But as they cherished him by conve­nient heat, so as his condition might by degrees, and not on a sudden, de­cline from that he enjoyed in the womb; so by degrees they prudently inured him to the several qualities of the air, when no excess prohibi­ted it.

Timoclea her self was his Nurse, this she accounted her duty; and besides, more conducing to the good of the child, that she should receive nutri­ment from her whose temper was fa­miliar to him, than from a stranger, which cannot but alter the childes temper more or lesse: although in some cases it be prudence to admit of a stranger, as if the mother be of an infirm or depraved constitution; pro­vided that such an one be chosen, as [Page 93] is of a good temperature, and a vigo­rous elocution, which is of great effi­cacy to make the child lively, and be preparative to his good pronunciati­on. Timoclea accustomed him to eat often, but sparingly, because too much nourishment makes little ones gross and thick, the stomach full stuft, must needs thrust forth the parts ad­jacent, as every one will easily ima­gine, but it hinders their growth in height. The meates she gave him at first, were moist, and of easy dige­stion, agreeable to his present con­stitution, and such as were usually given to children; more firm and so­lid meats afterwards, as he grew in strength. All these diligences used about him, I have not collected as things remarkable and extraordina­ry; but only to shew that nothing considerable was omitted. But in this she observed some singularly, that she did not (as it is usual with Nurses to do) terrify him with bugbares, Chi­mera's, and such seemingly inno­cent fooleries, which they will often inculcate to them, and please them­selves with the starting and aversion [Page 94] the little ones expresse at the sight or hearing of such things as they usu­ally scare them with; for indeed every motion, action, or gesture of a Child carries a becomingnesse with it, and is pleasing to the beholders. This lu­sory astonishment of Infants seems to carry no great appearance of harm, yet may insensibly leave such an im­pression upon the fancy, that after reason and discression obtain force, they find some trouble to correct & undeceive themselvs: some indecent tripidation and commotion invades them at their incountring with such objects: and hence may proceed that secret aversion men find in them­selves from some things, (commonly called antipathy) a distast they took against it in their infancy, though no body observed how, or at what time; terror and sadnesse acquired in infan­cy, cause one ever after to be pensive and low spirited, and the same may be understood of any other passion of the mind: So true is the observation of a grave and wise author, that we own the well and evil being of our lives, to the discreet or ill managing [Page 95] of our infant years; Crying is a thing which in infants cannot be avoided, and (if moderate) wants not its bene­fit, it vents forth drowsie humors, which would make them unactive, purges the brain, dilates the passages about the brest, stirs up the natural heat, and makes them lively; but if excessive, exhausts the moisture and spirits too much, makes them dispo­sed to peevishnesse, and laies the foundation of a cholerick and fro­ward disposition.

When he began to walk about and prattle, he was entertained with such toyes as not only pleased his mind, but somewhat busied the memory and fancy, by numbering, ordering, and regular contriving: Although his Pa­rents love and indulgence was very great, yet they were so discreet as not to discover it to be so; they would not have him treated as a little Prince, or exercise a petty Monarchy in the family; but taught him to be obedi­ent betimes, and courteous to all though never so mean, assuring them­selves, he would be so much the more fit to govern with discression when [Page 96] time should be, he was not accusto­med to too much pleasure and liber­ty, to have his mind fulfilled in all things, but a restraint sometimes put upon him, to teach him contentedness, and the skill of willingly wanting something; all inimical affectation of gestures, and pomp of words was a­bandoned; commendations and in­couragements when he did well, cor­rection and rebuke for doing amisse, were not forgotten: the latter are as usefull as the former, where there is need; but for him they were not of much necessity, his Parents example and mild instructions were sufficient to keep him in good order; and I have formerly told the Reader, how prudently the family was governed, and what manner of servants retained; a thing very considerable, for there are no such pernicious enemies to good education, as rude and uncivil servants who condescending to the humors of children more than the Pa­rents and Masters ought to do, cause them to affect and learn their gestures and discourses, how rude soever; and many times they will endeavour to [Page 97] vilifie and bring into dislike him that instructs them otherwise. Many Pa­rents busying their thoughts about the limiting of their Fortunes and future Estates, take no notice of these Mis­chiefs. But in a Family where no re­markable Vice is tollerated, nothing but good actions seen, not an uncivil expression heard, (as it was in Chari­nus's house) where shall a Child learn evil? if at any time his Parents were undecent in their passions and expres­sions, (as some forcible occasion might urge them) they would not (if it might be avoided) let him observe it; much reverence and grave respect is due to an old man,Juven. Sat. 14. but more to a Childe: for the first, the fear is only lest he should see any evil in us; the other lest he should learn any by us: but whatsoever was exemplary and good, he was alwayes admitted a Spe­ctator at it, as their devotions, though in private; where, though very young, the frequent reiteration of the thing begat some kind of earnest observa­tion, and cast into his mind the early seeds of Piety, which revealed them­selves in mature fruits afterwards, as [Page 98] I intend to shew, if God permit. Cer­tainly, this ocular way of teaching is the certainest, where it may be had; one may sooner learn to steer a ship in the Sea by seeing it often done, than by a great many tedious Precepts and Rules; not only Children, but Men are led more by Examples than Precepts; those elaborate Discourses and earnest Exhortations to Piety and Goodness, wherewith some think to work wonders in reforming the World, have not so forcible an operation up­on men, as the example of one eminent Person. The People are as much in­structed by the eye as by the ear; and therefore he that hath the intention to make them irreligious, need but only astonish them with some strange sublime notions, take away their Ce­remonies and religious Services, which have something of visible in them, and the work is done.

Eriander was rather of a round than long visage, his eyes of a Hazle or Chesnut colour, equally fixt, ready and vigorous in motion, neither prom­nient, nor sinking in their orbits, his hair a bright yellowish colour, but in­clining [Page 99] by degrees to brown: his fore­head somewhat high and smooth, and of a convenient bredth: his comple­xion florid and ruddy, mixt with a convenient blushing: his exterior li­neaments of an exact symetry, his sta­sture ever keeping a correspondency with his years, so that it was conjectu­red he would prove of a convenient middle stature: his skin betwixt smooth and rugged; his veins of a fit dimension, and his pulse moderate. His lovely countenance and sweet disposition caused him to be beloved of all Children; such as were of equal age and bigness would strive to ingra­tiate themselves into his favour, to keep him company, to study to imitate him, to please him, to be pleased and delighted with him. Comliness is of its self attractive; how much more when it is joyned with good condi­tions? it wins the love of people that are not rude and barbarous, diffuses a kind of hilarity to all that behold it. Indeed all the Characterisms and I­dea's of the Countenance are conta­gious, (the word may be taken in a good as well as in a bad sense) they [Page 100] fascinate, and at a distance infect the Beholders; whether it be by certain rayes, steams, or emanations emergent from them, which make a pression or light motion upon the nerves; espe­cially of such persons as are of a deli­cate and tender complexion: or whe­ther it be by some other occult means; but so it is, that one cheerfull man in a Company, one of a free dilated spi­rit, more or less irradiates the whole company with his presence into a se­renity of countenance; one sad per­son infects a whole company with some contagion of sadness.

Before Eriander was put abroad to School, they taught him to read and write at home, as it were by way of recreation, they had a smooth and square plate of brass, and of conve­nient bigness for a child to handle and carry about; in this Plate, or Table, the draughts and effigies's of all the letters in the Alphabet were ingraven exactly; they acquainted him with the true shape and distinct names of them, and caused him to follow the draughts of them with a little Stile, or Pensil provided for that purpose; by [Page 101] this running as it were in the Channels, and following the stream of every letter, while the hollow strokes re­strained his hand from going awry, he gained a dexterity in it, and was not a little assisted to write with pen and ink, because his hand was habitu­ated by this lusory way of writing; but in spelling, or forming of sylla­bles, (to which the eye contributes no advantage) they took the opportunity of all vacant hours to inculcate them by often repetition, endeavouring a­bove all things to procure a clear and distinct pronunciation, to which no more was required but practice; for nature had so framed all the Organs serving to speech, that none of them was mutilated, or irregular. They still prae-possess'd him with a love of Learning, and a desire of his Book and the School; contrary to the indiscreet practice of many people, who please themselves in terrifying children with the Rod and Ferula, whereby they bring them into a dislike of Learning, before they have discretion to know what it is. His Father obtained a good assurance of his proficiency, not only [Page 102] from his comly lineaments of body, ingenuous aspect, vigorous elocution, and the like exterior characters of a towardly nature, but from those more immediate and signal tokens which are less obvious, but afford more cer­tain and infallible presages. 1. A ready Wit, which appeared by his per­tinent answers to any question within the bounds of a childs capacity. 2. A faithful Memory, which discovered its self, by giving an ingenuous ac­count of any remarkable passage he had heard of. 3. He was patient and industrious, not like those hasty and volatile wits, who having a nimble apprehension, and confidence withal, perform all they go about with little pains, and in a short space raise great expectations concerning themselves; but soon spend their stock, become Bankrupts, and, like a nine-dayes wonder, are soon forgotten. 4. He had an earnest affection and desire to Learning; a thing so considerable that without a kind of love and earnest de­sire men seldom thrive in any profes­sion. 5. He was attentive, and would express a kind of exultation and ad­miration [Page 103] at the recital of any remark­able and ingenuous passage. 6. He was inquisitive, even to importunity; which in a child is commendable; and although it may seem to proceed from overmuch boldness, yet if it arise not to downright sauciness, it is not to be blamed; such a one will grow sedate as he proceeds in years. 7. He was very ready in imitating (not the Phan­tastical gestures and expressions of vain but) the decent speeches and ad­dresses of discreet and well-bred per­sons. 8. He modestly affected com­mendations, a powerful incentive to goodness, if it meet with an ingenu­ous nature; and a touchstone to try ones temper, whether he incline to Pride or Humility. Commendations for well-doing, and rebukes for an offence prevail more with a good na­ture, than blows; which also to one of a bad nature oft-times do more hurt than good; for obdurate spirits are so far from being cudgelled into goodness, that thereby they gather strength in naughtiness. These eight tokens meeting together in any child, promise good success, and (if due [Page 104] culture and instruction be adjoyned) silence all doubt of his proficiency in learning; but he that is not in some tolerable sort thus qualified, (though we ought not rashly and hastily to despair of any, what is now latent Time may reveal) is not fit to be a Student in the Liberal Arts.

At the age of seven years Eriander was admitted into the famous School of Entaphia, where we must now leave him at his book in earnest; that lu­sory and recreative way of teaching (which served as a preparative to make Learning seem delightfull) must bear date no longer; it will not suit with the discipline of a School. Now be­cause the orders and manner of go­vernment observed in this little Com­mon-wealth, were somewhat diffe­rent from such as are usually obser­ved in other Schools, it will not be a­miss to set them down. It was go­verned by a President or Provost, whose charge was to take Inspection of the Masters and inferior Officers, to instruct the Scholars in the principles of Religion and Manners, at certain times appointed for their instruction [Page 105] and examination; and especially to give order and direction, that every one should be fitted for that professi­and employment, to which, after due examination, he found him most incli­ned: the first or lowest Master (for e­very one was absolue Master over those that belonged to him) taught them to read and understand the lan­guage of the Country; the next taught them to write and cast up ac­counts, that so such as were not found fit to proceed to the nobler Sciences, might in due time be qualified for some other Profession, according as their peculiar Genius and their Parents desires invited them. The third taught the Latine; and the fourth the Greek tongue. Besides they had a Steward or Purveyer, which provided dyet & other accomodations for such as were remote from their Parents, and gave up his account to the President at the end of every three months.

The President and Masters had their convenient lodgings private and apart, as also a room to teach their Schollars in, but in the publick Chappel they all met together twice in a day; [Page 106] and in the Refectory or Dining-room: which being very capacious, served the Schollers as a Cloister to walk or recreate themselves in rainy or tempe­stious weather: In fair and clear daies they were injoyned to disport them­selves abroad in the open ayr, in a large Court provided for that purpose, and so scituated that the President might easily see from his Chamber and observe their carriage. The num­ber of Schollars under the first Master (by the statutes of the house) was not to exceed 30, and the same num­ber was alloted to the second; but the third and fourth might entertain 50, because such as they dealt with could be conveniently digested into formes, and so be taught together: but with the consent of the President, any of them▪ might somewhat exceed that number.

After that Eriander had been resi­dent there about a year, it was thought fit by the President, (having also consulted with his Father about it,) that he should be committed to the tuition of Amalthaeus, who was then Master of the Latine School; not [Page 107] as if the learning of a language were such a choice piece of breeding, (as some imagine, who derive all their hopes concerning their Children only from their nimblenesse in learning the Latine or Greek tongue, and de­spair of such as prove dull at them; whereas many become excellent at o­ther Sciences, who for want of a good memory and patience can never con­quer the difficulties of Grammer:) but they know that the Latine tongue and Greek (which he also learned,) being the receptacles of all Arts and Sciences, would be an incomparable advantage to him, whatsoever faculty he should apply himself to. They in­tended not he should be a plodding Student in the tongus, but having once made some Art his aim, should timely quit himself of the sollicitous search & critical inquiring into words. Though some drowsy braines can; (yet noble and ingenious minds cannot) perpetu­ally confine themselves to such studies, but having gained the principles of that Art which they intend to professe, and being fit to appear with some cre­dit; make use of their knowledge: [Page 108] which they every day increase and re­fine by conversation, discourse, and practice: whereas they that please them selves meerly in speculation, and re­duce not their knowledge to practice, applauding themselves with a brave conceit that they are learned men, the World puts them off with the homely title of meer-Schollars: and steems them as things of small use.

This Amalthaeus was a learned man and studious; but so discreet in the or­dering of his studies, that they hindred not his employments, nor disposed him to a Cynical morosnesse, whereby one becomes unfit for society. He made profession only of Grammer, but was not a stranger in other Arts, by help whereof he was the better able to il­lustrate what he read to his Schollars; there is a league between Arts, and they mutually contribute help one to another. He was of a moderate tem­per and winning carriage, could con­descend to the capacities and disposi­tions of Children, and so gain their love and attention, a dexterity which every learned man cannot attain to; Teaching is a skill by its self, in which a man of mean parts and no great [Page 109] learning, many times out-does the greatest Schollars. The most acute and ingenious men are usually fierce and impatient in teaching, they vex and torment themselves when they find that so hardly perceptible by another, which to them seem so easie; and in such a case (if discretion be wanting) they tyrannize over the wretched Children, & correct them not so much for their benefit, as to expiate their own fury. But Amalthaeus would not be angry except it were upon an ur­gent occasion; nor then without dis­cretion: he never corrected any for dulnesse, forgetfulnesse, and the like effects in nature, and was so diligent in admonishing, and exacting a strict account of their studies at set and known hours, and so constant with them, as they seldom gave him occa­sion to correct them for negligence: but for palpable and stubborn care­lesnesse, vicious and leud behaviour, he corrected them with severity.

It is a great question whether mild or severe discipline be best; the first place Children gratifie indulgent Pa­rents, and acquire the reputation of a kind nature to him that used it; but [Page 110] the latter obtains successe with more certainty; procures obedience and di­ligence, best curbs and restrains pe­tulant and stubborn natures, as mild­nesse without caution degenerates into remisnesse, and begets carlesnesse in those that are under government; so strictnesse without discretion, advan­ces it self into a furious tyranny, and begets a loathing; but where severity hath prejudiced one, it may truely be said that remisnesse hath undone a hundred. Those times, and those Na­tions wherein indulgence hath been in fashion, have produced men of spruce and spritely parts, commonly called wits: but they who have used strict discipline have ever bred the bravest men, witnesse the Spartans, ancient Romans, and some societies in our time; the sum of all is this, prudence accommodating its self to the particu­lar tempers of Children, observes a middle way betwixt both extremes, and deales with every one so as is convenient. This prudent observing of every Childs temper and capacity, is a thing especially to be commended to such as have the tuition of youth; [Page 111] but it cannot be brought within the compasse of any rules, being the result of many reiterated experiences, and much practice.

But to proceed, he invited and al­lured modest Children with com­mendations, good words, and some­times with gifts: the bold and stub­born he terrifyed with a stern look, & sharp correction. Such as were over-talkative were kept from company, they still invited to it; frolick disposi­tions allayed with a grave and serious look, the sad and pensive treated with a cheerful aspect. The industrious had their supernumerary hours of li­berty freely allowed them; for he knew that sedentariness produceth ill humors, which make them unactive, and hinder their growth; which con­venient exercise disperses, and causes them to returne to their books with the greater alacrety and vigor: The careless and slothful were kept strictly to their tasks, over nimble wits (for some such there are) were stopt in their careere, yet with a special care that they might not be discouraged; He found that a merry sharp conceit, [Page 112] or handsome rebuke prevailed with some, divers might be laughed or sha­med out of their naughtiness, others afrighted out of it; and accordingly he treated them. Sullen and Melancho­lick natures are of all others the most hard to be won; to humor and be­mone them, makes themselves con­ceited and pleased with their folly: severity makes them desperate; his way was to let them alone, and seem to take no notice of them for the pre­sent, till such time as the humor had consumed its self and was vanished; this done, he found seasonable rebuks and advice as effectual unto these, as unto any other: in this he imitated the prudent Physician, who first pre­pares and concocts ill humors, then attempts to remove them.

As to his exteriors, he was of a be­coming stature and personage, a stout spirit, and manly elocution: these contributed something towards the gaining of respect, and keeping in awe the little people, who are ready to disesteem one of a low spirit, chil­dish behaviour, or unhandsome li­neaments of body, though otherwise [Page 113] of abilities to teach them.

He had the happy vein of making his instructions pleasing, by couching and intermingling them with perti­nent fables and ingenious comparisons and examples; which insinuate into the minds of Children sooner, than serious discourses, that are not so quickly adverted by them. And that they might perfectly understand what he read or dictated to them, such or­der was observed, as that which went before induced that which followed by a natural consequence; and too great speed (which confounds tender wits) carefully avoyded: yet with an uninterrupted constancy. For, as in filling narrow-mouth'd vessels, if we powre a full stream upon them, more slips beside than runs in: So in tumultuous and precipitated teaching, many instructions are lost, because the intention of the hearer cannot comprehend them all: If any exer­cise were to be performed, which they had not used before, he would first do it himself, causing them to look on and observe; so guiding their hands, and as it were directing their [Page 114] steps, that they might afterward make tryall of themselves.

The method which he observed in teaching the Latine tougue, was not any new-fangled device of a private man, but such as was generally appro­ved of and allowed by learned men, and enjoyned by statutes to be used in that place. It proceeded by these steps. 1. They taught them to pro­nounce the Letters distinctly, and to know the difference. Then 2. They acquainted them with the nature of syllables: And 3. with the several kinds of words, and their manner of declining; omitting the scrupulous and lesse-necessary exceptions, till they had learned all the Grammatical Rules. Then 4. They proceeded to the usual and ordinary rules of con­struction; reading withall some easie Latine-book. And to imprint the rules of Grammer more firmly in their me­mory, they were obliged to call them to account by examinations once in three daies at least. Proceeding on to Authors, they 5. taught them the nature and differences of accents, and the points of distinction in sentences, [Page 115] that in reading they might know when to suspend and stop their voice, when to raise or depresse it; and besides that, They 6. caused them to parse every sentence, giving an account of words and points of construction, according to the rules they had lear­ned. It was 7. their office to shew the Schollars the order observable in construing; as if in the sentence there were a Vocative case, that to be ta­ken first. If a question were asked, the interrogative is first to be construed; If these be not in the sentence, (or if they be; then next to them) the no­minative case, and whatsoever agrees with it; the Verb, and whatsoever is governed of that, as an Infinitive mood, or casual word; but because practice and observation are the best guides in these things; therefore 8. they caused them to make frequent tryal; 9. So soon as they had through­ly learned the ordinary Rules of Syn­tax; they spake Latine not only in the School, but in the Refectory and at their play. 10. They used double translations 2 or 3 daies in a week; turned a sentence or two in some La­tine [Page 116] Author into the vulgar tongue, and laying aside their books, into La­tine again: which was a means to make them exact in the Orthography of both tongues, and prepared them for making Epistles, Themes, Verses and such School-exercises by way of Imitation, and such Exercises they made twice in a week.

This method (though disliked by some new-fangled persons, which ca­vil at every thing themselves devise not, because it was an old way of teaching, and thought too tedious by such as loved their ease) was so hand­somely managed by the dexterity of Amalthaeus, that the School very much flourished in his time, and bred up many excellent Wits; for, deliberate proceedings, & sedate advancements, accompanied with certainty, produce better effects in teaching, than over­hasty and precipitate courses: which make a great splendor for a while, but conspire with time to betray their own vanity. Some have adventured to comprize the whole Latine tongue in­to a portable Enchiridion, which be­ing throughly learned, they conceive [Page 117] the children thereby sufficiently ini­tiated, and able to manage their stu­dies of themselves, without any fur­ther expatiating in Authors; a de­signe very plausible; and pitty it is, it answers not expectation: for if it did, it would free the Teachers and Schollars of much trouble incident to the known way of learning a language by reading of Authors. It is probable that they who first recommended it to use, had formerly learned the Latine tongue by reading of divers Authors, and at last meeting with, or contriving such an abridgement, as comprized the most remarkable words and phrases, found a marvelous assistance afforded to their memory; which in small space retrived what they had so long quest­ed after in many volumes: whereup­on they fancyed that it might pro­duce a quick dispatch in teaching of young Schollars. Indeed to a man that hath spent some compentent time in the study of any Art, or language, a Compendium is a singular help to his memory: but one that comes raw and unfurnished, will never prove ab­solute Master of it, if he trades only [Page 118] in abridgements. To ingratiate this compendious method, they alledge by way of comparison, that a man may soon take a view of divers creatures inclosed in a room, such as Noahs Ark; whereas it would be a long and wea­ry labour to travel into several parts to take a view of them: So to peruse variety of words and phrases in an Enchiridion, contrived on purpose to exhibit them, is a work of smal labour and short time: True; but as he that views those creatures so inclosed, can­not take a particular view, or make so distinct observation of their natures as by traveling abroad and taking no­tice of their haunts, feedings, actions, and the like; because the very crowd obstructs his animadversion, & deprives him of a leisurable observation, ve­ry necessary in the exercises of me­mory. So he that attemps to gain a language crampt into a Compendium, whereby the sense becomes forced and obscure, shall never attain to it with so much certainty, as he that will take the paines to travel over the choicest Au­thors, where he may find his pains re­quited with a knowledge of the natu­ral [Page 119] and sincere meaning of words; the genuine use and extent of phrases: besides the knowledge of many excel­lent things on the by, which ever leave some impression upon the most per­functory and careless Reader, and will be useful in the ordinary translations of his life. Our progresse in learning resembles the motion of the shaddow of a Dial, the shooting forth of grasse, or (to take a comparison nearer,) the advancement of the mind in know­ledge resembles the growth of the body in stature; the most scrutinous eye is not able to discover each minute degree of augmentation: but it may easily be observed at convenient dist­ances of time. In which particular there is neverthelesse a great diver­sity; some after a small continuance at their books are able on a sudden to utter all they know, and make shew of more. Others are unready upon sudden encounters, who yet after a convenient research, can deliver (a lesse specious, but) a more solid ac­count of such things as seemed to be latent in them. And the same is ob­servable in men who lay claim to wis­dom [Page 120] or Religion, about which many will discourse with taking expressi­ons, and great ornament of words: whilst others cannot give a sudden ac­count of them, yet upon any occasion when they come to practice, clearly discover that they are guided by such rules that occur not at present to their remembrance. This is so well known to the wise, that whereas men of vul­gar understandings admire the first sort, they justly prefer the latter: and if such quick dilated wits some­times deceive wise men, it is but as glosed wares or counterfeit jewels im­pose upon men at the first view, which when exactly looked into lose their grace; or, as many Romances and Po­etical stories, which the oftener they are read, the less we are affected with them; whereas men of sedate and pro­found minds so thriftily manage their discours, that the oftener we converse with them, the more we may learn of them. Besides what hath been said concerning those compendious waies of teaching, it is very well known to the learned that such abridgments are usually made up of the Radical and [Page 121] chief words of a language loosly tackt together. But the learned know very well that an exact understanding of the particles and small words is excee­ding necessary, because in the use of these the idiom and propriety of lan­guages is chiefly seen: In which thing such abridgements being defective, cannot but fall short of what they pro­mise.

Their method for the Greek, be­cause it was not different from this for the Latine Tongue, I shall not need to describe: So it was, that Eriander proved a good Proficient in both lan­guages; insomuch that at the age of seventeen years, he was judged fit for the University; neither was he ever removed from that School, but kept close to the same method: a great ad­vantage doubtless to his proficiency, for young Wits, like young Trees, by being often transplanted are robb'd of their strength, and become unfruit­full. The reason is evident, for to omit that seldom any two Masters ob­serve the same method punctually in every respect; so that by changing the mindes of children are distracted, [Page 122] and the former notions disturbed: It is a great while ere a perfect alliance and correspondence betwixt the Ge­nius of the Master and Schollar can be acquired; which, though it seem a nicety, a kind of mysterious conceit; yet indeed is a principal matter to ad­vance his proceeding. This considera­tion is worthy to be recommended to those new-fangled and unconstant Pa­rents, who upon any smal occasion of dislike, post their Children from one Master to another, seldom for their good, though they change for the bet­ter. It is a bold assertion, and yet very true, and grounded upon suffi­cient observation; that a Master, or Tutor, of mean and ordinary parts, may teach a Schollar well enough, if he be diligent, and the Schollar capa­ble: (presuming the Schollar shall not be admitted under the tuition of one more ignorant than himself) for, by a continued diligence both will do themselves good, there being no such way for a man to improve his skill, as by communicating it and teaching o­thers.

And now that Eriander was to lanch [Page 123] forth into the world, and appear more publickly at the University, and such places of concourse and frequency; care was taken to put him under the tuition of a grave and learned man, and withall to procure him the ac­quaintance of such young Students, as, besides their conference and dis­course, which contributed much to him in relation to learning, might al­so by their civility of manners induce him to courses of Honesty and Manli­ness. There are not wanting in such places many that take occasion from their unripe years, good-nature, and unwary judgements, to make a prey of young Gallants; to whom (as they say of Harlots) they wish all good things except Discretion. It is certain that from seventeen to seven and twenty is the most fickle and dangerous part of a mans life; Before that time the Parents or Masters Authority, fear, or the want of occasions prevent or keep under many disorders, which then, if ever, will begin to appear; and are not so easily remedied, be­cause they are become more sturdy and inflexible, like stiff and tough [Page 124] bodies, which may by violence be com­pressed and drawn into such a Figure as their nature abhors; but so soon as the mastering violence leaves them at liberty, they return with a nim­ble jerk unto their natural state.

One thing I had almost forgot; his Father would never let him know what estate he intended to settle upon him, till he should arrive at such a pitch of discretion as to set no more than a due estimation upon it; he had observed, that the men­tion of riches to children often made them remiss in their studies, insolent in their behaviour, and not so tracta­ble and obedient as those which are under discipline ought to be; espe­cially if some Flatterer be ready at hand to tickle their ears with a plea­sing conceit, that they are born to an estate which will maintain them and their retinue bravely, without labour; a long worshipful title, which it is pitty to blemish with the name of a Schollar: these will supply all defects, cause the people to magnifie them, and shadow over all the stains of their nature and manners. But Charinus [Page 125] still told his Son, he must endeavour to apply himself to so me Science for his ornament and accommodation, though not meerly for his support, though his estate should be never so plentifull, yet to be brought up to an Imployment would be neither burden nor dispargement, but an advanage many waies. If an Estate fails, Indu­stry may support a man; If his com­plexion incline him to any particular vice, the wit of man never devised a better remedy against it than Imploy­ment; the thoughts of vain pleasures and the pensive remembrance of cala­mities privily steal away from an Ar­tist or Student, whose mind is im­merst in the contemplation of his Art: whilst he that for want of Imploy­ment knowes not how to give his thoughts entertainment, or keep com­pany with time, is almost necessita­ted to some vain or degenerate course, and having nothing to do, learnes to do ill.

For the choice of his study, or particu­lar faculty to which he should be desig­ned, it was now thought fit to consider of it; & provide that he should apply [Page 126] himself to such a course as was most a­greeable to his disposition; not forced upon that from which he might seem averse. It is true; a man of good parts & rare ingenuity, may by diligence at­tain a competent insight into any Sci­ence, so far at least as concerns the Theory; and to give a rational account of most Sciences is expected in a Schol­lar: yet there is a peculiar Genius, or propensity of mind in every man, whereby he is more vigorously in­clined to one Science than to another, and an infinite variety there is in mens wits, and natural faculties; the prin­cipal causes whereof are these.

1. The appointment and designa­tion of God, who having placed men in a world adorned with variety of objects, distributes to them diversity of notions and conceits to apprehend; different humors and affections to de­sire, some one thing, some another: thereby to maintain a general inter­course among them. But in regard that God works by second & subordi­nate causes, which fall more evidently under our observation, and many of them are manageable by us: We must [Page 127] secondly, consider the positions and aspects of the Stars; For experience (the only rule in these matters) seem to make it appear, that at the instant of a childs birth, (or rather more pow­erful at his conception,) he receives an influence from the Planets, or o­ther Coelestial bodies, which at that juncture of time have dominion over the place where the conception or birth is made. Such then as have Ju­piter for the Lord of their genitures, shall be quick-witted, merry and of a gentle nature. Where Mercury is Lord of the horoscope, his influence produ­ces (they say,) a quick wit, but ver­satile and unconstant. Mars causeth fierceness and temerity. Saturn makes men slow, but commonly sure. The Sun and Moon, according to their various aspects, produce several alte­rations in our bodies, in our sensitive faculties, (and accidentally in the un­derstanding, which often conforms its selfe to the sensitive part,) is clear by dayly experience, and it is probable that the other Coelestial bodies may in their degree produce divers admira­ble effects, though they be not so ob­vious [Page 128] and apparent, 3. The temper of the body hath a remarkable influ­ence upon the operations of the mind; for, as water sliding through a Mine grates off some part of the matter through which it slides, dissolves it into its self, and so admits a tincture and tast of the Mineral; or as rain­water which is of its self of an uniform tast and savour, is diversified when sucked into plants of a different tem­per; in Rue it is bitter, in Sorrel sowre, and sweet in Glycyrrize: so the Soul necessitated to move and act in a body full of several humors, al­though it receives no substantial alte­ration; yet by its operations it clear­ly discovers an alliance contracted with those humors, especially the ar­terial blood and spirit which are the Souls chief instruments; so that men of a hot temper (agreeable to the na­ture of that quality) are active, sprite­ly, of a ready conceit, quick dispatch, & (if the heat exceed) peevish, or fran­tick. The cold are slow, reserved, tenatious, and (if the quality exceed) disposed to Melancholy, sadnesse and despair. Moisture (if conveniently [Page 129] temper'd) causes a good remembrance; if otherwise, it makes men dull, heavy and sottish. A clear drinesse makes men discreet, of a clear wit, to dis­cern or illuminate things. Next to this 4. the different habitude and proporiton of the body may be of some force, for such as are of an im­mence stature, through the diffusion of the spirits, are observed to be (for the most part) dul and heavy in the ex­ercises of the mind: the little (through the combining and close uniting of the natuarl heat,) peevish, fierce and froward, and the middle stature is most commendable. But 5. a more remarkable and immediate cause may be derived from the various faculties of the soul, of which all men have not an equal share; some enjoy a good me­mory, and those are fittest to deal with such Arts wherein are many names, words, and rules. Such as have strong fancies, quick imaginati­ons, are fittest for such Professions in which there is required quaintnesse of discourse, handsome contrivances, symmetry or proportion. They who excel in depth of understanding, are [Page 130] best able to search out the nature and causes of things, to determine doubts and decide controversies, to make choice, and judge of things, to make subtil and deep inquiries, and are therefore best qualified for such Sci­ences as are guided by these exercises of the mind.Jo. Huar­tes & Anton. Zara. And to this Triplicity I find all variety of wits reduced, by those that have formerly written con­cerning them; and not inconvenient­ly; because these three faculties are of such remarkable effecacy in the gaining of learning. But in these fa­culties there is much variety, which deserves our remark: for if we look upon the judgement or understand­ing-faculty, we find this man quick, the other slow in the exercises of it; one man reserved and close, another free, open, and communicative: And the like differences appear in such as excel in the faculty of imagination, some are nimble, others deliberate, some of a recluse, others of a dilated genius. And as for the memory, some are readiest in remembring of words; some soonest remember places, others the names of men, but most mens me­mories soonest retain sentences orderly [Page 131] placed, few hath such vast memories as to recollect a multitude of indige­sted unconnexed words, neither would it be a thing of any great use, but words duly ordered and comprized, contri­bute a great advantage to the memo­ry; this variety which is discovered in these three faculties shall be ta­ken notice of in due place. 6. The different passions and several ends, to which mens appetites lead them are to be considered, a covetous man usually applies himself to some lucrative Art; an ambitious man to such as is most in esteem, and may further his promoti­on, and is content to be a stranger in the rest, which are not subservient to his design. 7. And lastly, Education, for the mind as it receives an impres­sion from those objects it hath been most acquainted with in youth retains them very firmely, by degrees falls in love with them, & by consequence with such Arts as have relation to them.

These are the principal reasons of that variety which is found in men in relation to the gaining of Arts; there are divers other, which because they have power to alter their complexion, [Page 132] humor and inclination, may occasio­nally dispose them to such Sciences as be most agreeable to the temper they have contracted: As 1. the Lawes, and 2. the Customes of Nations, which if good and wholsome, dispose people to industry and honesty; if corrupt, deprave their minds, blind the eyes of many men, silence the voice of na­ture, and raze the dictates of reason out of their affections, so as the most pernicious vice being tolerated by custom, will soon be approved and beloved by men, and gain the reputa­tion of a kind of Vertue; Wantonnesse will be accounted Good-breeding, and Licentiousnesse a generous Liberty, In­temperance Liberality, Impudence Courage, & valour; Drunkeness will u­surp the less-distastful name of Good-fellowship, Adultery lose its lesse-pleasing name under the title of Court­ship; nay, Incest its selfe, and other unnatural vices, have through the pre­valency of a corrupt custom passed without control among some whole Nations. On the contrary, Vertue is often traduced, and good qualities defamed by odious names; Modesty [Page 133] is accounted sillinesse, or want of wit and breeding: Temperance called co­vetousnesse, gravity and thrift clow­nishnesse. 3. Somthing may be at­tributed to the different forms of go­vernment men live under; in an A­ristocracie, we may observe the fervor, arrogance, and ambition of the Gran­dees; their engines and intricate con­trivances to raise monyes, to advance their families, to purchase great Ti­tles, to live in splendor, to subvert their equals, and keep under their inferiors; the publick concernments alwaies pretended, but never regard­ed; publick Revenues horded up in private Coffers; Vertue is discounte­nanced, discipline neglected; weal­thy men in great power, the inferior people slavish & beggarly: hence pro­ceed factions and animosities, trea­cherous attempts against great men, and the like. In a popular govern­ment the rich slavishly court the peo­ple, in order to the acquiring of pow­er, the people grow insolent and con­ceited: True and cordial Honesty is condemned, airy and frothy opinions of knowledge altogether in fashion, [Page 134] with a vaunting bravery concerning their own, and contempt of former times: a general licentiousness and toleration of all enormities prevails; youth is given over to all voluptuous­ness, and debauchery; which they miscal a free and generous liberty: and this the great men many times smooth­ly and closly connive at, because thereby an advantage is offered them of engrossing the Estates of young Pro­digals. (Such mischeifes may and do happen in the best government, but in this they seem more naturally to grow up;) Through this general to­leration and liberty every man begins to have a good conceit of himself, e­steemes himself not inferior to any, but as good as the best: Inferior per­sons arise by degrees to such a height of insolence, that they contemn their superiors; servants prove disrespe­ctive to their Masters, and children to their Parents; youth growes imperi­ous and stubborn; factions and disor­ders prevail among the people, who wanting means to secure their own quiet, and lay these disorders which they have conjured up; some cun­ning [Page 135] popular Grandee peradventure offers himself, or is made choice of to be their Guardian and Protector, who (to carry on his design with lesse suspition) salutes and courts the silly multitude; is their servant, and will sacrifice his Interest, his life and all, to promote theirs: but once advan­ced beyond their reach, makes a prey of them, keeps them poor, that so if they have the will, yet they may not have the power to resist him: To all men who are eminent either for Wealth, Wisdom, or Courage, he is in a manner necessitated to be an Enemy; and it shall go hard but he will charge them with some crime, that he may have some color to destroy them: but none sooner tast of his fury, than such as have been instrumental to his ad­vancment, if (as it commonly happens) they once begin to grumble at his greatnesse. And this is the original and nature of a Tyranny, which (if we believe Plato) ever arises out of a Democracy. De repub. Dialog. 8. But in a well setled Monarchy, the fore-mentioned disor­ders and corruptions of manners are not so often occasioned; Arts are [Page 136] more encouraged and esteemed, obe­dience and order punctually observed; men better restrained from naughty­nesse, and not so much inclined to pernitious Arts. Among other causes we may 4. reckon Company, and 5. Example, especially of great men, whose practice is thought a sufficient warrant for inferiors to do the like; vulgar persons readily comply with the humors of great men, as little Wheels are regulated by the motion of the greater. Besides 6. men incur manifest alterations by Age, not only in body, but in mind too: young men are generally frolick and kind heart­ed, old men morose and tenacious, a covetous young man (they say) is a Monster in nature; and as these hu­mors prevail in men, so do they ac­cordingly bend their studies to such things as suit best with their humors. 7. Dyet is of no smal importance, whether we respect the quantity, or the quallity of it: for although our Stomach macerate the meat and turns it into the very substance of our bo­dy, yet doth it not so subvert the qua­lities of it, but that of cold meats (viz [Page 137] meats of a cold quality) cold blood and humors are generated; so that our blood and spirits (by help of which we exercise all the operations of life, sense, and understanding) are varied according to the diversity of meats we feed upon; light and tenui­ous meats sparingly feed upon, cannot but convey some perspicuity to the Brain, and a full and grosse diet cloud and dull the Spirits. 8. The Coun­trey administers much alteration, and produces manifest differences in this particular, Northerly people through the density of their blood and spirits are stern, stout, and fierce. The Sou­thern having more thin evanid spirits become hereby more active. Islan­ders, because of that influence a mixt and unconstant Ayr hath upon their humors, are observed to be more un­setled in matters of Religion and go­vernment, than such as inhabit the Con­tinent. 9. Also particular scituations in the same Countrey are to be noted, For people that live by the Sea-side are more generally disposed to traf­fick, than they of the Inland-coun­trey; such as border upon ill neigh­bours [Page 138] give their minds to quarreling, either in Suits of Law or open War. And 10. the nature of the Soil, or ra­ther the Ayr altered by the Soil; as we see, that people who live in Moun­tanous and dry places, with a pure and clear Ayr, are for the most part, not alwayes, (some powerful cause may intervene) more acute, and pregnant than such as live in Fenny and Mo­rish places, where they suck in a grosse and concrete Ayr. 11. The Genius of the Age is not to be omitted, for sometimes seem peculiarly bent to feats of Armes; in another age learn­ing flourishes; and of the parts of lear­ning, sometimes one kind seems to be in fashion, and in the next Age ano­ther. 12. And lastly, the success and event of things, much alters the minds and affections of men, especially the common sort, who are easily cheated into a beliefe that whatsoever hath obtained successe is lawful, and to be practised: So that if any wicked design (for example Rebellion) obtains suc­cesse in a Countrey, it will soon ac­quire reputation among the vulgar; a vein of rebellion will diffuse it self [Page 139] into servants and all sorts of inferiour people, encouraging them to shake off the yoke of Authority: On the con­trary, many men are restrained from wickednesse, more by observing the ill event that attends it, than out of any inclination to goodnesse; many incouraged to vertue and wisdome, Arts and Sciences only by the reputa­tion and esteem they carry in the World; the good successe and profit that attends them. To these causes I should have annexed our Parents, and Nurses, the four Elements, and some other; but their efficacy is dis­cernable by what hath be said concer­ning the rest. As for the four humors and Complexions (to which all men are usually reduced) it is sufficient to say that the Sanguin are spritely and active in the exercises of the mind; except there be a superfluity of blood, for that makes men dul and heavy. The Cholerick are prompt and hasty. The Flegmatick lazy and unready. The Melancholick reserved, and commonly understand more than they can readi­ly utter.

To put every one upon that imploy­ment [Page 140] he most affects, and to which his particular Genius inclines him, (which was designed and much promoted by Euphorbus the President of Entaphia) is a work very beneficial; for it can­not be convenient for a Nation, either that persons unfit should be designed to serve their Country as Schollars, or that one man should engrosse divers employments, and undertake the pra­ctick part of several Arts, which per­haps have no alliance with (or de­pendance upon) one another. Com­mon observation discovers what mis­cheifes arise in a state, what disgrace accrues to learning, when divers emp­ty shallow fellowes drive a trade in the most noble Sciences; which might have been more serviceable to their Country in inferior Trades, all which are useful in their degree, and accor­dingly to be respected; but because they fall within the reach of every or­dinary capacity, and fittest for such as aim only at mean and contempti­ble designes, the purchasing of wealth and their private content, that care not for the improving the faculties of [Page 141] the soul, and raising it above the pitch of sense.

For Mechanical Professions and Ma­nufactures, he commonly advised that the Son should be brought up to his Fathers profession, if nothing had occasioned him to dislike it. But if Parents had resolved before hand upon a profession for their Child, (wherein all Parents think themselves wise enough to be their own guides) then he gave order that occasion should be taken to acquaint him with some passages tending that way, so as the frequent meditation of them might beget a liking and prepare him by degrees for it. The exterior visage afforded but smal help to this discovery of Childrens wits, being of­tentimes no sufficient surety to war­rant the ingenuity of the mind; it is confest that the perturbations and affections of our minds are discove­red with some probability by cer­taine extant motions, and obvious representations which they make in the Veines and Muscles of the [Page 142] countenance; so that it is easy to dis­cerne when one is angry by the sudden commotion of the blood, and distor­tion of the countenance; when he is merry, by the pleasant diffusion of the blood, and erection of the coun­tenance; when sad, by the reduction and retyring of the blood and spirits and dejection of the face: unlesse a man deeply dissemble the inner moti­ons, (as some can do) so as no re­makable type of them shall appear outwardly. Further some by compar­ing the various Figures and Postures of mens countenances with those of Beasts, thence conclude an alliance in their natures and dispositions: thus a broad Brest, great Shoulders, Sterne look, hair curled towards the end, and glaring eyes, argue a man fierce and hardy as a Lyon: and it's usual to say of such a one, he looks like a Lyon: he that hath a demiss countenance,Jo. Bapt. Portae Phisiog­nom: human: lib. 1. and fixt eyes, with the ball of the eye som­what broad, we call him a Sheeps-head, as being of a tame and humble nature. One that reins in his neck, go­ing with an erect and lofty head, we probably conclude him to be proud, [Page 143] stately and contemptuous as the horse; a prying sharp countenance argues one wily and subtil as a Fox, especially if there be also a resemblance in the Eyes, which give the surest judge­ment concerning the affections of the mind, and are cheefly to be regarded in these conjectures. But to discover by the countenance mens manners, is a thing that cannot be done with any certainty, much lesse their aptness or ineptitude to learning, least of all their particular propensities to this or that Art; because many bely their Phisi­ognomy, cancel those promises to which nature hath set her hand in their countenances, so that (as the proverb saies) their good faces were ill bestow­ed on them; others whose rude and ill favoured lineaments of body might presage some obliquity in manners, or dulnesse of capacity; by education, study & conversing with wise men, wash away the spots and stains naturally incident to their temper. For whereas three things conduce to the making of a man compleat, Nature, Instructi­on, and Example: where the first is deficient, the other may fix deep im­pressions [Page 144] of vertue upon the mind, to which if practice be added it produces a real habit, and custome becomes a second nature. But from the manners and behaviour of Children pregnant conjectures may be raised concerning their wits, therefore he earnestly ob­served whether a Boy were courteous or morose, honest or given to cheating, just or partial, which may be discove­red by putting him into an Office, though but Monitor in a School: in these particulars notwithstanding, he cautelously discerned, whether they proceeded from nature, or were acqui­red: especially he observed how one be­haved himself when angry, nature irri­tated will bewray it self in the most recluse minds. In their studies he ob­served whether they were vigorous or remiss, cheerful or drowsie, speedy or slow; In their carriage whether they were bold or modest, in their apparel whether spruce or carelesse: and last­ly, in their play whether they expres­sed a dexterity and ingenuity in it, or were blunt and unready: from all which put together, many useful mo­tions may be collected; though many [Page 145] men cannot obtain of themselves so much humility as to condescend to the observation of such mean things.

To learn a Language in a short space, to remember Stories and Tales, to be ready in answering questions, which one hath been formerly ac­quainted with, are arguments of a good memory.

They which excel in the faculty of Imagination, soon learn to write fair­ly, no draw intricate flourishes and Pictures: are cunning in childish Architectures, and Carving: play readily at any game, delight in spruce­nesse, love to be praised, and are soon surprised with admiration.

But to resolve a strange and new question, to render a pertinent reason, to delight in serious matters, to love Meditation, Solitude and Retiredness, are probable instances of a solid judg­ment. Such are likewise modest, care­lesse in wearing their apparrel, (at least not fantastical in it) and com­monly appear very unready at play and Toyes.

But two things he chiefly used whereby to assist his discovery.

[Page 146]1. When a Child was advanced to some competent discretion, he demanded of him what Calling he cheefly desired, and upon what grounds? If he ob­served his affection to any Art procee­ded not so much from appetite as rea­son, not because he observed such a man of that Calling to live in splendor and wealth; but that he was moved to it by the peculiar bent and inclina­tion of his mind; then he esteemed his answer as prophetical, assuredly concluding, that an earnest affection, and impetuous inclination to any Art seldome proves unsuccessful. If he judged him fit for any learned Profes­sion, then 2. he propounded some material questions in several Sciences, in such plain and familiar termes as fitted a Childs capacity, observing wherein he gave the best account: or else he represented the nature of them in short axioms and propositions, to which if he gave a ready assent, see­med to be taken with them, and could out of his own notions somewhat in­large upon them, It was not to be doubted but that he might attain that Science which he could so readily [Page 347] apprehend. Truth is of a marvellous winning nature, and invites one to correspond with it though he never heard it before, and therefore the fun­damental principles of Arts win be­lief with most men; but now when a very youth not only grants such a thing to be true, (which is not much to be regarded in this matter) but is marvellously affected and taken with it, supplies and makes up more than the words import, by his own ingenu­ity, [...]nd gives some reason of his so doing; this turns our conjecture into a certainty, at least such a certainty as can be attained concerning future things. And because this is a materi­al point to know the grounds upon which the cheif Sciences (at least) depend, before we can arrive at a per­fect discovery how and by what fa­culty of the soul they are attainable: See a very breef account of some of them; and first concerning the know­ledge of God.

If we attentively and with delibera­tion consult our own thoughts, we shal meet with this primary and origi­nal truth, that 1. There is a God; a [Page 148] proposition naturally imprinted in the mindes of men, as it appears even by the universal consent of all Nations, not excepting those who are remote from the civiliz'd part of the world; If we recollect the thoughts that attended us in our Infancy, when our minds were not tincted with any corrupt opinion, we may remember that the bended Knees, and earnest invocations we ob­served others to use, suggested some apprehensions of a Divine power, some invisible Agent whose help w [...] stood in need of; and if one should goe a­bout to raze out this thought, to bribe and corrupt his mind into a contrary perswasion, he would find his con­science very tenacious and resolute in bearing witnesse to the truth.

I ever thought that the testimony of mens consciences was the most substantial argument to evince the truth of this first maxim,Ren. Des Cartes medit. 3. de prima Philo­soph. and am since confirmed in this opinion, because I find it to be the only argument used by a most acute Philosopher of this Age, though obscurely (as one may say) illustrated by him with Meta­physical terms; the sum of whose discourse amounts to thus much; that [Page 149] reflecting earnestly upon his own mind, he finds an idea or notion of a being intirely-perfect: now of whatsoever we have such a notion it is necessarily consequent, that the same must exist, not that our Idea or notion causes its existence; but its existence is the foun­dation of our notion of it, and that not in posibility but reality: To ex­ist in posibility only agrees not with the nature of that which is most per­fect, because to such an existence there's somewhat wanting, viz. real existence: so that in the very notion & Idea of a nature wholy-perfect a rea existence is necessarily included.

If this proposition seems latent in some mens minds, (as it happens to such as seldom or never converse with their own thoughts) it may be exci­ted in them and confirmed in others: 1. By observing the wonderful frame and Fabrick of the World in general, and the curious contrivance of eve­ry particular body: It's granted by all men that lay any claim to reason, that the particular bodies of the uni­verse (considering them in the state they do enjoy) were made of some prae-existent matter, which certainly [Page 150] could not digest its self into the shape of a Plant, Mineral, or living creature, no more than a heap of stones and mortar can erect themselves into the shape of an House, or a multitude of Letters by any fortuitous concussion digest themselves into a complete Sen­tence; therefore we must acknow­ledge that this first matter was regu­la [...]d and put into motion by a su­preme and primary Agent. 2. Some again are confirmed in this truth by considering the erection and conser­vation of Empires: and on the other side, the strange methods of subverting them in despite of all the counter-con­trivances of men.

[Page 151]Or 3. by a retrogradation and tracing of succession to some first consistency, and the revolution of causes, wherein the dependance of one cause upon ano­ther will lead us to some first cause, whereon to rest. 4. By observing that natural bodies being restrained & limi­ted to uniformity in their motions and actions, sometimes make an excursion beyond their ordinary bounds, and act beyond themselves, whereby it appears that they are subdued to yield obedience to a supreme Agent.

If the Opinion that there is no God hath committed a Rape upon some mens judgements, those persons are so few, that it is no prejudice to this first proposition. 1. Some perverse men, out of a bravery of spirit, or a fond desire to become the talk of the World after their deaths, have wran­gled about it, and made it a disputa­ble point. 2. Others, to acquire a full complacency and freedom in their beloved pleasures, or the resolute sa­tisfying of their mindes in some vio­lent passion, have peradventure at­tempted to deceive themselves as much as they could, and to imagine there [Page 152] was no God; lest the fear of him should abate the eagerness of their desires which they laboured to sharpen, to the end they might securely attempt that to which their affections promp­ted them. 3. An interrupted fruition of all things desired may choak the na­tural notions concerning God in some men, and superinduce a forgetfulness of him. 4. Perpetual and sordid Po­verty without any vicissitude and re­turn of competency and content, starves the thoughts of God in many abject and low spirits, which crave the taste of indulgent goodness. 5. Many stumble and perplex themselves with doubts by observing the meanness of pious men, and success of wickedness, and the like inequalities of Provi­dence; for, though it be a certain truth, that Piety is successful, and Wickedness unhappy; yet common experience and observation objects, that pious men (at least so reputed) are oft-times miserable and unhappy, prodigiously wicked men, Murderers, Tyrants, and irriligious persons live in splendor and wealth, to a compe­tent age, and sometimes die in their [Page 153] beds of a natural death in great quiet­ness of mind. To undeceive our selvs, and rescue us from the injury these Observations do to the truth, It may be safely affirmed that the infelicity of pious men is laid upon them either as a means to render their patience, and other Virtues more conspicuous, or else as a punishment for some crime, which though men have not observed, yet God, who pursues sin through paths not adverted by us, will be sure to chastise men for evil doing. But then the prosperity of wicked men puzzles us far more; to say that God raises them up on purpose to expose them to a more remarkable ruine, doth not fully take away the doubt; for, besides that it seems to argue a kinde of envy and fury in the course of Di­vine Providence; the event of things doth not alwayes favour this assertion: The safest way to resolve it is this, that God who made all men obligeth himself to maintain all indifferently; to the best he affords the best blessings, Virtue, Wisdom, a competency of all things with contentedness, a good name in their life and after death: [Page 154] If to vitious men he allowes honour and wealth, victory and prosperity, it may be for some good which he ob­serves in them, and which he will bless wherever he findes it: or else to bring about some remarkable work, as the punishing and plaguing of a Nation, for which the worst of men are the fittest Instruments; or the accom­plishing some other design, to which this seeming irregularity in provi­dence may conduce, although it be not easie for men to discover it. 6. And lastly, the absurd and dishonorable abuses which many that lay a great claim to Religion put upon God, may cause some unsettled spirits to reject Religion its self, and become Atheists. The World is often pestred with such Vermine, as being about to commit some huge piece of impiety, some hor­rid Villainy, which in its proper co­lours would affright the people, dis­guise it very sprucely with a Vizard of Holiness, and recommend it to the unwary multitude under the notion of a pure religious work, tending to the interest of Religion, and advance­ment of Godliness; by which means [Page 155] Religion its self, the most illustrious ornament of mankind (when rightly used,) is sometimes made an Instru­ment to undo them.

The second Maxim in natural The­ology is, That there is one God; nor hath this met with so much contradi­ction in the World as some may ima­gine; for although the magnifying of benefits received from Creatures, the inordinate love to some things, or fear of others, may have caused men to en­tertain reverend thoughts of (and pay a kind of adoration to) them; inso­much as not only renowned men, but several sorts of Beasts, Birds, and Fishes have been worshipped: and a numerous generation of Deities ob­truded upon the faith of a credulous World, yet the wisest part of men have in all Ages acknowledged onely one God.

Thirdly, Nature informs us that God manages all these inferior things by his Providence: and 4. That he is to be worshipped, every Nation be­ing studious to prescribe Rules, and institute some such significant and powerfull Ceremonies, as might heigh­ten [Page 156] their affections in their religious services. Thus far Nature guides men in this Science concerning God; these Propositions a man may make out by retiring into himself, and en­tring into a right posture of Medita­tion. What propositions are over and beside these, are either consequences drawn from these, or the dictates of Faith.

Such as take upon them to assert and maintain points of Divinity, and to confute Opposers; that search into the grounds and causes of things, infer, distinguish, and draw conclusions, have need of a sollid judgement and much discursive learning. But to un­fold & deliver precepts to the people is a work accomplished by the memo­ry and imagination, so that many who have no great depth of judgement taking such assertions upon trust as they find delivered by others, order and contrive them into a method, according to their fancy, offer them to the people with fluent perswasive expressions, a pleasing elocution, and winning gestures: whereby they erect to themselves the same power­ful [Page 157] Orators, because the common peo­ple (who are the greatest part of men) are more affected with the speech and exterior presence of a man, than with his reasons: a confident affirming of any thing prevails more with them than a demonstration. The dictates of Faith find admission soonest into the minds of such men as are of a tracta­ble, Modest, and Obedient temper, free from curiosity, prejudice, self-conceit and pride.

The Principles by which Moral a­ctions are guided, are not to be found so sincere among the spruce & polite Nations, whose judgements through custome, self-love, or some other in­centive, are easily perswaded to call that a dictate of reason, which makes for their own pleasure or advantage, as among the poor naked Barbarians, among which we may suppose one, neither illuminated by an extraordi­nary indulgence of Divine Grace, nor depraved by persuing of any base ends. Such a one limits his actions ac­cording to these few Rules. 1. I must indeavour to preserve my self, & be­cause I cannot do this, unlesse I be in [Page 158] a league and hold community with o­ther men (every particular mans pre­servation being wrapt up and includ­ed in the general concernments of mankind) Therefore 2. I must nego­tiate a free commerce, and traffick with others indifferently; and in the managing thereof, 3. Deal with o­thers as I desire they should deal with me. To extend the Rule of self-pre­servation so far, as that by vertue thereof every man should claim what­soever might make for his emolument, and seek to cut others short, would be as erronious as dangerous; for if I assume such a Latitude of power to my self, and deny it to others, I am not onely unjust, but by arming my self against all men, arme all men a­gainst me. If I allow it to all men in­differently, I goe about to destroy humane society, and therein my self, by instructing men to prey upon one another, and me among the rest: so that instead of ratifying, this would disannul the first & grand law of self-preservation. 4. I must maintain peace with all men. 5. Be courteous to all men. 6. Accomodate others as far as [Page 159] may stand with convenience. 7. Per­forme Covenants. 8. Gratify others for curtisies received. 9. Pardon any man that hath injured me, upon his submission and sufficient caution for the future. 10. Preserve my self in such a state of mind and body, by curbing my passions & intemperances, that I may not be deprived of the use of reason. These Rules (by what hath been said) will easily appear to be not onely consistent with the Law of self-interest and preservation, but so interwoven with it, that without these that cannot be in force: and though these Rules be general, yet from them may be derived punctual directions to guide men in the carrying on of all particular affairs; for, if the Under­standing be rightly seasoned with these, the Inclinations and Motions of the Will presently become tractable and obedient.

The knowledge of right and wrong is natural to all men, it is as regent o­ver all our actions. I grant it is very often usurped upon by factious passi­ons, by corrupt opinions which men unwarily admit, and suffer themselves [Page 160] to be governed by them. Yet I be­lieve, that he that is professedly wic­ked, if he allows himself any leisure to consider what he doth, cannot commit an evil action without some dissatisfaction and reluctancy; but his unhappiness is, that being transported and prepossest with a corrupt passion, or opinion, he furiously pursues that which his appetite desires, and admits not any leisurable arguing or delibe­ration, as the vertuous man doth; who when any thing reducible to pra­ctice holds his mind in suspence, and incumbers it with difficulty, frames in his thoughts the contradictory to it, making two practical propositions; this is lawfull. It is not lawfull: which being contradictory, cannot both be true; he examines them judiciously and warily, distinguishes which is to be asserted, which rejected. Or (as some observe) there is a Syllogism contrived in mens thoughts. All vice is to be avoided; This is a vice, Then it is to be avoided. A vertuous man concedes the whole Argument. An incontinent, or wavering man, grants the major; but being placed in a [Page 161] middle state between virtue and vice, is unresolved in the minor. A despe­rately wicked man regards neither, his furious appetite prevents all the con­clusions his reason would collect from the premisses.

Although I made a supposition, that the principles of morality were to be found most sincere among the simple and illiterate, yet relating the qualifications of an exact morall man; one shall be, that he be of good parts, well bred, and have a solid judgment: for such a one will manage his actons according to the rules of Reason, more dexterously and judiciously, and im­prove them with more advantage and splendor. 2. Then it is required that he have a command over himself, be able to subdue his passions, and make them stoop to his Lure. Freedome from all passions is a state of mind not attainable, and (if it could be attained) useless and unserviceable. Passions are of themselves things indifferent, unrestrained they disturb the opera­tions of the mind, and put men out of course, by representing various ob­jects under the notion of good or bad, [Page 162] pleasant or unpleasant; the soul up­on the apprehension thereof is ready to move the bloud and spirits rashly and disorderly: insomuch as the light of Reason is obstructed and di­sturbed, and the Actions of the Un­derstanding become irregular. As Vapours in a full stomach fume into the head, disorder the visive spirits, and produce error in the sight: but prudently managed, they become ser­viceable and advantagious. Anger may make a man heroick, valiant and hardy. Joy adds speed and resolu­tion, and inforces a man oft-times to go beyond himself in dispatch of bu­siness. Fear and grief (though they seem to be sluggish and unactive) may sometimes do a Curtesie by making men circumspect and wary: Some­times a kind of fear arises from an in­superable necessity, or huge danger, that wings the Resolution, and begets courage; necessity of action quickens the sluggish spirits, enforces a man to volour and eloquence, and makes him ready to attempt any enterprize. Meer necessity makes some men active, and Despair its self begets Hope. [Page 163] Love widens and inlarges the minde, inclines men to do favours and kind­nesses, from which flowes the grea­test pleasure that can be. Ambition and love of honour, (though often ex­travagant in compassing its ends) in­clines men to gallantry of spirit, to hate baseness, to be mercifull to Sup­pliants.

The Law of Nature is a Rule re­sulting from the light of Reason, and directs men in the managing of their actions, especially as they are Mem­bers of a Common-wealth; and being written with indelible characters in their mindes, invites them to corre­spond with such positive humane con­stitutions as are agreeable to it. Po­litick and municipial Laws are but as a Commentary upon this original Law, and the more conformable they are to that, the more free reception they meet with among men.

It commands 1. Self-conservation; and 2. Multiplication of the kind. 3. Equality to be allowed among men. 4. That God is to be worshipped. [Page 164] 5. Good to be chosen, evil to be a­voided. 6. A greater good to be cho­sen before a less. 7. Parents to be honoured. 8. That we ought to deal by others as we desire to be dealt by. 9. That we restore things com­mitted to our trust. And 10. Desire peace and rest. 11. That we usurp not the privilege of being our own Judges. 12. That we be ready to pardon And divers other Rules which a man may collect by Medita­tion. There is in the mindes of all men, not brutish, a Rule of Reason, which avouches what is good, what bad: what is right and wrong; for Humane Laws do not define or decree that; neither can they. A Tyrant may constrain men by perverse Laws, to do that which is unjust; but he cannot constrain them to judge and esteem that which is unjust to be just, that freedom they will have in dispite of him.

Could this law of nature be univer­sally received and observed, it might sufficiently secure the Peace and wel­fare of men; but in regard that passi­on [Page 165] and error oversway reason, and wrest the dictates of natures Law, for­cing them to serve base ends; and so long as men are what they are, men; these corruptions and exorbitances cannot but obtain: Lest some men under a pretence of the law of Nature should incroach upon too great a power to the prejudice of others who could be content with a calmnesse and moderation to be ruled by reason: Therefore to secure the general quiet, men put themselves under the pro­tection of humane Lawes, which as occasion serves, abridge and restrain the law of Nature. For Example, whereas Nature teaches and com­mands self-preservation, and propa­gation of the kind: If one man goes about (under a colour of sufficiency and provision for himself) to defraud and destroy others; it is thought fit to consult for the good of the whole body politick, by cutting off such a dangerous member: Nature teacheth us to do no lesse in the natural body. Nature allowes equality among men, but they have found it convenient and necessary to decline from this rule, [Page 166] and for their more commodious coha­bitation and government, to be con­tent that one man should be invested with a greater share of Sovereignty than the rest. It is agreeable to the law of Nature, that a thing committed to my charge should be restored upon demand; But if I receive a Sword from a man, who afterwards in a fury or rage should demand it; and (I strongly persume) with an intent to kill an other; should I deliver it, pre­tending to gratify Nature by observ­ing her law, I should become accessary to the breach of another law, and commit a greater injury. So that it is necessary sometimes to restrain the generality and latitude of the law of Nature, by humane Lawes; which be­ing of infinite variety and number ac­cording to several Countries and con­stitutions of government, it will not be required that I should speak any more concerning them upon this oc­casion.

Those that deal in the Lawes, are Law-makers, Judges, Pleaders, Advo­cates, Solliciters, and the like, in a Law-maker; (leaving all controversies [Page 167] concerning the power of enacting Lawes, the extent of them when en­acted, the concerment of the people in their enacting, or the repealing of them, and the like to wiser men:) I think it sufficient to say, that he be judicious, and impartial: Humane Lawes should be fitted to the consti­tution & temper of the people, with a regard had to the circumstances of times and places, to penetrate into which requires a reaching judgement: nor ought there to be any gratifying of particular men, Parties, or Factions in the making of Lawes: the punishing of men for aversnesse in opinion, or disaffection to such a party, which hath been owned among some divided States, hath more of peevish cruelty than prudent caution in it. A Judge should enjoy a good memory and understanding, for he must not only know the particular Lawes, but be a­ble to interpret them, and know which particular law will decide and deter­mine every Case that is brought be­fore him; that he ought to be of competent age and gravity, free from partiality, covetousnesse, and passion, [Page 168] every one will imagine young men fall short of that experience and maturity of judgement, which are the products of age, therefore they who bring the election of Judges and other Magi­strates, within the compasse of Rules, admit not of any to Offices of such high concernment until above 30 years of age. Such elegant persons as talk finely, complement fluently, and delight altogether in sprucenesse, (usually called pretty men) are of all other most unfit for Government and Magistracy; where gravity is so requisite. Nor should he suffer him­self to be carried aside by friends and relations, peculiar inclination to such a Person or faction, and Sympathy of affection: nor ought he on the other side to fear a prevailing party, or suffer any spiteful humor insensibly to slip into his mind, whereby he may be induced to strain his judgement, palliate or aggravate a crime, and sway the ballance of justice beyond its course, for he ought to be impartial. And though in criminal causes it be said, that without anger a Judge can never punish home; yet to be peevish [Page 169] and froward, to have returnes of mansuetude or severity, as a humor may be predominant, to doom a poor wretch to death in his thoughts before tryal, becomes not a person of so high an Office, a Pleader is not permitted to fix an interpretation upon the Law, but it is requisite that he be well read in the particular Lawes, and know whence an argument may be drawn, pertinent to his Clients cause, and therefore should be dignified with a good memory.

Government I find adjudged to the imagination,Jo. Huar. exam. in­gen. cap. 11. because it ought to be ordered with a kind of harmony and consent; every thing in due time and place, Ant. Za­ra. ana­tom. in­gen. sec. 2. mem. 16.which are works apper­taining to that faculty; besides, it is re­quisit that he be a good Speaker, State­ly, Majestical in Port, Active, industri­ous, of quick dispatch, & high Aims, all which properties are usually incident to men indued with a good imaginati­on: yet in regard that those Orna­ments which are most plausible, are also soonest displeasing if not allayed with a mixture of prudence, spruce [Page 170] persons and men of ready expressions though their addresses be pleasing, yet they gain not authority without a temperature of gravity; and because the frequency of the most splendid object blunts the eyes, and begets a lesse esteem in such as behold them, therefore some caution is used by pru­dent Magistrates in this particular; though they be never so humble and courteous, yet they will sometimes take state upon them, and be at a convenient distance, when they please to appear abroad, they carry it out with a becoming magnificence, but are not lavish of their presence; they are quick in dispatch when the matter is ready for action, but cautelous and circumspect, yielding to occasions and emergent obstacles; and therefore to a compleat Magistrate a good judge­ment is required.

In Warre two things are considera­ble, but seldome concur in one man, Valour and Policy: Such as are of an high implacable spirit, stout in main­taining their reputation, blunt in dis­course, carelesse in their garb, and (if [Page 171] a negative may be admitted) of no deep understanding, (a thing imper­tinent in the heat of a battle) are fit­test for combate, and down-right va­lour. But they that are subtle in fore­casting and contriving, peculiarly cun­ing in mischief, close in concealing their designs, speedy in execution, and provident to foresee and prevent what may happen; are best for stratagems. Men indued with such a kind of wit, are by the common people called luc­ky: because they diserne not the means and waies by which they bring their designs about, and therefore when they succeed, ascribe all to For­tune: Whereas wise men admit of no other fortune, besides Gods provi­dence, and mens indeavours.

History waites and attends upon Government, and the affairs of Nati­ons: they that deal with it, are either such as read and relate without any further aime, or such as write; to the first a great memory is all that is requi­red; but the other should enjoy a pe­netrating judgement, by vertue whereof they may be able to discover [Page 172] the Motives, Occasions, and Grounds of every design, by what Agents and means it was managed, the event and successe of it, with an impartial vin­dication of the truth, nor should a dexterous imagination be wanting, to adorn the matter with a good stile, a great grace to History.

Logick is an Art which inquires into, (and judges of) Truth; the first step to this inquisition is a right un­derstanding of single notions and names; and therefore Logicians bound and confine things under certain gene­ral heads, called by them Praedicables and Praedicaments; to the end that no aequivocation may draw the mind to a double meaning, and bring men in­to an error; our thoughts are subject to waver, and frame loose apprehen­sions of things: but the reducing of things to a right series and ranck, fixes and restraines them. Next, the mind joynes single notions, and thereof frames propositions, which are either true or false; true, when such things are composed whose nature admits of a composition, such things severed [Page 173] whose natures disagree: false, when the contrary is done. To discover when a proposition is true or false; 1. Let a man take the contradictory to it, so he shall have two propositi­ons; whereof one must be true the o­ther false: after a serious and leisura­ble comparing of them together, (if he be not void of that which they call natural Logick) reason wil instruct him to reject one, & admit the other. Or 2. Let him turn the proposition into a question: for example; Whether In­temperance be hurtful? This question hath two parts; first the Subject, or thing it self concerning which the question is made, that's intemperance: and secondly the Praedicate, or that which is attributed to it, namely to be hurtful: Then to assist his discovery he must assume a third or middle term; which may be this, to impair the health, and joyne it first with the Praedicate; thus, Whatsoever impa­reth the health is hurtful; next with the Subject; Intemperance impareth the health: So finding the Subject and Praedicate to agree in a third or middle terme, in imparing the health; the [Page 174] conclusion offers its self; Therefore In­temperance is hurtfull. The reason of the consecution is this, Whatsoe­ver things agree in one third, agree also in themselves. Whatsoever parts of a Proposition agree in the middle terme, agree also in the conclusion: Whatsoever may be affirmed concer­ning an universal, may be affirmed concerning all particulars that are contained & comprehended under it. Intemperance and Hurtfull agree in a third, in impairing the health; therefore they agree in themselves; they may be combined together in the premis­ses, therefore they may be joyned in the conclusion. If I may say in gene­ral whatsoever impayreth the health is hurtful, I may truly affirm so much of Intemperance in particular, because it is comprehended in the number of those things which impair the health. If one would inquire the truth of this proposition, whether Pleasure be mans cheefe felicity? let him (to promote his inquiry) select a convenient middle terme, let it be permanent; and the discursion may run thus; all true fe­licity is permanent; Pleasure is not [Page 175] permanent; Pleasure then is not true felicity: Pleasure and felicity agree not in being permanent, therefore the conclusion severs them; the reason of the consecution here is, that whatso­ever things disagree in the third, or middle term, disagree in themselves. Or, 3. A Proposition may be put into a disjunctive form, wherein two things being layd down, to which a third cannot be added, if an Affirma­tion, or Negation pass upon one of them, the other is exempted: or, if more than two, they being fully enu­merated, an Affirmation or Negation attributed to one exempts the rest: as he that precisely affirms a thing to have been done in the day, exempts the night. He that of the four parts of the year exempts Spring, Summer, and Harvest, must needs mean Win­ter.

This is all that I conceive needfull for discovering the nature of Logick, in order to this design: for I take not upon me to give an exact account of any Art. The works that a Logician hath to do, are, 1. to reduce every thing to its due series: 2. to define, [Page 176] or comprise the nature of a thing in apt and pertinent terms. 3. To com­pose things which admit of composi­tion, and sever such as disagree; whence Truth or Falsity result, ac­cording as this operation is well or ill performed. 4. From some proposi­tions probable or granted, to deduce something that is disputable. To the two first a quick and clear fancy is re­quisite; to the second and third a good judgment, and a minde setled, which is ever most advantagiously prae-disposed to this art: and he that proves a close Student at it, if it find him not so, it will help to make him so. The study of Arts is the culture of the minde, and serves to correct the errors of our natures. The Opponent should enjoy a quick invention, that he may excogitate Arguments against his Adversaries tenets. The Respon­dent should have a solid reaching judgement, to know when an Argu­ment concludes, when not: and frame his Answer as occasion requires. In the Sophisticall part he carries the cre­dit that can lay on tongue and wrangle, which moves the Students in coelestial [Page 177] Sciences (as they call them) to say, that in the geniture of a Logician, Mars must be Lord of the Horoscope, and view Mercury in a Trine.

Oratory endeavours to excite the Appetite and Will, by recommend­ing some florid and plausible notions to the Fancy; therefore an Orator in the first place attempts to illaqueate the fancy to win the affections of his Auditory by an insinuating Preface, pleasing gesture, and inchanting lan­guage. Then he perspicuously states the matter, and so proceeds to prove what he intends by popular Argu­ments (for concise and subtle dispu­tations are ineffectual with the people) and that which might make against him, if it be not too manifest he con­ceals it: like that Painter who being to draw the picture of a man who had but one eye, concealed that blemish by representing onely the perfect side of the countenance, as the posture is in such as they call half-faces.

If he go about to demonstrate the goodness or vileness of a person, or thing, thereby to procure liking or [Page 178] disliking; he deduces Arguments from such qualities, or circumstances which have contributed some share of com­mendation or discredit: the rest he conceals by a handsome praeterition. The Country, Parents, Family, Birth, Actions, Honours, Virtues, Tempe­rature, Death, and Fame after death, are the usual Ingredients into the En­comium of a Person. The nature, qua­lity, antiquity, pleasantness, useful­ness, and goodness of things make them commendable. Exploits, or actions of men derive their glory from their lawfulness, utility, the occasion of undertaking them, the manner of managing them, the time when, the place where, and motives by whose instigation they were attempted: and the contrary qualities are urged in vi­tuperation. In which kind of Pane­gyricall discourses, devised for the most part to procure delight, it is easie to observe of what force their cun­ning transitions, handsome digressions, and intermixing of acute sentences, and pertinent stories, have with the people. As the fore-shadowing in Pictures causes the utmost Verges to [Page 179] fall round upon themselves, and so knit up in the end, that they promise more than we see; and cause us to discern some part to be included and folded under that shadowing, which by not being discovered is discovered the more: So in an Oration, when we are told, that there are many things, which for want of time cannot be recited; or, that the superlative excellency (of I know not what) puts the Orator to a loss of expression; this detains our mindes in suspence, and many times causes us to believe the matter greater than it is, or than he could otherwise perswade us to believe it to be. On the contrary, when he would procure a loathing and hatred in the mindes of the Auditory, he cunningly fore-shadows the matter at which he darts the weapons of his Rhetorick, and tels them it is so hor­rible, so odious, so enormous, he can­not, will not, dares not utter it. By this trick he leaves somewhat for their thoughts to supply, and raises their indignation to a higher pitch, than a tedious discourse would do. You may imagine, that the Painter [Page 180] who drew Agamemnon at the sacrifice of his lovely Daughter, with a vail over his face, did not thereby con­ceal, but rather more clearly repre­sent such a posture of inexpressible sorrow.

In swasive and disswasive discour­ses or deliberations, the Arguments must arise to a higher strain of Rea­son, and decline from the popular mode to a more serious composure; alwayes provided, that they be ac­commodated to the persons whose af­fections are to be raised or abated. If an Orator go about to perswade men to the undertaking of any ex­ploit, he tels them that it is possible to be atchieved, honest, pleasant, and profitable: and the contrary in dis­swading; not omitting examples and testimonies of learned men: For, though in natural Philosophy and Mathematicks (where the exquisite truth of things is searched out) Ar­guments from Testimony, Tradition, and Example are of smal account: yet in Civil and humane Transactions they are of great weight; but with a regard had to the quality and condi­tion [Page 181] of the person whose authority or example is alledged. Love is stirred up by an high exaltation of some good­ly person, or thing. Hatred by ag­gravating the indignity of some per­son, or action. Pitty, by opening the misery of some person well esteemed of by the Hearers, whose condition they will resent as if it were their own; and (as occasion serves) the Orator tacks about, and lies at trye, to ob­serve which way mens humors, tem­pers, and inclinations move, and ac­cordingly spreads the sails of his Rhe­torick to meet them.

In Judicial proceedings, whose aim is to gain favour or severity of justice, by examining matters of fact; the chief person of the auditory is the Judge, who being a person invested with Authority, and presumed to be a Master of Reason, much acuteness, and solidity must appear in them: If the Orator assumes the person of the Accuser, he sums up the impulsive causes which might probably move the party accused to the commission of the fact; as anger, malice, fore-thought, and formerly evidenced, occasion, [Page 182] opportunity, hope of gain, avoiding of some apparent Evil; easie conceal­ment, Consternation, and the like, the Defendent argues from contrary Topicks, and indeavouring to refute his adversaries Arguments, if any thing be so obvious, that it cannot be o­mitted by a handsome praeterition; he endeavours to diminish the validity of it. Unlesse he peremptorily stands upon his vindication, and then he argues the fact to be Lawfull from the Law of Nature, Equitie, Covenant, Custome, Example; or craves pardon, because it was done involuntarily, upon necessity, forcible impulsion, perturbation, and commo­tion of mind; which extenuating cir­cumstances have a great influence up­on mens mindes, where free discepta­tions find place: but yet in ordinary legal tryals (where the bare matter of fact is considered) they do not of­ten procure favour. Above all it is ve­ry material that in all addresses the Orator should bring into publick view a Carriage, Elocution, and Action suitable to his intended discourse; and such as may contribute a lively re­presentation [Page 183] of what he endeavers to imprint in the minds of his Auditory. In instructing he ought to be earnest, grave, and serious, with a voice and pronuntiation suitable; A quick, live­ly, and pleasant stile soonest moves men to joy. Sorrow is caused by a low passionate stile, the voice flatte­ring and interrupted; In ample mat­ters the discourse should be lofty, bold, and manly; the voice undistur­bed, and without artificial interrupti­ons: In mean occasions concise, acute and elegant: In Panegyricks stately, flourishing, and full of ornament. In narrations clear, and perspicuous; in asking or excusing, modest and sub­missive; In commendations officious, and full of respect: In mirth and pro­sperous encounters luxuriant and plea­sing, and not to nicely crampt into a method. In sorrow and fearfulnesse, a grave, compendious, and leisurable stile is most pertinent; the voice low, flattering, and arteficially interrupted. Anger and Indignation requires a rough, trouble, and uneven stile, sui­table to the nature of such impetuous passions. So that an Orator ought to [Page 184] tune and modify his voice, as a Luta­nist doth his strings, that it may ex­presse all the several motions and pas­sions of the mind; provided that he order the matter so dexterously as to redeem himself from the suspition of affectation: For it is the part of an Artist to conceal his Art. The va­rious modifications of words and sen­tences, Figures, and Tropes, whereby they are drawn from their proper meaning to a pleasing and more em­phatical signification, add much orna­ment to an Oration, tickle the eares, and recreate the mindes of the hearers, through the handsome contrivance of words, and pleasant cadences in the periods of sentences; But if there ap­pear a manifest affectation in them, they prove like womens paint when discovered; they deface and discredit while they seem to beautify.

By this time it appears that Oratory derives its perfection from invention, Elocution and action or gesture. The first is advanced by help of a well sto­red memory, the other come by pra­ctice, but are cheefly promoted by a bold and selfe-pleasing fancy. In one [Page 185] designed for an Orator, a luxuriant and ranck wit is not to be rejected, a superabundance is better then defici­ency; trees that have some superflu­ous branches are sooner corrected, than those that are dry and withered can be advanced to fruitfulnesse. 2. His voice must be strong, but so as he have a command over it, to raise or depresse it, tune it to a gentle or harsh strain, a sweet or severe accent, as occasion requires. 3. He must be industrious. And 4. desirous of praise, (not to say ambitious.) 5. Of a good presence and personage. 6. Of a strong constitution, and habitude of body. 7. Active. 8. Bold, for ma­ny times the confidence of an Advo­cate helps out the evidence, and al­waies adds effecacy to his arguments. 9. He must be practised and trayned up in company, for we see, that such as affect solitude, and addict them­selves wholely to study; though they may perchance have their minds fur­nished with sublime notions, and refi­ned contemplations, wherewith they pleasantly entertain their thoughts, and fix a period to their content, ta­citely [Page 186] applauding their own felicity: yet when they come abroad, they are like people long accustomed to a close and obscure room, whose eyes are dazled at the light: A frequency of people astonishes them, overmuch stu­dy hath made them low spirited, and unfit for society; they have been so long love-sick with the Muses, that they are emasculated; become sneak­ing and meal-mouthed, not couragi­ous enough to bare the Checks and Affronts wherewith men that adven­ture upon manly imployments must sometimes expect to incounter. 10. It wil be a great ornamant to him if he be facetious, of a jocular fancy, to con­trive witty Jests, elegant resemblan­ces, apt comparisons, Superlative ex­pressions, and sometimes Satyricall lashes. 11. Which is as necessary as any thing else, let him be graced with a good memory, the store-house of words and matter. Last of all (but a­bove all) he must be conversant (though not criticall) in all (or most) Arts, and material pieces of learning, whereby he may be furnished with plenty of matter, without which [Page 187] his Rhetorick-pipe will make but dull Musick, and his volubility of expressi­ons signifie nothing; but thus accom­plished (as hath been set down,) ex­pressions cannot be wanting, but will flow in spontaneously.

By Speech, we transmit our con­ceptions, and communicate our thoughts one to another. And this is a priviledge pecular to men alone: For as much as those gestures and various accents used by Beasts, which are in­teligible among themselves, and serve to manage the negotiations where­with they have to do, arrive not at the Nature and dignity of a language, be­cause they serve to communicate only some few notions, or to expresse some passions without any regard had to circumstances; the present found af­fects them, (but so far as we can ob­serve) leaves no lasting impression, when we attempt to advance their lan­guage to a further improvement, as to imitate some of our vulgar words, that design arrives at no further parfe­ction than only to make a little sport, as in Poppinjayes taught to warble [Page 188] out some word, the sense whereof they never comprehend, much less any distinct notice of the things named: When we teach a Dog to come or go at our call, or practice some trick at the repeating of certain words, we may observe, it is the brisknesse of the pronuntiation that excites him, not the world it self; for if it be ne­ver so often repeated in a calme and still discourse, he seldom or never adverts it.

It is probable that in the Primative or first language that ever was, the words had some congruity with the things named; this observation will appear to have some probability, from this supposition: A man brought up from his infancy in an obscure place, sequestred from all society, and after­wards brought into company, would use some industry to acquaint men with his notions and conceptions of such things as were presented to his view, either by signes, or speech; if by signes, he would (for example) expresse somewhat that is high by e­recting his eyes and hands; somewhat [Page 189] that is low by rasing his hand a lit­tle from the Earth; and such like congruous signes. If by Speech, then would he use such sounds and accents as have some congruity with the things named: In expressing small things, the letters e and i should be most heard; which men even at this day strive to do in some languages,Plat. in Cratyl. (and I believe in other,) as [...], brevis tenuis, minimus, litle, leettle; sad mat­ters would be represented with the frequent ingemination of the letter m, as me miserum! [...], hei mihi; in expressing slippery things the sound of the letter l should be of most force, as [...], laevis lu­bricus; the letters b and r in loud and violent things, as Bellowing, Brauling, Roaring, Rumbling, Tumbling, [...], bombus, fragor, & the like. It is proba­ble that (at least) many primative words were divised upon this occasi­on, and diverse radical names in the first language were fictitious, coined from the sound, or some such quality: but in deriving and compounding of words, men have studied so much either for finenesse or loftynesse of [Page 190] pronuntiation that they have some­times added letters, and sometimes taken them away, as best pleased their fancy; whereby it is become a matter of imposibility to trace down words to their Original, now in this multipli­city and confusion of languages, which though they be dialects one of ano­ther, yet (as it happens in families) a long tract of time hath quite extin­guished all marks of their alliance, so as we cannot tell whence they are de­scended. However he that would in­quire out the primative and ancient Idiom of any language now in use, he shall be sure to have the best account from the plain Country-people & wo­men, which being commonly confined to their homes preserve their lan­guage more sincere and unmixt, than the spruce and Stirring part of men doe.

Words (considering the present state of languages) signifie not naturally, but arbitrarily: for besides the considerable alteration that languages undergo with in the compass of one mans obsevation) we see that things of a very different [Page 191] nature are often expressed by the same name: so that the minds of children being unacquainted with their double meaning, catch at that interpretation which is most familiar, though wrong: for instance, the word Church leads their thoughts to an Edifice so called: Hearing a Discourse of Wars, Sol­diers and Arms, they fancy such Arms as belong to the body. If one speak of the Acts of Alexander, their thoughts are presently fixt upon some one of that name whom they know, or have heard of: and if they never heard the word before, then their Fancy suggests to them some word of like sound: whence it may be infer'd, that a certain and compleat under­standing of a language is not attaina­ble, till such time as custom, conver­sation, and going abroad hath pro­cur'd a competent knowledge of the nature and difference of things.

He that desires to learn a language onely for commerce and traffick, may soonest accomplish his desire by imi­tation and practice, by ingratiating himself with persons of all sorts, by [Page 192] frequenting the company of such as traffick abroad and manage businesse: by this means (if he enjoy a good memory) he shall learn the language by degrees, and as it were unawares: & be more tenacious of what he thus gains occasionally, than if he attemp­ted to conquer it by plodding study. But he that would throughly under­stand and be Master of a language, must lay a sure foundation in Gram­mar-rules that he may throughly un­derstand the nature and differences of words, whereof some expresse perma­nent things, some denote transient a­ctions and relations, some serve only to connect and join others together. This study of Grammar requires a good memory and patient industery; but to the commendable use of lan­guage a good imagination is requisite, which united with a strong memory will inable to discourse fluently, sud­denly, and confidently concerning any subject: But yet such men as are sel­dome notable for any great depth of understanding; but for him that would write an accurate and well compacted stile, solidity of judgement is requisite, [Page 193] to the end that his expressions and stile may be judiciously suited to the matter in hand, in as much as every subject is not capable of the same stile of wri­ting, Philosophical matters require one kind, Historical another; the stile of an Epistle must be different from that of an Oration.

Voice is two-fold, either 1. conti­nued without any artificial intervals, which we call speaking, Or 2. Segre­gated by migrations, extentions and abatings, with convenient distances, and this is vocal Musick or singing. The intent of Musick is to improve the sound or quality of words by some sweet notes of voice or instrument, with a due regard had to measure, time, and prolation. Sound proceeds from motion, therfore according to the celerity or tardity of the motion, it is either sharp or flat, according to the concord or discord of the Notes it is harmonious, or disharmonious; ac­cording to the speedy returnes or di­stances of time, (which prepare and dispose the eare to receive the subse­quent notes) it is said to consist of [Page 194] short or long time. We may observe, that men to expresse several passions emit their breath by various degrees, making divers manners of eruption, and tune their voice to several keyes: in imitation whereof Musick may seem to have been invented, and the kinds of it in old time distinguished accor­ding to mens several passions, and as a silent eloquence was used to raise or allay them in the hearers. An­ciently the Dorick Musick (which had a grave and solemn strain) was thought to excite men to prudent and He­roick actions, and to restrain them from loosnesse and effeminate wan­tonnesse; the Jonick measures were contrived to promote mirth and jol­lity: and the Lydean accommodated to sadness and mourning, for we must know, the Ayr smitten and modula­ted by voice or instrument, moves and affects the contiguous Ayr, this the next; till by a continued succession it arrives at the organ of hearing; in­sinuates and mingles its self with the spirits of the Nerves, and so is traje­cted to the heart, where entring calm­ly and gently it sedates and allaies [Page 195] the stirring Spirits; or briskly and with vehemence it exsuscitates them.

There are some (not only men but) Children which expresse a particular kind of acutenesse in imitating the speeches and gestures of others. These (whosoever will take the paines to observe it) will be found generally apt to learn Musick, for that being (as was said) but a kind of imitati­on, carries an alliance with their Genius.

Poetry illustrates the matter about which it is conversant, by words du­ly measured, and aptly joyned toge­ther: the original of it was only the casting of a company of words into a kind of form and proportion; as in­deed all Arts at first were but mean trivial things; Painting no more at the first, but the circumscribing the exte­rior limites of a body with single lines, as the shadow thereof was project­ed on a Wall: The skil of illustrating one part or making it more clear by the thinnesse of the lines, another more darke by casting a deep shadow on it; the dexterity of causing some parts to appear at a distance, by de­pressing [Page 196] and extenuating the lines; others at hand above the ground of the table, by making the lines eminent and bearing out; these knacks were added aftewards. And its probable, Poetry at its nativity only pratled out some harsh incomposed verses, in a rude method and plaine measure, with some kind of consonancy to please the eare. And we see that many illiterate per­sons and ordinary country clowns by studying of consonancies and cadencies of words accomplish thus much: you may imagine some jolly poeticall swaine in the spring-time dedicating this morning Carol to his Amaryllis:

A Poem (they say) is a vocal picture, the meer designe of it is to represent to the Readers fancy a lively Idea or picture of the thing in cleare expres­sions, flowrishing elegancies, a copious and luxuriant stile, adventurous and lofty language: to present every per­son in his proper colours; with such speeches, passions, humors and carri­ages as becomes his age, state, condition and temper.

The Art of Poetry so far depends upon the strength of a quick natu­rall [Page 198] wit; that (according to the true maxime) a Poet is born, not made: he that is born a Poet, may be much mended and improved by study; he that is not born with a genius fitted for it, wil never be made one. To deli­ver in few words a peculiar and distin­guishing character of a poeticall wit: He must enioy a quick and ranging fancy which contrives antique fictions, imaginary Chimera's, perplexed fables, unexpected encounters; leads the reader into inchanted groves and gar­dens, builds imaginary castles, palaces, and a thousand such devices; he is usu­ally sublimed up with a confident selfe-admiring imagination. A Poet is first highly inamored of his owne ingenious conceits, and that gives him the confidence to publish them: pre­suming that others will be as much taken with them as himself; which if it happen (as in all probability some that are of the same humor and Genius will extoll and applaud them) then he thinks himself a happy man, and this applause, if it be not the onely re­ward he aimes at; yet it is commonly the richest he can catch.

[Page 199]The axioms which are generally admitted in naturall Philosophy, are chiefly these. 1. That all bodies, substances and motions are produced by some efficient cause, or primary a­gent: whereupon the common people (who have more truth in their notions than every one observes, but want skill to discover it) compendiously resolve themselves concerning all the effects in nature, by saying that such a thing happens according to the provi­dence and appointment of God; which is true, and as much as need be expect­ed from them, and a kind of arguing more allowable, than if they should attribute things to fortune, chance, or such kind of nothings: but a Philosopher who thinks himselfe obliged to give a more immediate reason of things, grants this to be right, as being assu­red that he which layes not such a foundation in his method of Philoso­phy, will find himself miserably puz­led about many apparances. Yet makes not this a subterfuge for igno­rance or laziness, but proceeds fur­ther: that 2. All natural bodies (as to the state they now enjoy) were formed of [Page 200] some prae-existent matter, which to discover plainly hath posed all, both ancient and modern enquiries, and pro­duced various Opinions: & no marvel; for the first production of things be­ing a matter so far out of our discovery; all the knowledge we can arrive at concerning it is but conjectural, and various too according to the several methods which men have used to search it out. It hath passed a long time as a certain truth, that Earth, Water, Fire and Air were first formed and contrived out of a confused shapeless lump, and of these being variously tempered together, all mixt bodies resulted. Others diving more scruti­nously and curiously into the originall of things, tell us, that the first matter consisted of minute parts and several configurations, which fortuitously meeting together, produced all solid bodies; their tenuity making them fit for mixtion, whereas crassitude hinders their coalescence. Latter times have still contrived more re­fined notions, and perswade us that the first and originall matter con­sisted of particles, some very subtile, [Page 201] fluid, and capable of penetrability: some spherical, or globulous; which by their various motions, mutual col­lision, and attrition, dasht themselves into several Schematismes. For they take it for granted, that the original and prae-existent matter, being by the Creator made up of small parts, and those of various shapes, and put into motion: these parts must ne­cessarily wear off their extancies and corners; that which was so worn off would become a subtil tenuious and agile matter; the rest minute globes or spherical particles, the smaltenuious & subtil particles being somwhere en­vironed and pressed together, assu­med such figures, as the next or contiguous bodies were apt to imprint upon them. So that figures seem not to have been wrought in bodies by any foreconceived design, or intelligent aime; but only by the concurrence of accidental causes, and are nothing else but the bodies themselves, limited by the circum-obsession of other bodies from being extended beyond those dimensions they enjoy. For example, A Cube seems to receive its figure by [Page 202] being equally environed on all sides. A Lamine or thin plate by being dasht powerfully on two sides only, and en­joying the liberty of extention on the edges. A Spherical body either by rolling every way, by which motion all the extencies or little corners are grated off: (as it will happen in pro­cesse of time, although it move in an Orb or Sphere, where every contigi­ous body seemes to be lesse hard) or else by winding of many filaments into such a form, as in a botome of yarn, and the like. It is certain 3. Earth, Wa­ter, and Ayr are the Wombes and re­ceptacles to comprehend, nourish and preserve mixt bodies. And that 4. all bodies have effluvia's or atomes darted from them, whereby they act at a di­stance; and make a pression upon any other body that is within their Orb of emanation, and fit to imbibe them: and so the atomes or minute particles which are wafted over to us from hot bodies, heat us; those of cold bodies benum us; the Nervous parts of our bodies being capable of receiving a pression by them. 5. That all, or most bodies, are Radious more or lesse; [Page 203] and that array expands its self in the forme of a Pyramid whose base is in the object, and its vertical point in the eye. It is generally granted, that 6. there is so strict a connexion and combination in the Fabrick of the World, that no vacuity or divulsion can be in the continuity of Nature; And yet 7. every compounded body hath many Cavities or pores, apt to re­receive smal and subtil particles which are trajected through them; mixion is but a composure or juxtaposition of parts, whose superficies's, though they touch one another, yet their coal­escence is not so close, but that these Atomes or subtil parts of matter find convenient pores through which they passe, and by vertue of these it is that, 8. All bodies rescue themselves into their native dimension and figure, if they be by any overmastering violence compressed out of, or distracted be­yond it; As it is seen in a Bow, where­in if the pores be (for example) round before the bending; by the tensure they are crampt and pressed into a co­nical figure: but when the bow is a­gain unbent, these active particles in­large [Page 204] the diameter of their pores, re­store them to their former round fi­gure; & by pressing the adjacent parts reduce the bow to its wonted figure.

9. All Natural bodies are subject to dissolution and corruption, yet so as that bodies of a different nature a­rise from them: Insomuch that if we respect the whole frame of nature, dissolution and corruption of bodies imports no more than the assuming of a new shape: no annihilation suc­ceeds, but a kind of circulation in the works of Nature. For after many changes and revolutions a body may re-assume the same figure and Nature it had before: as appeares by that common instance of an Oxe; that feeds upon grasse, which is converted into flesh; this flesh after it hath un­dergone some changes turnes to the Earth; and in processe of time is sub­limed up into grasse again.

To find out the qualifications re­quisite to a Natural Philosopher, we may observe that for him that aimes at no more, but onely to understand what reasons other men give of things, how they state the matter con­cerning [Page 205] natural effects; and so gives up himself to be guided by their di­ctates: there's no more required but a good memory. But he that wil in good earnest examine the truth of other mens reasons; or search out reasons of himself, should enjoy a peircing judgement.

In health there is an exact compo­sure of all the exterior and inward parts of the body; but in every dis­ease some disorder or dislocation (not of the exterior and superficial alwaies, but) of some inward part, as Spirits, Blood, or humors: as appeares by that strugling which men use to rescue themselves into a posture of rest, which if they cannot accomplish by that agitation, then they have recourse to such meanes as by experience have been found conducible: For although reason in general instructs men, that a healthfull body must have nourish­ments agreeable to its Nature; and that a diseased body ought to be re­duced to its natural and healthful tem­per by medicaments that enjoy a con­trary nature and quality to the prae-dominant humor, thereby to qualifie [Page 206] and moderate it, that nature may ex­pel it with more ease: yet the distinct knowledge of what things are agree­able, and what noxious, (wherein the speculative part of Physick chiefly consists) and to assigne peculiar re­medies to every particular disease, a­bout which the practical part is con­versant, these are but the products of experience; so that practical Phy­sick took its first rise from a bold ad­venturing upon remedies, which as they were observed to be successfull or unlucky, were accordingly either recommended to posterity or rejected.

Now it is very certain that to gain the rules and method of curing, as they are already collected and de­livered by Authors; the history of Plants, Minerals, and other particu­lars used in Physick; and the history of parts, or Anatomy of mans body are accomplished by the memory. But the practical part, whereby one is obliged to judge of signes and Sym­ptomes, and thence to judge or prog­nosticate of danger or safty, continu­ance or speedy recovery, and from the indications of a disease to know what [Page 207] remedies are suitable is a work of a ready imagination.

There is a vast difference between the Theory of any Art, and the pra­ctice of it; the first belongs either to memory or judgement, the last com­monly to the imagination. And it is observed that the learnedest men in any faculty, who are immerst in con­templation, and busy themselves to be very knowing in all the intricacies of their Art, seldome prove so plau­sible in the practice, as those who con­tenting themselves with the common and ordinary rules, (which are easy and soon learnt) apply themselves wholely to the professory and lucra­tive part. This is seen in nothing so evidently as in the practice of Physick; (although it be true in other Arts) wherein many adventurous empiricks, and prating Mountebancks, by help of a few astonishing words and some experimented remedies soon raise themselves a great fame: especially if assisted by the credulity of the vul­gar and lesse intelligent sort of peo­ple. But one usual engin whereby they screw up their fame among these, is [Page 208] their cheapnesse; the surest device to catch the common people who are ge­nerally hidebound, and sordidly par­cimonious. Sometimes (I confess) it fals out, that a man whom Nature meant and intended for a Physitian; by the iniquity of fortune, unskilfulnesse of Parents and Tutors, or some other ill luck is thrust upon a meaner professi­on: which being irksome and unplea­sant to him (as it commonly happens when the natural bent and inclinati­on of the mind is thwarted) afterwards following the conduct of his Genius, applies himselfe to the Study of Phy­sick, and proves more lucky at it, than many which by a tedious and charge­able education have been trained up to it.